Page 29 of The Sins of Silas (The Otacian Chronicles #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

LENA

“ A true witch?” I asked Dani suspiciously. “You're saying that Mages are the true witches?”

She nodded. “Once you learn how to combine your powers with that in this grimoire, once you learn the Titharan language, you'll be stronger than ever.” Her smile turned playful. “You haven't even learned how to teleport yet.”

“TELEPORT?!” Elowen screeched, causing us all to jump. She shot her small hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she peeped.

Dani chuckled. “Yes. Gods, you guys are in for some real fun when I teach you what I know.”

Hendry's eyes narrowed, his arms crossing as he surveyed the blue-haired Warlock. “If you are able to do all this as well, what makes Mages the 'true witches'?”

“When I tell you our Warlock magic is but a fraction of the Mages, I mean it. We can't just hold out our palms and heal. We can' t raise our arms and create a forcefield or have the elements drift from our fingertips at will. We can't conjure familiars. All we can do that is special is shape-shift.” Her eyes slid to Viola's. “And the pretty one here can apparently do that, too. So, these spells and incantations are all we have.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, causing Dani to look at me. “Thank you for your willingness to teach us this.”

She smiled. “Don't thank me. Just kick Ulric and this necromancer's asses.”

Three days passed. Both evenings, Dani insisted on teaching Viola, Merrick, Elowen, and me everything she could, even though she was the most tired, shifting to carry Viola and Merrick along the journey.

“What is this place?” Edmund asked skeptically as Dani stopped before what appeared to be an abandoned circus.

Shifting back into a human form—this time male—Dani stated, “This was the original Freak Show.” He sighed as he surveyed the absolute mess. Large tents were still raised, the fabric lightly tattered. A large wooden carousel was in the center of the scenery, creaking from the evening wind. “Those people you guys met? The ones with oddities who weren’t Warlocks? They had their own show here.” He stepped up to the carousel. “Remarkable, isn't it? This was crafted by the most talented woodworker I'd ever seen.” He pointed to a crank to its left. “He was a strong man—big, beefy guy. You'd never guess that this was his hidden talent. He was the only one strong enough to twist the mechanics for the children to ride.”

Elowen's saddened gaze loomed over this desolate place. “What happened?”

“Faltrun,” Silas answered for him, his golden gaze flicking to the healer. “Faltrun demanded payments—a commission for the group performing so close to their territory.”

Dani nodded. “The people who designed this place and lived here fought back. They were not going to be slaves to a kingdom they were not a part of. Faltrun had this place raided, killing a handful of innocents, including the talented man who created this…” He ran his hands along the wood, now damaged from neglect. “We had only a handful of survivors seeking refuge in Forsmont. Leroy welcomed them with open arms, and through their stories and their ideas, we created something even better. Safer.” He shook his head, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Until the damn Undead attacked.”

“Faltrun almost sounds as bad as Otacia,” Viola mumbled.

Hendry's mismatched eyes slid over, and in his troubled eyes, I could tell he wished to retort but couldn't because she was right.

“When we arrive, I wouldn't expect the treatment you received in Forsmont, that’s for sure. While they may not have a kill order for magical beings, we must keep our identity a secret. I don’t trust them.”

He trailed his sight back to the various tents. “It looks like shit on the outside, but the tents really aren't that bad inside. We took what was salvageable and brought it back to Forsmont already.” He clapped his hands together. “After we do some more training, we can set up camp inside.”

Roland watched in amusement thirty minutes later as I attempted to create mage light. Dani had pointed to the script in the grimoire. ‘Lumen’ could also produce mage light, and the Warlock insisted that if I used the words, I could produce a longer-lasting glow.

Regular mage light was a common innate ability that Mages possessed, but one I hadn't taught myself, as I had my fire to produce light.

My time traveling to Ames five years ago was spent holding my magic in, holding it in like I never had before. The night I got my ice didn't compare to the agony I felt on the road. Once my reality set in…as my days apart from Silas grew.

Those months, the weather had begun to chill, but it was still only autumn. Nevertheless, I would find my fingertips encased in frost, my limbs stiff as I wandered without an ounce of joy.

That time on the road was spent attempting to control that ice. Finding out I was with a child helped a lot, but still, the nights my mind wandered, I found myself growing cold.

I still felt guilt whenever I thought of it…that perhaps my struggle was what harmed my child. That his death was my fault.

