When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 279

“Alright then, so the wolves take the key. One of them stays with me then,” I affirm with a bitter smile, my stomach rolling with the thought of what is to come. I don’t exactly relish the idea of bedding Azrael and running from him straight after, but I suppose if this is our last hope for escape, then it must be done.

Ingrid nods once.

“Once you have it, all you need to do is fit it into the gateway at the end of the hollow woods. Unfortunately, this is quite the task as the entirety of the wall is enchanted to look like one big mirror coating. However, I happened to know the location of the keyhole, and will be awaiting you there. Fortunately after you find me, it should be all smooth sailing. It is magically enchanted, so the key should slot right in. We will be waiting for you there, just make sure to hurry.”

“Don’t worry, I have no plans on sticking around this god forsaken place,” I manage to voice with a nervous laugh, scratching the back of my head in an attempt to make light out of the situation. It would be wrong of me to voice my anxieties so early on in the process, to lament over our chances of failing when we haven’t even started. But apparently I don’t need to, because the next moment Reshma mutters angrily:

“You won’t have a choice if that beast catches you. Then we will all be dead.”

I don’t try to make any jokes on the matter after that. In fact it seems impossible to given the dread that rolls around in my insides, sweeping up my emotions into a tumultuous mess. There is every chance that Azrael- a soul and a pure bred vampire no less, could catch me and drag me straight back to where we started. This of course, would likely come with the cost of our souls, or our lives.

Taking a prolonged sip of tea, I stare at the watery dregs at the bottom of my cup. Just about everything could go wrong on this mission, and not one part of the plan is fool proof. Our only hope relies on blind luck and strategy, but once that has run out, it is entirely up to fate.

Setting down my cup, I wipe my mouth with the back of my sleeve, and grace and formalities I once had all but gone here.

“I should get going. Keeping Azrael waiting would be a bad idea. Just,” I pause, staring out onto the sea of hollow and broken trees that lay in wait for us not a few metres out of the pristine palace gardens. Deep within them, strange shadows lurk through the darkness, and haunting cries ring out through the gaps that death has left behind. It is rumoured that Azrael has placed some creatures (of his own sadistic making, no doubt), to guard these woods. Ingrid tells me she never saw any herself, but that her spirits report of drifting shadows and red dots that spark the eternal gloom. These apparitions appear to roam aimlessly, but never approach the palace, as though warded off by something.

Or someone.

Taking my last sip of tea, I set down my cup. Maybe soon I will be running through those trees for my life.

“Take care of yourselves. And get out of here quickly. It would be unwise to linger at such a monumental point in our plan.”

“Spoken like a true strategist,” Ingrid toasts with her now cold tea, her white eyes gleaming a light lilac under the faint glow that resonates from the intoxicating flowers that pulsate around us. Then she too puts down her cup.

“I shall see you all on the other side,” she affirms. But the other side of what, she does not specify, leaving an unnerving grumbling in the pit of my stomach.

“Warn the wolves that I should make it to the room in five minutes. Soren must hear of our plan as soon as he can, too. We shall have to make arrangements. And Reshma,” I add, turning to the dark skinned fairy who merely stares out into the trees with a brooding expression that has not changed for the past half an hour. Upon hearing her name, she jolts slightly.

“Mm?”

Rolling my eyes to relieve some of the tension, I pull her in for a hug.

“We will get out of here, don’t worry.”

But my enthusiasm is only met by silence. Swirling her cup, a visible shiver runs down her body.

Poor girl,  I think miserably to myself as I give her arm a light rub, attempting a smile that elects no response. She is just as scared as I am.

Only that I know in my heart of hearts that if this plan were to fail, her life would be ended the minute that Azrael finds her. She will die first, there is no dispute. And it is clear that she realises this, too.

“Right.”

But before I can linger any more on the strange nature of her manners, Ingrid’s sharp voice jolts me to attention.

“Serena,” she hisses, her bony fingers circling my wrist as she pulls her mouth close to mine. Shaken once again by that chilling cold, I feel my insides jump in alarm, my eyes darting around for the things she seems to see. But under the veil of the stars, there is simply an open emptiness, nothing more.

But Ingrid’s white eyes are unfocused, far off, seeing something that neither Reshma and I can comprehend between us.

A few of the lingering spirits that had made themselves at home dart at her words, shooting off into the night where the darkness proceeds to swallow them like a creature shoving food straight into its maw. Without their low murmurs and soft chitterings of death, all at once our surroundings become awfully quiet.

“The time, Serena. You must leave.” Letting go of my wrist, she edges backwards towards the end of the terrace that we sit on, her eyes scanning the darkness around us, looking for something that we can not see. A display of distaste runs through her face as her vision settles on something in the gloom, fingers clenching by her side until her knuckles turn white from tension.

“He waits for you.”

At these words, a cold chill sweeps over my body. Shouldering my sachet, I pull at the hem of my clothes, straightening them out as though that somehow might prepare me for what comes next. Gulping down my fear, I steel myself mentally.

“Heavens be with you,” I tell them both, a silent prayer going through my head as I do so, gripping my sachet between my fingers tighter still. Even after all this talk, all this thinking, I am still utterly unprepared.

“May life favour you, and death not surpass you,” Ingrid replies, slinking back into the darkness of the night, a cold chill stirring up the air. Reshma, however, only nods, but seems equally as eager to be gone.

Deciding not to stall any longer, I force my stiff feet to move from beneath me. I know what I have to do. Time to find out if I have the strength to do it.

Silently, I pray that wherever Soren is now, he will forgive me for the sin I am about to commit.

But to be honest, I am not even sure if I can forgive myself.

***

“Come in, my lovely little pet,” coo’s Azrael as I land outside his door, partially out of breath and full of worries that send my head spinning with anxiety. It would seem that Azrael had heard me coming, for I barely even managed to get to the door before he invited me in.

I suppose he was most eager for this moment to arrive.

Creeping slowly inside, I slide my hands over myself to cover up my body, but the satin cloth I have clothed myself in leaves little to the imagination regardless. It was a gift from Azrael, a show of his good will, if you might, but mostly just an opportunity to see me practically naked once more. The satin is so thin that it is practically see through, and so skin tight that every curve on my body is as evident as if I were simply naked.

Part of me wonders whether I should have just turned up naked to begin with. It would be far more dignified than wearing this ghastly thing.

“How did your talk with the soul go? Does she wish to have a formal meeting with me, yet?” Azrael asks inquisitively, fishing for idle banter, though I know that is certainly not what he is here for. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the set of draws in question- ordinary looking for the most part, save for the strange looking plant that is set on top. That is where the key is.. God knows how I am going to get it.