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“Ignatius,” I call, unable to move from the spot. “What about Cara? Is she alright? Did Darius get to her on time?”
“Your friend is safe,” he assures me without slowing down, turning the corner into the living room and disappearing from my line of sight.
Cara is safe.I repeat it over and over silently like a mantra until my anxiety settles a little.Darius saved her and she’s fine. She’s fine.
“Can I go see her after this?” I ask, my feet finally ungluing from the floor. I hurry into the living room to find Ignatius placing a collection of items on the coffee table in the middle of the room. “Or would it be better to see her now?”
He stops what he’s doing and meets my gaze, the corners of his mouth sagging for the first time, and my heart stutters.
“Ignatius…” My voice barely sounds like my own. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”
He sighs slightly and shrugs his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets and I can tell it’s not good news.
“You said she was fine…”
“Cara is fine,” he repeats. “But she was quite shaken up when Darius found her. I’ll just say, he made it in the nick of time. For her safety and sanity, we decided it was best to wipe her memory. She doesn’t remember being taken or going to the club at all. I don’t think she remembers meeting up with you, in fact. It’s like she never knew you were here.”
Nausea turns my stomach, and I swallow down the tidal wave of emotions threatening to bubble up as I take in Ignatius’ words. The most important thing is that she’s safe. Ignatius and Darius took care of her. That’s the important thing.
Do I wish she remembered my apology and the time we spent together? Yes.
It hurts thinking that she still doesn’t know what happened to me after I disappeared with my mysterious boyfriends, but I can always apologize again later.
But at least she’s safe.
“Oh,” is all I manage to say before Ignatius turns his attention to the coffee table and plops down on the ground with his legs crossed.
“We don’t make a habit of wiping peoples’ memories because it’s a particularly difficult piece of magic to deal with, but our biggest responsibility is to keep the existence of monsters undiscovered,” he goes on, arranging the trinkets on the table. I’m hardly paying attention, my mind still struggling to churn through everything I’ve seen and heard in the last several minutes. “I’m sure you understand.”
I nod numbly and make my way over to the table, taking a seat across from him. I briefly remember the time we visited his home in Havec, when we found out I have an inkling of sorcerer blood in me. I have a similar feeling now, eagerness wrapped in a prickly blanket of anxiety, as he gets to work.
“I must warn you,” he says, his piercing green eyes burning holes into mine like lasers. “This might hurt just a bit.”
ChapterTwenty-Five
DEVYN
Itry to follow Ignatius’ directions, closing my eyes and placing both my hands face up on the table before me. I’m tempted to peek as he shuffles around and gently knocks the items on the table together, but nerves trump my curiosity and I try to focus on taking steady breaths instead.
“I’m going to cut your palm,” he says, making nerves skitter up my back. I flinch in anticipation, but before I can completely brace myself, something sharp slides across my hand, followed by white-hot pain. I cry out, my eyes finally flying open.
A crimson line beads with blood across my palm, and I feel lightheaded at the sight, the room swimming around me. Ignatius reaches for my hand, turning it sideways and letting beads of blood roll off into a small chalice.
I try to count them to ground myself, but it only makes the swimming feeling worse. Panic pushes to the forefront of my mind.
Pull yourself together, Devyn.
How can I possibly expect to survive a war, let alone help in the fight, if I’m taken out by a little scratch?
I refuse to be so pitiful, and I beat back the light-headed feeling.
When he’s collected enough, he wraps a bandage around my hand and I pull it to me like a wounded animal, afraid he might decide he needs to cut me again if I leave it anywhere near him.
“That hurt,” I say pointedly, and his mouth ticks up in a smirk.
“I told you it would.”
“You said itmight.”
