Page 54

Laurel

It is said that blood mages can create potions and spells for other magic users, though this has never been confirmed. Whether this is because it is not true, or because blood mages are so infrequently willing to share their magic, this scholar cannot say.

Blood Magic Through the Ages

“Guards, guards!” I scream in panic as we arrive in my rooms. Thorne is dead weight, and it takes all my strength to slowly lower his large body to the ground without hurting him or myself. His blood covers us both, the scent tinged with the acidic rancor of iron. The two guards Thorne insisted I keep at my door rush in and look upon the bloody scene before them, eyes wide with confusion and fear. I’m grateful for their presence at this moment, even though it had annoyed me to no end when Thorne had declared I must have guards for my rooms. “Get me Admon and your Lieutenant Captain,” I order with my aether-voice.

They pale, though one of them breaks through the order long enough to say, “What about Captain Carex, Your Majesty?” I snarl, and they look terrified, but I don’t care. Not right now.

“Carex should be considered a traitor to the crown. He’s not to be informed of our arrival,” I hiss with the aether-voice again. He’s the only person who could have betrayed our secret to the rebels, the only person other than Admon who knew of the mating bond, and I trust Admon implicitly. I will not risk Carex gaining any additional information.

The guards nod and leave, eyes glassy with the compulsion of the aether-voice. I turn my attention back to Thorne. Lunaria appears at my side, nuzzling my thigh before considering Thorne. Her yellow eyes study him while she sniffs his wounds, hissing at whatever she smells. Her reaction only makes the terror I’m barely holding at bay seep out of the walls I keep firmly in place around it. My breaths come in deep pants as I try and fail to heal his wounds with every magic available to me. Soothing water, warm light, and medicinal plants gently cover his wounds to no avail. Sobs wrack my body, but I keep going, hurling every bit of magic I can at my mate, despite feeling the shakiness of burnout quickly approaching. I lost all sense of self in that fight, completely at the whims of the mating bond, and thus did nothing to conserve my power.

Lunaria pads to the wine shelf and yowls loudly. I look on in confusion as she paces back and forth in front of it, clearly trying to tell me something. Before I can determine what she means, there’s a knock at the door, and I yell for whoever it is to come in, hoping it’s Admon. The only Thayarian I truly trust anymore opens the door and his face goes white. Admon quickly walks toward Thorne and me and Lunaria hisses at him before she disappears.

“What happened?” he asks, voice filled with concern.

“The rebels. They attacked the festival. We went after them, but they got away. I only managed to get Thorne and me out. He was hit with three iron arrows,” I explain, breathless and fearful.

“What about Fionn and Silene?”

Grief wraps around me like a blanket. “The rebels took them,” I whisper, tears running down my cheeks. I wipe them away. “Can you help me heal Thorne faster? He and I can go after Silene and Fionn, but we have to heal him first. I can’t—I need him.” The last words come out a whimper, and were they in front of anyone but Admon, I would cringe with the vulnerability I’ve displayed. But Admon has been by my side through so many tragedies, has provided the comfort of a parent even as I grieved the death of my own mother and father.

Admon looks at Thorne’s wounds, then shakes his head. “I’m afraid these wounds are beyond my abilities. Nemesia may be able to help, but it would take several days of being removed from the iron influence for her to recover the strength. Thorne will recover, it will just take some time. Remove the iron still buried in his wounds, then set him up with the palace healers.”

I stand and pace back and forth across the room, a frustrated cry rolling from my dry throat. We don’t have time . I need to go after Silene and Fionn now, but I don’t want to do it without Thorne by my side. It’s a testament to how deeply he’s carved into my very being, that rather than rushing off to fight the battle alone, I pause so that I can bring him with me. I give him one more look before resigning myself to doing it alone, letting out a deep sigh.

