Page 63 of The Crimson Princess
“The sorceress is written about as the great disruptor who believes she rules us all. There are hints that your father’s book might have been created by her.”
“No. No, I don’t believe that. The book has protected us.”
“Does it? Your young are commanded to fight in the Challenge without a choice.”
“And your military has a choice?”
“Yes. They’re all enlisted at their own free will. They fight for their world. They fight for our freedom, for any who would wish to take it from us. And when you live as long as we do, freedom matters.”
“You can’t tell me you have no corruption.”
“Of course we do. There are those who take blood from those who do not offer it, but I can assure you they meet a swift ending. That’s not who we want to be as a race. Read our book, Satima. Unlike your father, I don’t hide the contents from you.”
“He doesn’t hide the contents of the Book of Life. He’s the only one who can read it.”
“Are you sure about that?”
No, I think. I’m not sure of anything anymore and it’s freaking me out. I sink down into a chair in front of the table and the books, and I drag the one filled with translations forward. Toren sits down next to me, and another much smaller book appears. “This one is the translations as they relate to Macklemore. I think you need to start there.”
I nod, my throat too dry to speak. He strokes a hand down my hair. “How about a coffee? I took a liking to it in the human realm and brought it here.”
“I love it, too. I lived on it when I was hunting in San Francisco. I’d kill for a white mocha with whip right now.”
A cup appears in front of me. “From my favorite coffee shop here in the city. I hope you like it.”
“Thank you, Toren. You know I might not read any of this the way you do, right? Two worlds. Two different lenses.”
“You’ve never been given a chance to see things through any lens but your father’s. Perhaps a new perspective will do us all good. I’ll leave you alone here, or if you want you can take the books to the living room and sit at the window?”
“I’m good here.”
“Okay. If you change your mind, I removed the protections of the vault. You can blink out of here. The kitchen is right next to the living room. I’ll be in one of those two places.” He blinks out of the room and my lashes lower on an exhaled breath. I’m not going to like what I read in the Codex, but I can’t take the not knowing.
I blink after Toren and appear in the living room. He’s at the window, his back to me, and I blink to his side. He pulls me in front of him, his hand resting on my hip, and I lean against the glass, no fear in me that it will break. It’s his magic that protects me and I do not fear Toren. “Tell me what you want me to know.”
“I don’t want to shadow your opinions.”
“Just tell me, Toren.Tell me.”
“If I do, this is my interpretation of the text and my observations after living a very long life.”
“I get that. I’ll read and confirm on my own, but just—I need to know.”
“I’ve already told you a portion of this. The sorceress, Crya is her name, the only living druid sorceress at the time of the war is said to be the ultimate inventor and creator of war and chaos, hungry for power, but never satisfied with peace. She hides herself from our view, using objects to influence leaders to follow her.”
“Like the Book of Life.”
“Yes.”
“Who is she and what is her origin?”
“From our text she seems to be the oldest living being.”
My brows dip. “I thought that was Macklemore, thus why he was so powerful?”
“Our Codex says that Macklemore was her creation and meant to serve her as her warrior.”
“And creator of war,” I say, the words acid on my tongue.
