Page 55

Laurel

Very little is understood about blood magic, which leads to the fear surrounding it. Stories would have us believe those who practice it are limitless, their magic restricted only by their own imagination. One of the famous blood mages of our past—known only by the ominous pseudonym Feerdax—is believed to have been able to change his form at will. From young to old, male to female, even fae to animal.

Blood Magic Through the Ages

Thorne tries to keep himself between Krantz and me as protection, but I make a point to step in front of him. A low growl from deep in his chest tells me how he feels about it, but I ignore him.

“How are you able to see through the Prince’s magic? And why couldn’t I aerstep out of here?” I ask Krantz, not really expecting him to answer.

“I told you I had secrets of my own, witch .” The aether rolls through his body in a chaotic wave. He’s like a magnet for all the aether around us, sucking the room dry of the magical current somehow. I feel Thorne’s magic also being drained, so I put up the strongest light shield I can manage. It stops the draining, and Krantz snarls.

“INTRUDERS,” he bellows, and I don’t waste another minute. I grab Thorne and Allyssia’s hands and make a run for it. This time, I let Thorne lead the way, and he slices through every single rebel who tries to stop us with ease. Once we’ve made it down the hallway and to the first floor, I grab Thorne and Allyssia and attempt to aerstep again. This time, it works, and we emerge on the lawn in front of the cellar, and I re-conjure my shield.

The rebels aren’t far behind, pouring out of the house. Krantz and at least six dozen fae fighters run toward us, weapons and magic flying. Thorne takes over shielding, giving me time to evaluate the situation. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I concentrate on the currents of aether flowing around us. It gathers together in crimson pools, sparkling brightly where each fae stands. Where Krantz stands, the aether has turned so deep red it’s almost black, and all the red mist around him is being sucked into his orbit. I will the aether to halt, then open my eyes.

I’ve successfully frozen all the rebels, with the exception of Krantz. Whatever he consumed, it prevents me from controlling him. He looks around at the immobilized rebel army and grins wide.

“What was it you once said to me? Something about trying the same trick twice?” he sneers before sending dozens of swords hurtling into our trio. Thorne reacts instantly, blocking them with his light shield and bringing about half down to the ground. I obliterate the other half, but it pulls my concentration from stopping the flow of aether in the other rebels. They resume their advance toward us. Allyssia whimpers with fear.

“You focus on Krantz,” Thorne commands, “I’ll take on the rest of them.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, concern evident in my voice.

“Doubting my abilities, witchling?” Thorne asks with a mock shake of his head. Even in the throes of battle, he finds a way to be cocky. I roll my eyes.

“Fine. Allyssia, get back into the cellar, and work on getting Fionn and Silene free. I’ll provide cover. Free them both, send Fionn to me, then stay down there with Silene. The sooner Fionn is fighting with us, the sooner we can get out of here.” The woman looks terrified, but nods. “I’ll come get you when it’s safe. On my count. Three, two, one, go!”

She races away from us, back to the cellar, and I break away from Thorne to shield her with light. A few rebels try to hurl magic into her, mostly spears of water, but the light protects her from their blows. I’m impressed that she doesn’t falter, just keeps running even as magic darts her way. Once she’s down the steps, I plant myself in front of the cellar doors, forming an imaginary line the rebels will not cross with my friends vulnerable behind me.

Quickly scanning the field for Thorne, I find him grinning wide as he slashes through three rebels with a light sword. None can break his impenetrable shield, even as they try running into it six males at a time. Sometimes I forget how powerful he really is. He’ll be fine .

Krantz stalks my way, daggers and swords rotating around him in a swirling orb that acts like a shield. By now I’ve figured out that he’s a dual channeler—metal and air, a rare combination—and I regret not looking into his family history. Most dual channelers descend from powerful families, but Krantz seems to have come from nowhere.

“I’m not letting you leave here alive, witch,” he snarls, and I nearly laugh aloud at the hubris a little potion has given him. I can’t halt him or will him out of existence with the magic protecting him, but I can still do quite a bit of damage, especially with traces of the thayar concentrate still coursing through my veins. But I won’t lose myself to rage this time like I did last night when Thorne was injured. Despite centuries of training and practicing control, everything I’d learned left my consciousness when I’d scented his blood tinged with iron in the clearing. The mating bond had blinded me, and I vow to keep my cool today and make smart decisions about my magic.

I conjure a sword of light in one hand and a dagger in the other, then advance toward Krantz, keeping my awareness on that cellar door. For good measure, I will a barrier of light, water, and wind to form just before the doors for an added layer of protection.

“How would killing me help your cause, Krantz?” I yell over the sounds of Thorne battling others around me. “I thought the Sons and Daughters wanted the mist barrier removed. I have to be alive to do that.”

