Page 92 of Blood Fist

Jonen inhaled sharply, his hand instinctively dropping to his sword.

Halm noticed but held her ground. “Yes.”

“You don’t have magic,” Brune pointed out, far less squeamish around the subject than anyone else.

“No, but Buzzard does. I found some information that—I won’t bore you with the details, but essentially, I think I can manipulate Buzzard’s magic.” Halm looked between them all, knowing full well this is the kind of talk that nearly saw her clanless. “That’s all human magic wielders do, anyway. They just manipulatemagic that already exists. As a harpy, Buzzard can theoretically create as much magic as we need.”

“To what end?” Ridan asked, trying to keep his pre-existing bias from rearing its ugly head. He may not like magic, but he might not have a choice.

“That’s what I meant by treating the inside,” Halm elaborated, looking a little more relaxed now that she hadn’t been run through yet. “If we can somehow speak to Schok’s consciousness, I might be able to get him to fix himself.”

The room went quiet as they each processed just what she was saying. It was Corric who spoke first. “You want to try to reach Schok? NotthrallSchok, but whatever remains of him?”

“If anything remains, yes. He might be the only one capable of severing whatever connection the magic has on him.” Halm barreled on. “I’ve helped with a lot of healers, and the one thing I’ve learned is that medicine has its uses, but it’s limited. There comes a point where it’s up to the patient themselves. Medicines are like a sword. They help with the fight, but it’s the strength in an arm that makes all the difference.”

Ridan had seen it happen. Warriors who looked to be on the brink of death, yet the next day, they were awake. He’d seen it happen the other way around. Still, it made sense. He can’t exactly say he was used to thinking like this—but he could admit that Halm’s logic was sound.

And they had no other options.

He glanced over at Buzzard. Of all of them, he would be the only one who would know if this had a chance of working. His face was solemn, eyes trained on Halm like a predator. Perhaps he was just thinking, or maybe he was studying the woman. Looking for any signs of deceit.

“How are you going to do it?” Ridan asked, surprising the room.

“I’m not,” Halm admitted weakly. “I mean, I am. I’ll be doing the whole…” she waved her hands around his head. “But someone else is going to have to go in.”

“Goin?Like…physically.”

Halm shrugged. “Yes? Like I said, I don’t really know what I’m doing here. I’m working on half guesses and limited knowledge. It's not like there’s an abundance of magical books around to give me guidance. Buzzard has some knowledge, but he was never properly educated. Just…used.” she looked over at Buzzard apologetically, but the harpy just shrugged.

“So you have to send someone into his mind?” Ridan asked slowly.

“More like…send their consciousness?”

Ridan pinched his nose. It was one thing to do this with the outcome uncertain, but the procedure largely understood. He had planned enough battles to know that no matter how much knowledge and tact you had; the result was never guaranteed. But to not know either?

“I’ll do it,” Corric spoke up, answering a question no one asked.

Jonen jerked to his feet. “Absolutely not.”

Corric ignored him. “I’m the best person for the job. He knows me.”

“He knows Buzzard too!” Jonen shouted, glaring down at Corric, who refused to return the look.

“Buzzard is too weak,” Halm said. “Besides, I need him here for the magic.”

Jonen was hovering over Corric like someone was going to snatch him out from under him. His scent was turning ugly—fear and anger coiling together to be sooverpowering Ridan didn’t know if he wanted to plug his nose or punch Jonen in the face.

“Is it dangerous?” he asked, ignoring Jonen’s posturing.

Halm threw her hands up. “Most likely.”

Corric looked resolute, his face blank, but hands curled into fists. Ridan knew that look. He’d been on the receiving end of that look so many times he could almostfeelit. It usually preceded a punch.

“Then I’ll go.” Not that he wanted to dive headfirst into someone else’s consciousness, but he wasn’t about to let his packmate go.

He felt Brune stiffen beside him.

“Ridan, no.” he rarely heard Corric so firm, so it drew his attention. His packmate stood and approached him. “This isn’t your fight. I know that’s never stopped you before, but this time you must stand back. You are too important here.”