Page 38 of A Blade of Blood and Shadow (The Ravaged Kingdom #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Five

I wheeled around to face Silas, hands groping for my daggers. A single bare lightbulb flickered on above me, illuminating the filthy basement.

Dried blood was caked in the mortar between the bricks, and the concrete was stained with more blood and who knew what else.

In the corner was a bucket for Imogen — the source of the putrid stench.

I’d stopped breathing through my nose the moment I’d entered the basement, which was why I hadn’t detected Silas’s scent.

Then I heard footsteps on the stairs, and dread seeped into my gut.

He wasn’t alone.

My spine went stiff as Vince and Bruno appeared behind him, their eyes dancing with hatred and anticipation.

Silas had known I’d come for Imogen when I thought the other hunters were out.

He must have been keeping them close these past few nights, waiting for the moment I dismantled his wards to summon them back to the house.

“Catch one witch, catch another,” he drawled, that familiar voice crawling over my skin and eliciting a shudder. “I knew you two were thick as thieves. Knew you’d eventually come for her.”

I narrowed my eyes at his choice of words. Witch .

It confirmed Kaden’s theory that Silas had known what I was all along — that he’d let me believe I was weaker than the others, some pitiful half-mortal whom no one else would protect.

“You’ll have to show me how you unraveled my wards,” he said lazily, drawing the long knife he wore at his belt and turning it so the blade flashed in the light. “I would ask the bitch who wove them in the first place, but I already sold her.”

There was a rumble of chuckles from the men as they fanned out around the basement.

It wasn’t just Vince and Bruno he’d summoned. Alessio and Kyle were here too.

My breathing became shallow, and my heart thudded wildly. I’d only planned on fighting Silas, and even then I’d been counting on the element of surprise.

I was no match for five hunters — certainly not in a confined space like this.

There was only one way out of this basement — the door that they were blocking. I’d wear myself out trying to fight them all, and then they’d take their time killing me.

I needed to level the playing field.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kyle flanking me. I threw out a dagger, which landed in his upper arm — a diversion.

Kyle hissed in pain, and for a split second, every set of eyes followed the path my dagger had taken. I immediately threw another — this one lodging in Bruno’s throat .

There was a nasty gurgle, and Bruno’s eyes bugged out as blood poured from his throat. I sank another dagger into his exposed abdomen, and Bruno fell to his knees.

His whole body quivered as his face swelled in terror and agony. He couldn’t remove the daggers without causing more damage, so he just knelt there, frozen.

No one tried to help him.

Silas rolled his eyes at how easily his hunter had fallen, but I didn’t feel smug or victorious. I just felt sick.

There was no camaraderie amongst hunters. No love. No loyalty.

To Silas, Bruno was expendable. We all were. And yet Silas made no move to kill me. Nor did any of the others.

It occurred to me that Silas might not want me dead — that I might be worth more to him alive. A witch could fetch a high price from traffickers, but a half-huntress, half-witch descended from the Coranthe line . . .

My stomach clenched at the thought.

Silas wasn’t going to kill me. He was going to sell me to the highest bidder.

My body thrummed with panic as the other hunters closed in.

This wasn’t the plan. Silas was supposed to be alone. I’d counted on his other hunters being gone so I could get Imogen out and return to finish him.

Having her here was a huge disadvantage. Imogen was unarmed, untrained, and weakened from her time in captivity.

Get up , I silently implored my friend.

If I was going to fight my way out of here, I needed her on her feet — ready to run the moment I managed to cut a path through Silas’s men .

As if she’d sensed my plea, Imogen stirred, and Silas’s cold eyes flashed in her direction before flicking back to me. A cunning smile stretched across his face.

“Do you know that when the original witch wove those wards you so expertly destroyed, she and I made an arrangement?”

My chest tightened at the barely restrained glee in his voice.

“She wanted her freedom, you see, and I couldn’t have her double-crossing me. Couldn’t have her fucking me over by weaving some useless wards that would let my enemies discover this house and creep in to slit my throat.” He let out a cold huff of laughter. “So we made a blood oath, she and I.”

A fresh wave of dread seeped into my gut, and I wondered frantically why he was telling me this.

A blood oath was an antiquated ritual that had fallen out of use because of the strength of the magic involved — as permanent and unbreakable as the bargain I’d struck with Caladwyn.

