Page 38 of Blood Court (Cursed Darkness #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

LYSITHEA

Aeliana’s face contorts into rage, and she lunges for me. I grip the book tighter and step back, coiling my magic to blast at her, but I don’t need to.

Blackgrove appears in front of me, his face giving nothing away as he comes face-to-face with the Nox Siren he joined together with for the first group.

“Aeliana,” Blackgrove says, his voice carrying centuries of weariness. “Still dramatic as ever, I see.”

She freezes mid-lunge, her violet eyes wide with something that might be fear. Or fury. Hard to tell with ancient Nox Sirens. “Thane.”

“You’re trespassing,” he continues. “The library is for current students only.”

I watch this interaction with wide eyes, ready to defend myself if need be. Neither moves, but the tension crackles like lightning about to strike.

“She needs to understand,” Aeliana hisses. “The purpose. The cost.”

“Back in your box, Aeliana,” Blackgrove says casually and clicks his fingers.

The ancient Nox Siren screeches as she dissipates, her departure leaving a sudden silence.

I don’t have words. Did Blackgrove know about this supposed utopia?

“Did you know?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. The book trembles in my hands, its scaled binding warm against my cold fingers.

Blackgrove turns to face me, his ice-blue eyes unreadable. “Know what, Miss Lysithea?”

“About the utopia. About what completing the grimoire really means.” I clutch the book tighter, feeling like the walls of the alcove are closing in around me. “A realm where lies cannot exist. Where truth reigns supreme, no matter how brutal.”

“What do you think?”

I search his eyes. “Is that really what you want?”

“No. Which is why I trust you to do the right thing.”

He vanishes again, leaving me with my head spinning and my thoughts running rampant. What the hell is going on?

The right thing isn’t to create some weird nirvana where everyone blurts out every single thought in their head, regardless of what it will do or who it will hurt.

‘Does my bum look big in this’ will become a question no one will want to ask.

Is that really a realm in which we want to live?

Where we are oppressed indirectly due to painful truths?

I mean, I’m not a fan of lies, the big ones, who is?

But this… this will cause more harm than good.

There has to be a way around this. It’s adding more questions, more work, more everything onto our plate, but I won’t subject this realm to a god who claims to believe in absolute truth by eradicating all lies, even the small ones that might make the difference between someone living and dying.

I slam the book shut. The scaled cover feels slick and wrong under my fingers.

So that’s the grand plan. Turn the entire realm into a fucking truth serum support group.

A world without mercy, without choice, without the little lies that make life bearable.

Paradise for a god. Hell for everyone else.

I storm out of the alcove, the shadows parting before me like a curtain. The other students in the library look up from their books, their quiet study session interrupted by the rage rolling off me in waves. I don’t give a shit.

I meet the guys coming in as I’m leaving. They must have felt the shift in magic, the arrival and departure of an ancient power.

“What was that?” Dathan asks, his silver eyes scanning me for injuries.

“A visit from one of my kind, apparently kept in a box by Blackgrove.” I screw up my face, wondering if he meant that literally. “And we have a new mission objective.”

“Which is?” Verik asks, his gaze intense.

I look at each of them, my protectors, my monsters, my truth. “We’re stopping our book from turning this world into a hell utopia of absolute honesty.”

Dathan frowns. “What?”

I relay Aeliana’s vision of paradise. A world scrubbed clean of every white lie, every comforting falsehood. A realm of brutal, unfiltered honesty.

“So if I asked you if my dick were too small, you’d have to say yes?” Dathan asks, a slow, wicked grin spreading across his face.

“If your dick was too small, yes,” I snap.

“So it’s not?” he asks.

Verik smacks him on the back of the head. “Get a grip. Imagine a world with no sarcasm. No bullshit. Just facts.” He shudders. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Evren nods, his expression grim. He gets it. A world where you can’t hide the truth of your pain behind a wall of silence would be his own personal hell.

“Blackgrove knows,” I add, the words tasting like ash. “He basically told me he’s counting on me to stop it. To make the right choice. Those were his words.”

“Right. We’re meant to kill a gatekeeper, finish this god-grimoire, forge a crown to make you a god and somewhere in all that, figure out how to defy the very nature of the power we’re using to do it?” Verik summarises, running a hand through his hair. “Shit just went up a level.”

“We just add it to the list,” Dathan says, his good humour gone. He’s all business now. “First, we deal with the Warden. One problem at a time.”

“That reminds me… it is a problem that can only be summoned by lies,” I say, holding up the book Aeliana interrupted me from reading. “And can only be killed by absolute truth.”

“Okay, well, that doesn’t sound so hard.”

Evren groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re a dick, you know that,” Verik mutters.

“Is that the absolute truth, or are you trying to make me feel better?” Dathan shoots back.

“You think being a dick is a good thing?” I ask incredulously.

“It’s a great thing. Keeps people at arm’s distance.”

“Even us?”

He purses his lips. “Obviously not.”

“Then shut the fuck up and think of a solution instead of trying to push us away!”

He growls, but when I shoot him a death stare, he shuts up.

“This is what I’m talking about,” I state. “This is what the world would be like if we give the book what it wants.”

“But if you become a god in your own right, surely you can counteract this?” Verik asks.

“How?”

“Only a god can kill a god.”

“Okay, but what about the opposition forces? If you think about it, aren’t they the ones keeping this realm as it is? Aren’t they the “good guys”?” I use air quotes.

“Well, technically, yeah, I guess so, but they obviously have ulterior motives,” Dathan says, finally being serious.

“They poisoned you. They sent assassins after us. Their ‘ulterior motives’ involve us dead and this realm under their control. They’re not good guys.

They’re just the other brand of arsehole,” Verik says.

“Two sides of the same shitty coin. We’re the third side.

The one that lands on its edge and tells them both to fuck off. ”

“So, the Warden,” I say, pushing the moral headache aside for the more immediate one. “That is the immediate next step. How do we summon a gatekeeper of deception?”

Evren whispers, his voice a rough rasp, “A lie that changes reality.”

We all look at each other. The biggest lie of all. The one that underpins this entire mess.

“We have to go back to the Blood Court,” I say, my stomach twisting into a knot. “We have to sit on those thrones and tell the most convincing lie of our lives.”

“Which is?” Verik asks, his arms crossed.

I meet their gazes, one by one. Nightmare, Hellfire, Death. My monsters. My truth. “That we don’t need each other. That we are all in this for ourselves.”