Despite Admon’s presence, Lunaria returns, pawing at the wine rack. It finally dawns on me what she’s been trying to tell me. “You brilliant creature,” I murmur, rubbing her head. Admon looks on, an emotion in his eyes I can’t place.

I take the now opened bottle of thayar concentrate from the rack, pouring two small measures. Crouching next to Thorne, I dump the contents of one down his throat, then close his mouth and hold his nose to force him to swallow. He begins to glow. Taking a deep breath, I pull a dagger from my side and dig into the wound at his side to remove the arrowhead still lodged there. His body reacts to the pain by clenching and sweating, but he doesn’t make a sound. That silence forces me to move faster. You will not lose him. Hands covered in his blood, I rip the arrowhead out of his thigh. Then I gently lift him on his side to pull the arrowhead from the wounds in his back and shoulder. As I lay him back down, his body glows brighter, and I can tell that the light wants to heal him but can’t break through the poison of the iron.

I look at the second dose of thayar concentrate, pausing for a moment to evaluate whether this is a good idea. Who knows how much aether I’ll channel with thayar concentrate coursing through my veins, but it’s a risk I must take to save my mate. Admon understands what I plan to do.

“Your Majesty, are you sure this is wise? Have you ever taken thayar concentrate before? Do you know how it will impact your power?”

“Nope,” I say with a forced irreverence that would make Thorne proud. And before Admon can convince me not to, I down the concentrate.

My body heats from the inside out, and I can feel myself sparking with energy. The light in the room becomes blinding, forcing Admon to shield his eyes, and I realize it’s because I’m glowing so brilliantly. Power like I’ve never experienced slams through my body, knocking me flat on my face. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to exercise the control I’ve honed over centuries. Though it’s difficult, I wrestle the aether pulsing through me into my firm grasp, then focus my attention on Thorne. A thread connects his body to mine, so clear with this boost in magic that a sob of relief pushes against my throat. As long as he’s tethered to me, I know he’ll live.

I place my hand over the wound on his thigh, and I swear the blood that coats my hands—Thorne’s blood—shimmers, but I don’t stop to consider what it could mean. I surround the wound with the strongest water, light, and plant healing magic I know how to conjure, somehow also knowing through some deeply seeded knowledge that I can coax his own light to follow my command to heal him. I pump aether into him, praying the extra power I gave him with his own dose of concentrate will also aid in quick healing. Skin slowly stitches itself back together, and I cry out in joy. Then I flip him over and heal the wounds in his shoulder and back, repeating the process of gathering as much aether as I can and guiding it into him through every conduit available to me. When I lay him back down, color has returned to his face, and the fevered sweat that dotted his brow is gone.

Slowly, Thorne opens his eyes, though he has to immediately close them again. “You’re glowing like a star, witchling,” he rasps out, and I huff out a small chuckle, not quite ready to laugh at his usual quips until I know for sure that he is okay.

“Look down at yourself, princeling,” I murmur. His eyes widen at his own ethereal glow as he lifts his hand and turns it over to observe the effect. He closes his eyes again, slumping from the exertion of raising his arm. Even though I know it will take him more than a few minutes to fully recover, panic rises to my throat, but I push it down. With a deep breath, Thorne’s brows furrow in concentration for a moment before the light making him glow winks out.

“What happened?” he asks, and my heart breaks. I don’t want to recount the last several hours, don’t want to admit I’m the reason his best friends aren’t with us.

“The rebels attacked us at the festival,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“I remember all of that. What happened to make me glow and you shine like a fucking sun?”

Now I can’t help the barking laugh that escapes me. “You passed out from your wounds. I gave us both doses of the thayar concentrate to heal you quickly. I’m not exactly sure how long I’m going to look like this, but it might be awhile…” I trail off.

“Fionn and Silene? Did they…”

“They took them,” I whisper quietly. The memory of our enemies disappearing with our friends makes my heart skip a beat. I continue with steely resolve, no room for argument in my voice, “We’ll get them back.”

