Page 35 of Queen of the Crimson Throne (Queen of Blood and Stardust #2)

35

LUCIANA

As tired as I was after the events of the night, I couldn’t sleep.

I slept for a few hours after we first arrived back at the palace, but after I awoke I couldn’t fall back asleep. My wind whirled with too many questions. Too many theories.

There was so much to do and too little time to do it.

That’s how I found myself decoding the second half of Hecate’s book until the sun rose.

I had still failed to uncover anything helpful, but I was getting faster at decoding the book. I rewrote everything I translated, that’s what took half the time.

If only I could uncover a spell that could transcribe the book for me, wouldn’t that be helpful? But I wanted to get as much done as possible before I had to leave back to Arcadia this afternoon. As much as I wished I could stay here, I still had duties to attend to, duties my mother would not let me abandon much longer, no matter the circumstances.

So this afternoon I’d say goodbye to my friends and transport back to Arcadia to continue to prepare for a crown I had no interest in.

I’d much rather continue to spend my days lost in ancient witch texts .

I made my way to the palace dungeon, where we had all agreed to meet this morning to figure out what the abomination was that attacked us last night.

Whatever it was, it was rotting. I could smell it already from the top step of the descent into the dungeon.

No one else had arrived yet, so I let myself into the cell. It was unlocked and unguarded, stupid, even if it was dead.

I summoned air to my fingertips and made a barrier around the corpse. It didn’t block out the stench entirely, but it helped.

I knelt next to the corpse, surveying the rotting flesh as best as I could.

Lennox was right about what she said, the creature had features that resembled a Fae. I had a hunch someone was messing with a dark form of magic, turning fae into killing machines. But why?

I turned my attention to the door, as everyone else arrived in the cell.

“What the fuck is that smell?” Nico’s face scrunched as he entered the cell, everyone else following behind him.

“That is the smell of rotting flesh. Be glad I already put a barrier around him.”

“Any idea what it is?” Lennox pushed past the rest of the group.

I shook my head. “No, but you’re onto something. I think it was made, but I don’t know how. Or why.”

They all remained silent as we stared at the corpse.

“I have a theory,” Luka said. I stayed crouched by the body but looked at the vampire prince. “Do you remember the story Caterina told us about when people were first trying to reverse vampirism?”

I don’t think any of us could forget that story. “She mentioned in their failures, they created monsters, abominations, Dhampirs she called them.”

“Witches tits.” I met Luka’s gaze. “You think these monsters are the product of someone trying to reverse vampirism again. ”

His throat bobbed. “There’s no way to know for sure, but it seems like a pretty big coincidence.” My mind whirled as I pieced together the information we had. “I looked into the story Caterina mentioned, about the Dhampirs, last night. When they tried to reverse the vampirism spell or curse or whatever you want to call it—the person’s soul left their body. Essentially, they died, but left a functioning body behind. All that was left in the remnants of their body was a monster. A killing machine. That’s why they finally stopped—the Dhampir’s got out of control. Because there was no longer a soul in the body, it decayed and mutated as it tried to sustain life in a dead body.”

“Did you ever see any pictures?” Lennox asked.

I shook my head. “No, but there were descriptions. “The Dhampir’s fangs mutated—sometimes they shrunk into nothing, other times they grew to a foot long. Their features mutated, but you could still see their resemblance to their Fae self if you looked hard enough.”

Lennox’s eyes met mine. “If these are Dhampirs—” She shuddered. “I want to see if it has the Vanir mark anywhere, they have to be the ones behind this.” Lennox kneeled next to the body. I joined her, searching the Dhampirs body, but we found nothing.

“It doesn’t mean it’s not associated with the Vanir,” I offered.

Lennox sat back on her heels. “I need something to make sense.” The defeat was clear on her face, and I hated seeing it. She had been through so much, suffered so much, and now she was left with all of this.

I could do this for her.

“I have an idea.” I stood. “I don’t know if it will work, but it’s worth trying.” They all stared at me expectantly. “I might be able to use Ichor magic to figure out how this was made. Or what it was made from.”

“How?” Luka pushed off the wall and came to my side.

“I’ve never tried it before, only read about it, but there are cases where witches have used magic to dismantle a being, to figure out how it was created. There’s no guarantee it will work, but I’m willing to try to prove our theory.”

“Not if it will come at an expense to you. I won’t let you,” Lennox argued.

I rolled my eyes. “It will be fine. I want to do this.” A small thrill ran through me at the possibility. I had wanted to try this kind of magic, but never had the reason to.

“I’ll use a preservation spell and bring it with me when I leave this afternoon. I’ll keep you all updated on any progress I make.” If anything, It will give me something to look forward to while back in Arcadia.

“It will take a while, but if it works, it might give us the answers we need.”

We all looked at Lennox, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest. I’d do it even if she told me not to, there was no use in fighting it.

“You want to do it, you’re not just doing this for me?” Lennox searched my face for any sign of hesitancy.

“No, I want to do this. It will be fun.”

“Fine.” She conceded. “But if anything feels even slightly wrong or bad or anything, you stop. Promise?”

“Promise.” The lie slipped off my tongue easily.