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My ravens killed all of them. Dozens. Until the soil was muddy with blood, and the trees drank down what I’d spilled. I am why the roots grow red in the Blood Woods. I am the rumor of horrors within. My Darkness. My pain. My nightmares. The ravens—they are the truth of my Darkness, the extent of the chaos and rage I keep at bay.
Galvin was afraid of Lonan because his Darkness killed his rabbit.
He has no idea that mine is so much worse.
Fear clogs my throat as I stare up at the monsters of my own making. “Come back,” I beg. I can’t watch this again. I know what they will do.
Three eyes flash in the dark. “We think it’s time, dear girl, that you release the Darkness within you.”
And then they take flight, sweeping through the halls, their wings and their wrath reverberating off the walls. My head bows.
Whatever happens next will be my fault.
Chapter Forty-Eight
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I bite.
Armed with the silver stake, we’ve gone in search of Galvin, led by the tether of the bloodbond. I bear the stake, murder and the dawn on my mind. I am not thinking about how desperately I defended Lonan, about how unfathomable his turning felt. I am not thinking about the ravens now unleashed on the school. I am not thinking about how I am about to defy Fate and the Saints and the stars. I am not thinking about Lonan. Lonan. Lonan.
“You’re prowling like a lion,” he says. “I can practically hear you growling.”
“Can you blame me?”
“You always were intolerable when cranky.”
My head snaps toward him. “What does that mean?”
He isn’t the least bit intimidated by the venom in my tone. “Not enough sleep. Not enough food. Approaching you under those conditions is a death wish.”
“Fuck off, Lonan.”
“My point exactly.”
We’re stalking the easternmost wing of the school—where all magical combat training is held. This part of the school is the most used by students and the most avoided by visitors. With all of its exposure to the magic of untrained meigas, it’s become rather prone to magical anomalies. I stop before the door to one of the training rooms.
“Here?” Lonan asks.
“Why not?” This is where the tether has drawn me.
He shrugs and pushes the doors open.
Darkness fills the wide room beyond. This is the space we use for combat training. The floor is strewn with practice dummies, set in perfect rows across the dusty floor. Anchored with large weights, their stitched leather bodies marked with X’s in bright red paint to teach us where to strike, their faces featureless. An inanimate army.
“You’re sure he’s nearby?” Lonan asks.
“As sure as I can be.”
We creep through the lines of dummies, watching the shadows, sword and scythe in hand.
“Fontaine, when we find him—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Because I know what he’s going to say. I know what’s at stake. The bloodbond is still intact. We don’t know what killing Galvin will do to me.
“I can’t let you risk yourself.”
“What, because of some story? Because Galvin and I are supposed to heal all magic? An entire war has been fought over the division of Dark and Light, Lonan. A war over ideas—right and wrong, good and evil. It’s not going to be magically fixed by a true love. That only happens in fairy tales.”
“You know that’s not why I’m against this.” He locks eyes with me, and I’m momentarily held hostage by everything that fiery stare holds—the promise of violence and unwavering fealty of a knight.