“I made her bind her own life to those wards,” Silas continued. “If they ever faltered or worked against me . . .”

A shiver rolled down my spine. The witch would die — might be dying this very moment because I’d unwoven her wards.

Silas rolled on. “There must be a living witch to hold the wards in place, you see. Knowing where the original weaver was headed, I knew I needed a replacement.” His eyes narrowed on me. “You may have been weakhearted for a huntress, but you had your uses.”

The hatred that had been simmering in my gut since I’d entered this house rose to a boil. Not only had Silas known what I was, but he’d been using me all this time to maintain his wards.

“Once the wards are bound to a witch, she can always see right through them. Naturally, I couldn’t leave my home undefended against a traitor, so after you left, I had to find myself another to replace you.”

Silas’s eyes glittered with sadistic glee, and a pang of foreboding rippled through me.

“I knew you’d come for your friend eventually — and that there was a chance you’d find a way to destroy my wards in the process. The satisfaction of watching you end your friend’s life is worth the inconvenience of finding a witch capable of weaving new ones.”

I chanced a glance at Imogen, swallowing down the feeling of razor blades clogging my throat. “W-what are you saying?”

“I already told you. Per the blood oath I struck with the original weaver, those wards must be tied to a witch’s life. And since you so expertly dismantled them . . .”

Icy terror unfurled in my chest, freezing over my thundering heart.

I whipped my head around to look at Imogen again, whose complexion had taken on a sickly gray pallor. Her eyes looked glassy. Her lips were bloodless. She’d barely moved from her spot on the mattress, almost as if she couldn’t .

I’d chalked up her listlessness to starvation — and whatever else Silas had put her through. But that look in her eyes, her labored breathing . . .

How had I missed the signs?

I’d seen enough mortals drained in the Quarter to recognize that look when I saw it .

Imogen was dying.

After I’d left, Silas had kidnapped her and linked her life to those wards. And since I’d unwoven them . . .

“Tragic, isn’t it?” Silas crooned.

As the realization slowly sank in, a loud ringing filled my ears.

Imogen was dying, and it was all my fault. Silas had known I’d come to save her, and he’d used that weakness against me.

He took a step forward, but I barely registered the threat. My whole body was shaking with rage and grief — the feeling so powerful I found myself struggling to contain it.

“I am curious, Lyra . . . Where did you uncover these new powers of yours?”

I didn’t reply. My skin was buzzing with that magic I’d tapped into earlier. Only now it seemed to have taken on a life of its own, thrashing against my insides, begging for release.

Silas had known about my witch half all along. He’d kept the knowledge of what I was tucked away — kept me weak so that he could use me without fear that I might one day double-cross him.

My lungs burned as I took a breath, fists clenched at my sides.

I was done being lied to, and I was done being used.

I wasn’t some poor injured bird Silas had taken in, only to keep locked away in a cage.

No. I was a bird of prey whose wings he thought he’d clipped, and I was ready to devour him whole.

I didn’t think before I flung my next dagger — aiming for Silas’s throat .

His reaction was effortless, the movement infinitesimal. So small that my blade still nicked the side of his neck before it clattered against the opposite wall.

He chuckled. Inside, I was seething.

Never waste energy on lesser prey . It was one of Silas’s fucked-up maxims.

He thought he’d break me by revealing Imogen’s fate, but he was wrong.

As the other hunters advanced, I closed my eyes and summoned the image of the glowing golden pattern I’d seen woven into the wards around Silas’s house. It wasn’t a rune — not exactly — but it had the same power as one.

With the pattern of those intricate golden threads burned into my mind, I threw up a ward around myself and watched the hunters’ faces fall in bewilderment and fear.

Satisfaction hummed through me. They couldn’t see me — had no idea where I was. The ward I’d woven around myself wavered as I moved, but I kept my focus on those glowing golden threads, and the illusion held as I advanced.

I went for Vince first — cutting a vicious slice across his throat with the edge of my blade. I felt no remorse as his eyes bulged, blood spurting from the wound.

I wheeled to face the others, whose faces had drained of color. Kyle was gaping at Vince’s crumpled form, but Alessio’s eyes darted around the room.

The predator inside me purred. He couldn’t track me. Hidden behind the ward, I had no scent. Made no sound.

It was every hunter’s worst nightmare.