Page 94
Story: Lady of Shadows
“I imagine whatever food you are provided,” Sorin drawled.
“That food feeds my body, yes, but it does not nourish me. No,my nourishment is far more refined.” This time when she smiled, her teeth appeared, and Sorin saw sharp elongated canines like his own and like a Night Child’s.
“Blood? You want me to get you blood?” Sorin asked. That could be accomplished easily enough. Hell, he’d bet Callan would give a cup of his own mortal blood if it meant getting to Scarlett quickly.
“Not just any blood, young prince,” she crooned. “In exchange for my services, you shall provide me with the blood of a god.”
“A god? Even if I found one, they are formless. They have no bodies to supply blood from,” Sorin argued.
“Then you have nothing to fear, do you?” she asked, her drawings becoming more intricate and precise.
“Sorin, no,” Briar warned. “We promise hernothing.”
Finally, she stood and came to the edge of the cell. “Here is my offer to you, Prince of Fire. I shall supply you with an enchantment that will allow you to Travel to and from one location, carrying two companions. In exchange, you shall provide me with the blood of a god to be brought to me.”
“So you can kill a god?”
“Who said anything about killing a god? I just want a drink of something divine after centuries of starving,” she said coldly, her eyes darkening.
“And what if I never find a god to fulfill such a request? What if I should die before my end of the bargain is fulfilled?” Sorin asked.
“Then I suppose the joke is on me, Prince of Fire,” she replied, that half-smile returning. “But, should you indeed find the blood of a god, I get to decide when I call in the debt.”
Sorin stood still. The blood of a god? That was impossible. What she was asking was impossible. Even still, if he somehow managed to find one, how would she even know? The deal seemed like a godsdamn trap and yet—
“Time is of the essence, is it not, young prince?” The Sorceress was at the bars again, and this time she did wrap her fingers around those shirastone bars. They hissed and steamed under her hands, but she hardly flinched at the magic burning her palms. “What is she worth to you?Would you damn the entire world to save her?” she purred softly.
“Sorin, do not do this. It is a trap,” Briar called, pulling him back from the bars, but Sorin dug in his heels. “We will find another way.”
Sorin wrenched free from his grip and came to the edge of the bars. “What do you know that you are not sharing?” he growled.
“I know that those who seek her are not mortal, young prince,” she whispered softly. “I know that should they secure her before you do, your world is damned anyway. I know that she will be used in ways you cannot even comprehend. I know that she will suffer in ways you cannot even fathom.”
“She is playing you, Sorin, exactly as I said she would,” Briar cried, but he could do nothing here. His magic could not be accessed this deep in the Prison.
“How? How can you know these things?” Sorin asked, ignoring his friend. He felt like he’d so often seen Scarlett look, as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs.
“I may be locked in a cell, but as you said, my knowledge was not stolen from me like my gifts were. Make your choice, Princeling. My offer will not last forever,” the Sorceress snapped, stepping back from the bars.
“It is a bargain,” Sorin said. “Give me what I need.”
“Sorin!” Briar roared from behind him, but it was done. As the words left his lips, there was a faint burning on his left forearm, and he looked down to find a new Mark there. A flame with three diamonds surrounding it. A Bargain Mark, to remain until the debt was fulfilled. But rather than being black like his other Marks, this one was a deep red.
“Give me your blood, young prince,” the Sorceress said, extending her hand to his.
“My blood?”
“It isblood magic, is it not? The name would imply that blood is needed. The enchantments of my cage do not allow me to access my own blood, for obvious reasons, thus I need yours. A slice along the palm will do just fine,”she said simply. Her eyes glimmered with anticipation.
Sorin pulled a dagger from his side and sliced a gash along his palm, blood instantly welling. The Sorceress inhaled deeply again, as if the smell of his blood were as fragrant as flowers. “Such interesting tales your blood tells,” she mused as Sorin extended his bleeding hand to her through the bars.
She gripped his wrist, her fingers freezing against his skin, and twisted his arm sideways. The blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the symbols she had drawn there. She moved his arm so his blood imbued each one, then she released him. He snatched his hand back out of the cell.
“Until next time, Prince of Fire,” she said, her chilling grin returning.
He felt Briar grip his arm right before he was pulled through a rip in the world.
CHAPTER 28
Table of Contents
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