Sadal will only grow stronger as chaos grows in Alnembra – he feeds on it. And as he grows stronger, so, too, will the Bloodbane. And that would be the end of Alnembra. The end of Canes. The end of all Fae kingdoms on the continent. I stare out the window as Thal takes a seat at my bedside. Darkness has fallen, stares wink in and out of sight as clouds float past. The healers slip a pair of loose-fitting pants over me while their magic still blocks the pain.
“I need to see the witch,” I say softly, thinking of Verity in her Bloodbane cloak.
“What?” Thal’s brows furrow. “She’ll never talk to you.”
I wait until the healers have closed the door behind them to speak. “Our war is hopeless unless we find a way to cripple Sadal, maybe even kill him.”
“You’re talking about killing one of the old gods,” Thal says seriously. “A god, Altair.”
“You know the legends,” I whisper. “They weren’t always gods.”
Thal shakes his head. “Those are legends, just legends.”
“Nevertheless.” I eye him. “I need to speak to the witch.”
I don’t tell him what happened to Verity, that she’s become one of the Bloodbane. If there’s a way to undo it, the witch would know. And if anyone knows Sadal’s dark history, it would be the Bloodbane.
Thal sighs, surrendering to my stubborn nature. He rolls a chair with wooden wheels to my bedside and helps me into a sitting position. I grit my teeth as I scoot closer to the edge of the mattress. Thal scoops me into his arms and settles me into the chair. I eye my legs, splayed and at an odd angle as they still rest on the mattress.
Pain shoots through my legs and all the way up my spine as Thal carefully arranges the plasters onto the chair. I hiss, clenching my eyes closed as I ride the pain until it fades to a dull throb. Thal grimaces sympathetically before moving behind me to roll the chair out of the room.
Carefully, we manage to make our way down the stairs and into the dungeons with the chair. Grunting, Thal settles the chair onto the damp stone floor of the dungeon. He shoots me a glare. “Damn, heavy fool,” he growls.
I grin. “Imagine getting back up.”
He rolls his eyes and shoves me forward. We pass Navi’s cell but I don’t bother glancing towards her. I hear her rustle in the darkness, I even hear her fingers rustle against the iron bars of her cell. She gasps when she catches sight of me, but we’re out of view in seconds. I stare intently at the Bloodbane’s cell in the back of the dungeon. She’s silent, making no sound as we approach.
Thal sets the torch in the sconce, illuminating the area. The witch is sitting with her knees to her chest in the corner of the cell. Her robes are ragged and dirty. Her hair is matted, and there are dark circles under her eyes. I eye her, cocking my head to the side. Her pale blue eyes are sharp, studying me intently.
“Her eyes,” Thal murmurs.
Verity’s eyes, he means. “I know,” I say stiffly, a silent warning.
The Bloodbane smirks. “I see you took part in the glorious battle, on the losing side, I presume.”
I wave a hand to my wounds. “Courtesy of Sadal Melik, your groom.”
She curls her lip. “What brings you down? If I had known the King of Alnembra was going to grace me with his presence, I would have cleaned up a little.”
“No need,” I say, narrowing my eyes at her sarcasm. “We need to talk about Sadal.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she snarls.
“Oh, but there is.” I lace my fingers together. “While you’re in here, enjoying my hospitality. Thousands of your sisters died fighting the Fae today. We destroyed their forces before they could so much as make a dent in my army.”
She glowers at me. “You came down here to gloat?”
“No. I came down here to talk about Sadal. You might care to know that he didn’t intervene until almost all of the Bloodbane had fallen, and most of the demons as well,” I say bluntly.
I watch as her eyes grow cold with icy rage. Her shoulders stiffen. There’s a rustling noise as she rises to her feet and stalks towards the bars. She scowls at me. “How many?”
“How many what?” I ask, cocking a brow.
She presses her dangerously beautiful face against the bars. “How many Bloodbane?” She hisses.
“At least five thousand,” I whisper.
“Five thousand,” she echoes. She falls back from the bars and closes her eyes. “Cleo. My name is Cleo.”
“Cleo,” I murmur. “How do we defeat Sadal?”
She laughs mirthlessly. “You want to fight the dark god?”
“It’s the only way to prevent carnage on both sides,” I say forcefully.
“You could always surrender,” she says, smirking.
“We both know Sadal won’t be stopped by a white flag,” I argue. “Are you always this obstinate? Or are you simply loyal to the dark god?”
Cleo narrows her eyes. “Don’t insult me.”
“Which part was insulting?” I cock a brow.
“I hate him,” she hisses. “I’ve hated him since before you were born, Altair.”
I look at her curiously. “Why?”
“You want to know about defeating him?” She says, ignoring my question. “Then you need to meet the first Bloodbanes.”
Thal scoffs. “The first Bloodbanes? Aren’t they the crones and hags that wither away in your keep?”
She glares at him. “You are?”
“Thal,” he says, giving her a little smirk.
Cleo turns back to me, ignoring him. “He hasn’t said much but I can tell that’s not because he was listening ever-so-intently.”
I snort as Thal’s eyes flash angrily. To his credit, Thal doesn’t draw his dagger or stalk towards her. He simply rolls his eyes at her. I glance between the two of them, animosity thick in the air. “Tell me about the first Bloodbane.”
“The first women to succumb to Sadal’s charms were much cleverer than the women that followed,” Cleo says, leaning against the bars. “They wanted the power,
