Chapter 4

Patrick Henson's sword hand shook violently, the murderous intent boiling off him crushed flat by that vast surge of immortal power.

The uproar cut off all at once, and every elder and disciple turned toward the source.

High in the clouds stood a figure, austere and unmistakable in bearing. It was the Pruitt enforcement elder.

Victor Cobb's cold gaze swept the gathering.

"Quite the display of authority, Golden Saint. My Pruitt family has quelled demons for generations. Since when does it fall to you to pass judgment on your own and publicly cut down our Saint?"

Patrick Henson swept the fury from his eyes in an instant, and not a trace of the panic of a man exposed showed on his face.

"You misunderstand, Elder. Ruth Pruitt is tainted with demon energy and consorts with the demon race. The law of the immortal order is clear. I merely handled it fairly. As for what she said just now about a child, that is her demon nature run wild, slandering at random."

Before anyone could raise a question, he spoke again, bent on scrubbing himself and Selene clean.

"Selene carries a secret art of the demon race within her body, no doubt planted to sow discord inside the immortal order. It is no matter of flesh and blood. Immortals and demons cannot coexist. How could I ever break the very law I uphold?"

The light-screen flared with rage.

"Unbelievable. In one second he's turned a private affair scandal into demon-race sorcery. He's probably still got no idea Selene really got pregnant on the sly to claw her way up."

Sure enough, the faces of the immortal order softened all around, and the eyes turning to Patrick Henson filled again with respect and sympathy.

I stood quietly inside the ring of them, and by now there was nothing left worth pretending.

Slowly I raised my eyes, clear and untroubled, and looked straight at him.

"Handled it fairly? Patrick Henson, do you dare say aloud, in front of everyone, where the demon blood in my body came from?"

"You mixed Selene's demon blood into my tonic with your own hands and forced me to drink it. You deliberately severed the spirit-veins between me and the Pruitt maternal house, cutting off every outside ally I had."

"You knew I was innocent, and still you laid your trap step by step. You wrote that letter of slaughter on purpose, left the flaw on purpose to bait me into trying to save my family, then seized me in front of everyone and named my crime."

The faces around us changed, and the murmuring rose again.

Patrick Henson's eyes went cold in a flash. Never once had he imagined I saw through every hidden calculation of his so completely.

Just as he moved to speak in his own defense, a familiar figure came hurrying in.

Tyler Pruitt strode into the circle and bowed to the assembled elders.

"Elders, see clearly. My sister has been blind for ten years, her heart knotted with grief until her mind has long since broken. Now that she is touched by demon thought, her delusions have only multiplied. Nothing she says can be taken as truth."

He turned to me, and there was not the smallest warmth of a brother in his eyes.

"Ruthie, admit your fault and know your wrong. Stop these mad accusations against the Golden Saint. Do not drag the Pruitt family down with you."

The familiar brother, the familiar gentleness, and beneath it all rotted through to the bone.

I looked at him, and a soft laugh slipped out of me.

I raised my hand and pointed straight at Tyler Pruitt's heart.

"I'm delusional?"

"Then the demon marks that won't wash off my brother's body—are those my delusion too?"

As the words landed, everyone followed my gaze to Tyler Pruitt.

Only I could see them: the purple demon marks coiling thick and glaring around him, layer upon layer.

Victor Cobb's eyes flashed, and he raised his hand at once to cast the verifying art.

In a breath the marks on Tyler Pruitt were laid bare before them all, plain in everyone's sight.

The whole gathering erupted.

"Tyler Pruitt has been consorting with the demon race?"

"All those times he came up the mountain—it turns out he wasn't visiting his sister at all, but meeting the Demon Sovereign in secret."

"No wonder the Pruitt family has been struck by so many strange things lately. There was a traitor inside all along."

Tyler Pruitt's face went bloodless, his footing stumbling, his eyes wild with panic and disgrace.

Patrick Henson stood where he was, watching me stand cold and resolute, and his heart of the Dao shook violently.

He had thought me a plaything in his palm, never dreaming I had long since seen through every selfish scheme and every drop of his venom.

There was not a shred of guilt in him, only a churning dread run deep and the fury of a man shamed.

I held every secret of his that could never see daylight. As long as I lived, the name he had built with such care would hang forever over the edge of a cliff.

Victor Cobb looked at the wretched figure of Tyler Pruitt, his face grave, and gave his order in a low, hard voice.

"Tyler Pruitt has colluded with the demon race and betrayed his own. The proof is beyond doubt. Take this man into custody and question him without mercy."

Immortal-order disciples surged forward at once, and the chains wound around Tyler Pruitt's wrists.

Tyler Pruitt shook all over, struggling in blind, frantic terror.

At that very moment a Pruitt cultivator burst through the barrier, soaked in blood, his voice torn with despair.

"Elder, something terrible has happened."