Page 67 of Queen of the Crimson Throne (Queen of Blood and Stardust #2)

67

LUCIANA

Kara was gone.

I gripped the blood-stained note in my hand. It was up to me to see if I could figure out who had taken her from a piece of paper.

Lennox was sleeping now, but when she woke she’d be inconsolable. I wanted to give her something. Some hint of where Kara was when she woke.

I was the only person who could.

But no pressure.

I gripped the back of the couch, my nails digging into the fabric as tension radiated from my body. I could do this. For Kara, I could do this.

“Are you okay?” I jumped at the sound of Nico’s voice. I knew he had followed me, but I didn’t realize he had followed me all the way into my room.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Liar.” I looked over my shoulder and glared at him.

“Your cousin was just kidnapped, no sane person would be fine.”

“Whoever said I was sane?” I countered.

“I mean…”

“I need you to leave,” I gritted, my grip on the couch increasing. I needed him gone. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate with him here. I wouldn’t be able to push my magic as far as I needed with him hovering over me

“I’m not leaving.” He planted himself in one of the chairs in the sitting room. “I’m here to make sure you don’t push yourself too far and get some sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.”

He raised a silver brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Your presence will interfere with the spell,” I argued.

“Doubtful.” He crossed one leg over his knee. “That’s never stood in the way before. Just think of me as moral support.”

“Fuck off.” I flipped him a vulgar gesture over my shoulder as I made my way to the chest at the end of the bed.

He was silent in the chair as I gathered my materials. I stacked the relics in my arms before making my way to the table by the window.

I set out my materials, referencing my spellbook, making sure I had everything before I mixed the relics in my bowl, trying to ignore the presence of the wolf in the corner.

When I couldn’t resist anymore, I peeked at him over my shoulder. I silently cursed myself when I realized his gaze was set on me, watching me work. He gave me a lopsided smile. I shook my head and turned my attention back to my spell.

I took a deep breath, once everything was mixed, scanning the spellbook one more time to make sure I had committed the spell to memory.

Once I was confident, I brought the note left in Kara’s room to the lantern on the table, carefully placing the corner into the flames. I watched the flame take over the parchment, the blood staining it dissolved into ashes, falling into the bowl under my hands. When all but the corner I was holding had turned to ash I let the paper fall into the bowl with the rest of the ashes. I brought my magic to my fingertips, splashing five drops of water into the bowl before pricking my finger and letting five drops of my blood fall in as well.

Using my finger, I mixed the relics in the bowl, the mixture having formed a soft paste of sorts. I scooped the material into my palm, coating the inside of my hands with the substance. Once they were properly coated I locked my hands together in a prayer position, closing my eyes and mumbling the spell.

After several minutes of chanting I could feel the substance coating my palms heat, the texture of the substance shifted, and it felt more grainy now as it absorbed into my skin.

My palms burned slightly as the magic worked its way into my hands, but I kept my palms pressed together as instructed, continuing with my chanting.

I could feel it now, the letter was a part of me. I could feel the paper, the ink, as it worked its way into my bloodstream. The texture of the paper grated against my skin somehow, my veins.

Now where did you come from? Whose hands did you touch?

Lennox, I could sense Lennox.

And Luka.

Both of them had held the letter.

More. I needed more.

I increased the speed of my chanting, pressing my palms together harder.

Who else had this letter come in contact with?

I tasted blood at the back of my throat.

Kara. My magic whispered.

The blood belonged to Kara.

My legs trembled. She would be fine.

My whole body burned as I continued to pull at my magic, searching for more traces of the letter.

Who else? Who else?

My jaw locked. Who else? I screamed into the abyss.

A figure formed in my mind. There . I followed the thread of magic toward them as they continued to manifest .

The figure was dark—but I couldn’t glean anything else yet. They were sitting, there was something in their hand.

Was that who wrote the letter? Is that what they were doing?

I dove farther into my magic, it bucked against my call, but I continued to pull at it. I was so close.

Something dripped down my face, but I ignored it as I drew closer to the figure.

The tips of my fingers were edged in pain, I ignored it.

I was almost there.

“Luciana.”

I ignored his voice. I tried to move my hands, but they refused.

Just a little farther. My feet remained planted in place.

What the fuck , I grumbled. I pulled at my magic again, but it refused.

“Lucy.”

The illusion around me faded. My room came back into view around me as I fell to the floor.

“Luce,” Nico gasped, catching me before I hit the ground.

I gritted my teeth. “Bastard, I was so close!” I screamed. “I told you, you’d break my focus!”

“I need to try again.” I tried to stand, but couldn’t, my legs refused to move.

“The fuck you will, Luce. You are not doing that again.” I shoved him off of me, as much as I could without being able to move my legs.

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Luce, that spell, the magic was consuming your body. It was eating at you from the inside out.” I furrowed my brows. “Your hands and feet were frozen, your lips were turning blue, your nose was bleeding profusely.”

I brought my hand to my face, and when I removed it blood stained my fingertips.

“Do you even have any magic left? ”

I searched inside, feeling for the well of magic that resided in my chest, finding only a small ember of it remained.

I had used it all. Every last drop.

I looked at my stinging hands.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t mean to, I was—I was so close.” But yet again I had failed. I slammed my fists against the floor. “Fuck!”

I stood, the sensation in my legs finally allowing me to do so. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I took the bowl that had held the relics, throwing it to the floor. It landed with a satisfying crash, the pieces flying across the wooden floor.

With a heaving chest, I turned back to the table and grabbed a jar in each hand. I threw both of them, they crashed to the floor, shattering glass and relics across the floor. What good was this magic if it could only lead me so close to answers, so close I could almost taste them, only to cut me off time and time again before I could get what I needed? Failure. I was such a failure. Could I do anything right? One by one I smashed the jars until there were none left on the table.

The floor was littered in glass and a mixture of the relics. My mother would kill me if she knew I was wasting relics this way.

But I didn’t give a fuck.

I wanted them gone.

I summoned my magic, intending on using wisps of air to clean the mess, but came up empty.

Even now my magic failed me with this simple task.

I stared at the mess on the floor. I always made such a mess of things, didn’t I? Streams of water made their way through the shards of glass, soon there was a small river in the middle of my bedroom, carrying away the glass and relics until they disappeared off the balcony, leaving the floor spotless, like nothing had happened.

“Thank you.” I didn’t bother to look at Nico. “I don’t have any magic left. I can’t even clean up my mess so I can’t try the spell again.” Even if I tried again later it wouldn’t work. Not without another item linking me to whoever took Kara.

I crawled into bed. Not even bothering to pull the covers up over me as I curled into a ball and hugged my knees to my chest.

The bed dipped beside me. “You’re not a failure.” Nico’s voice was clear but soft. “You did everything you could.”

“Exactly,” I muttered. “I did everything I could and it still wasn’t good enough.”

I jumped at the feeling of his calloused palm on the bare skin of my arm as he rubbed up and down several times, before wrapping his arm around me. His front was warm against my back, warming my chilled skin. I didn’t have it in me to ask him to leave, so I said nothing and let him hold me.

“You are good enough, Lucy,” he said finally.

Those were the last words I heard before I let sleep consume me.