Chapter 39 Bound Heart
It was a thick, viscous fluid, black as the oil that had swallowed my home. It was the same sludge I had seen in my nightmares, the same rot that was choking the coral reefs. It moved on the white fabric, almost looking alive, smelling of stagnant salt and ancient decay.
I recoiled, my hand flying to my mouth.
“Black blood,” I whispered.
Klaus stared at the stain. His expression wasn't one of fear; it was one of weary resignation. He folded the handkerchief with shaking fingers, hiding the evidence of his decay, and shoved it back into his pocket.
“It is the ocean’s grief,” he said, his voice a ghost of itself. “I am the Anchor, Nerissa. Where else would the poison go?”
“You're dying,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “You’re actually dying, and you’re standing here talking about briefings and summits.”
He finally looked at me. The sapphire in his eyes was almost gone, drowned in a sea of grey.
“We are all dying,” he said. “I’ve just been doing it longer than most. The summit is non-negotiable. The Lycan clans are sensing weakness. If they think the Admiral is failing, they will tear the borders apart.”
He tried to straighten his back, but he winced, his hand returning to his chest.
“You need a doctor,” I said. “A healer. Someone from my people—”
“Your people are gone!” he snapped, the sudden flash of anger making him cough again, though he forced it down. “And the vampires have no cure for the rot of the world. They only know how to feed on it.”
He grabbed my chin, his fingers freezing cold, forcing me to look at him.
“Listen to me, Nerissa. Today, you go into that room. You sit next to me. You look at the Ambassadors with that cold, siren stare. You make them feel the weight of the water. If they see you as a queen, they will fear the empire. And if they fear the empire, I might have enough time to find a way to stop this.”
“Stop what?” I asked. “The Blight? Or the war?”
“Both,” he whispered.
He let go of my chin and turned toward the door. He walked with a stiff, artificial gait, every step a calculated effort. I watched the back of his neck, where the black veins were branching out like a dead tree.
He was my keeper. He was the man who had stolen me from my home. He was the one who had watched my people turn to bone.
And yet, as I watched him wipe a smear of black oil from the corner of his mouth, I felt a devastating, traitorous surge of grief.
“Klaus,” I called out.
He stopped at the door, but he didn't turn around.
“Is there a library?” I asked.
He paused. “What?”
“The archives. The old records. If the vampires have been studying us for centuries, they must have books. Maps. Records of the First Era.”
He was quiet for a long time. The only sound was the wind whistling through the high arrow loops of the tower.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a terrible strategist if you think I’m just going to sit there and watch you turn into a puddle of ink,” I said, my voice hardening. “If the bond works both ways, then I can find a way to pull the poison back. Or I can find a way to break the Anchor.”
Klaus finally turned his head. A shadow of a smile—something dark and tragic—touched his lips.
“The library is in the North Wing,” he said. “Level six. It is forbidden to everyone but the High Council.”
“I’m an Arch-Duchess,” I reminded him. “The Emperor said my voice is the law.”
“So it is.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy brass key, tossing it to me. I caught it; it felt like a chunk of ice in my palm.
“If you go there,” he warned, “do not look for fairy tales. Look for the truth. But remember, Nerissa—the truth in this city usually comes with a body count.”
He walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
I stood in the center of the room, clutching the key to the archives.
I looked at the tea Sulla had brought. It was stone cold now, a thin film of oil floating on the surface. I realized then that the rot wasn't just in the ocean. It was in the air. It was in the tea. It was in the man I was starting to care for.
I walked to the sideboard and picked up the Midnight Conch shell Klaus had brought me from the depths. I pressed it to my ear.
The heartbeat of the ocean was still there, but it sounded different today. It sounded labored. Straining. Like a heart trying to beat through a chest full of mud.
I set the shell down.
I didn't have time for briefings. I didn't care about Lycan ambassadors or imperial ranks.
I had to find out what a “Bound Heart” was. And I had to find out why the man who owned mine was coughing up the death of my world.
I walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a heavy cloak. I pulled the hood over my midnight-blue hair, hiding the sapphire witch from the world.