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He collided with her lower half—on purpose, she knew. When his hands closed around her thighs, she shrieked, the piercing sound echoing.
He resurfaced with a splash and pushed the black hair out of his face.
“You scared me,” she accused with a smile as Darien rested his dripping arms on the donut. She fought a shiver when his hands grazed hers, and she wondered if he’d done it—touched her—on purpose.
“What an asshole, hey?” he said with a wink. But he grew abruptly serious as he asked her, “How are you feeling?”
She thought about it. “I’m okay.”
He tipped up a brow, water beads rolling down his face. “Promise?”
“Promise. Look.” She showed him the Caliginous on Silverway tattoo, no droplet of light pulsing through it.
“Good.” He smoothed back a stubborn strand of his hair.
“I’ve been…meaning to tell you something,” she began. She had spent a lot of time mulling over the memories Darien shared with her in the chamber yesterday, and she had a few questions. “When you showed me your memory of the day we met…you saved me from other slayers. And I’m just wondering—who were they?”
“An unauthorized circle. Unauthorized means they aren’t allowed to work Angelthene soil. They call themselves the Phoenix Head Society.”
Her stomach dipped, her mind catapulting back to her time spent in Spirit Terra—in the past.
Singer whined, slinking deeper into her shadow.
“I know that name,” Loren mouthed. “I…I saw them…when I was in a coma.”
Darien’s steel eyes tightened. He swiped the water off his face. “What do you mean you saw them?”
“I was…,” she swallowed, “in between. I was seeing things that happened in the past. I saw them create the Arcanum Well.”
“You saw?”
Loren nodded, her heart breaking at the memory of the Staring Teenager. Poor William. “They…the founders of the society visited a Nameless creature in a cavern somewhere. A giant serpent. The serpent gave them access to the prima materia, but…they were only allowed to use it to create one thing. And the serpent warned them that every time they used the Well, a life would need to be traded. For payment.” She choked on the last word.
It was abhorrent. The Phoenix Head Society was nothing but a group of murderers.
“Who are ‘they’?” Darien asked, his bass voice echoing, those eyes burning with intensity. “Did you get names?”
“One was a woman named Helia—she lived in the Old Hall at Angelthene Academy.” Darien was always hard to read, but Loren could tell he’d heard this name before. She continued, “Erasmus Sophronia and Elix Danik found her there—” Loren abruptly stopped talking, an epiphany striking her like lightning. “Oh my god. Elix Danik is Roark.” That memory slammed into her so hard, she felt her gut pitch downward. Now that she was reflecting on her time spent in Spirit Terra, and now that she had regained some of her lost memories, she recognized Elix Danik’s face.
That was her dad—the man who’d adopted her from the Temple of the Scarlet Star. A much younger version, yes, but Elix and Roark were the same person.
Loren scanned Darien’s face. “Did you know this already?”
“We did,” he said, looking like he wanted to say more, but didn’t. There was still so much to know, so much to be filled in on, and it was very clear that he didn’t want to overwhelm her.
Loren stared at the water rippling under the lights, looking but not seeing. Thinking.
Erasmus had used the Arcanum Well to create her—to give her life. But the serpent had warned that life and death were the natural order of things; one could not exist without the other.
Loren’s blood chilled. “That means…” She swallowed. “Someone must have been sacrificed for me.” Her words were so quiet, they were nearly inaudible.
Gods—who? Had someone died—been killed—for her?
Darien stroked his thumb across her wrist. “What do you mean?”
“I saw them… The society lied to people—they sacrificed innocent students to the Well,” she explained, her tone panicked. “They killed people, Darien—”
A piercing beep cut through the house. The sound was so sharp, it sliced into Loren’s eardrums.
