Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I had a bucket of water in my hands, the final tool I needed if I was ever going to attempt my first ritual. Flying down the stone steps and breezing through the damp corridor, I stopped short in front of my chosen ritual room.

The door handle was gone, violently ripped away. I spotted it lying on the ground a few feet away.

What in the world?

I pushed open the door, poking my head inside.

The chamber wasn't empty.

A woman, crying, was curled up in a ball in the room's corner. Standing over her was a man, or something that was at least man-shaped. At my approach, it whirled around, startling me so badly I jumped and scrambled backward.

Man-shaped, indeed.

Whatever it was, it had ashy, gray skin that flaked to the ground as its tattered robes rubbed against its skin. Its clothes looked of fine quality, just torn and ripped. Had this thing once been a Noble?

Its eyes were yellow with black pupils, spittle flying from its mouth as it raised two hands with sharp, black claws at me.

What the fuck ?

The woman whimpered again, her face streaked with tears and smeared cosmetics. Her dress was as dingy as his robe, her hair a tangled mess of dark curls.

A mud girl.

The woman looked at me hopefully, as if I were her savior.

But I was not the hero type.

It lunged, and I panicked. It was her or me, and I chose me!

You can't even close the door, you idiot. You'll both die.

The demon thing was faster than me anyway, so charitable thoughts or not, it didn't matter. Claws caught my ankle and dug into my flesh. I grunted in agony, not having felt pain like that in my entire life. We both hit the stone floor hard, my forehead smacking against the ground and stunning me.

This was it. This was how it ended: dying alone and under mysterious circumstances, with no one to hear my cries for help or hear my last breaths except for a snot-nosed mud girl. Her front-row seat to my final moments wasn't a comforting thought.

I tried to use my arms and crawl away, but its stupid claws were dug into the tendons of my ankle, making every movement excruciating. The demon reared back for the death blow.

I closed my eyes.

The demon made an odd ‘whump' noise, and with a final white-hot tug of agony, released the claw from my leg. Instinctively, I tucked my leg up under me and tried to scramble away—right underneath the legs of the Fireguard who'd just stuck a giant spear through the demon's chest.

I dragged my body across the threshold of the room, trailing blood behind me. Two more Fireguards leaped over my body to join their colleague. Their faces were steady, arms not shaking as they used their spears to dispatch the creature. They weren't shocked at all, but I couldn't unhear the wet, guttural sounds of that thing taking its final death rattles as they killed it.

The girl cried noisily. At least the Fireguards would see to her, and I could see to myself.

Females confounded me.

"You, scribe. Are you all right?" A Fireguard bent down, frowning at the wound on my leg.

"Of course he isn't all right, don't ask stupid questions. Put some pressure on the wound." L strode in confidently, bending down and wrapping a piece of cloth he'd taken from his pocket around my ankle and tying it tightly. "You get into a lot of trouble for a scribe, for how smart they all say you are."

I bristled.

The third Fireguard stepped over us, the sobbing girl in his arms. He disappeared down the corridor, taking her cries with him.

"What were you doing down here?" the second Fireguard grilled me, frowning.

"Just … exploring." I winced as it came out.

They grabbed me by my shoulders and hauled me up, uncaring of my ankle. At least it was bandaged, and no longer freely bleeding.

Wait, I was bleeding freely. This was the perfect time to try the first ritual!

"Uh, can I stay just a little longer? To clean up?" I stuttered, making my eyes wide and big like I'd seen some of the younger boys do to Vession to lessen a punishment. It rarely worked with him, but I rarely asked the Fireguards for anything. We had an agreement that worked to everyone's benefit.

Usually.

The second one looked ready to ream me out, but L shook his head and made a quick motion, indicating the other should go.

"You clean the mess up then," the Fireguard grunted out.

L rolled his eyes. "Fine."

The Fireguard grumbled, but he left.

I knew getting friendly with the Fireguard would eventually work in my favor! For a moment L and I stood alone with the corpse of the demon creature, black blood forming into a sticky pool underneath it.

L sighed. "I will come back this way in an hour to clean up. Be gone by then," L cautioned.

"Of course." I would only need fifteen minutes. "Do you have a knife I could borrow?"

* * *

Rituals needed key ingredients: the design, intent, a knife, and blood. Also, I had my new bucket of water for when the ritual was over to wash with.

I had everything. I was ready.

The dead demon's face had stretched in a macabre grin. It was almost as though it was taunting me.

"It's fine," I remarked to no one.

Who was I trying to convince?

