Bloodbane that disappoint or betray our Master are often found in a pool of their own blood in the bottom of the shallow Blood Well with no clues as to how they came to be there. Sadal wouldn’t be pleased if Maaz took her own life. He would consider it a stolen life – that he was robbed of punishing her himself. I stare back up at the crocodile head hanging above us. It grins down at me with sharp iron teeth.
“Give me my dagger so I can follow His will,” Maaz snarls.
I toss the dagger between my hands. Maaz has always had a flair for the dramatic, it’s part of what made her such a great ruler for the Bloodbane. Most Bloodbane queens barely survive three hundred years before they’re murdered by another. But not Maaz. She’s far too clever for that. I prefer to keep my head, so I play my part in the background of the tapestry of life. Maaz could never bear to be out of the spotlight. I study the streak of blood on the blade.
“You haven’t a fool’s idea of what his will is, Maaz,” I say coolly. “You haven’t spoken to him for a thousand years, not since he told you his plans for the Fae.”
She stiffens. “I know what Sadal requires of those who fail him.”
“So you plan to give up then?” I quip, tossing her the blade. “Such a shame that his First Bride is too weak to try again.”
Maaz narrows her eyes at me. “Why do you care if I live or die? The rest of our sisters would have plunged the blade into my heart with a smile.”
I chuckle. “Trust me, I thought about it. It makes me sick to see you so weak. You’ve grown spoiled. One thing doesn’t go your way and you’re ready to die. It’s pathetic.”
“Then what would you suggest, Cleo? Since you’re so clever,” Maaz snarls.
“What’s the old adage? A failure is only permanent if you stop trying?” I inspect my nails. “Something like that anyway.”
“Your suggestion is to try again?” Maaz rolls her eyes. “How brilliant.”
I smile to myself. I’ve at least stopped Maaz from sacrificing herself for her failure. It doesn’t matter what comes next as long as she lives on. “We have eternity to carry on with Sadal’s will.”
“We work on the Dark God’s timeline,” Maaz snaps. “There is no time to waste.”
My eyes narrow at her words. The Bloodbane are not a notoriously hurried people. We do what we want, when we want expect at the will of Sadal. As a soulless immortal, I’ve never felt pressed for time. And yet, Maaz is wild-eyed and sincere. She’s hiding something.
“I can’t support you if I don’t know what’s going on,” I whisper.
Maaz purses her lips. “When Sadal wants to reveal his secrets, he will.”
I curl my lip at her. “You and our Dark God can keep your secrets, then.”
Maaz ignores me and moves to the door to call for one of the novices. I lean against one of the pillars as the novice in her bright red cloak shuffles inside. The pillars are engraved with images of our sacrifices in the Holy Rite and our rituals. Rituals of which this young girl will soon be a part. She bows deeply to Maaz and then to me, the picture of obeisance. But I can see her keen eyes glittering beneath her hood. Women and girls don’t join the Bloodbane because they’re meek and humble servants. They join the Bloodbane to satisfy their cravings for power, lust, and death.
“Come, child,” Maaz croons, taking the girl by the hand.
I watch as she leads the young woman into the depths of the Blood Well, directly beneath the symbol of Sadal. Maaz draws the novice’s hood back, revealing her shining black hair. Maaz cups her cheeks. “What a beauty you are,” she murmurs. “Sadal will be pleased.”
The girl shivers as Maaz loosens the tie of her cloak and lets it fall to the ground. Novices wear simple cotton dresses, not thick enough to protect her against the chill in the air. Maaz’s fingers trail down the girl’s arms, and she leans closer to Maaz. With a kind smile, Maaz brushes the novice’s hair away from her face and presses a kiss to her cheek.
I see the silver glint of the dagger in her hands. Maaz slices through the air while the girl is distracted, cutting through the thin dress. It falls on top of the cloak, leaving the woman shivering and naked in the red glow of the Blood Well. My own blood is thrumming, singing as power fills the room. The air vibrates with it. The girl sways, her eyes rolling back into her head. She cries out, a lusty shout, as Maaz drags the blade across her throat.
Blood spills from the gouge in her throat, it pours from her lips. With wide eyes, she drops to her knees. Maaz steps out of the Blood Well and joins me beside the lip. The novice’s eyes are locked on us as her body shudders once. Her life force pours freely into the Well, filling it as Maaz and I hum our throaty song.
I can feel the air change in the Holy Rite. It’s growing warm now; hot even. The light flares brilliantly before growing dim as shadows creep from the edges of the room. I feel a thrill course through my body, I can’t help my desire to serve the Dark God and please him. I try to overcome the urges growing in my body, reminding myself that Sadal is unpleasant enough. I need to keep my wits about me when he’s with us.
Maaz and I collapse to our knees at the same time,
