“My arrow was imbued with a spell that strips a person of all active glamors and illusory magic. It’s just a wound to her hand.”
“Do not speak the obvious to me,” Garin snarled. “She is still partially glamored, and her body is pulsing with magic, but she won’t wake.”
Still glamored?What did he mean?
Adelaide interrupted them from near her head. “Her breathing is quick. Drink, then feed her your blood, Garin. It’ll heal her.”
“No.”
No?Somehow his answer shocked her. His hesitation to turn her wasunderstandable. She wasn’t sure it was something she would choose over death, either. But healing her? Why wouldn’t he do it?
Paralyzed, Lilac itched to move, to scream. Others would suffer without her; the Daemons and her kingdom needed her, but that wasn’t at the forefront of her concerns.
She was selfish. Angry. How dare life be ripped so violently from her fingertips. She had a kingdom to fix, a job to do. Everyone to prove wrong.
A vampire to bed again and again. His hand to hold, his mouth to kiss. She’d barely lived. She focused on the pain in his voice, on the fury and spite surging inside of her—anything was better than allowing herself to crumble under the stifling agony.
Save me, you bloodsucking asshole.
“The blood exchange alone would not save her,” drawled the second voice. “She’s not exactly dying. Her pulse is there, enough to buy you time to make a decision. You should be able to hear it, vampire.”
“Not exactly dying.” His words were venomous. “I can also hear the rattle in her chest. I refuse to believe there is nothing you magic folk can do.”
The first voice replied, “We don’t have magic folk where we’re from. We are theYao Guài. We reign over arcane ingredients and transport for Emperor Shizong and other influential parties, though the fugitive we seek is of personal interest. He is a most powerful warlock, eternal in his youth, golden hair. Born of an incubus and a sorceress. We’ve tracked him across continents.”
“And what do you want with him?” spat Garin.
“He owes us after paying with counterfeit coin.”
“That’s it?” Adelaide made a skeptical noise. “And you thought that drunk warlock was him?”
“We were traveling to the coast when my sparrowhawk began tracking him,” said the first voice, tinged in regret. “She led us to your carriage. She has never been mistaken.”
“Well, she was,” Garin said, his fingertips caressing Lilac’s arm, her shoulder. A tingling numbness had set into her hands. “This is a clear mistake. She’s not supposed to—” He took a deep breath, and by the shuddering sound Lilac knew there were tears. “This wasn’t supposed tohappen. There are potions, spells. Ones that can heal her from the inside out.”
“Of course there are,” the second voice interjected dryly. “And there are those who can heal with their hands. Bonemenders, such as Feiyan. But to stop any bleeding, you would need some sort of tonic or a talented Bloodsmith. Alas, I am only an archer.”
The first voice—Feiyan—interjected. “You are so much more than an archer, Na. Even if Xiu was mistaken, the warlockmustbe in this area, lurking in the forest somewhere. He is the only person I have known to have come back from death, over and over.”
“My sister is right,” agreed Na. “He might be able to heal her. Ifyoupaid his debt to us, he would be required to fix your queen. Or, if he cannot, he would fulfill any duty, however you see fit.”
“How much does he owe you?”
Adelaide made a sound of disgust before they could answer. “Don’t pay them! We don’t even know what he looks like or where he is?—”
“Here,” said Garin. A bag of coins clinked near Lilac’s head. “Is that enough?”
“It is plenty,” said Na.
“You chased him across continents forthat?” said Adelaide.
There was a warning edge to Na’s tone. “No one gets away with theft from the Midraal Market without paying. Not even death itself will erase a debt to us.” The bag of coin jingled as Na retrieved it. “But now his debt is paid in full, and he is released by…?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Adelaide’s answer was frosty.
“We simply must know who released the almighty Myrddin of his debt.”
There was an intake of breath from Adelaide at the warlock’s name. “Myrddin?”