“You are not to blame,” Torrin had insisted days after my son's passing. “You would've done anything to save him. You are a wonderful mother.”

I chewed on my lip as I recalled the memories, trying my hardest not to break down as I conjured up the little glowing orbs.

In the months following that tragedy, my fire and ice fought for dominance. Some days, I was so angry I felt like I could turn Ames to ash. Others, I would grow so cold that my body couldn't move.

“I am not a mother,” I had sobbed. “I failed.”

He held my face, those warm, brown eyes burning into mine, seeing me for all that I was. Like they always had.

“You are a mother. And you did not fail.” He had pulled me into his arms, rocking me, warming me with his magic. “Your child is with Ravaiana now, roaming the skies in Elysium. No child shall suffer. Every child is free. That is engraved in her temple.”

I still struggled with my belief in the Gods and Goddesses sometimes. I especially did after the loss of my baby.

But Torrin believed, and his words comforted me.

“You will be with him again one day…this is not the end,” he had whispered in my mind.

I sniffed and quickly wiped away my tears as they forced their way down my face at the thought of Torrin.

Roland's smile dissipated just as Merrick leaned over and whispered, “Are you okay?”

I nodded, sniffing once more and taking a shaky breath.

I wasn't. But I needed to shove those emotions down…until I could find a quiet place alone.

Torrin helped me control my ice…had helped me tame my fire. He even taught me how to wield my electricity, to fight with it.

He never told me when he got his.

Anyway, I had much to learn over the past few years. Mage lights were last on my list.

“Lumen,” I chanted, my fingers pinching together before flicking them outward. A large orb, the size of cantaloupe, shot out from my hand, floating in the air like a bubble .

I smiled weakly, but the gesture only lasted for a moment before a sinking feeling filled my chest.

“Very good, Lena!” Dani praised, his strong biceps flexing as he clapped.

They can't be here. Not now.

“Now I want to teach you a basic ward. It's—”

Dani was cut off by Elowen's deafening shriek. Our heads whirled toward her as she clasped the sides of her head, falling to her knees.

“Elowen!” Edmund shouted, grasping her arms and searching her face.

A moment later, Silas was wailing, reaching for his head.

I inhaled sharply, flame creeping up my arms and legs. I knew now that Silas had a sensitivity to flame, but it was my strongest form of magic. When it came to the Undead, I would be taking no chances.

My eyes darted around us, in the forest, between the tents.

“They've found us!” Erabella cried, and I whirled to where a singular figure stood.

Vicsin Astair.

“N-no,” Elowen sobbed as she fell to her knees, her aqua eyes scrunched in pain. “Father…”

Merrick watched in horror as his father stepped forward, eyes solid black, that same spider and pentagram combo etched into the skin on his forehead. Vicsin's lip raised, his head cocking, and El and Silas cried out harder. Blood began dripping from their noses.

“Stop this!” Roland snarled, withdrawing his sword.

Vicsin's attention skated to him. He laughed. “Silly human.” The voice was Vicsin's…and his . “You really believe you stand a chance against me?”

“The Lord of the Shadows, is it?” I yelled, and Vicsin's black glaze slid to mine. “What do you want from us?”

His cruel smile grew. “Lena Daelyra…such a powerful Mage.” My flames reflected in those cold, soulless eyes. “Isn't it obvious? I want your power for my own.”

He tilted his hand, and Elowen shrieked, Silas’s screams growing louder.

My heart was beating out of my chest, but I remained strong. “Stop hurting them, and we may come to an agreement.”

“What?” Hendry hissed.

“Lena, no—” Dani began.

I ignored them. Vicsin's heartless smile remained, and his hand fell to his side. Elowen gasped, and Silas let out a painful groan. Both of their hands fell to the ground, steadying themselves. I loosened a breath as my friends caught theirs.

“What do you think you have to offer me that I cannot take for myself already?”

I wracked my brain for something, anything I could offer him.

“Alliance.”

“What?!” Silas choked out, but I didn't look at him. My eyes remained solely on Vicsin—on the necromancer who was looking at me through his eyes.

Vicsin laughed, really laughed. “There is no allying with me. You can either bow or perish.”

I was taking a huge risk with my next words…I could only hope my judgment was correct. “I am the only one who knows where the Weapon is.”

