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“Shut up,” says Blaise, and the healer flinches.
But Blaise isn’t talking to the healer.
At her belt hangs the adamant box in which the parasite is trapped.
I don’t know what it’s saying to her, but I can see the way Blaise’s mind is whirring to treacherous places, so I place my hand on her shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do, either,” I say, though it makes my chest feel as if it’s being sawn in two. “Nothing that would give this girl her life back.”
In the end, Blaise lets the healer place the vial to the girl’s lips. Almost instantly, the muscles in the child’s face relax. Heaviness overcomes her limbs.
Blaise holds the girl until her heart slows to a stop.
And for a long while after that.
We learn, as we leave the healer’s cottage, that just like this village, Othian was attacked, left in ruins by an onslaught of otherworldly monsters.
I watch Blaise as we overhear the whispers on the streets. She pales with each word, and I know just what she’s leaning in close to hear.
“The king is dead,” says another. Blaise’s eyes go wide, her body rigid.
“And the prince?” she asks, breaking away from me before I can catch her arm. I follow, apprehensive. I might have made an exception for the girl, but we don’t need to be interacting with people, risking being recognized. We need to listen in from the shadows, but Blaise is much too impulsive to remember that.
The male takes a swig of his ale. “There is no prince,” he says.
Rage and despair boils in Blaise’s eyes, and for a moment, I don’t know what I’ll do if she attacks the unassuming male. Am unsure what I could do up against a stalker of the night. But then the man lets out a belly laugh and says, “Can’t be a prince, because the prince is the king now.”
“And the princess?”
“Well, I suppose that would make her queen, now wouldn’t it?”
Blaise’s chest heaves, but something like relief seems to calm the bloodlust in her eyes. “And their child?”
The male frowns. “Haven’t heard of no child, miss.”
Blaise is quiet for the rest of the journey. She barely says anything as we set up camp in a tent so she could escape the heat of the sun come morning.
“It’s my fault,” she says. “I made Asha open the Rip. I’m the one who released those terrible creatures into this world. They’ve destroyed everything. Evander’s home. My home. It’s gone, and it’s all my fault. Even the king.” She chokes back a miserable laugh. “I always hated that male, but he was kind to my father, kind to me. If he’d let me rot on the streets, hadn’t given me the job of a servant…I know he didn’t do it out of kindness, but it was a favor. If he hadn’t done it, he wouldn’t be dead now.
“It’s my fault that little girl, that Erida, died. My fault that she doesn’t get to train as a healer. That she doesn’t get to live. My fault that she suffered for days.”
She stares off into the distance, as if still grappling with the injustice of it all. I can’t help but notice the way she doesn’t bring up the Prince and Princess of Dwellen’s child again. That must have been the part of the story she omitted earlier. I know better than to push someone in this state, though.
“From the way they were talking in town, the creatures swept into Othian in an organized effort,” I say, curious, my mind whirling in horror at that idea, but also wishing to steer Blaise away from the guilt she allows to engulf her. It rarely seems productive, and besides, I often catch glimmers of bloodlust when she’s emotional. I’m not really in the mood to have my arteries bled. “I’ve heard the legends, just like anyone else. But I had no idea the creatures were that…sentient.”
Blaise blinks back tears, and her eyes come into focus. “They’re not. At least, I don’t think they are. I mean, I think they have ways of communicating with each other like any animal, but it’s Az who’s controlling them. He performed a ritual over the Rip before we opened it, one that bound them to him. And then he…” She swallows, like the words are caught in her throat. When she finally does speak, it’s like she’s having to spit out the words lest they defile her mouth. “He performed a bloodsharing ritual”—she shudders visibly—“with them.”
I cock an eyebrow, and she goes on to explain. “Bloodsharing is a ritual used among vampires. It gives each member full authority over the other. It’s like a mating bond, or a marriage ritual. The most intimate thing a couple could experience. If it happens with a human…” She licks her lips nervously, her eyes darting to her knees. “It throws the balance of power off, giving the human more power than the vampire, because they don’t have any magic to offer. I guess Az didn’t have any magic to offer the Others. Either that, or his being more sentient gave him power over them, but either way, he can control them now.”
I take in a breath, steadying myself as Blaise’s words swim through my mind.
“So it’s the control of them that’s the problem?”
She shrugs.
“And what if we had a way of making that the solution?”
Blaise flares her nostrils. “I thought you said you weren’t that powerful.”
I had said that, back when Blaise had first informed me of her and Nox’s plan. I suck in a breath, bristling, but Blaise stops walking all the same.
