When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 238

Protect me?  I think ponderously to myself.  How on earth would Soren be able to do that half way across of Faey? It would take him days to reach the faery palace if I were in trouble. Unless of course he shadow shifted, but that would also ruin our plans.

“Don’t worry, he assures gently, obviously having read my mind. “I do not plan to do anything drastic to scupper your plans. But I can give you a few wards which might help you in case Azrael decides he wants to do anything despicable,” he explains, drawing us further back behind the curtain and out of any of the prying eyes of the crowd.

In the semi darkness of the room, he turns to me. Gingerly, he pulls aside the hem of my dress, revealing the tattooed markings across my skin that have made themselves barely visible in his presence.

“Here,” he murmurs, tracing a flow of patterns over my skin. “These markings hold a form of protection over you. Since you are not fully turned, the protection it grants is much stronger. Initially one of the main uses of this symbol was to mark ‘territory’, but in more recent years it has been used to ward people instead. In other words, I am giving you my protection.”

“How does it work?” I inquire curiously, glancing down to the array patterns that slide their way over my chest in a trails of thorns and roses. Then, after a few seconds, they merge back against my skin, melting into my creamy flesh.

“It harnesses the blood and my power that I used to turn you. If I am correct, it will make you practically untouchable for a given time. Hopefully enough to ward Azrael away from you for a bit. Your skin becomes… like a fire to touch.”

“Sounds painful,” I laugh, giddy from the residual nerves. Another tugging sensation wrenches at my gut, making my head spin with nausea.

“Shit, Soren, I think I am going. Remember what I said, don’t come to find me- find the soul. Whatever happens to me, happens. And if I have to kiss Azrael to save the world then…” I trail off, lacking the enthusiasm to finish that sentence.

“You have… my permission. But I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I know. And hopefully I will never have to. Just please trust me on this. I need to find the other soul.”

Reluctantly, Soren concedes to my wishes, but I can tell there is much more he wishes to say about the matter. But the one thing I do find surprising is that he doesn’t question me about what I know of the ‘other soul’. Perhaps he has already figured it out, after all, Soren was always rather sharp with his analysis. Of course, it is likely he already knew that Azrael was looking for the other soul there, and realised that Azrael had brought me with him to search for it. But either way, he seems to have no entail to spare on how to find them.

But before any of these words can be voiced, one more tug laces my heart in its binding grip, shattering my form as it propels me backwards, my illusion splitting into thousands of splintering fragments.

“Soren!” I try to cry, but I have no voice any more. With the last of my energy, I reach out towards him. But by the time this action has registered in my dilapidated nervous system, my mind and body is already being whisked away, back through the darkness and straight to the body that is awaiting me in the bathhouses…

A sturdy voice and a violent shaking awakens me from my slumber.

“Serena? Serena! Oh god please wake up, come on!”

A splash of water hits me full in the face, warm but enough of a shock to snap my eyes wide open.

“Woah, woah!” I call out, blinking back the blackness and panicking as I grip onto the nearest thing besides me- Reshma’s arm. With a relieved sigh, she lets go of me, her shoulders falling as she takes a step back, wiping her brow.

“Holy shit, I thought you had died,” she whispers, a nervous laugh teetering on the edge of her voice. For a moment, she wobbles there, and then deciding herself to unsteady to stand, comes to kneel beside me by the bath. Rubbing my head whilst trying to shake the blurriness from my eyes, I give her a sideways glance, begging her silently for answers. It is then I notice how drenched the bottom of her clothes are, as though she had to wade right in here and get me. Then a horribly guilty feeling pricks at my insides.

“I heard a splash,” she says at last, realising I am waiting on her for answers. “A really big splash, not just general bath noises. Then I rush over here, only to find you are unconscious and have fallen straight into the water,” she laughs a little, as if even she can’t fully believe what she is saying. Frowning, I rake my hands over my newly wetted hair, the taste of soapy bath water leaving a bitter residue on my tongue.

I suppose that would explain a few things.

“How long..?”

“About half an hour. It was kind of crazy,” she admits reluctantly, grazing her hand over the back of her head with a sheepish grin. But the initial shock seems to have passed her, leaving her only with the running thrill of panicked adrenaline washing though her bones.

“You were talking to yourself, started saying the strangest things about vampires and angels…” she stops short. Perhaps in that moment, she realises exactly what had been going on in my dream-like state.

“Oh, right!” I mutter, slamming my hand against my forehead. Peering down, I gaze over the patterns that coil themselves over my skin, prodding them lightly. A faint glow rises up from them, before they settle back down. I breath a sigh of relief.

Good, at least that worked.

There is no telling what she heard or didn’t hear, what murmurs had trembled from my lips while my soul was washed away in a dream-like state. I wouldn’t even put aside the notion that she has realised exactly who I was addressing, or even who I was talking with, but if she does know any of these things, she does not say.

At last deciding to break the silence between us, Reshma stands, brushing down herself quickly and grimacing over the puddle of water that floods from her wet trousers. Perhaps after this I should dry them for her.

“Right, well,” she says quickly, obviously trying to get her bearings after such a monumental event. “I will be waiting over by the entrance, please try not to faint in the bath again?” she says sternly, but the smile on her face is enough to reassure me that her anger is only half placed at best.

“You’ve got it,” I laugh. “Not dying to see me go headfirst for another swim again?” I joke, to which she rolls her eyes in exasperation.

“Not particularly.”

Without another word, she leaves me alone to bath in the tub, soaking up the hot water against my skin and wondering how on earth I am going to manage things here if my soul is being pulled elsewhere. I suppose it is only natural for my soul to drift to its designated partner, after all, the two of us are bonded. But given the fact that Azrael is around, and I have not yet mastered the art of controlling when my soul may drift, there is no telling how I will fair.

But I suppose that is a problem I will address when I come across it.

By the time I am bathed and dried, my skin scrubbed to a shiny marble clean and my body wafting with the aroma of delicate forest flowers, Reshma is already waiting for me, snacking on a hunk of bread. I don’t bother to reprimand her about the sign in the bath house that says ‘do not eat’- the poor fairy has probably not eaten a straight meal for days. She must be ravenous.

“So,” I say, pushing back my hair that is newly dampened from the bath. I take a moment to ensure that my pendant is still weighed upon my chest- which it fortunately is, and clutch it tightly in my hands for a moment, allowing myself to feel the hum and throb of it against my palm.

“Mm?” is all Reshma says through mouthfuls of bread and cheese, continuing to tear at the food in her hands with a hungry fervour.

“How is it that you aren’t enchanted like the rest of them? Azrael doesn’t seem to have you under mind control,” I ask, being prompt cut short as Reshma raises a finger for a temporary silence as she finishes off the last remaining scraps of her bread. When at last the crumbs have been wiped from existence and any trace of food swiftly obliterated, she turns to face me, hand cupped over her mouth despite her previous statement about the walls being soundproofed.

“When Azrael arrived, I wasn’t in the castle. I was running… errands just outside our kingdom past the enchanted grove. Azrael’s magic did not reach me past there, but when I came back I quickly learnt that the palace had no mind of its own any more.”