Page 45
Story: Of Steel and Scale
“You have to. You’re the only trained first aider here.”
“But—”
“Suzi and Jace are also injured. I need you here to keep an eye on things until we get back.”
She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I do not agree with this decision.”
A grin broke free. “You never do when it means you being left out of the action for even the most practical of reasons.”
“Truth.” She sniffed. “As long as I get to see the drakkling, I won’t complain.”
“Oh, you will, and we both know it,” I said dryly. “I will just ignore as per usual.”
“Another truth.”
With a smile, she turned and walked back to her patients. I moved over to the exit near the tear’s sharp point and stopped, mentally “feeling” for any more olm. None were close, but that didn’t mean much, given how fast they could move. The scent of blood and death might take a while to filter into the deeper tunnels, but they would eventually scent it. And to them, meat was meat; it wouldn’t matter if the bulk of that scent belonged to their own kind.
I stepped closer to the edge of the exit and placed the tip of my sword against the hard stone of the floor. The Ithican blade had as little trouble biting through stone as it did flesh, and in very little time, I’d carved out a fine, semicircular line around Kele and the recon team.
Damon finished siphoning a second olm, then walked over and stopped beside me. “That line marks the no-crossing zone. If any of you step beyond it, the protective curtain will fall.”
“Will the olm be able to break through?” Suzi asked, doubt evident. “They’re tenacious enough to keep battering at it, and no magic lasts forever.”
“No, it doesn’t, but this spell should give you a good seven or so hours, as long as no one breaks the seal.”
“What about the rescue party?” Jace said.
“They won’t get in unless you step out. Creating a complete barrier is faster and easier than creating one with exceptions.”
“And if the barrier starts fading before rescue gets here?” Kele asked.
“We should be back by then,” I replied. “But if we’re not, well, flame for as long as you can and don’t get dead.”
She smiled and lightly saluted. “Sound advice, Captain.”
I stepped back and motioned Damon to proceed. He drew in a deeper breath, then slowly released it. The bloody glow in his eyes sharpened, and the air around him briefly shimmered and pulsed.
He walked over to where I’d started my line, pushed up his left shirt sleeve, then began to spell, his voice taking on a deeper, softer note that vibrated through my entire being. I didn’t understand a word he was saying—the language sounded Angolan, which made sense, given that’s where his mom and her kin were from—but his phrasing was older and far more formal. It was also hauntingly, almost heartbreakingly, beautiful.
He raised the water flask and slowly walked forward, continuing to spell as he dribbled blood with surprising precision onto my line. With every step, every drop, the power in the air grew, making the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck rise even if the only visible indication of the curtain he was building was the faintest shimmer that briefly appeared after each drop hit the stone.
When he reached the other side, he dropped the flask onto the ground behind him, then unsheathed his knife, raised his left wrist, and sliced it open.
I barely contained my gasp. I knew he was a blood mage. I just hadn’t expected him to use his own when he was already using olm.
He turned his wrist around and let the blood fall onto that of the olms. The melodious spell briefly rose in tempo, then stopped with an abruptness that had my breath catching in my throat. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, then a faint stream of scarlet rose from the point where his blood had smothered the olms’. The smoke thickened as it raced back along the line and fused the droplets together. When the smoke hit the far side, there was a short, soft explosion. The blood along the entire length of my trench turned black, and that faint shimmer disappeared.
Damon pulled down his sleeve and glanced at me. His eyes were once again blue, though their whites remained stained pink. “The barrier is raised. We’re good to go.”
“If it exists, why can’t we see it?” Jace asked, expression a weird mix of doubt and fear.
Understandable given there hadn’t been a blood witch in Esan for decades—at least, not as far as anyone knew—and this was a new experience for us all.
Damon shrugged. “It is the nature of the spell and the reason I asked for the stone to be marked. Captain, we should get moving.”
I nodded and glanced past him, my gaze briefly meeting Kele’s. There was fear in her eyes, though I doubted it had anything to do with the man or his magic.
