Page 72 of Vervain

“Protection. Think of it like your glamour. It hides things in plain sight. A vegodian spell. That is all I know.”

Another thing to learn when I return home. “Then we will be on our way.”

Maeve turns to Serun. “Lucifer’s bow will be ready in a couple of days. Did you want me to claim it and take it to him?”

“Kin puhn.” Serun moves beside me. When I arch my brow, he tweaks his smile and says, “I will get the bow, and Saya and I will travel to the Sunken City.”

Maeve inclines her head. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

We leave the kitchen as the Death Spirit descends the stairs. He holds a basket of clothes in one arm and a wooden toy in the other. After a fleeting look between us, he smiles faintly, catching me off guard. “Lord Serun. Lady Consort.”

Serun murmurs his goodbye, but my mouth fills with cotton, and I find it hard to speak. It’s not until we leave and make our way back to the tunnel that Serun explains. “The Death Spirit is like Olivia and my family. Nightwalkers who hold onto their souls.”

“And what does a nightwalker with a soul look like? You have certainly not been a reassuring example, tricking me into marriage,” I say, muttering the last part.

“Heh…I believe that is a very human thing to do.” His eyes light as he smiles. “Nightwalkers with souls have emotions. They retain thoughts of what feelings were like and express them as a human would.”

Nightwalkers clinging to their past life.

“Newborns from the cages were afraid of the Death Spirit—one even wanted me to join them to kill him,” I admit.

Serun chuckles. “I overheard. But I doubt anyone would try. Maeve’s very adamant about keeping him.”

“As a slave?”

“Lover,” he replies. “They often shared a coffin when Maeve visited topside.”

“Was she the one telling him who to kill?”

“Yes.”

Creepy. I wouldn’t want to get on their bad side.

“Will we train again tonight? I want to get better at controlling my magik until I can confront my mum.”

We step into the darkness; a thick line of black swallows us whole. Serun inches daringly closer, his knuckles brushing mine, and as much as I want to resist this feeling, I enjoy the shadows that consume him. “Did you want to train or a distraction?”

“Tonight, I’d like to train with my glamour.” I crush my hand into a fist. “I’m almost there. I can feel it.”

He grunts a laugh. “Then we will train.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED?

Saya Claymore

The above stars pulsate. White dots splatter the sky like a bristled brush flicked them across a midnight blue canvas. Wind rustles the long blades of grass, and the moonflowers glow a brilliant white alongside the dusty purple vervain.

The flowers bend towards me as I roam, bringing back memories.

Concentrate.

With a deep breath in, I gently close my fingers into fists. As I do, shimmering light from the moonflowers and specks of glimmering dust lift all around me.

“Pra lir,” I say, my voice trembling the very earth. Petals pluck away, and stems are cut cleanly from the roots; an array of blue, white, purple, and brown floats in the air and stills, as if timeless.

I think of the creature that punctured Cole’s chest with its tail, and cling to the rage it brought me.