“What we tell the masses and what we really want are two different things. Surely you know that better than anyone,” he says as he lunges toward me with his own sword. I deflect the blow, parrying with my own sword that he blocks with a strong current of air.

We circle one another.

“What is it you actually want, Krantz? Me dead, got it. But after that? You’ll still be stuck in Thayaria with a barrier of mist around it and no way in or out.” I take control of several of the weapons that circle him and shoot them down toward his body. He diverts all but one with his magic, but one is all I need to slice a deep gash across his upper left thigh. He doesn’t even react.

“Power,” he growls, then charges forward. I wait until the last millisecond before stepping out of the way, slicing through his back as I pivot. He snarls, whipping around quickly. Both his thigh and back have already healed thanks to the supercharged fae abilities combined with the thayar flower and whatever was in that vial. “If you’re gone, with no heir to replace you, I’ll take over Thayaria with the help of some friends. Of course, I’ll make it look like a democratic election, make the people think we’re following in the footsteps of Reshnar.”

I engage him in an easy back-and-forth parry, blocking his blows with little effort. I’m a better fighter than him, but his quick recovery time makes it challenging to get any kind of upper hand. We trade blows while I evaluate what to do next, keeping him engaged in conversation so he doesn’t turn his sights elsewhere. All the while, I maintain a strong shield in front of the cellar doors and around myself.

“Is that all? Power?” I let the disappointment and sarcasm ring out in my voice as I block another blow and slice him with a beam of light. “Here I thought you were truly an interesting and worthy opponent. Instead, you’re nothing but a backwoods magic user trying to be more than he is.” Krantz growls, and I’ve clearly struck a nerve, so I keep pressing. “What, did the kids at school not like you very much? Did the females not fall over themselves in awe at your dual conduit affinity?” The ferocity of his blows increase, and now the tables have turned. Last night, he got under my skin, but tonight, I’m coming for him. Miniscule orbs of light rush him, too many for him to block them all, and his body is covered in tiny cuts when they reach him. He falters, and I slice the backs of his knees with ice as I deliver the final, stinging verbal blow. “Poor, sad Krantz. The male who had to start a rebellion just to stroke his own ego.”

He hisses at me from the ground, still healing, and I can only laugh. All this time, I worried about taking the leaders of the rebellion out, worried that I was the real villain in the story. But all along, Krantz was an ego-bruised male playing insurgent to make him feel better about his lot in life. I stalk toward him, ready to take him out, but he recovers, launching into his own offensive again. It takes me by surprise, and he slices my arm. I feel Thorne’s growl from across the yard, but I trust him to stay focused on his own task. With barely a thought, I’m healed.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, Krantz,” I hiss as we trade blows with our metal weapons again. “Those who play the game only for the satisfaction of winning it almost always lose. You need real motivation, not just a hollow drive to escalate your own status. Even now, seeds of disquiet are building inside your movement. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Not everyone will follow you blindly as you slaughter innocents. Not to mention, a kingdom that’s stuck behind a wall of mist with no way to export or import goods won’t survive for very long.” He’s too winded from the fight to react, though I’m barely out of breath thanks to Thorne’s incessant training. I search my awareness to find Thorne through the mating bond, checking in that he’s okay.

He’s singled-handedly reduced the number of rebels down to only three dozen, but that second sense I have for him tells me he’s tiring. A wave of his scent washes over me, his blood dripping from a small nick the male he’s currently sparring with delivered. I snarl involuntarily, and the distraction costs me. Krantz gets in a blow with the back of a sword to my stomach, knocking my breath from me. He slices my thigh before I can shield again, and Thorne’s own snarl sounds as the scent of my blood reaches him.

I jump up, hissing at the pain in my leg, even as it stitches back together. I will the smallest bit of light to heal it. Then I take a deep breath, calming my mind and taming the wild beast within that roars at me to go to Thorne. Spears of light fly at Krantz, this time from Thorne, and Krantz drops his weapons to dodge the blows. I give Thorne a look that tells him to focus, and he only winks at me before spinning and slicing the hand off an attacker, just before their sword reached him. I’m forced to return my attention to Krantz, even though I could watch the effortless way Thorne fights all day long.

Frustration and anger are written clearly across Krantz’s expression while he tries and fails to get through my shield. He bares his teeth and hisses, then turns his back on me and aersteps to Thorne, catching him off guard and burying a dagger in his gut. Thorne falters, his hand coming to cover his stomach as he drops to the ground. I don’t think Krantz has been using an iron blade, or the small knicks he’s got in on me would have nullified my magic, but the uncertainty makes me panic.

“I tell you repeatedly that I have secrets, witch, and you continue to underestimate me,” Krantz says coolly while he keeps a hand on Thorne’s nape. “If I take you out, let’s just say I have a plan for keeping Thayaria together. It will thrive without you.” Krantz smiles from across the yard, raising his sword and slicing Thorne on the thigh, right where the iron arrow hit him. Thorne winces in pain, and I scream my rage, but mine is not the only scream I hear. Fionn has arrived, and he’s all lethal warrior as he surveys the scene. I aerstep him to my side, never taking my eyes from Krantz.