“I have no doubt about that, sunbeam,” he says as he stands, keeping his eyes closed to protect them from my burning light. I guide him to sit on the couch, not caring one bit about the mess of the blood that still covers him. “But before we do that, let’s see if we can get that light of yours under control. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, then imagine yourself as a candle or an orb of light. Physically picture the image in your mind.” He waits a few moments before continuing, “You got the mental image?” I nod. “Good, now envision yourself blowing the candle out, or covering the orb with a bowl, whatever makes sense.”

I concentrate on the candle in my mind, then imagine a great wind sweeping through and blowing it out. I slowly open my eyes, and the room has returned to its usual brightness.

“I did it,” I exclaim, and Thorne opens his eyes with a grin.

Admon claps. “Excellent work, Your Majesty. Can you tell me what happened now?” Thorne and I together relay the events to Admon, who furrows his brows. “They knew you were mates? Who else knows?”

“Carex,” Thorne and I snarl together, aether in my voice and another hint of it in Thorne’s, causing Admon to take a step back from the force of our magic-laced words.

“Surely you don’t think he betrayed your secret?” Admon asks. The deep lines of his face pinch together in worry, and his eyes are unseeing as he thinks through all he’s learned.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” I say with a sigh. “But if Nemesia is innocent, then that leaves someone on the Council who knew about me using the plant channelers to help coax the thayar populations. Until I can question him myself, arrest him and keep him in his rooms under guard. I’ve learned a lesson with Nemesia, so I won’t have him sent to the cells without proof, but he will not leave this palace until I know more. Thorne and I are going to go get Fionn and Silene.”

Admon bows. “Of course, I’ll have him detained.” His eyes bore into me, fear written clearly across them. “Be careful, Laurel. I’m not sure we’ve discovered every facet of the situation yet. I fear there’s more to this that we’re not seeing.” I nod curtly, and he turns to leave, Lunaria tracking his every step with the focus of a feline.

“Where do you think they’ve taken them?” Thorne asks, his own worry apparent now that we’re alone. I squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“I recognized several of the fae from a tavern I visited on my way to the Forum meeting. In Echosa. There was open distaste for me when I walked through the tavern as well. They must have a second headquarters there.” Thorne’s eyes light up with knowing.

“The documents we went through in Krantz’s desk mentioned Echosa frequently,” he relays.

“Then let’s go find the Echosan rebel base and get our friends back,” I say with a menacing smile.

“You’re sexy when you’re angry,” he says, the words hollow with our family taken. “But we should wait until the morning.” I start to protest, but Thorne adds, his words firm, “It’s dark outside. I won’t be much use to you until daylight. I want to get them back as desperately as you do. I can barely stand the thought of leaving them there even a minute longer than necessary. But we need to be prepared, especially if it’s just going to be the two of us. Not to mention, I’m still sore from my wounds and you used a lot of magic during that attack. We should rest here for a few hours and let the thayar concentrate fully restore us, then depart as soon as the sun rises.”

Although I want to argue, I know he’s right. Plus, even though my magic is stronger with the concentrate running through my veins, it’s more unpredictable and harder to wield—not a great combination for stealth.

“Fine,” I relent. “But we’re leaving the moment the sun’s on the horizon.” He nods, and I take his hand to lead him to the bathroom. I gently wash the blood from his body, fussing over him as he protests. I wash myself quickly, then we both collapse into bed for a few hours of restless sleep.

“Have you heard of any places the rebels might have gathered? An abandoned manor or other place they might hide?” I ask Mara and her husband early the next morning. When we’d arrived at The Emerald Shell at sunrise, only a single maid had been awake, just beginning her task of cooking breakfast for the overnight guests. She paled when we demanded she wake the owners immediately but did our bidding asking no questions. Though it’s a risk, I trust that Mara and her husband are loyal to the crown and not working with the rebels. It’s early enough that none have come down for breakfast, so we can hopefully slip in and out of Echosa unnoticed. Mara’s husband shakes his head, but Mara looks at me, fear in her eyes. “Mara, if you know where they might be, please, tell me. They have Fionn and Silene, who worked so tirelessly to help build back your family’s bakery in Arberly,” I implore.

