Meet the Lunaboards

"Don't move." Caspian's hand shot out, gripping my arm so tight it hurt. "Don't say anything. Don't even breathe too loud."

But I couldn't stop staring. Seven bodies. Seven students who'd been alive this morning, and now they were just... gone. Their auras had faded to nothing, leaving only those gray death omens hovering like ghosts over their corpses.

And Elysia stood in the middle of it all, blood dripping from her hands onto the stone courtyard. Her emerald dress was ruined, soaked through with red. But her face—her face was calm. Almost serene.

"What happened here?" Caspian's voice rang out across the courtyard. He'd shifted into prince mode, all authority and cold command. But I could feel his hand trembling slightly where it gripped my arm.

Elysia looked at him. Really looked at him, and something flickered across her perfect face. Grief? Regret? It was there and gone too fast for me to catch.

"They were dying anyway," she said. Her voice was steady. Too steady. "The curse was taking them. I could see it happening—their skin turning gray, their eyes glazing over. They were in pain, Caspian. So much pain."

"So you killed them?" Raven's voice was harsh. He'd moved to stand slightly in front of me, his body tense like he was ready to fight or run at any second.

"I ended their suffering." Elysia's emerald eyes flicked to Raven, then to me. "Isn't that what mercy is? Stopping pain when there's no other option?"

"That's not mercy." A new voice cut through the growing crowd. A man pushed his way to the front—older, maybe in his forties if he was human, with steel-gray hair and a face that looked like it had been carved from granite. He wore black robes with silver trim and a heavy chain of office around his neck. "That's murder, Lady Vane."

"Councilman Silvermist." Elysia dipped her head in acknowledgment, but there was no deference in the gesture. "I acted to prevent further suffering. Surely you, of all people, understand the necessity of difficult choices."

Magnus Silvermist. I remembered that name from Dorian's lecture. The head of the vampire council. The one who'd been directly involved in the original hunter massacre three hundred years ago.

His aura was almost entirely black, threaded through with sickly yellow. Corruption. Lies. Secrets layered on secrets.

"What I understand," Magnus said, his voice like gravel, "is that you've just killed seven students without council approval. That is a capital offense, regardless of your justification."

"Then arrest me." Elysia spread her blood-stained hands wide. "Put me on trial. But while you're wasting time with procedure, more students will die. The curse is accelerating, Councilman. We all know it. We all feel it."

She wasn't wrong. I could see it now with my Truthsight—the black rot spreading faster through the walls around the courtyard, pulsing with each heartbeat. The death omens above the gathered students were growing darker. Bigger.

"How many?" I whispered. The words scraped out of my raw throat before I could stop them.

Everyone turned to look at me.

"How many students have the death omens?" Caspian asked quietly, understanding immediately.

I looked around the courtyard. Counted the gray shadows. My stomach dropped. "Twenty-three. No, twenty-four. And they're all getting worse."

"She's lying," someone in the crowd said. "Trying to cause panic."

"She has Truthsight, you fool." That was Dorian, pushing through the crowd. His gray ponytail was disheveled, his reading glasses sitting crooked on his nose like he'd run here. "If she says twenty-four students are dying, then twenty-four students are dying."

Magnus's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "The Ashford girl. Prince Noctis's... acquisition."

"Her name is Seraphina," Caspian said. His voice had gone cold again, dangerous. "And she's under my protection."

"Your protection doesn't seem to be worth much," Magnus replied. He gestured to the three vampires who'd attacked me—Marcus, Lillian, and Thomas—standing at the edge of the crowd. "Not when your own people are trying to kill her."

Caspian's jaw clenched so tight I heard his teeth grind. "Those three will face justice for their actions."

"Will they?" Magnus smiled, and it was like watching a snake bare its fangs. "Or will you protect them too? After all, they were only trying to solve our curse problem. Quickly and efficiently."

"By murdering an innocent girl?" Raven stepped forward, and I saw his hands curl into fists. "That's your definition of justice?"

"She's hardly innocent." Magnus turned his cold gaze on me. "Her grandmother created this curse. Her bloodline is responsible for every death, every moment of suffering we've endured for three centuries. If her life can end it, then her life is forfeit. That's not murder. That's payment of a debt long overdue."

The crowd murmured in agreement. I felt their eyes on me—some curious, some pitying, most just hungry for a solution no matter the cost.

