37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Evelyn

E velyn paced her cell.

An actual cell.

After Ingrid had reprimanded Belle, Tala, without a word, had grabbed Evelyn with such force, her bicep bruised. She’d escorted Evelyn far from the tower and straight to the damp, dark, miserable dungeons. Other prisoners moaned in the distance, and by their desperate cries and hisses for blood, Evelyn guessed them to be vampyrs.

She shivered, unable to see into the other cells in the limited light. Water trickled, her breath puffed in the air, and the scent of mildew turned her stomach. Fucking flames , this was far worse than the tower.

Evelyn had tried everything to get out. She’d had nothing, aside from the bolts and screws in the hinges of the door, which she’d failed to grasp and remove. Instead, she’d tried to wedge herself through bars, but after all her efforts, she’d been left with bruised shoulders and restless magic raging in her chest.

So, Evelyn paced.

She was angry—angry at herself for getting caught and being so reckless in the first place. This need to prove herself, this drive to earn forgiveness was blinding. Kade had felt close, so close, and she’d gone and possibly ruined his plan. Down here in the dungeons, she was also away from the intel she’d gathered. Matilda’s books and journals. The scribbled words. At least she had witnessed the exchange between Riven and some haunting voice, but that wouldn’t help Kade rescue her. It would be more difficult for him to reach her deep in the dungeons of Drystan Castle.

White rats with red beady eyes scurried along the edge of her barred cell. They paused to sniff and carried on, free to roam the depths of the castle, too small to be noticed. Evelyn gritted her teeth, jealous of their freedom. The rats veered between the bars two cells down. In the flicker of the sconces, their white bodies appeared on the adjacent wall and disappeared into the crevices below. Evelyn scurried to her own wall, running her hands across the seams where the stones of the floor met the bricks. Her hand came across a few divots, far too small for her to fit through. But it was something. Evelyn fell to her hands and knees, laying her ear closer to the crevices. Wind rushed underneath, and the trickling water grew louder. She peered into the cracks. A faint light glowed with promise.

She began to dig. Her fingertips split and bled against the sharp rock, but still, she pulled and pried at the loose rock. Determination to escape swelled within her, and Evelyn didn’t care how much she injured herself. She scraped across the cracks in the brick, over and over, until one stone gave way. Evelyn blinked and stared in disbelief at the hole big enough for her arm to fit through.

Fucking flames , perhaps she had a chance.

She flattened against the ground as much as she could, peering down into the hole. Her heart thudded against the castle’s foundation. Candles. Hundreds. Flickering light. The dungeons were above the altar she and Belle had found. Evelyn backed away, the wrongness and darkness of the space seeping into her cell. In her haste, she pushed her hands against the jagged rock, slicing her sore and worn palm. A single bead of blood ran down and dropped to the cavern below .

It landed on the stone in silence. The same stone where Riven had placed his own blood. It faded. Soaked into the carving until it no longer existed, sucked into nothingness.

The cell rattled. The stones shook. Evelyn braced as debris and dust showered over her.

The shrill voice of a woman cried, “ You. ”

Evelyn scrambled from the hole. Her dress’s skirts tore, her hands and elbows cut against the rocks. Mist clotted the air, ice entered her lungs.

“You dare wear the blood of my brothers and sisters when you call upon me?” the voice boomed.

Evelyn swallowed, searching for where the voice came from, mind racing.

Blood of my brothers and sisters.

The words jarred Evelyn’s memory. The bloodstone—Riven hadn’t worn his when he’d visited the altar. Had that been intentional?

“I… I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t know what it is.”

The echoing voice hummed, thoughtful. “It hides what you are, who you are. It can hide a curse. Hide magic of any kind. In, in, in. All of it goes in, shielded by the blood of fallen gods and goddesses.”

Evelyn stilled, the voice’s earlier words coming to the forefront of her mind. Did the altar belong to a deity? She’d never considered it. There were few left, lost to time. Evelyn had visited one in Cirrillo to pray for her magic to return, but it had been grand, looked after, golden and bright.

A reflection of the goddess it had been created for. The caverns. The castle. The ooziness in the air. This was darkness.

“Who are you?” she asked.

Laughter, cruel and piercing, grated against her skin. The other cells had become lost past the mists, the darkness in hers frosting the bars. As her breath came out ragged, it puffed in the now freezing air. Her fingers began to ache.