“There’s an old house about an hour away, if you’re traveling by foot,” Mara says. “Due north of here, completely isolated. It used to belong to a wealthy family who abandoned it to move to Arberly. My parents were friends with them. I don’t know if there are rebels squatting there, but it’s the only structure I can think of near Echosa that could hold them.”

I take her hands in mine. “Thank you, Mara. I will make sure you’re not connected to this in any way. You have my full protection.”

She nods, and Thorne and I hurry out the back door of the tavern before I aerstep us north as close as we can get without being seen. We walk for about twenty minutes before we spot the old house in the distance, hundreds of makeshift tents surrounding it on all sides. It’s much smaller than the estate in Oakton, probably causing the need for so many tents.

“How’s your magic?” I ask Thorne. “If I aerstep us closer, can you keep us hidden?”

He gives me a cocky grin. “There’s plenty of light, witchling. You get us close, I’ll make sure we aren’t seen.”

I nod, feeling Thorne’s magic wrap around me with a loving caress before I aerstep us several yards closer. We watch in silence as the house wakes up. There’s a clear guard rotation, the morning shift relieving those tasked with keeping watch overnight. Humans emerge from the tents, and I bite back a scoff that the fae get to sleep in the house while the humans are relegated to tents.

“I think we found the right place,” I whisper. Thorne nods. I can still see him using my own magic, though I’m not sure if he can see me. “Am I invisible to you?”

“No,” he murmurs close to my ear. “I can choose how the light bends and make it so that we can see each other even while we remain hidden to others.” His magic finds new ways to impress me every day.

“Let’s walk inside carefully. Take stock of the situation and see if we can find where they’re keeping them before we launch an assault. Follow me.” Slowly, we make our way through the rows of tents, stopping and starting every few steps to avoid crashing into someone. It’s agonizingly slow, and I want to just aerstep us inside the house. But without knowing the layout, the risk that I would drop us right on top of Krantz is too great. When we finally make it to the front door, we pause for a moment to let a human man walk through it before quickly following him, so we don’t have to reopen and close the swinging door. I take a deep breath on the other side, steeling my nerves.

Once inside, the manor buzzes with activity, making it even more difficult to stay unnoticed. Despite being invisible, if someone walks into us, we’ll be just as exposed as if we’d waltzed in. Hugging the walls, we slowly inch down the hallway. Rebels polish weapons and inspect supplies in almost every room. A human woman walks around dishing out porridge from a steaming pot, and young women and females run around gathering laundry and picking up discarded dishes. Of course Krantz would have the same backwards views about females as Mazus .

As we follow a pretty young human woman, no older than twenty-one, carrying laundry, she stops abruptly, and I almost crash into the back of her. A male has walked out of a room ahead of us, and the terror I see on the woman’s face makes me angry on her behalf. She tries to turn, but the male spots her, a menacing smile breaking out across his face.

“Hazel,” he murmurs low as he stalks toward her. I take a few steps back, knowing we should turn and leave but not able to. To his credit, Thorne stays by my side, letting me lead our recon mission.

The woman’s eyes drop to the ground and her shoulders slump. The fae male reaches her, pinning her wrists tightly in his grasp so that she’s forced to drop her laundry. He pushes her against the wall and fondles her breasts. Disgust and shame cross her features, but she does nothing, likely too used to the abuse to stand up for herself. The male unbuttons his pants, and I’ve seen enough. I freeze his limbs and force the air from his lungs. Thorne tenses beside me, knowing we’re about to be discovered and preparing himself for the fight. Hazel’s body is freed, and she stares in shock and fear around her, not understanding what’s caused the fae to halt his assault and go red in the face from lack of air. Instead of screaming for help, she darts away, and I let out a sigh of relief as I allow the male to breathe again, though I don’t release his limbs.