“Let’s take this bastard down, queenie,” he roars, and I nod. Thorne has put up a shield to protect himself and stands, but Krantz and the remaining rebel fighters are pummeling him with magic and blades. Krantz’s strategy is clearly to target Thorne to get under my skin and force me to lose myself again, but I push down the urge, keeping a tight fist around the mating bond and its demands.

Fionn grunts, and at least half of the remaining weapons in the field have flown hundreds of yards away. What remains are now pointed directly at Krantz, who laughs.

That feeling of wrongness surrounds me again, and with Fionn at my side, I feel confident enough to close my eyes once more. The churning black mass around Krantz has grown, and red currents of aether flow into him faster than before. Thorne is particularly impacted, the aether that courses through him dimmed significantly. Fionn is also being drained. I have to find a way to stop Krantz, have to find a way to keep him from bleeding my mate and my friend dry of their aether-force.

When I open my eyes, Thorne has dropped to the ground again, and his shield dims. Fionn’s brow is damp with sweat. Krantz’s magic is affecting them .

“I need to keep my eyes closed so I can focus on Krantz,” I tell Fionn. “Can you cover me and keep Thorne protected for a little longer?”

Fionn clearly doesn’t understand my request, giving me a strange look, but he agrees anyway. “I got this.”

I close my eyes again and focus on the swirling black mass around Krantz. It’s made of aether but has been corrupted. I attempt pulling it away from him, willing the aether to bend toward me, but it resists. As I pull, it only gives slightly, like a jammed door or a stuck lever. The effort makes me lightheaded. It won’t budge, and I huff out my frustration, trying to focus through the dizziness that overtakes me.

I open my eyes again, and returning to the world of sight helps steady me. Once corrupted, it appears it stays under his command. I don’t want to think about the implications of that for Fionn and Thorne, whose aether still flows into Krantz in red streams, or for the magic of Thayaria. I have to stop it from reaching him in the first place. I close my eyes again.

Instead of pulling the aether to me, I attempt sending my own pure aether into the mass surrounding him. I worry it will just make him more powerful, but I have to try something, so I keep a firm lock on the pathway that connects me to the current of aether around me to ensure he only gets the small amount I’m willing to give him. The bright crimson of my aether moves toward the maroon-black mass where he stands. When the streams collide, red appears to battle back the black, and the mass surrounding Krantz is encircled with a red glow. The aether I sent into him is absorbed back into the ground, not corrupted.

I sigh. Of course the only way to stop him would be to do the one thing I’ve spent decades avoiding. I do one more test, this time with a larger amount of aether. Once again, red and black fight for dominance, and as my crimson stream wins and returns to the ground, Krantz’s unseemly swirling mass actually shrinks.

Encouraged, I take a deep breath and center myself, letting the feel of my feet on the ground steady me for what I’m about to do. Then I outstretch my arms, palms facing down, and pull massive amounts of aether from the closest leylines and direct them into Krantz. A tidal wave of scarlet crashes into him, and even though I can’t see him, I can tell he falls to the ground at the onslaught. The black mass circling him dissipates, lightening to red, before also flowing back into the world around us. He’s still pulling from everyone around him, but it’s at a much slower rate.

I do it again, and this time I hold nothing back. I’ve never tested the limits of how much aether can flow through me, but today I’ll find out. With a cry to the sky, I fully open that mental valve that has always kept the aether flowing into me at a trickle, allowing myself to become the conduit through which the aether flows. The second it slams into me, I gasp. I collapse to the ground as the aether threatens to consume me. The torrent is overwhelming, hard to redirect, but with another infernal cry, I coax it into Krantz, drowning the black mass until nothing but the usual glow of red surrounds him. Then I grit my teeth and close off my access to the aether once more, my body trembling with the effort. I lie there on the ground, eyes closed, too shaky to stand. It takes me several minutes of deep breathing to recover, and I’m grateful Thorne and Fionn have the fight so firmly under control, or I might not have been afforded the luxury of laying still for so long.

Finally, I open my eyes and stand, and the cacophony of the battle slams into me all at once. Fionn has left my side and is fighting Krantz hand to hand a few paces ahead of me. Krantz seems frantic to get to me, eyes wild and more animal than fae.

“Bitch,” Krantz spits. He knows what I’ve done to his magic. Fionn sends a dagger flying into Krantz’s gut, and blood pools out of him, the smell foul despite the disappearance of his vile magic. I wrap his arms in cords of light, bringing him to his knees. He struggles against the bindings, but without his secret magic, he’s no match for me.

“Go help Thorne,” I order Fionn, who immediately follows my command. They take out the remaining dozen rebel soldiers together with ease.

