“Crimson shroud? Have you been preparing for this?” Winny sees right through Callos. She knows him better than the rest of us, after all.
“Let’s just say the human thinks a lot more like a vampir than we give her credit for. She’s as resourceful as our ancestors.” Callos gives me a respectful nod. One I return. “I knew one of us was going to get caught by the curse, sooner or later. I was thinking this wouldn’t hurt to try.”
What else do we have to lose?I can almost hear him say. I look back to Ruvan; he’s barely breathing now. He looks nothing like the man I knew. The man I… I try to keep my focus on the present.
We move like soldiers, like healers, like desperation.
Every one of Callos’s orders is followed to the letter. I do everything he tells me, and yet I can’t think of a single order after the fact. My body is moving but my mind is far away. It’s wherever Ruvan has gone to, searching for him.
The bond we share is still…so horribly still. Everything stopped for me the moment he collapsed.
Ventos diligently wipes the elixir from the old castle off Ruvan’s body. Winny lays a shroud overtop him, up to his chin. On it is a familiar marker, one I’ve seen many times. It’s the same symbol that was on the silver door deep in the old castle.
“What symbol is this?” I ask Winny as the others continue to prepare themselves.
“The symbol of Solos.”
I point up to the book the statue is holding, what I can only assume is the first tome of blood lore. “It’s different from that one.”
“That’s the mark of blood lore.”
Loretta’s mark, I think, but don’t say. Our focus needs to be on Ruvan right now.
“Is everyone ready?” Callos asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“What do I need to do?” I ask.
“What you’ve been doing,” he says to me. “Exactly as I say.” Callos holds the silver chalice aloft over Ruvan. “Blood of ancient kings, pure as moonlight, we seek to fortify, we seek to strengthen.” He tips the chalice and pours the water over Ruvan.
Like a hot weapon submerged, the water hisses, bubbles, and evaporates. I lunge forward.
Ventos grabs me. “Don’t.”
“It’s hurting him.” Ruvan’s skin is charred in some areas. The shroud continues to steam.
“It’s purifying,” Ventos says with what sounds almost like a note of sympathy. He knows I didn’t witness the first great slumber. I wonder if he sees shades of himself in me, watching as his bloodsworn encased herself. “If he dies from this, he won’t survive the rest.”
I grab my shirt over my heart. I force my breathing to slow. Somewhere, Ruvan is still in there. If my heart beats, so does his. I must be calm and steady for him. I must be stable.
Callos passes the silver chalice to Quinn with his left hand. He extends his right to take the golden chalice from Winny. “Blood of the guardians, blood of the covenant, blood of those who will watch over the long night,” he intones as he laps around the altar, pouring the blood in a circle around Ruvan.
The four others fan out around me, positioning themselves at each of the points of the altar. Callos is still at its center; he motions for me. He speaks softly, just for me to hear, not for the ritual.
“Blood is parchment and life a quill. Everything we do, everything we are, will be, and could be, is all written upon us in our blood. When you became his bloodsworn you were both irrevocably marked. You entwined yourselves. Find the part of him that lives in you. Be a vessel for him in this moment.” Callos meets my eyes. “Save him.”
“But what do I do?” I ask frantically.
“You’ll know.” Callos smiles sadly. “We all encased ourselves. The ritual started with the others, but we were the ones to end it, and it was different for each. I can’t tell you what to do and I can’t do it for you.” He moves to the altar opposite me.
They all place their fingertips lightly on the ring of blood around Ruvan. They close their eyes in unison, and magic fills the air. It sparks like red lightning across the blood, rising like embers.
I stare, dumbfounded.You have to do this, Floriane. You still have so much to tell him.He might not be my forever, but I want the chance to find out.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. I think of him. I think of his hands on my body. I think of the moment that we became bloodsworn, the feeling of his magic—all he is, was, and would be—rushing through me.
Take it, I want to say.Take it all. I give it back if it means I’ll save you.
Invisible hands slide from my shoulders down my arms. My skin puckers to gooseflesh. I shudder. I inhale. My eyes open.
