That turned the corners of his mouth up. She waited until he’d left the room to return to the ritual.
“Crimson Vanderholt, I call you from Hades. Come forth and answer me.”She repeated the mantra in the language of her ancestors, concentrating on the symbol.
The inside edges of the pentagram bubbled with black oil. It bled like ink to the center of the symbol, pooled, then spiraled into itself.
“Come forth!” she commanded again, and the oil rose, broke apart, became smoky. Legs formed, then a torso. When the smoke faded, a worn woman with wavy blond hair stood before her, wearing a bustier, a tattered skirt, and leather boots. Every part of her was black or a shade of gray, including her somewhat translucent skin. The bags under her eyes loomed the same color black as her lips. Not resurrected, then. A ghost. Good enough for now.
“Who the fuck are you?” the ghost asked.
“I am the one who has called you forth. My spell will force you to respond to my questions. It will be easier for you if you don’t fight giving me the answers I seek.” Eleanor paced around the outer band of the pentagram, assessing the woman. She certainly didn’t look powerful. She had the presence of a half-drowned rat.
“Why would I fight it? No matter what they tell you about Hades, it isn’t the party you expect.” She glanced down at the wolfsbane. “You should have used cannabis,” Crimson said, placing her black-nailed hands on her hips. “I would have come faster.”
Eleanor didn’t know what cannabis was, but she didn’t appreciate her spell being critiqued. “Tell me what role you played in making the offspring of Raven and Gabriel.”
Crimson’s eyes narrowed, and then she laughed. “So my spell worked.” She rubbed her thumb across her chin. “Simple fertility spell with a trap door. I wove Raven’s magic into it so that she couldn’t absorb it and undo it. Tied his life to the sexual act. Forced them to couple within the symbol. Child’s play.”
“Why did you do it?” Eleanor asked through her teeth. “You must have known the offspring of a witch and a dragon would be a monster capable of limitless power.”
Crimson shrugged. “Sort of the point. If you must know, I planned to eat the kid’s heart to achieve immortality.”
Eleanor studied the woman, respect blossoming despite her haggard appearance. Crimson must have been a powerful sorceress, indeed. But something didn’t make sense.
“Are you human?”
“I was.”
“What made you so sure you’d ever see the whelp again?”
Crimson smiled, displaying a mouthful of black-lined teeth. “Raven agreed to it. Witch to witch. A magical covenant. If I broke the spell over her beloved Gabriel, she would owe me her firstborn child.”
“You are owed the child?” Eleanor’s heart began to pound with excitement.
“Unfortunately, a witch’s death causes any magical agreements they entered into to become null and void. I am, shall we say, corporeally challenged? I couldn’t enforce our agreement even if I wanted to.”
Eleanor toyed with the citrine ring on her left hand. “What if you were resurrected?”
Crimson’s dark mouth gaped, the tip of her tongue sliding across her teeth. “I don’t know who you are, lady, but I like the way you think.”
Chapter Sixteen
Asfolk Palace
Rogos
After a long, sleepless night dreaming about Leena, Colin was relieved to learn they’d been given the use of a carriage to travel to Niven and the Temple of the Sacred Pools. He’d been approached by Ambassador Raj last night, after the big announcement, and told that finding the crypt that held the golden grimoire was now the top priority of the lord and new lady of Rogos. Therefore, both Quanling Marjory and Leena would escort him to the temple, where Leena would remain assigned to the mission. After all, no time could be wasted bringing another scribe up to speed.
This was good news to Colin, who considered it a stroke of luck to get a few more days with Leena. It also meant he could meet directly with the commanding general of the archers of Asfolk as they made their plan of attack. He’d already sent a falcon to Sylas, informing him of the turn of events, and met briefly with Rook, the leader of the DOGs in Rogos, at the ball last night. The underground was alive and well, circumventing the Obsidian Guard through a series of tunnels and private homes. With any luck, the move by Rogos and Darnuith would spur Nochtbend to join their cause. The vampires were already heavily invested in the underground.
Only, as he climbed into the carriage, Leena might as well have been a block of ice sitting across from him. She barely looked in his direction. Quanling Marjory boarded behind him, and the carriage jerked into motion. Leena’s mouth seemed bent into a permanent frown, her eyes affixed to a spot outside her window.
“Did you enjoy the banquet last night?” he asked them both to break the tension.
Marjory lit up. “Very much. You must suspect I do not indulge in that sort of eating and drinking very often as Quanling. Our sacred texts encourage a simple lifestyle. It is pleasing to the goddess.” The wrinkles around her lips grew more pronounced. “I suppose it is true that a scroll written by an intoxicated elf would be rather useless to the future of our race, but I must say that an occasional dalliance with such luxuries feels good for the soul. That cake! Glorious.”
He glanced toward Leena, but she did not turn from the window. “I agree it was delicious. I couldn’t quite place the flavor.”
“That is because it was thornfruit. Very rare. As you might guess by the name, it isn’t any fun to harvest and so is only used for extremely special occasions. I’m not surprised you’ve never tried it, even with the time you’ve spent here. I’ve only had it twice in all my years.”