“I am the Goddess of the Deep and Darkness. I am named after what you gave me, little one. ”

Gave.

An offering. Like Riven had—blood. Evelyn racked her brain, tried and tried amidst the cold to recall her teachings where a Blood Goddess had ever been mentioned. Never. Not once. The Moon God, the Sun Goddess, the Earth Goddess. Never had she come across such a name.

“How about I show you my power?” the voice echoed in the cell. “How about I show you those of my making?”

The mists began to twist and turn, morphing into people, places into things. The shadows up and reared their heads like serpents and plunged into Evelyn’s being, her mind held by an iron claw of the past.

A young woman sobbed over a motionless body. A man beside her, tears running down his face, stared out into the distance, chanting to himself. Their clothes weren’t of this time. Wear and tear clung to them both. Blood marked them all, too, but not as badly as the blood seeping from the woman, bleeding into the stone of the altar. No candles, no light.

“Father.”

Evelyn sucked in a breath, her heart twisting. She knew that voice.

Tovi—younger, thinner, an innocent sheen in her eyes, different—peered up at the man. Father.

“Mother is gone.”

“No!” the man bellowed. “She is not. Someone will listen!”

Fragments of Evelyn’s friendship with Tovi twisted like roots reaching for water. Her friend was in pain, and she felt it like her own. Not from whatever goddess possessed her mind or the dark magic seeping into her cell, but from the bruised love she still carried for her best friend. This was her family. Before she’d changed. Or turned?

The scene snapped from existence. The voice, the darkness. All of it vanished like evaporating mists. Evelyn blinked—the cell remained the same. No dust, debris, or broken rock. Just the hole she’d dug and her bloody hands. As if she’d imagined it all .

Someone approached through the dungeons, boots echoing off the walls. Their steps hurried than hesitated. Slowly. Creepily. Had a vampyr snuck down to the dungeons to sample the Daughter of the Goddess’s blood? Evelyn peered around the bars of her cell, trying to make out whoever it was.

A small figure passed under the lone sconce, and the features of a friendlier face had Evelyn doing a double take.

“Belle!” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

The beautiful witch’s cerulean eyes roamed over Evelyn as she rushed to her cell’s door. “Are you hurt? You’re crying.”

Evelyn shook her head, wiping away tears she hadn’t known she shed.

“I’m alright,” she said, throat raw.

“Good, because I’m breaking you out.” Belle retrieved a key from her dress pocket and unlocked the cell door.

“What?” Evelyn asked, disbelief making her words breathy.

Belle had been helpful but so timid Evelyn had discredited her ability to be brash. A warm feeling spread through her as she eyed the sweet, gentle witch.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Belle gave her a weak smile. “I couldn’t leave you, not when you’ve been so kind to me. But we don’t have much time. Most of court is headed to tonight’s scheduled fights. Rumor has it that a high-ranking lord supplied new fighters, and the buzz is immense. If you want any chance of surviving Drystan, we’ll need to get the bloodstone off.”

We’ll.

Belle opened the cell's door, and a red smudge on the witch’s blouse caught Evelyn’s attention. She grabbed Belle’s hand, dragging her close.

“Goddess, you’ve been bit.”

Belle pulled away, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “It’s nothing. Henri, a guard, and I have had a few months of fun, but I’ve never… you know.” She averted her gaze to the bite on her neck. “But tonight, I let him.”

“You what?” Evelyn choked .

Belle shrugged, so indifferent. “Vampyrs are practically sedated after they drink blood and have sex. It was the best way to grab the keys.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, I didn’t, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, being bitten is actually quite lovely. Under the right circumstance of course.” Belle pulled her from the cell and tugged her down the hall. She spoke so casually, as if they were talking about breakfast or the weather and not about being bitten by a vampyr.

The door at the end of the hall became visible. They crept closer, and Belle held up a finger to her lips.

Evelyn nodded, mastering her breathing and treading her steps lightly against the stone. Belle eased open the metal door, the hinges a low whine in the dungeon’s silence. Together, they crept up the stairs, taking two at a time. At the top, more light flickered from lanterns on chains and sconces on the walls.

Outside a cracked door, Belle hung the dungeon keys on a hook. As they passed, Evelyn swore she spotted a sleeping guard, armor and uniform littering the ground. She almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

“Now what?” Evelyn whispered as they entered the main hall.

“We head to the library. My sister made your necklace, and her supplies are there.”

“So, you know how to get it off?”

