Chapter 8: The Blood Curse

I thought Sam Mason would retreat while fighting—after all, he was the top strategist of the Northern Campaign. But instead, he smiled bitterly:

"With Livingston on strategy and Lou Boone on force, any plan of mine is just asking for death."

His words hung heavy in the air, like the smell of defeat after a long, hard fight.

So, the army fled in panic, retreating all the way to Toledo. The night before entering the city, Sam Mason summoned me alone.

He sent for me after dark, when the cicadas were so loud you could barely hear yourself think. In the car, it was just us. When the driver was far off and only cicadas could be heard, he finally spoke:

"General Holt, things have come to this, so let’s be frank: one answer for one answer."

I was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Holt. We both know you’re not clueless. Let’s trade secrets, fair and square." Sam Mason smiled. "Everyone knows Livingston captured you seven times. He never does anything without purpose—there’s a reason for those captures and releases. I won’t make you tell me for nothing. Ask me a question first, then I’ll ask you."

"But how do I know you won’t lie?"

Sam Mason bit his finger, drew a line of blood in the air, circled me with it, then drew it into his own chest:

"This is a blood curse—if either of us lies, we die instantly. Now, ask."

His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes was sharp and dangerous. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.

"Fine. Tell me—what’s with the bell?"

Sam Mason was silent for a few seconds, then spoke nine words:

"When the bell rings, the living die, evil spirits are born."

The car seemed colder after that. My mind raced—evil spirits? Suddenly, I thought of Zane Long, Lou Boone, that pale Livingston—did Livingston become an evil spirit? And what did 'the living die' mean?

Before I could ask more, Sam Mason spoke:

"Now it’s my turn: General Holt, what did Professor Livingston tell you?"

I was instantly on guard. Sam Mason truly was a cunning old fox, trying to trick out everything Livingston told me with just nine words.

"Livingston told me," I chose my words carefully, "to take Lucas Chan or Peter Caldwell to East Haven."

"And?"

"That’s the second question," I smiled. "You only asked what he said, not that I had to tell you everything."

Sam Mason frowned, clearly displeased. "Then ask your second question."

This time, I didn’t fall for it.

"No need."

With that, I got out of the car. "Those nine words are enough."

The night air was damp, and the cicadas had gone silent. I could feel Sam Mason’s eyes on my back as I walked away.