“He self-medicates.”
“Any chance you could increase the iron composition?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing since I brought him down into the obsidian tunnels?”
What a devious man Justus Rossi is . . . “Any chance you could poison him quicker?”
“Unfortunately, no. It may kill him.”
“Which is what weallwant, right?”
He sighs. “Yes, but if you’re not the one to kill him, then the Cauldron won’t break Meriam’s curse.”
My eyes widen so fast that my lashes smack my brow bone. That’s whyImust be the one to kill him . . . to break Meriam’s curse. But do I want to break her curse? What if she runs amok and stabs Lore again?
Something thumps outside the closed door, all but wrenching my heart out of my chest.
“Better hurry before he comes back,” Justus murmurs.
As I go back to fastening the buttons, I steer the conversation away from one that may just get Justus tossed in a birdcage of his own. “How did Dargento get your sword?”
“He caught me heading into the tunnels and threatened to spread word of my survival. We struck a bargain—his silence for my prized blade.” A small smile tugs at the corner of Justus’s lips. “I knew I’d get it back eventually.”
“Didn’t he have a sword of his own?”
“I may have convinced him that Meriam magicked the blade to make the man handling it impervious to Crow and Shabbin magic.”
I snort as I imagine how invincible Silvius must’ve felt carrying it around. “To think the blade he thought would keep him safe was the one to end his life.”
“It wasn’t the blade; it was the wielder.” Justus sounds proud. Proud of me. Proud of what I did.
Although pride isn’t the sentiment I harbor at having ended Dargento’s life, I’m no less receptive to Justus’s commendation. “Do you really intend to feed me obsidian?”
His mouth is soft, which is such an odd sight on the forever severe general. “Ground peppercorns. Similar color and texture. Tastier.”
“Why did you tell Dante that Lore was my mate?”
“Would you prefer I’d told him that you’d tapped into Bronwen’s sight because Meriam set your magic loose?”
“No. Most definitely not.” I gnaw on my bottom lip. “So you won’t tell him?”
“No.”
“What if he makes you eat salt?”
“I’ve become good at evading the truth.”
“What of oaths? Do you know a spell that’ll prevent an oath from scoring itself into his skin?”
“The iron threshold of his blood is too high to allow his skin to absorb vows. I’ve tested it just this morning.” A corner of Justus’s mouth kinks up.
As I fasten the last of the buttons, not caring that the material is squashing my breasts since it’s not meant to be worn this way, I think of how Nonna had known my blood was different even though she hadn’t known why.
“Did you try to get them back?” I muse
He frowns. “Who?”
“Nonna and Mamma?”
