“She’s not. Military have already had her blood tested.” My heart unclenches. “But the way they test is by seeing how blood interacts with an imbued object. Obsidian, usually. Normal blood does nothing. The blood of the dead causes a kind of interference. It’s easy to spot, if you know what to look for.”
I think about what she’s saying. Replay that night up on the tower, as I already have so many times.
“Your blade. You used it to cut away my shirt. It had my blood on it.” That was the moment it all changed. She was protecting me, so concerned about my injuries. And then, suddenly, not.
“There was something wrong with it,” she says. Utter, painful frustration at the memory. “Soobviously. I didn’t want to act on it. You have to know I didn’t want to. But that’s why those things are so dangerous, why Veridius trained me to spot them in the first place. Why it’s so important to strike first,” she finishes softly.
I stare at the opposite seat of the carriage, just trying to grasp it. “If that’s true, then what changed? How do you know I’m not …” I gesture.
“There are things the dead can’t do. Like heal.” Her eyes go to my empty sleeve. “You were tied up for the first few days when you got back to the Academy, but then you started to get better. Veridius … I think Veridius was looking for it. He said you must have run the Labyrinth in the ruins on the other side of the island. He figured your blood must have been contaminated in some other way. I think he knows how, but he doesn’t trust me enough to explain.” She locks eyes with me. So much pain and sorrow in them I can barely stop from looking away. “It was a mistake, Vis. A terrible, terrible mistake that I wish every day I could take back. I am so sorry.”
I don’t tell her it’s alright. I can’t. “So you’ve been working with the Principalis.” I say it gently enough that she understands I’m willing to continue listening, at least.
Emissa struggles to find the words for a few seconds. Fighting the urge to say more. Apologise more. The newly healed scar along my stomach itches.
“For him.” It’s a correction she’s not happy at having to make.
“Willingly?”
She takes some time to think about it. “Yes.” Not as confident as I would have expected, though. “I know he’s told you about the Cataclysm, and I believe him.”
“Why?”
“The things he’s shown me.” She shakes her head with a rueful smile at my expression. “No. If I tell you what I know, you’ll decide it means there’s no need to go and see Veridius. And Vis? Youreallyneed to go and see Veridius.”
I don’t say anything. She knows me well.
“He’s been trying to get a message to you for days now,” she adds, seeing I’m not going to respond. “A warning. When are your Placement exams?”
“They’re not telling us exactly, but probably in a couple of months. Same time as yours, I assume,” I say slowly.
“There’s going to be a separate test, just before you get ceded your Will. They’re going to check your blood.”
I swallow. Remembering Sextus Valerius, the strange man who came to the villa after the naumachia and took samples of my blood. Showed me those pictures. “I’m not going to pass, am I.”
“No. And they’re going to kill you because of it.”
I close my eyes. Part of me doubts her, can’t just accept her word the way I used to. I know how gods-damned good a liar she is now. But it feels real. “How do I avoid it?”
“You don’t. You can’t. It’s being mandated by the Princeps.” She takes a slow breath. “But there is a way you can fool it.”
“Which is?”
“You could cede to me before taking it.”
Silence, and then eventually I just laugh. When she just looks at me steadily, I throw up my hands. “You want me to become your Octavus?” Even the words make me sick.
“Only just before the test, and then I’d release your ceding as soon as it’s done. Before Placement. The timing would be tricky, but we could do it.” She sees the disgust warring on my face. “Veridius says it’s something to do with your Will being different, not your blood by itself. If you don’t have enough Will to begin with, it won’t trigger the reaction they’re looking for.”
I run a hand through my hair. “You’re sure that will work?”
“Veridius is sure. And I trust him on this. He wants you alive. So do I.” She watches me. The carriage rolls through Caten’s streets. Outside, the faint cries of hawkers are already echoing in the early morning. “It’s not enough, is it? You don’t believe me.”
“No. I believe you.” No reason for her to lie about this. Trust, though. That’s another issue. “Thanks. I’ll find a way.”
Her nod to my tacit rejection of her help is hurt and unsurprised. “What about talking to Veridius?”
“I’ll go and see him if he guarantees me unrestricted access to Solivagus. No chaperone.” Even before speaking to Lanistia, I knew I was going to have to talk to him eventually. But Emissa doesn’t know I’ve already made that decision.