“Be careful,” she silently mouthed.
“But—”
“Suzi and Jace are also injured. I need you here to keep an eye on things until we get back.”
She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I do not agree with this decision.”
A grin broke free. “You never do when it means you being left out of the action for even the most practical of reasons.”
“Truth.” She sniffed. “As long as I get to see the drakkling, I won’t complain.”
“Oh, you will, and we both know it,” I said dryly. “I will just ignore as per usual.”
“Another truth.”
With a smile, she turned and walked back to her patients. I moved over to the exit near the tear’s sharp point and stopped, mentally “feeling” for any more olm. None were close, but that didn’t mean much, given how fast they could move. The scent of blood and death might take a while to filter into the deeper tunnels, but they would eventually scent it. And to them, meat was meat; it wouldn’t matter if the bulk of that scent belonged to their own kind.
I stepped closer to the edge of the exit and placed the tip of my sword against the hard stone of the floor. The Ithican blade had as little trouble biting through stone as it did flesh, and in very little time, I’d carved out a fine, semicircular line around Kele and the recon team.
Damon finished siphoning a second olm, then walked over and stopped beside me. “That line marks the no-crossing zone. If any of you step beyond it, the protective curtain will fall.”
“Will the olm be able to break through?” Suzi asked, doubt evident. “They’re tenacious enough to keep battering at it, and no magic lasts forever.”
“No, it doesn’t, but this spell should give you a good seven or so hours, as long as no one breaks the seal.”
“What about the rescue party?” Jace said.
“They won’t get in unless you step out. Creating a complete barrier is faster and easier than creating one with exceptions.”
“And if the barrier starts fading before rescue gets here?” Kele asked.
“We should be back by then,” I replied. “But if we’re not, well, flame for as long as you can and don’t get dead.”
She smiled and lightly saluted. “Sound advice, Captain.”
I stepped back and motioned Damon to proceed. He drew in a deeper breath, then slowly released it. The bloody glow in his eyes sharpened, and the air around him briefly shimmered and pulsed.
He walked over to where I’d started my line, pushed up his left shirt sleeve, then began to spell, his voice taking on a deeper, softer note that vibrated through my entire being. I didn’t understand a word he was saying—the language sounded Angolan, which made sense, given that’s where his mom and her kin were from—but his phrasing was older and far more formal. It was also hauntingly, almost heartbreakingly, beautiful.
He raised the water flask and slowly walked forward, continuing to spell as he dribbled blood with surprising precision onto my line. With every step, every drop, the power in the air grew, making the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck rise even if the only visible indication of the curtain he was building was the faintest shimmer that briefly appeared after each drop hit the stone.
When he reached the other side, he dropped the flask onto the ground behind him, then unsheathed his knife, raised his left wrist, and sliced it open.
I barely contained my gasp. I knew he was a blood mage. I just hadn’t expected him to use his own when he was already using olm.
He turned his wrist around and let the blood fall onto that of the olms. The melodious spell briefly rose in tempo, then stopped with an abruptness that had my breath catching in my throat. For a heartbeat, nothing happened, then a faint stream of scarlet rose from the point where his blood had smothered the olms’. The smoke thickened as it raced back along the line and fused the droplets together. When the smoke hit the far side, there was a short, soft explosion. The blood along the entire length of my trench turned black, and that faint shimmer disappeared.
Damon pulled down his sleeve and glanced at me. His eyes were once again blue, though their whites remained stained pink. “The barrier is raised. We’re good to go.”
“If it exists, why can’t we see it?” Jace asked, expression a weird mix of doubt and fear.
Understandable given there hadn’t been a blood witch in Esan for decades—at least, not as far as anyone knew—and this was a new experience for us all.
Damon shrugged. “It is the nature of the spell and the reason I asked for the stone to be marked. Captain, we should get moving.”
I nodded and glanced past him, my gaze briefly meeting Kele’s. There was fear in her eyes, though I doubted it had anything to do with the man or his magic.
“Be careful,” she silently mouthed.
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