“Nicely done,” Thorne murmurs in my ear, and I can’t stop my jaw from dropping open in shock. I expected him to chastise me, to tell me we don’t have time for this or express disgust that I would take away someone’s agency in this way, but he doesn’t. Instead, he conjures a dagger of light and steps up to the male before slicing him across the throat without hesitation. The male slumps, and Thorne catches his body, angling him so that not a single drop of blood falls to the floor. With strength that makes me weak in the knees, Thorne hauls the man’s body into the room he exited and drops him unceremoniously. Thankfully, it’s an empty laundry room. “Can you lock it with your metal magic?” he asks as he returns to my side. I do as he bids, my body humming in appreciation of Thorne. Something about seeing him so willing to kill, with no hesitation, deepens my feelings for this male. It’s not the violence of it, but rather the knowledge that he can share the burden of the crown with me. For the first time in my entire life, someone killed for me, spared me the act that darkens my soul each time I must do it. “Let’s move quickly, before someone finds him,” is all he says, grabbing my hand and walking us away.

We continue our search, looking through every room on the first floor, finding nothing, before moving to the second and third floors. The upper levels are even more crowded, and it’s slow work, our bodies ducking and pressing against the wall every few minutes to avoid detection. After searching every inch of the manor and finding nothing but rebels, we return to the small laundry room where we stashed the dead male.

“Where are they?” I whisper in frustration, running my hand through my hair. Thorne keeps his cool, thinking through what we might have missed. Something prickles my awareness, like the feeling I get when someone needs to enter or exit Thayaria. But it’s muted, and I can’t quite pinpoint what I’m feeling. I close my eyes and extend my awareness to the mist, but nothing’s out of the ordinary. I shake it away, focusing my attention instead on the mission at hand, though a feeling of dread continues to fill my stomach. “Let’s look again, and this time keep our eyes open for a hidden door or anything we missed,” I offer.

Thorne takes my hand and leads the way out of the room. I lock it behind us again, then we slowly make our way back down the first level hallway. It’s too crowded now, the house filling with more and more rebels. We can’t navigate this, and I’m about to aerstep us out of the house to regroup when I hear a human woman say, “I’ll take this food down to the prisoners.” My eyes dart toward the voice and I see a large guard grunt and pass a tray of water and bread to a human woman with blue eyes and mousy brown hair. She’s curvy, like me.

“I know her,” Thorne whispers quietly in my ear. “She was at the Oakton manor and escorted us to Krantz.”

We follow her closely, surprised when she heads outside. She walks to the back of the manor, to a set of external cellar doors she opens with a grunt before carefully making her way down the steps and into the dark space of the cellar. I can’t believe we didn’t think to check the back of the house. We follow her down the stairs into the cellar, and as soon as we’re fully in shadow Thorne’s magic disappears, though it’s dark enough that I only see a faint outline of him. We’re making hand gestures, trying to align on a plan in silence, when the woman speaks to someone, and we freeze.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

“And why would you do that, you traitorous piece of shit?” Fionn hisses back, and relief washes through me that we found them and that he’s alive.

“Because I stopped believing in the rebel cause after the attack on Arberly,” the woman whispers quietly. “That wasn’t political protest, that was violence against the innocents, motivated only by a desire for power.” I glance at Thorne, who gives me a shrug. We silently decide to stay where we are to see how this situation plays out.

“What’s your plan?” Fionn asks the woman skeptically. “The iron arrow barely scratched me, so I have enough magic that I healed a bit before they locked us back up with iron. But my friend took a direct hit, and she’s unconscious. We need to be aerstepped out. She won’t be able to run.”