Belle’s brows pinched together. “Well, not exactly.”

Evelyn opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. “We’ll figure it out.”

Trying was better than not, and Evelyn’s resolve matched the warmth and light of her flame, giving her the boost she needed to keep moving forward. Belle was right. If she had any chance of escaping and finding Kade, she’d need her magic back.

Ten agonizing minutes felt like an hour, and sweat beaded at Evelyn’s temples, but eventually the library’s archway came into view. They ducked behind the pillars and kept to the perimeter of the library, hunkering low against the bookshelves. Through the slits between leather-bound books, Evelyn tried to make out anyone else in the library.

No witch. No vampyr. Not even a human servant.

Only her and Belle, scurrying along unseen, like the rats in the dungeons. She motioned for Belle to follow, and together, they dashed through an array of desks.

Potions bubbled away in boiling flasks, black gunk sat unused in a beaker, and fur, hair, and twigs lay taped to an open grimoire.

“Is this Ingrid’s?” Evelyn asked. The magic surrounding it was oozy and thick, like that of the White Lady. The newer pages had weathered with age far quicker than that of the earlier ones, tainted by the dark magic written into the pages.

Belle nodded, flipping through them. She shivered, face flinching as she did so.

“Wait, is it hurting you?” Evelyn asked, grabbing her wrists.

Belle blinked, shaking her head. “Sorry, the dark magic in it is ghastly. I don’t know how my sister stomachs it.”

Evelyn swallowed. “Here, let me flip through it. Maybe since my magic is snuffed down, I won’t be able to feel the effects as much. Point me in the right direction.”

Belle shut her eyes and nodded. “Alright.” Her eyes sprang open, and she exhaled, pointing to a particular section where a raven’s feather stuck out of it. “You’ll find notes on various items there.”

Evelyn turned to the section, expecting a wave of dark magic to hit her. She braced, but instead of pain, something slick and cold slithered over skin, like snakes coiling up her arms. Not painful. Unpleasant. She flipped through the pages, ignoring the sensation and focusing on Ingrid’s notes. She’d label the section Objects, and numerous drawings within depicted the various subject matters waiting beyond the page.

“There,” Belle whispered .

Snug between a bat’s wing and hemlock, a pencil-shaded bloodstone alluded to the gem’s sheen when hit by the light. Her swirly penmanship below read Page 133 .

Evelyn flipped through the grimoire, the slithering dark magic tightening around her the farther she went, but she gritted her teeth and kept on, the promise of getting out of this wretched, cursed place worth the discomfort. When she landed on the bloodstone’s passage, both her and Belle cursed. Ingrid’s notes spilled over the pages. Not a blank space had been left. By the dates, it was a year’s worth of study, detailing the what, where, and how of the bloodstone.

“We don’t have time for this,” Belle whispered.

“No, we don’t,” Evelyn agreed. “But…” She considered the goddess’s words earlier. “I don’t think the bloodstone itself is bad. Your sister placed dark magic on it, and that’s what we need to get rid of. You can do that with your water brotannas.”

Belle stared at her. “Wait, you want me to use my water, not my innate magic? Evelyn—”

“You can do this.”

Doubt and fear contorted Belle’s face. It soured the air, engulfing Evelyn in a place she’d been not too long ago, a scared, soul-tired witch.

Belle struggled to find her words. “I don’t know, I mean, my sister’s magic is probably strong—”

“You’re stronger.” Evelyn’s words were softer than a whisper. “Use the power, your light against it. I believe in you.”

The young witch’s shoulder snapped straighter. “Alright. Fine. I’ll give it a go.”

She hovered her hand over the bloodstone. Nothing happened for a moment, the two witches stared at the other, waiting, until —

The metal casing glowed, dark shadows rising and disappearing into the air. Evelyn’s magic flared to the surface and met no resistance, hovering at the ready. Hot. Fiery. Alive.

“You did it!” she said, face splitting into a wide smile.

Belle jumped. “Did I really?”

Before Evelyn could assure Belle, her magic sensed darkness, a heavier, slicker sensation than Ingrid’s grimoire. Boots quickened across the stone floor, growing louder as they approached. Ingrid waltzed into the study area. Her bob swishing back, she stopped abruptly as she spotted them.

“Belle, what are you doing here?” Her lip lifted in disgust. “And you!”

