The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(103)

But there was one sure way to kill it. One sure way to make certain the poison it drank bonded permanently with its own blood, organs, and tissue.

She’d put the poison in her own blood. Bond it to herself so that she became the weapon. And then she’d feed herself to the wraith. When it drank her poisoned blood, her magic would do the rest.

The wraith would be dead. The kingdom and those she loved would be safe.

The fact that she would also be dead sent a sharp ache through her. She let it hurt her, just for an instant. Let herself look down the years she’d no longer have and see all the possibilities. Love, family, memories made in the everyday, ordinary moments that threaded together to create the life she’d always wanted. Simple joys and endless experiments. Magic and moonlight and sleeping in late with Pepperell’s heavy weight on her chest.

And then she put them away, sealed them shut in a corner of her mind, and turned to face Grand-mère, who stood close now, her eyes worried.

“What is it?” she asked her granddaughter, the heaviness of dread already wrapped around her words.

“Dinah got the spell and let the wraith out. She’s going to kill the royal family and whoever else she wants to kill at the ball tonight, and then I think she plans to come for me and keep me a prisoner.”

Grand-mère drew her wand. “Not on my watch, she won’t.”

Blue closed the distance between them and enfolded her grandmother in a tight hug. “I love you, Grand-mère.”

The older woman’s arms wrapped around Blue. “I love you too. Now stop looking like I’m going to let that snake in the grass and her pet wraith take my granddaughter. I might not have the kind of magic that can do more than some simple transfigurations and object movement, but that’s enough for me to send a knife into that Chauveau woman’s heart.”

Blue pulled back and smiled though she wanted to cry. “I hope you get your chance. Now, I need your help. I’m going to the ball and—”

“We’re going to the ball,” Grand-mère stated firmly. “I know you want to protect the royal family, but someone has to be watching out for you.”

“I’ll be fine.” Blue found the words easy to say. A strange sort of calm descended, blanketing the sharp ache in her heart and draining her fear away.

She could see the path before her, every step illuminated as if she held a lantern in her hand.

She’d bond the poison to the blood that ran through her veins. Get dressed for the ball. Send Lucian and Grand-mère through the city to get as many street kids to safety as possible. Dance with Kellan. Let herself feel how much she loved him. Let him see it on her face. It wouldn’t matter once she was gone, and it was one last memory she could hold close as she waited for Dinah and the wraith to make an appearance. As she threw herself at the monster and let it feast.

“You’ll be fine because I’ll be there to watch over you.” Grand-mère’s voice was sharp.

Blue smiled gently and held up the jar of poison. “I’ll be fine because I used my blood to make a weapon capable of taking down the wraith.”

There was no need to tell Grand-mère exactly how the weapon worked.

Before Grand-mère could argue further, Blue cast a quick glance at the sky. A crescent moon lit the night, and the stars swept the velvety surface like bits of white sapphire. Soon, the ball would begin. Blue didn’t have much time.

“I need your help,” she said. “Please trust that I know what I’m doing. I know what I’m capable of. There are people far more vulnerable than me who need your protection tonight.”

Grand-mère studied her for a long moment, and then she pulled her once more into her arms, hugging her fiercely. When she let go, she said, “What do you need?”

“A ball gown, a carriage, and Mama’s dancing slippers,” Blue said.

Grand-mère’s brows rose. “Is that all?”

Blue smiled. “A little transfiguration fun. You haven’t done that for a while.” Her smile slipped. “Unless you think giving me a grand ball gown, a carriage, a groomsman, and a pair of horses is too much for you.”

Grand-mère scowled. “Don’t be impertinent. Like you, I know exactly what I’m capable of.”

“Then let’s get started. I need to alter Mama’s shoes a little. Will you bring them to me in the kitchen?”

While Grand-mère barked a list of things for Lucian to collect—a fat pumpkin she grew in the garden that bloomed year-round for her, regardless of when things were in season elsewhere, some mice from the attic, branches from a rynoir tree, and a bouquet of brilliant yellow roses—Blue hurried to the kitchen. She had to work fast before Grand-mère saw what she was doing and asked too many questions.

A quick slash of one of Grand-mère’s cooking knives opened the cut on Blue’s hand again. She uncorked the jar of poison, held it over her wound, and hesitated.

What if it didn’t bond with her blood? What if her blood only worked if she was using it to bring together two different substances? There was no time to experiment. No time for caution and triple-checking. For alternate hypotheses and measured steps.

The kingdom needed a girl full of poison and reckless courage.

Holding her breath, Blue carefully poured the poison into her wound.