“What does it mean?” I asked, moving to stand but finding my balance was off.
The woman caught me before I fell and helped steady me. “Slow down. You’ve been through a lot.”
“Who are you?” I changed subjects, the feeling of terror starting to take root in the pit of my stomach as I looked around the unfamiliar chamber. “Where’s Alaric? Where am I?”
“Mari!” Alaric’s familiar voice echoed from outside the hall. Footsteps pounded against the stone floor, and soon Alaric was in the room, promptly shoving the woman out of the way as he took my face in his hands, looking me over for any indication that I was still injured.
“She’s okay,” the woman murmured, moving back towards the exit. “The Council is going to want a word with you both.”
“I know, Nico.” Alaric spared her a cursory glance before turning his attention back to me. “Thank you.”
She nodded, giving me an encouraging smile before leaving the room, the click of her heels echoing against the stone floor.
Alaric led me to a table where a pitcher of water sat. He poured me a glass, and I chugged the entire thing all at once, his hand at my waist, seeming to refuse to let me out of arm’s reach. When I finished chugging the second glass, I slammed it on the old wooden desk, looking into Alaric’s tense expression.
“Where are we? What happened?”
He sighed, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “We are in the New York Bloodwright Council Chambers. I had to take you here to escape that Stonebound and to slow the effects of this.” He pulled my left arm, the one with the golden sigil, up to the light.
“I thought you said I’d be okay.” I pulled my arm back, taking a step back. “And why the hell didn’t you tell me about this place? I thought there weren’t any other Bloodwrights in existence.”
Hurt flashed across Alaric’s face at my rejection. “This place is meant to be secret until a Bloodwright has fully awakened and been initiated. You’re only just emerging. The goal was for me to train you enough on our own and then finish your full training and acceptance as a full Bloodwright. Then you’d be initiated into the society.”
I took his words slowly, nodding. So there were other Bloodwrights beyond just me, Alaric, his dad, and my uncle in New York. Did Uncle Dan know? Why didn’t he tell me?
“And right now,” Alaric interrupted my thoughts. “We need to answer to the Council. I broke a lot of rules these past few days.”
“What rules?”
“For one, bringing you here without you being fully awakened,” he sighed, running his fingers through his messy black hair. “And two, for not telling them about your death mark.”
I glanced at my golden tattoo, rubbing my arm absentmindedly. “Am I going to die?”
My voice felt small and hollow. After everything I had come to know and been through these last few days, the thought of it all ending here seemed cruel.
Alaric’s body tensed, his hands turning into tight fists at his sides. “No. I won’t let that happen.”
“Do you even have a choice?” I shivered as a chill raced down my spine. Instead of responding, Alaric took off his jacket and wrapped it around me.
“Come on,” he finally said, his hand at the small of my back as he led me out of the infirmary and down the stone hall, sconces of candlelight liningthe walls and lighting our way. The underground safehouse smelled of dust and smoke; the cracked walls seemed to pulse and hum with energy, not unlike the ring on my finger. It felt as if these secret chambers were alive.
Alaric led me into a large, vaulted room carved into the bedrock; the walls were lined with black stone and etched with glowing red veins that pulsed faintly. Surrounding us were various portraits of much older people, some looking vaguely familiar. The few bookshelves within the room were stuffed with archaic-looking books and pieces of aged parchment. A circular table sat at the center, with five people seated like judges. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Uncle Dan on the far-left side, sitting next to the woman, Nico, I had met earlier.
“Uncle Dan?” I murmured, trying to make sense of the scene before me. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry, Mari.” He stood, as if to explain himself, and maybe walk over and comfort me. “You weren’t supposed to know, at least not yet.”
“Daniel.” The man at the center of the table spoke, his deep voice in clear demand. “Sit.”
Alaric tensed beside me, continuing to keep his hand on my back as he led me to stand before these five Bloodwrights who must have made up this New York Council.
Besides Uncle Dan and the woman named Nico, there were three others. The man on the far right of the table was an older, tired-looking man, his gray hairdisheveled and his glasses smudged. He was wearing a business suit with the jacket hung over the back of his chair, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, where ink splotches were stained into his fingers. He fidgeted nervously, shuffling papers and books in front of him as he grabbed a pen, most likely to take notes.
Beside him was the tall, fierce woman I instantly recognized as Dr. Duvall, the headmistress of Windsor Academy. She was dressed in her usual all-black, her dark red hair pulled back into a tight bun, stretching her skin back in a way that made it look painful. Her eyes were narrow and bright blue, fixed on me in an assessing sort of way.What was she doing here?
In the middle sat the man who had chastised Uncle Dan. He looked to be about Dan’s age; also in a sharp suit with his black hair slicked back. His dark green eyes were a mirror image of Alaric’s. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like I was looking at Alaric twenty years from now. His gaze flickered between Alaric and me, gaze sharp and already unimpressed by what he saw. There was something about him that seemed familiar to me, and not just because he was clearly Alaric’s dad. There was something in his very presence that sent chills down my spine, making my stomach clench uncomfortably.
I felt myself shrink deeper into Alaric’s jacket, shoving my hands deeper into his pockets. Nico was the only one to smile encouragingly at me, while Uncle Dan looked like he was about to throw up.This wasn’t good.