Hearing that Silene is gravely injured brings out Thorne’s rash side, and he jumps out of the shadows, wrapping Fionn in a tight embrace. I have no choice but to follow, and my eyes immediately stop on Silene’s too-pale body. She’s chained to the wall with iron shackles and slumps on the ground, the rise and fall of her chest barely visible. She’s not in good shape, and a gentle probe with my magic tells me there’s no chance I’ll be able to heal her here.

“Your-your mm-m-majesty,” Fionn and Silene’s would-be savior mumbles, eyes wide in terror at my sudden appearance. I hold up both of my hands in supplication, praying I can keep her from bolting in fear.

“We’re only here to save our friends. I heard your conversation with Fionn. If you truly wish to help, I’ll take your partnership gladly and will consider you a friend to the crown when this is over.” Hands trembling, she nods, then realizes she should bow, so she attempts a feeble curtsy. I think I see Fionn’s lips twitch.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I’m here to help,” she says, voice feeble.

“What’s your name?”

“Allyssia,” she responds.

“Then, Allyssia, do you have keys to the iron chains? We’ll need to get them out before I can aerstep us away.”

“I don’t have them, but I know where they are.” Fionn rolls his eyes and tries to say something, but I hold up my hand to stop him.

“Take us there. Fionn, we’ll be right back. See if you can at least get Silene to drink some of this water while we’re gone.” Reluctantly, I leave Silene behind as we follow Allyssia out of the cellar. At the top step, I grab her arm to stop her. “He can use light channeling to make us invisible,” I explain, nodding my head toward Thorne. “You should loop your arm through mine to stay close to us.”

Allyssia nods and links her arm through mine. Together, the three of us make our way back into the manor. She leads us up the main staircase to the second floor, then turns right and walks down a long hallway that ends in a locked door Thorne and I had unlocked and relocked earlier. I see her fumbling, likely trying to find her key to the door. I squeeze her arm to signal I can help, then force the metal in the lock to move, squeezing again to tell her she can open the door. Thankfully, she understands, and we quickly sneak into the office.

The room is small, with a too-big desk and several chairs surrounding it. It looks like a meeting ended abruptly and everyone left quickly. There are papers everywhere, and a crate in the corner contains stolen thayar. Thorne releases his magic, and Allyssia goes straight to the desk, searching through each of the drawers frantically.

“I know he keeps the keys in here, I just don’t know exactly where,” she murmurs, and I’m about to step in to help her when she holds up a ring of keys and grins in satisfaction.

“Great work,” I whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”

There’s a noise on the other side of the door, and Thorne’s eyes meet mine quickly before he conceals us again. I reach out and find Allyssia, then pull her to me and try to aerstep us out of the room. But just as the tingling sensation reaches my neck, it fizzles out, like it’s been doused with water. Thorne senses my fear, and our eyes lock. I mouth I can’t aerstep to him, and he slowly guides Allyssia and me to a corner of the room, placing his body in front of ours and conjuring a dagger of light, all while keeping us hidden. I try one more time to aerstep as the door clicks open, and once again am met with resistance.

Krantz walks in, and he looks more unkempt than I’ve ever seen him, even when he was in the palace cells. His eyes are bloodshot, hair greasy. He walks to his desk and sits down, placing his head in his hands and sighing. He stays like that for a few minutes before looking back up and sorting through the papers that litter the top of the desk. I spot a drawer that Allyssia left open and tense, praying he won’t see it. I don’t want to have to fight our way out, not with the shape that Silene is in and whatever is preventing me from aerstepping. Unfortunately, the gods have never answered my pleas.

Krantz notices the open drawer and immediately looks up and scans the room. He walks to the crate of thayar, plucking a stalk out of the box and chewing on it. Then he pulls a small vial out of his pocket and shakes out a few drops of a dark red liquid into his mouth. His pupils dilate, and an eerie wrongness settles over him.

His gaze immediately falls on us, and his lips lift in a menacing smirk. “I thought we might be seeing you today, Queen Laurel.”