I nod.
He smiles and selects an envelope and a small, empty vial from his desk before approaching with his walking stick.
“Excellent. On to more business, then. Engela Zuma wrote this missive for you. It contains exact descriptions of those immortals’life links, as she calls them, along with many of their safehouses and anything else she believes you may find useful. I only ask for two ounces of your blood in return.”
Silas’s gaze snaps to his mentor. “Absolutely fucking not. Her blood is mine.”
“And mine,” Crypt calls from the threshold in a sing-song voice.
That earns a sharp glare from Everett. “Shut up, freak.”
“Why the fuck do you want my mate’s blood?” Baelfire demands, lounging in one of the settees. It’s an antique piece of furniture clearly made for smaller people, so he looks comedically burly in it.
The Garnet Wizard looks at me. “They’re terribly possessive. And clingy.”
I smirk in agreement. “Like a bad rash. I’m a lucky revenant.”
Just admit you love us already,Everett’s voice teases in my head.
I roll my eyes and set down the etherium, getting back to the wizard’s request. “You all need to relax. It’s just two ounces of blood.”
Silas grumbles unhappily about it and goes to browse through books on one wall under a section labeled “Restricted for Fools.”
What are you looking for?I ask him telepathically.
Anything he has on necromancy that I can borrow. I must adapt and learn new spells to complement what I am now.
The Garnet Wizard isn’t aware of our internal conversation as he offers me the vial and a large needle.
“Keep the needle,” I grumble, pulling out one of my other daggers to slice through my palm.
I hold my hand over the tiny glass, watching it fill up. Baelfire grunts unhappily about it while Everett quickly stands at the ready with a clean rag he picked up somewhere in this wannabe alchemist lab.
“Why do you want my blood, anyway? Revenant blood is exactly like Undead blood.”
The Garnet Wizard throws his head back in a boisterous laugh, again giving me the impression that I’m missing something. “My dear Maven, that is certainly not the case, for Silas loathes the taste of Undead blood.”
Silas frowns, looking up from an old grimoire. “That’s true, actually. The magic in your blood tastes nothing at all like the Undead.”
It must be because of all the experimentation. Or perhaps the gods made me tasty just for you for the sake of sticking us in a quintet together,I shrug, keeping it telepathic.
Perhaps, he echoes, now lost in thought.
When the vial is full, Everett quickly wraps my hand, his touch as gentle as silk. I clean and restash the dagger. As I do, my sleeve moves, and the Garnet Wizard tips his head when he sees Pierce sheathed to my forearm.
“By the gods. Adamantine. I’ve studied weapons formed in the Nether extensively, and I must say that one appears to be of excellent workmanship. Did you make it?”
I shake my head. “It was gifted to me by one of the humans in Amadeus’s citadel.”
I met Olivia when I was twelve. We were the same age, and she was considered a pet of one of the blacksmiths in the citadel. She was fascinated that I came from the mortal world and wouldsneak to see me between my trainings and laboratory sessions. Though I never spoke more than ten or so words to her in all the time we spent together, she declared us friends and stole Pierce from her lich master to give to me as a gift. I thought it was harmless to acquiesce to her attachment to me.
Until Amadeus found out.
She’s the ghost who haunted me the most until Dagon hexed me.
The wizard hums and hands me the letter from Engela, drawing me from my dark memories.
“You should be aware that one of my acolytes recently used a powerful communication spell to speak with someone outside the Sanctuary. The council likely knows your whereabouts if they did not already.”
