“Yes.”
“Then you know where it is.”
“They took me in a hood. But yes. I know where it is.”
He felt his eyes narrow slightly. “How is that possible unless your departure was actually an escape? After I expressly told you not to arouse suspicion. Look at me.”
She raised her gaze to his. “No. I didn’t escape. They led me out hooded again. And they kept Janus for surety.”
“If they led you back out in a hood then you don’t know where the camp is.”
“My Lord, I could hear the river. The sun was out and warm from the east. I have an impeccable sense of direction.” She offered a slight smile, as though uncertain if she were permitted to do so. “I could find your fortress now, if you asked me. And I was escorted here in a hood as well.”
Was it possible? He studied her, the way she lowered her gaze again.
“I’ve spoken with Corban and reviewed the maps with him. I hoped you’d be pleased.”
Something niggled. And yet she was the picture of conciliatory submission.
“If you have done anything to arouse suspicion, you will tell me now. If they suspect any foul play, they’ll vacate the valley before we can bring our forces to bear.”
“No. They won’t. They’re a very cautious people, but they won’t.”
“No? Why?”
“Because they believe I’ve thrown my loyalty in the boy’s favor.”
He studied her, searching for any sign of deception.
“I see. And yet you point out their cautiousness.”
“Only because they must not be underestimated.”
“But they suspect no attack?”
“No.”
He nodded. “Good. Did you learn of their forces? How many, how strong, what skills they possess?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“And?”
“They are only seven hundred strong. The rest are too old or young to fight. Regardless of their skill, which is considerable, they would stand little chance against your army.”
He had already concluded as much. His children might not have the wily skills of a Nomad or the uncanny abilities of the Mortals-he had heard the accounts-but they were unmatched in strength and speed.
“They say they have strange perception. Tell me… what source do you suppose it come from?”
“From Jonathan’s blood-that which they consider true life.”
“They will soon see just how true their life is,” he said. “Their Maker will be dead by this hour tomorrow.”
She seemed to choose her next words carefully. “That might be a problem, my Lord. They watch the boy constantly and keep him in seclusion for safety.”
Saric picked up his goblet. “You tell me this only now?”
“The boy trusts me. He’s asked me to come to him. I alone can give him to you.”
Her tone smacked of manipulation. Curious…
“I have a request,” she said.
“Now you are so brave as to make a request?”
Feyn slid back in her chair, crossed her legs and pressed on without reacting to his implicit correction.
“If I am to rule as Sovereign under your authority, I would do so freed from the physical restraints and inconvenience of taking your blood every three days. The others you’ve made are loyal to you, born of your blood. And so am I. But I wish to be untethered.”
She’d found the audacity to ask this? Saric leaned back in his chair and tapped the tips of his fingers together.
“Your time away has filled you with boldness. What do you expect me to make of that?”
“If I am bold it is only because I have your blood, my Lord. You can kill me at any time and rule in my place-I accept that much and as such, I am at your mercy. The life you gave me is yours to take. I only ask that you allow me to live free for as long as you would allow me to remain in your service. Anything else is no true life at all. Anything less is no true obedience.”
This was the Feyn he recalled from their former life. So she hadn’t been stripped of her backbone… He found the revelation satisfying. Perhaps she would bring him more pleasure than he’d anticipated.
“I’m not sure you know what you ask for,” he said.
“Then tell me.”
He cocked his head slightly. “You make demands?”
“Forgive me. Could you tell me what I ask for?”
“That’s better. There’s only one way to be freed from your need of my blood. Even if I were agreeable, you would be inviting more than you bargain for.”
“I would become a full Dark Blood,” she said. “I don’t see how that is any different from what I am now.”
“There is no way to go back. Ever.”
“I’m Dark Blood already and dependent on frequent feedings to remain alive. I feel trapped. Caged. This isn’t the same life you have, brother.”
Not Master or Lord. Brother. He could not suppress the grin that crossed his face. “I see. And you mean to use the boy as leverage to be granted your wish.”
“I only wish to be alive as my own Maker is alive. Fully alive and free to serve you. I mean no disrespect. I merely point out the value I bring you and ask for this one favor in return. Make me free, my Lord. If you find any displeasure with me, then take my life and be Sovereign in my place.”
She might consider conspiring against him now while her own blood still swam in her veins, but as a full Dark Blood all trace of disloyalty to him would die. Did she know as much? Likely not. Either way, she knew that she was his to keep or discard. And she had pointed out the obvious: her need to take his blood would quickly become a nuisance.
“It would require a full blood transfusion.”
“I accept that.”
“You would be mine forever.”
“I am already yours forever.”
He nodded. “You are. Tell me, do you believe it’s true that the boy’s blood is poison to Dark Bloods?”
“Yes.”
“Then you realize your blood could never be altered by Mortal blood.”
“Mortal blood would result in my death.”
“And if I refuse your request?”
“I would know you don’t trust me.”
“You would still give me the boy?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I will go to him alone only to lead him to you, to deal with him as you see fit.”
Yes. She would. As any Dark Blood must and would.
“And you, my Lord? You will march on the Mortal camp?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“First thing tomorrow.”
Saric pushed his chair back, stood, and rounded the table to her side. He offered his hand, which she took with a light touch.
“But for now rise, my love.”
She slid back her chair and rose. With his thumb, he brushed a black speck from the corner of her mouth.