Glancing at the blood already gathering on the floor, I cut off the rag L had tied. I took what had already spilled and painted it in a rough circle on the stone floor the best I could. The outside barrier could be rough, the design only had to be as geometrically perfect as possible on my skin, so the magick flowed organically.

And yet, I hesitated.

A normal human attempting it would simply die.

And in the past, that was what held my hand.

But after the queen's revelations, I felt like I had something to prove, and nothing to lose.

There was magick in me. I knew it.

I think I'd always suspected it deep down, but the queen had all but confirmed it. Why else would she use me as an experiment? Why else would she show an interest? Something magickal was going on in the palace, and I was involved. Whatever was in the king's veins now ran through mine.

Even if I was wrong and was a boring, useless human, I wanted to try this.

I wanted to risk it all.

Using my ankle would do as the starting point. I traced the design in my head, then once lightly on my skin with the blade. I'd practiced it hundreds of times, preparing for this moment.

This ritual was supposed to help my body acclimate to intense heat and protect my skin against burns. It felt logical considering a dragon constantly hovered above all of us.

Taking a deep breath in, I let it out and cut down on the wound with the knife.

White-hot pain assaulted my senses, but I shoved it away to focus on making perfect angles in my skin.

I had every step memorized. First the ankles, then a sun design up the calf. For added protection, I could repeat on my other leg, but it had to be perfect, and the blade couldn't leave the skin once, except to change legs.

The knife itself was important, but I didn't exactly have a large selection at my disposal. The one L let me borrow was simple and sharp, slitting my skin open quickly and efficiently. I didn't stop to think, just do: that was the purpose of memorizing the ritual so thoroughly, so that I wouldn't second guess myself or get cold feet.

Checking the design, I let out a breath and lifted the knife from my skin, sitting back on my haunches.

Breathe.

Nothing exploded, and I wasn't dead. Perfect.

Did I dare do the other leg? It had to be perfectly symmetrical, or I risked catastrophe.

Good thing I had an impeccable eye for detail and an obsessive personality.

My knife kissed the skin of my left leg and repeated the design.

"Are you com—What the hell?"

I flinched and sliced a line down my leg that wasn't part of the design. L stood stock-still one step into the room, lips parted in shock.

Don't stop. Have to finish it.

"Stay there! If you fuck this up we both die!" I yelled at him.

His eyes went wide, trained on the knife in my hands and the blood dripping all over me.

Pain spread through my body as a dull ache, which became worse with each beat of my heart. I had to adjust the ritual on the fly and finish it, or fuck it up and die.

I didn't have a contingency plan, so I simply pulled the knife away and leaned back to stretch out my muscles, careful to keep every limb inside the circle. The designs on my legs flared a gold, then sank down into my skin and vanished. It worked! I wasn't blowing up! But it hurt . Was it supposed to hurt this bad, or was it part of my mistake?

My heart raced.

Or at least, I think it worked. Golden lines were a good sign. My exploding would have been a bad sign. And so far, I was still here. Unfortunately, there was no way to know if it worked unless I tried burning myself, or somehow came face-to-face with the dragon.

Shaking slightly with pain and adrenaline, I took the bucket and dumped the water across my circle, scattering the blood circle and extinguishing the magick.

L skittered backwards to avoid the wave of water and my blood. Not that I blamed him.

"You … I …"

The weight of any lingering magick vanished, and I could breathe. I fell onto my back with my arms and legs splayed, letting the cool stone soothe the itch and burn of the wounds on my legs.

I would need to bathe. Urgently.

"Z! Answer me!" His voice shook as he rattled his spear, hands fumbling at the shaft.

I tried to stand, but my left leg buckled under me and I fell hard, my muscles too weak to catch myself. L ran forward before I kissed hard stones catching my arm and pulling me back and setting me down on my back. He wiped his hands on his tunic, cleaning my blood off him.

I tried to stand again.

"Ah! Fuck!"

My leg burned like it was on fire. L moved forward again but frowned, seeing nothing more wrong with me.

"Can you wipe the blood off, or …"

I took his offered arm and scowled, leaning against him.

"I am not injured. The ritual didn't go as planned because someone surprised me."

The accidental cut on my leg was bleeding black blood sluggishly. That was worrisome. Very worrisome.

"That's the same color of blood the monster–"

"I know, Z," I snarled back at him.

The other marks glowed a dull gold. Shrugging on the clean robe, I gathered my tools and cleaned them off, using the small bit of water left in the bucket. I wrapped the knives in a piece of cloth, hiding them away in the room. Everything else went in the empty bucket to take back to my room. I'd have to refill it to bring more water down for the next ritual, anyway.

And there would be so many more rituals.