We stared at each other for a drawn-out moment, the fury on our faces receding the longer we glared.
Keffa cleared her throat from the corner. “I am glad this family spat has been adjudicated, but we have more pressing matters, you two. It’s the reason I asked to see her, Master Ashfen.”
“That’sLordAshfen,” Skar growled, keeping his eyes narrowed at me.
Keffa rolled her eyes and sighed. “The Loreblood, sir. More important than any of this squawking.”
At mention of the word, I glanced over. “What of it, Sister Caernyd? Skar said you could tell me more about the Loreblood than he knows.”
Keffa shook her head and pushed off from the wall with another heavy sigh. “Ican’t, Madame. But there is something that can tell you more than any Chained Sister knows, right here in Olhav.”
I jolted up straighter, my heart suddenly hammering. “What is it?”
“The Relic.” She held a hand up before I could reply, chuckling. “I know, I know. A lackluster, unoriginal name. The Relic was once a great treasure to the Chained Sisters, before my time. It is said to be a font of infinite wisdom and knowledge pertaining to the Loreblood.”
My knees bounced excitedly. “Where is this Relic? Where can I find it?”
Keffa shared a glance with Skartovius. He angled his head slightly and she continued. “The Relic is said to sit among the vaults of the ten-story Tanmount compound in the Commerce Ward, stuffed away with other glittering treasures the Gilded Liege hoards.”
“The Gilded Liege?”
“Liolen Sesk, interfolk overliege of the Commerce Ward,” Skar answered. “One of the Five Ministries we plan to topple.”
I started, eyes bulging. “An interfolknobleblood?”
He smirked. “The wealthiest in all the land, in fact. Ironic, isn’t it?”
Yes, it was cruelly ironic because the transitioned folk of Nuhav and Olhav had historically been treated worse than any other group.Except perhaps in the silver mines, the sole area where they are treated like any other worker. Still not much better than slaves though.
Shearing through me was the thought of Ethera’s blood gushing out of her ruined neck in a gout of red. I shivered and shook the thought from my mind, grabbing my head to make the vision stop.
“This is all fascinating and dandy,” I said, throwing my arms out. “But what are we supposed to do against the richest vampire in Olhav and one of the leaders of the Five Ministries? Politely ask him to hand over the Relic?”
Skar’s smile widened into a wicked grin. “No, love. We’re going to steal it.”
Part
Four
Madame Kleora lifts her quill from the page and sits back. When she starts to slowly clap, it draws me out of my story and I glance up from the table with a frown, brow tilted.
“How quaint a tale you are weaving, Lady Lock,” she says, her lavender lips curling at the corners. Kleora’s porcelain face betrays the mischief in her eyes.
“Mistress?” My wrist-shackles jangle when I cross my arms under my chest.
“You’ve reunited with your comrade and sister-in-arms,” she continues. Her spindly fingers drum the edge of the table. “You’ve reached the crescendo of your tale—”
“Not quite.”
“—and you have mere hours before it all comes crashing down. Tell me, does the burden of your impending mortality weigh you down immensely?”
I shrug. “I’ve had nothing better to do while I wait for my death than spin this yarn for you.” Reaching out, I tap the empty bottle of Cordoi Red on the table, sitting empty between us. “And drinking this far outweighs the senseless beatings I’ve endured from your bloodthrall during the months you’ve kept me here.”
She gives me a mock frown. “Yes, I suppose apologies are in order. Bregsitch can be, well,quiteexcitable in his ministrations. Especially when he doesn’t get his way.” She looks over with an adoring pout to the brutish vampire perched like a sentinel in front of the barred door. “Isn’t that right, my sweet?”
Bregsitch grunts. He sounds like Vallan when he does that.
Turning back to me, Kleora says, “If you had deigned to relay this tale earlier, perhaps the daily thrashings would have ceased earlier as well.”
