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When a witch drew blood by cutting her skin, the magic used to cast a spell discolored the scar, turning it silver. It was why casting scars were considered beautiful during the Reign of Witches. Many witches made their cuts with care, intentionally creating elaborate designs across their bodies. Some employed skilled artists to do the cutting for them. Popular places were down the arms and back, and along the shoulders, collarbones, and wrists. But these were also highly visible, so after the revolution, witches with scars in these places had been the first to be identified and purged.
Rune’s grandmother had kept her scars contained to her arms. If Rune closed her eyes, she could still see them. The delicate cuts began at the edge of Nan’s collarbone and flowed down to her wrists in silvery designs depicting nautical scenes: a ship in a storm, half-swallowed by waves; sea monsters swimming in the deep.
“You wouldn’thaveto cut yourself,” said Verity.
“What do you mean?” asked Alex from behind them.
Verity glanced back at him. “My sisters used to say that a witch’s skill is a combination of study and practice. The more she learns and memorizes, and the more she consistently practices her spellmarks, the more she excels at her spells. But an equally vital component is the blood she has access to. An accomplished witch can master complex spells using her own fresh blood, or someone else’s. Rune can’t use her own, for obvious reasons, but shecoulduse someone else’s—if they were willing to bear the scars.”
Nan had mentioned it to her once—that some witches used the blood of others to amplify their spells. This was necessary for immense magical workings, such as Majoras and Arcanas—the two highest categories of spellcraft. Majora spells requiredsomeone else’s blood given with permission; Arcana spells required someone else’s blood taken against their will.
Arcanas were the most powerful of all spells and had been outlawed for centuries. Not only were they considered wicked, they came with a considerable cost: if a witch took someone’s blood against their will, the spell using that blood would corrupt the witch. She would crave the power it gave her, and resort to more coercive bloodletting, often killing her sources.
“You’re saying Rune could, for example, use my blood to do magic?” asked Alex.
Verity nodded. “She’s capable of powerful spells. She’s simply working with a diminished resource. Basic spells like Mirages can be done using old blood, but the more powerful spells require the sacrifice offreshblood.”
Alex glanced at Rune, his eyes sparking.
“No,” said Rune, seeing the thoughts in his head. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? If it would help you—”
“Youwould bear the scars.” If Rune were to take Alex’s blood, even with his permission, silver casting scars would appear where she’d cut him. It would put him at too great a risk.
Verity looked like she was about to say something, when the sound of voices in the hall made them all twist toward the door—which shone with a bloody spellmark.
“I need to clean this,” said Rune, realizing the danger she’d put her friend in. She started to rise. “Before someone sees …”
Verity put a hand on her shoulder, pressing lightly down. “Stay here and rest a minute. I’ll clean up.”
Verity left to fetch a bucket of soapy water and a mop, locking the door behind her. In the silence, Rune’s stomach growled. Magic always made her ravenous.
Alex lifted the spell book lying open on the bed. “ ‘PicklockandDeadbolt’?”
From the floor, Rune looked up to find him standing over her. The open spell book in his hands cloaked her in shadow.
“It’s my backup plan,” Rune explained. “In case we can’t find Seraphine before they transfer her.Picklockwill open the more complicated locks of the palace prison.”
Or it would, if I could cast it.
Alex shut the book and frowned down at her.
“You’ve never been inside the palace prison,” he pointed out. “How would you know which locks need picking?”
“Noah Creed took me on a tour of Oakhaven Park once.” Oakhaven Park was the Creed family estate. “His mother is the prison warden. I saw a map on the wall of her study.”
“And the Creeds are throwing a masked ball tomorrow night,” murmured Alex, putting her plan together. “You’re going to steal the map.”
She shook her head. “Too suspicious. Stealing it would alert his mother, who would likely double the prison’s security and put the Blood Guard on high alert.”
Alex sat down beside her on the floor. Together, they took up all the space in Verity’s tiny room that wasn’t claimed by her bed and books. Handing the heavy tome back to Rune, he asked, “So what’s your plan?”
“If I can remember where his mother’s study is, I could trace the map.”
The look on Alex’s face suggested he didn’t think this plan was any better than stealing it outright, but if that’s what he thought, he kept it to himself. “I imagine it’s a large map. Where exactly are you going to hide this tracing while you dance and flirt all night?”
She smirked at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
