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“Do you love her?” Smee asks, and I narrow my gaze.
“What do you think? Don’t be absurd.”
“I saw the way you looked at her. At least to some extent you cared, but I need to know that you understand and have wrapped your mind around what she is. Don’t let her get in your head.”
I cross my arms over my chest, not daring to look at her. “I’m aware, and I’ll do what needs to be done.”
Zephyr returns, out of breath with a thermos in hand. “Ready?”
We give Scarlet a moment to dress before knocking on the door to my quarters, the sound echoing through the tense silence. “Are you decent?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yes,” she scoffs in reply.
Zephyr and I step inside, securing the door’s rope to the cabinet. I hold another in my hand, lifting it for her to see. I prick my finger, pressing it into the carved symbol on the wall. Magic swirls around us, making the air taste bittersweet as the wards on the walls ignite. “You can either make this easy, or we can fight. But you should know, with the wards set, any spells cast inside this room while they’re up won’t work.”
Scarlet’s hazel eyes narrow at the rope in my hands but doesn’t protest. Zephyr twists a metal loop embedded in the floor to lift a table from it, locking it into place while I grab the folding chairs from the wall cubby. Scarlet sits on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked beneath the tabletop, while Zephyr and I take our seats opposite her.
As Zephyr unscrews the top of the thermos, steam escapes with an inviting aroma. He sets a cup on the table, and I find myself holding my breath, watching Scarlet’s reaction. Tension crawls up my spine.
“Why are you doing this?” Scarlet asks, defiance lacing her words.
“Because I need answers,” I reply, meeting her gaze. “The truth, and I can’t trust you’ll give that to me.”
She stares at me, and I can feel her worry pulsing through the bond we share. It takes everything in me not to reach out and comfort her, but I need to focus on the task at hand.
“Drink,” I command, my voice firm as I hold out the cup to her.
Scarlet hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath and swallowing down the truth tea. I set an hourglass on the table, and the sand starts to trickle down.
“Let’s begin with something simple,” I say as the first grains of sand settle at the bottom. “What is your full name?”
“Scarlet Elevian Micidious,” she answers without hesitation, her voice betraying no emotion.
“Good. What are you?”
She stares at me for a long moment. “Mage, both my parents were magic users. But I truly don’t know otherwise. My father changes his children, mixing species.”
“Why?” I ask, settling back in my seat.
“To override his curse.” She chews the inside of her cheek as she speaks.
“Did he know or plan for me to enter the gauntlet?”
Her eyes widen. “How should I know? I didn’t know who you were. I told you that.”
I raise my eyebrows for a moment. “Can’t be too careful… Have you ever used sacrificial magic?” I ask, my heart pounding in anticipation of her answer.
“No,” she answers firmly, locking eyes with me. “Never.”
“Then why were you marked as a blood witch?” Zephyr beats me to the punch, leaning forward and cupping his hands together on the tabletop.
“I’d ask my mother why she did it, but she’s dead.” That time, the question struck a nerve. I can feel it, her anger rising.
“How did she die?”
“My father killed her for placing it on me after I was born,” she replies, her gaze dropping to where her hands sit on the table.
“I want to believe you…” I bite my lower lip. “I want to wrap my mind around the idea you were marked without justification, but I also know it’s not possible. You can’t become marked unless blood stains your hands. If it were done as an infant, you wouldn’t have had a chance to sacrifice someone.”
