“Got what?” I move closer to the fire. Once, I would’ve been wary of the witch. Now, after what we’ve done over the past days, I feel as if we’re bonded with blood.
“That seeker is more powerful than he’s let on.” She grimaces at her cauldron that fizzes with purple smoke. “He’s not some idiot foot soldier who was felled by the storm.”
“What do you mean?” I peer into the cauldron.
“Purple.” She runs her fingers through the smoke that oozes and snakes from the black, bubbling mess. “Royalty.”
“Seekers don’t have royalty.” Bladin sits up. “Do they?”
“His blood is powerful. Just what I need.” She pours more from her bucket of entrails, and the cauldron sparks and smokes, the scent of burning flesh heavy on the air.
“Yes.” She takes a ladle and scoops some of the filth out, then pours it into one of Dilrubin’s goblets as he looks on, horrified.
“Drink it.” She hands it to me.
I swallow hard and look at the sludge, my nose wrinkling.
“My lord.” Dilrubin shakes his head.
“Kidding.” She grins, her fangs lengthening. “Use the sun to light it, and then I should be able to see.”
“See what?” Tristano walks in, his eyes almost as tired as I feel. He still wears his travel leathers, and he could use a shower based on the smell he brings with him.
“The curse.” Grimelda holds out the goblet.
“You’re cursed?” Tristano sinks into the chair I vacated.
“Did you get the pixie’s message? Where’s Emma’s mother?”
“Gone.” He shakes his head. “She was gone before I got there. Taken, the villagers said, on a moonless night. No one saw a thing. On top of that, I lost half my soldiers in an ambush when we returned across the border. You’ll never believe what attacked us.”
“Seekers,” Bladin says.
Tristano glares. “Way to steal my big reveal.”
Bladin shrugs. “I’ve been elbow-deep in seeker guts for days.”
“Gross.” Tristano leans forward. “Can I see?”
“Gone?” I cut through their chatter. “No trace of who took her? Did they mention Lord Caroldon?”
“No, not as such.” Tristano shakes his head. “We searched the area, went as far into the Nightlands as we dared without getting caught. There was nothing.”
What am I going to tell Emma? I promised her I’d keep her mother safe, and I’ve already failed.
“Mylord.” Grimelda taps her foot. “The magic’s a-wasting. Blast it good so I can see.” She pushes the goblet closer to my face.
I summon bright light above the goblet, the sun shining through it as I lower the orb into the dark liquid.
Grimelda doesn’t look at the fire. She looks at me, squinting as the light engulfs the entire goblet yet leaves her unharmed.
“What is that?” Tristano leans closer, his gaze on my face. “There are purple lines, like gossamer strands.”
“What?” I look down but don’t see anything.
“The curse. It’s woven around him like a spider’s web.” She smiles, admiration in her eyes. “Sewed up tight, this curse is. Very pretty.”
“Can you break it?” Bladin peers at me.