“It’s over Krantz,” I tell him, and he spits at my feet. I sigh loudly, then check my nails. “You have two options. I can kill you slowly, torture you with water and plants in your lungs—it’s a specialty of mine—before I force the information from you anyway with the aether-voice.” I give him a wink. “Or, I can kill you quickly, which I’ll only do if you tell me who on my Council you’re working with. Your choice.”

“I won’t tell you anything,” he growls, and I shrug.

“Not the choice I would have made, but I did give you the option,” I say before ripping the air from his lungs. At the same time, I will the grass under him to lengthen and wrap up and around his body, squeezing tightly. I leave him like this until his eyes water, then release the air back into his lungs. He heaves in a breath as he gives me a look filled with hatred. I only smirk before sending grass up his nose and water down his throat. I pick up a dagger from the ground with my magic, using it to make small slices over his arms and face. Tears stream down his cheeks. “Because I’m such a benevolent Queen, I’ll give you a chance to change your mind,” I coo, pulling all my magic back.

“The one. You least. Expect,” Krantz says between gasps for air.

“Be more specific,” I order, bringing an orb of water to his face in threat.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he hisses. Then, before I can stop him, he uses the last dregs of his magic to pull the dagger I was using to him, slicing his throat before slumping to the ground with a gurgling noise. I sigh in frustration, then use my power to stop his heart, if only to spare myself from listening to him slowly die.

“Laurel,” Thorne says, and I freeze. Panic washes over me, fear that Thorne will only see a monster when he looks at me now. He’s seen me kill, but I’ve been brutal the last two days.

“Thorne,” I say, “I can explain…” He just wraps me in his arms, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss that tells me how relieved he is that I’m okay, that we both made it through this fight relatively unscathed. Releasing me from his lips, but keeping me pinned to his chest, he stares down at me, and pure, male lust fills his eyes.

“Aethers, you’re so fucking hot when you go all evil Witch Queen,” he whispers, and both of my hearts practically explode with emotion for this male, finally believing the words he whispered to me in the dark only two nights ago.

Allyssia stayed by Silene’s side during the fight, getting her free of the iron and even forcing some water into her unconscious body. I do what I can to heal the infection that’s started spreading from the wound, but it’s not enough, not without thayar concentrate and the shakiness I still feel from my battle with Krantz. Some of the color has returned to her face, but we need to get her to a healer.

“Would you like to come back with us, Allyssia?” I ask. “My earlier promise still stands. You’ve helped my friends and stood up to the rebels when it mattered most. Any past crimes are forgotten.” She blushes, then curtsies, a bit more coordinated this time.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she says. “I would like to go back to Arberly. But—I—”

“What is it?” I ask, gently.

“I don’t have any family, friends, or anyone else to take me in,” she says, eyes lowered in shame. “I’ve lived with the rebels my entire life. I… I might need a place to stay for a few days until I can figure out what to do.” A small tear runs down her cheek, but she wipes it away quickly. I think I see Fionn stiffen beside me.

“We’ll find you rooms in the palace. You can stay as long as you need,” I promise, and that sends her over the edge, sobs erupting out of her. I freeze, unsure what to do and uncomfortable with the emotions of others, but Fionn steps to her and wraps his massive arm around her shoulders, walking her a few paces away.

Shock must show on my face, for Thorne laughs and says, “Underneath that massive frame is a heart of gold.”

I nod as I survey the house and all the gore around us. Most of the rebels at the manor either died or fled. The only people remaining are children and those forced here either by a family member or their own desperation. Thorne took over communicating with them, seeing the way I slumped after the battle and knowing I needed him. He told them that if they abandoned the rebels, there would be no punishment for them, and his words felt right. We still need to hunt down those who escaped who are complicit, but we can deal with that another day.

“Krantz said the mole is the person I least expect,” I whisper to Thorne, unable to keep my worries hidden from him any longer.

“What do you think that means? Could it be Nemesia, after all?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I’ve made so many missteps in judgment, I don’t know what to think.” He threads his fingers in mine.

“We’ll figure it out together,” he says, eyes bright. I place a soft kiss on his lips before he gives me another tight hug and places his chin on the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispers as he rubs soothing circles on my back. I want to say it back, want to aerstep us to a private corner of the woods and show him how much he means to me as I finally whisper the words that have been on the tip of my tongue for weeks, well before he admitted his own feelings to me. But Silene still lies unconscious before us, and we need to get her to safety. There will be time now that we’ve cut off the head of the rebels. Plenty of time for me to tell Thorne how I feel and show him he’s well and truly mine . I give him one last squeeze before releasing him.

“Let’s go,” I say loudly enough for Fionn to hear me. Thorne lifts Silene’s body gently from the ground, then nods at me. Fionn and Allyssia return to our side, and I aerstep us back to the palace.