To that, Vicsin's laughing ceased, his gaze hardening on mine. He stared at me in silence, and the hairs on the back of my neck raised at his chilling appearance…the colorless skin, the dark veins.

“Where?” he gritted out.

I wanted to give him a hateful smile, but I didn't wish to provoke him. “I'll bring it to you…but only if you stay out of my way.”

“Lena, no!” Silas begged. “You're making a deal with the devil!”

Vicsin's sadistic grin returned. “Why would you give it to me?”

I prayed he would not call my bluff. “Because I'd rather see it in a Mage's hand than in a La'Rune's.”

Silas's fist shook as he gripped the grass beneath him, glaring at me in contempt. “You…”

Something glimmered in Vicsin's eyes…something I couldn't place. He released a breath. “Very well, Miss Daelyra. I won't disturb your travels as you find me my Weapon.” His hands flew up, and once again were Elowen and Silas screaming, clutching their heads. My enraged eyes went back to his.

“Don't worry. The hallucinations will only last a few hours. Just know that this is but a sliver of the power I hold.” He smiled ruefully. “Consider it a reminder of what is to come should you betray me.”

He turned, sprinting away, and I swore as I rushed to my friends' sides.

“Lena,” Silas cried in agony, eyes squeezed shut.

“Let's get them in either tent,” Dani nervously sputtered, then handed over to me a pouch of salt. “El in one, Silas in the other—we must soundproof, or else we'll alert all of Tovagoth where we are.”

Edmund and Merrick lifted a thrashing Elowen while Roland and Hendry lifted Silas. I rushed with Era into the further tent while Dani and Viola went with Elowen.

Silas 's scream was so heartbreaking that my eyes flooded with tears. “Dani, what do we do to help them?!” I called out as our distance increased.

His pained eyes shot back to mine. “I have no idea.”

They rushed into their tent a moment before we hurried into ours.

The space was nearly empty, with nothing but a few broken chairs,

‘Lumen,’ I quickly repeated three times, sending the glowing lights into the air to lighten the space. The night was upon us, and this was the quickest option to brighten the space.

Roland and Hendry gently placed Silas on the ground.

When the Prince's eyes shot open, we all fumbled back at the sight of the black gaze that stared back at us. Not all black like the Undead, but Silas’s golden irises were gone as if his pupils were completely blown.

I quickly went to work, scattering the salt in a large circle around us. “Averte sonum intra hunc circulum. Averte sonum intra hunc circulum.”

His face crumpled. “Lena?” he whispered.

My whole body froze, and my eyes broadened at the tone of his voice. I quickly pivoted my head toward Era and the men. “Leave. It’s only going to get worse.”

“Averte sonum intra hunc circulum…averte sonum intra hunc circulum.”

Erabella's worried eyes darted between the two of us. “I need to be here for him—”

“LENA!” Silas wailed, lunging forward to grasp me, the action causing Era to jolt backward .

I held a forcefield out, shoving Silas down on his ass. He grunted as he hit the ground. “Please,” I begged them. “Please leave.”

“Are you sure?” Hendry asked desperately. “What if we can help?”

“Yeah—” Roland began, just as Silas turned to his side, lying down.

“I think I'm going to be sick,” Silas grumbled, panting as sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Averte sonum intra hunc circulum…averte sonum intra hunc circulum.”

The circle was now complete. I glanced at Hendry. “Check if it works.”

He did as I asked, stepping out of the circle.

“Can you hear me?”

He shook his head no.

I tilted toward Roland and Era. “Just go. I can handle this," I assured them.

A few more moments of consideration passed, and as Silas began to wail again, Era gave a curt nod, then bolted out of the tent, Hendry and Roland in tow.

“Shh…” I whispered as I hurried to his side, rubbing his back. But Silas’s cries wouldn’t stop. “I’m here, I’m here.”

He flipped over, wide-eyed as he gazed at me. His dark eyes made my stomach turn, knowing that I couldn’t just pull him back to reality. Despite all the pain he was in, no tears trailed down his face.

I held my palm to his head. I felt no burning in my palms, no sign of healing being needed.

This magic…it wasn't normal. I couldn't place what was different about it, but I could feel its wrongness .

I willed my healing magic to the front, anyway, hoping that the comforting touch could relieve some of his pain. If Elowen weren't also inebriated with this power, she could make this painless for him, I reckoned.