The sisters stared at one another as the youngest’s chest heaved up and down, her mouth open in a surprised O. Evelyn tamped her magic down, hoping Ingrid didn’t sense it was no longer blocked. She still wore the bloodstone, and from the way it looked to others, her magic was still snuffed. She didn’t want to use it, not yet. She didn’t want to cause any sort of commotion and risk her escape.

“Are both of you going to just stand there? How are you even out of the dungeons?”

She stepped closer to them, fingers flexing at her sides. Evelyn’s flame itched to ignite, ready to defend, ready to fight—

Tala stepped out from between two bookshelves, her uniform pristinely pressed, an axe hanging at her right side.

“Because I was instructed by Riven to escort her to the fights tonight. Belle and I ran into one another earlier, and when she learned Evelyn would be at the fights, she asked for us to meet her here. Isn’t that right?”

Belle swallowed, blinking a few times before she stammered, “Tala’s right. I figured Evelyn had been lonely in the dungeons, and so I wanted to keep her good company at the fights.”

Ingrid’s brows pinched together, and her gaze narrowed. “Absolutely not. I told you to stay away from her. ”

Evelyn side-eyed her vampyr guard. Why was Tala intervening? Attending the fights did not help her or Belle escape, and it would put her directly in Riven’s path. Unless, escorting her to the fights had actually been his request, and Tala had found her cell empty. If that was the case, why wasn’t she saying anything of the sort to Ingrid?

Was she helping them?

Ingrid approached the table, and Evelyn didn’t miss Tala’s hand reach for her axe. Fucking flames , Evelyn grasped her magic, her power fiery hot, like her resolve to get out of here.

She had to.

Ingrid grabbed her sister’s wrist, dragging her close. “How many times have I told you to stay in your room at night?”

“I know!” Belle hissed, anger blooming on her cheeks for once instead of embarrassment. “Everyone else in this castle is so mean and drab. She’s my only friend. I hate it here, and all you ever do is spend time with Visha. It’s like I don’t even exist anymore, so please let me have one night of fun.”

Evelyn gritted her teeth, trying not to smile at the witch’s performance. Belle was not the demure witch Ingrid believed her sister to be—or who Evelyn had believed her to be—no, there was fight in her, and Evelyn’s magic danced at the small victory as Ingrid’s stern face softened.

Ingrid swiveled to Tala, black cloak swishing in the air, then turned to Evelyn. “We should walk together then, shall we?”

Tala’s golden eyes met Evelyn’s, and she couldn’t detect the emotion swimming in them, but they widened a fraction, as if egging Evelyn to agree. She hid her rippling confusion, clearing her throat.

“Of course,” she said. “Let’s all go to the fights together.”

Belle winced, but Evelyn averted her stare down, hoping Belle didn’t push. Ingrid’s bloodred lips tilted in a sly smirk, and she whirled and headed towards the exit .

“Go,” Evelyn mouthed to Belle, and she followed close to her sister, hands clasped ahead of her.

Tala and Evelyn fell in step together and once Ingrid reached a respectable distance, Evelyn breathed her next words so only the vampyr could hear. “What are you playing at?”

Tala spun in front of her. “Listen, I like you, I swear, but you’re an absolute pain in my fucking ass, witch.”

Evelyn stepped back, blinking a few times as she recovered from Tala’s insult. Her tone suggested an endearment, a friendly vexation. Evelyn tried to remember all the times she’d been around Tala these last few weeks. The kindnesses, the small things. They flooded through Evelyn, leaving her off kilter. Because Tala was a vampyr close to Riven. She had to have heard her wrong.

Tala inhaled, shoulders rising and falling. “If you want tonight to go as planned”—she emphasized the last word—“stay close to me. When we enter the rings, stay to my left, and make sure Riven doesn’t see you.”

“Wait, what plan? Who’s plan?” The possibility Tala was helping had her tripping over her own feet. Why would the vampyr help her? How would she?

“Are you two joining us?” Ingrid called across the library. Under the arch, she stared intently at Evelyn, the malice and darkness wafting from her magic rearing Evelyn’s flame so close to the surface, her skin prickled with a powerful warmth.

Tala cursed underneath her breath, and Evelyn gasped. The vampyr’s golden gaze connected with hers, and she shook her head once. A clear message— Don’t say a bloody word .

Evelyn didn’t need to be warned to remain quiet, though. The one little hissed cursed had shocked her entirely into silence.

Because she was fairly certain Tala had hissed “Moons.”