Mirium narrows her eyes at the implication of his
using her blood–and that it would be no worse or better than a
rodent’s. Still, with a glance at Keelath, she pulls up a sleeve and
pulls out the utility knife concealed in her sash…
Keelath makes a grunt of alarm. “You don’t have to–”
“I want to,” she says firmly, and pricks her arm with the knife…
It was a shock, and yet Malcotin had to hide his
joy. He did however wish to set her straight on what he had been asking.
“Dear Lady, I did not ask for your blood, neither did I compare it to a
rat. I merely mentioned we would need blood for the ritual. And no
person would need to be harmed, you misunderstood me…” He paused then as
it seemed she was determined.
“However, since you have offered, allow me to take just enough to do
this. I have to admire your willingness to sacrifice this small bit of
yourself. It is also a very intense ritual which will increase in power
by the very bond you share with your beloved.”
He removed the cap at the end of the glass tube, where it fit into
the opening by means of a cork and a lip that made it easy to capture
the bright red fluid now flowing in a trickle from her arm. The tube
filled fast, as the inside was considerably smaller in circumference
than the outside. Altogether, he collected exactly two ounces of blood,
filling the glass rod.
“Now, we need to use it. But it will work much better if you are feeling those urges, Keelath.” Malcotin gave the death knight a meaningful stare. “You are probably thinking right now, that you would like to tear me apart…aren’t you?”