I bet the Lord of the Shadows knew that.

“I can’t.” Silas's voice broke as he stared at me. “I have tried, but I can’t.”

I focused my magic on his temples. I didn’t know if it was helping.

“Can’t what?” I asked softly.

“I can’t!” he wailed, squeezing his eyes shut. I stifled a cry as I watched him begin to hit himself, punching at his head. “I can’t stop. I can’t turn it off!”

I grasped his hands. His physical strength far superseded my own, but I pulled hard, forcing his assault to a halt. His black eyes shot open, taking me in.

“I know…” I slowly removed one of my hands from his. I gently stroked his cheek, and those haunting eyes fluttered shut. “It will be over before you know it,” I promised.

His breaths were shallow. “You left me,” he whispered.

My stomach dropped, guilt overtaking me. “I know…I am so sorry…”

“I…if it happens again…” His voice trailed off. “If he finds out…if he sees…” His black eyes shot open, blown wide. “I CAN’T, LENA! I CAN’T!”

His back shot up from the ground, and he crawled back on his palms, stumbling away as if I were something sinister.

“Silas!” I cried, crawling to him and then holding his face in my hands. His frightened eyes locked on mine, his body trembling in trepidation. “What you are seeing is not real. You are safe!” Tears slid down my cheeks. “You are safe with me, Quill.”

His lip trembled, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Safe…” he breathed.

“Yes, safe with me, Quill,” I repeated, pressing my lips to his forehead, my eyes squeezing shut as more tears poured out of me. It was wrecking me seeing him like this.

“I don’t accept it…I don’t.” He shook his head back and forth, his eyes shutting.

I knew I couldn’t reason with him. He was sputtering nonsense.

The necromancer said hallucinations. What exactly was Silas seeing?

His whole forehead was covered in sweat.

“Silas, let’s take your shirt off.”

His eyes flared. “No,” he growled.

“You are covered in sweat.” My fingers only brushed the buttons of his shirt before he roughly gripped my wrist.

“NO!” he shouted.

I flinched. He’d never yelled at me like that before. My voice was small as I asked, “May I unbutton it at least?”

His breathing was staggered, his eyes flashing with so many emotions. “My back.” His voice broke. “My back must stay covered.”

My eyes softened. “Okay. I promise your back will stay covered.”

Slowly, I released each button, revealing skin just as golden beneath it. His body was even more defined than when we were younger, and sweat droplets were trickling down his chest and stomach muscles, the skin covered in ink just like the rest of him. Part of me missed his bare skin from before, but I found myself loving his flesh for what it was now.

I think I would love any version of him. I don’t think I could help it.

When I separated the fabric, my lips parted as I took in the view of the tattoo in the center of his chest.

A dagger. Not just any dagger. It was the exact same hilt as the one I used when we were younger…when he trained me. The first weapon I ever bought myself. The one I held to a girl's neck the first day Silas saw me.

The blade was piercing through a—

“Flower,” Silas breathed.

My teary eyes slid up to meet his. “This tattoo…” I traced my fingers along the ink, and Silas shivered at my touch, his body relaxing. “You got it for me?”

“It’s…It’s your dagger, going through a rose. Your favorite…flower,” His breathing quickened. “Over my heart.” His face crumpled as he took me in. “I wish I could have saved you,” he choked. “I should have kept you safe.”

“Silas…” I brought my lips to his forehead again, the taste of his sweat salty against my lips. “I am alive. I am here with you.”

“Alive…” he breathed, and as I pulled away, he gripped the back of my neck.

My brows drew together just as Silas yanked me forward, forcing my lips against his.

My eyes shot wide, but they quickly shut at the familiar feel of his mouth against mine. Those perfect, soft lips.

Silas slid his hand in my hair, and our mouths parted at the same time, allowing our tongues to glide along each other’s.

His taste…his fucking taste .

He eagerly nipped at my bottom lip, and as I ran my hand along his chest, along those delicious abs, a soft moan escaped me.

“My love,” he whispered, and tears began to burn in my eyes.

But as intoxicating as the kiss was, Silas pushed me back, his dark eyes broad as he staggered to his feet. “I…I didn’t know,” he insisted, his voice shaking. “I…” He shook his head back and forth.

He didn’t know what was happening, what was real or not. I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do as he was further lost in the necromancer's delusion.