"The prophecy requires willing sacrifice," Dorian interjected. His voice was firm despite his disheveled appearance. "Not murder. If you kill her against her will, the curse won't break. It will only get worse."

"Then we convince her." Magnus looked at me like I was a problem to be solved, not a person. "Surely she understands the mathematics. One life for thousands. It's a simple equation."

"I'm not an equation." My voice came out stronger than I expected despite my bruised throat. "I'm a person. And I'm not dying for a system built on lies and massacres."

The crowd's murmur turned ugly. Angry.

"You selfish little—" someone started.

"Enough!" Caspian's voice cracked like thunder. Power rolled off him in waves, and I felt it in my bones—the weight of vampire authority, the force of a prince born to rule. "The council will convene tonight to discuss recent events. Until then, everyone returns to their quarters. No exceptions."

"And the bodies?" Magnus asked, gesturing to the seven corpses.

"Will be handled appropriately." Caspian's gold eyes were hard as stone. "With dignity and respect, as they deserve."

Magnus studied Caspian for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well, Your Highness. But this conversation is far from over." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Lady Vane? You're confined to your quarters until the council meeting. Guards will escort you."

Elysia didn't resist as two guards moved forward to flank her. But as they led her away, she looked back at me one more time. Her emerald eyes met mine, and I saw something in them I didn't expect.

Not hatred. Not even cruelty.

Fear.

She was terrified. Of the curse, of losing her brother, of something else I couldn't quite read.

The crowd dispersed slowly, reluctantly, like they were disappointed the show was over. Soon it was just me, Caspian, Raven, and Dorian standing in the courtyard with seven dead bodies.

"This is bad," Raven said quietly. "Really bad. The council's going to push for immediate sacrifice now."

"They can push all they want." Caspian's voice was tight. "I won't allow it."

"You might not have a choice." Dorian cleaned his glasses on his shirt, not looking at any of us. "Magnus has been consolidating power for decades. If he convinces enough council members that immediate action is needed, he can override you. Prince or not."

"Then we find another way." Caspian turned to me. "The journal. What else did your grandmother say about the blood bond?"

I tried to remember through the fog of exhaustion and fear. "Just that there's a loophole. That if I figure it out, I won't have to die. But she said I need to see the truth first. All of it."

"The truth about what?" Raven asked.

"I don't know." My legs were shaking again. I was so tired. So bone-deep tired that standing felt like climbing a mountain. "The curse? The founding? What really happened three hundred years ago?"

"All of it," Dorian said softly. He was staring at the seven bodies, his faded blue eyes sad. "She means all of it. The complete, unvarnished truth that no one wants to acknowledge."

"Can you show her?" Caspian asked. "You were there. You helped create the curse. You know everything."

"I know my part," Dorian corrected. "But there are things even I don't know. Things Elara kept hidden, even from me." He finally looked up, meeting my eyes. "Your grandmother was brilliant, Seraphina. Brilliant and ruthless and so far ahead of everyone else that we're still catching up three centuries later. If she left you a way out, it won't be obvious. It won't be easy. And it will require you to face truths that will break you."

"I'm already broken," I said. My voice cracked on the last word, and I hated it. Hated showing weakness. "What's a little more damage?"

Dorian smiled sadly. "Spoken like a true Ashford." He pulled out my grandmother's journal from his coat pocket—when had he grabbed it?—and handed it to me. "Read it tonight. All of it. And tomorrow, if you're ready, I'll show you what really happened. The memories I've kept locked away for three hundred years."

"Will it help?" I asked. "Will it show me how to use the blood bond?"

"It will show you why the bond matters." Dorian turned to leave, then paused. "And it will show you why Caspian is so afraid of you using it."

He left before I could ask what he meant.

I looked at Caspian, who was staring at Dorian's retreating back with an expression I couldn't read.

"What is he talking about?" I demanded. "Why are you afraid?"

Caspian's hands were clenched at his sides. When he finally looked at me, his gold eyes were haunted. "Because the blood bond doesn't just connect us, Sera. It binds us. And if you use it to break the curse the way your grandmother intended, it won't just free everyone from death."

He stopped. Swallowed hard. I watched his throat work.

"It will make you immortal," he whispered. "And it will make me human."

Before I could process that—before I could even begin to understand what it meant—a scream echoed through the academy.

Then another.

Then another.

And the death knell began to toll again.