Page 43 of The Arcane God

Ena looked over at her would-be mother-in-law, wondering how much to trust her. Minutes ago, they’d been ready to flee this place—did Ena want her to be in on this intimate secret too? Part of her wanted to keep it just between her and Turner, but logically…if anyone could help her figure out what was wrong, it would be the stryx, and witch or not, Kaya was one of them. They’d come here for their help—maybe this was her chance to get it.

“Since the unbinding ritual,” Ena explained. “At first, it started with Ty’s blood. Like when he was attacked by the bear and I was tending his wound,” Ena said to Turner, and her mouth instantly watered at the memory. “But it’s only gotten worse. Any time I see blood, or even think about it, I get lightheaded and want to…” She trailed off, not knowing how to describe the intensity of the desire for it, especially the last time when she’d been in the tent and had nearly lost it. “But that…that never happened to you, did it?” she asked Kaya.

Kaya shook her head. “No, that didn’t happen to me when I was pregnant with Ty. The only people who crave blood are the stryx.”

“But I’m a witch,” Ena insisted. “Both of my parents are witches. How is that possible?”

Kaya shook her head, utterly perplexed. “I’m sorry, Ena, but I have no idea,” she said kindly. “But I think we should talk to Max. He’s the only one who might know why this is happening to you, or maybe how to stop it.”

Talk to Max…okay, that made sense. She could do that.

“Isn’t Max a little indisposed right now?” Turner asked, raising his eyebrows significantly.

“Yes, but we can find him, and we should do it now,” Kaya said. “If the cravings are already escalating…time is of the essence.” Then she turned into the dark woods, beckoning Ena and Turner to follow.

***

Kaya led them through the forest. It was the dead of night still—the only light coming from the bright, full moon shining overhead. Ena Knew there were others around them—be they the stryx who had Changed, or other wild animals—watching them, but she wasn’t concerned about them. She couldn’t be.

After a while, they came to a stream. It was beautiful, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the moonlight in such a way that it almost seemed to sparkle. But Ena hardly had time to absorb its beauty, because suddenly, she noticed that farther down the stream was a gigantic, white bear—almost as large as the one that had attacked them several weeks ago. It was crouched innocuously by the stream bank, drinking deep of the water, but it paused when they approached. It lifted its head, its dark eyes watching them.

Ena froze—instinct taking over as a predator spotted her, but then Kaya spoke to it.

“My heart’s blood, I’m sorry to interrupt your Change, but we need to speak with you. It’s a matter of some urgency,” she said.

It prowled towards them, its fur shining in the moonlight. She thought for an instant that maybe Kaya had been mistaken and this was just an ordinary bear, but then, before her eyes, it began to Change.

Its stark-white fur seemed to dim as it began to shed from its body, falling in clumps on the snow-covered ground. At the same time, its limbs seemed to retract—getting smaller and more proportionate for a human. The bear let out a grunt of effort as it fell on its hands and knees, concentrating. Its skin split on its face, peeling away to reveal the pale skin of a stryx underneath. A human mouth and nose emerged, and as the pile of fur and skin completely fell away, Ena could see the white and solid black of Max’s eyes once more.

In what seemed like seconds, the man, not the bear, was before her—nude as the day he was born and breathing hard. She could see his fists bunched underneath him—squeezing—as if he were in pain, then the man sat back on his heels, gathering himself.

“I know two Changes so close together is tough on you, my heart’s blood. Are you alright?”

“I will be,” Max gritted out, panting from the effort. “What is this about?”

“It’s about one of our newcomers,” Kaya said, glancing at Ena. “She may be in bloodlust.”

Max’s head snapped up at that, and he slowly raised a leg, stopping on one knee for several breaths before standing all the way up. He moved as if his limbs were sore and unused.

“Bloodlust?” he asked, his voice somewhat gravelly, like his vocal cords were brand new. Which, she supposed, they were, if they had just reformed.

Kaya looked at Ena, then back at Max, nodding. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s sit together by the stream, and she can explain.”

The four of them cleared a downed log by the stream of snow and sat along it. Blessedly, Kaya lent Max one of the furs she wore, so he didn’t have to have the conversation in the nude, and Turner, without having been asked, began to gather sticks for a fire, using his incendia to light it in seconds.

Max watched, fascinated, as he did so, likely never having seen a daemon’s Power before, but he didn’t ask any questions, just observed with curiosity. Once it was alight, he turned his attention away from Turner and towards Ena instead.

Ena explained as she had to Kaya—how around the time she found out she was pregnant, when they’d broken the bond, she started to notice strange reactions to blood—during the ritual, her handfasting, after Ty was wounded, and then now, even with him gone, to the blood Xoe had put in the tea. She explained how it had been getting worse—more consistent and intense—causing headaches, and she feared at some point, she might not be able to stop herself from drinking some.

“That does sound like bloodlust,” Max said, his voice concerned. “But I’m not sure how that’s possible. Bloodlust only occurs in those like us,” he explained. “And we’ve never had contact with witches, aside from Kaya here. At least not that I know of…” His brow furrowed slightly, as if considering something. “Both your parents were witches?”

“Yes, my mother was from Auster, like me, and my father was from Aquilo,” she explained.

“And your grandparents?” Max asked. “Do you know them?”

“My mother’s parents died young, from what I know, and my father was raised just by his mother. I never met any of them—both my parents died when I was two,” she explained.

“So your father’s father? He is unknown to your family?” Max asked, though Ena felt like this was grasping at straws. There was no way she had stryx heritage. It wasn’t like there had been stryx just walking around the Aquilo Coven—she would have heard stories about that—and besides, her grandmother had been a seer, a highly coveted person in the Aquilo Coven before she died. It would have been a big deal if she had had relations with any strangers from the other side of the—