Page 114 of The Witch Queen
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. IfeelThorne’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 thatIwas 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. IfeelThorne’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.
