The king held out his palm and carved a slash in it. Crimson blood slid down his hand on to the marble dais beneath him. “Good. We will seal this sacred commitment with a blood oath.”
Holy hell. Looks like I’d be working on a plan B.
Chapter 20
I paced the floor in Orion’s apartment, gripping the bandage around my hand.
We’d managed to rush out of the Tower of Baal before anyone realized that I didn’t heal like a demon. Still clutching my hand, I pivoted, pacing across the room again.
By contrast, Orion barely moved an inch as he watched me. Then he leaned back and spread his arms out across the sofa. “I’m starting to think this was all a mistake.”
That wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted to hear.
“What I would do,” he went on, “if you hadn’t agreed to the blood oath, would be to rush you out of the city. Then I’d make sure you stayed hidden. But you agreed to the blood oath.” He leaned forward, pinning me with his gaze. “Why, exactly, did you do that? You just signed your own death sentence.”
“I was staying in character,” I shot back, exasperated. “If I broke character, I’d be dead, right? In a fire. Mortana would never back down from a challenge. Mortana would do the Trial in a heartbeat. I have more of a chance in the Trial than I do in a fire pit. It was just a calculation of the odds.”
“Mortana would do the Trial in a heartbeat,” he repeated, and his eyes gleamed in the dim light, cold and ruthless. “Why are you talking about her as if you knew her?”
That was a good question. Why did I feel like I knew her?
I gripped my injured hand hard. “I don’t know. She’s like my id.”
“Hmm. That sounds like a mortal thing I don’t want to explore further because it’ll annoy me.” Orion’s eyes narrowed. “The thing is, Rowan, Lydia will likely kill you with her fire magic. And I’m supposed to stay at the Tower. Even if you manage to survive the Trial by hiding, the other demons will quickly realize you don’t have any powers. Then you’ll die in a fire pit. And if you fail to show up, you’ll die from the blood oath.”
I stopped pacing to stare at him. “Are you trying to be helpful?”
He rose and grabbed my injured hand. “I’m going to heal you. I forgot quite how long it took for humans to heal. Ridiculous.” He pulled me closer to him and sat again, and I plopped on the couch by his side. He unwrapped my bandaged palm, and our heads leaned close together we peered at the deep gash. He brushed his fingertips just to the right of the red slash. As he did, warm, healing magic skimmed over my hand. I stared as my skin smoothed over before my eyes.
“Are you healing me because you feel empathy, Orion?” I asked.
“I don’t want blood on my floor,” he murmured.
When the skin looked good as new, I pulled my hand away. “What can you tell me about what the Trial will be like? I need to make a good plan.”
Our faces were close now, and a line formed between his eyebrows. “A good plan,” he repeated, his tone suggesting it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard.
Orion probably never needed to plan things, did he? He could show up and kill people.
“Just tell me how you think the night will go,” I prompted.
“It’ll begin in an old oak grove in the Elysian Wilderness. The other demons will be in different locations throughout the wood. They won’t know which way you’re moving, but they’ll try to hunt you down by scent. If you stay in one place or try to hide, they’ll converge and kill you. If you try to run, they’ll smell you and kill you. They are far, far faster than you. And it’s not just the five demons from the Quorum, mind you. It’s anyone from the city who wants to participate. It could be a hundred demons. In order for the Trial to end, you’ll need to survive for a full hour.”
Despite the horror of what he was telling me, an idea was starting to form in my mind. “Lydia has fire magic. The others don’t. So can fire hurt them?”
“Yes. Some only have strength and speed, and others have forms of elemental magic. You could be frozen to death, although Nama isn’t great at hitting a moving target. It’s more likely that she’d trap you in a wall of ice or something, then beat you to death and carve your heart out with her claws.”
My throat went dry. “How thick is the ice?”
“It’s not incredibly thick. I could probably punch my way through it. It’s like glass.”