Chapter 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Twelve humans. That’s how many Blake had brought with him, and ordinarily I would have laughed at the idea that they could take on an entire room full of Idrians. But out of the fifty or so attendees, only two had shaken off the effects of Blake’s attack enough to even defend themselves.

Rath was the first to rise, and he instantly produced a glowing blue shield composed of pure magic. Not a moment too soon, because the humans closest to us fired off blasts of air magic that would have knocked us right off our feet.

A few paces away, Yolande struggled to stand, then let out an enraged roar as she shifted. Her dress tore, and the bear that replaced her would have made most humans pee themselves in terror. Five feet at the shoulder, covered in dense black fur and armored with pure muscle. She swayed a bit on enormous paws, each one tipped with claws that probably could have disemboweled a T-Rex.

One of the humans shot her with a dart gun, but the bear didn’t even seem to notice, only roared again and charged the three humans closest to her.

The shooter tripped into a table, sending silver and crystal flying along with the remains of someone’s dessert. But one of the other humans reached beneath the collar of her white shirt, and I watched in horror as she pulled out a large, faceted gem.

Just like the one Elayara used to wear.

There was no knowing how much magic was contained in one of those gems, or even how many kinds. The fae queen’s had seemed limitless in its capabilities. But as the human let loose a blast of water magic at Yolande and missed, I finally recognized that not all of the advantages were on their side.

Blake might have more people than we did, but he’d armed them with powers they didn’t understand. There had been no time to teach them control, and, just as importantly, their source of power was finite.

If we could force them to exhaust their resources, they would have no choice but to retreat.

“Make them miss,” I hissed at Rath, and saw the moment he understood my strategy. With a wild, feral grin, he leaped onto a tabletop, swiped a silver butter knife, and took off.

I could only hope he would be wise enough to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. We would have no way to explain human deaths, and a mass murder by Idrian leaders would be the quickest and ugliest imaginable path to war.

Another roar from Yolande was followed by a crash as a second table went down. The longer this battle continued, the greater the danger that either one of the humans or one of the Idrian delegates would die. I had to stop it. Without killing anyone.

From behind me, I heard an unearthly scream and whipped around, my heart thudding with adrenaline as I prayed desperately that everyone was still alive. That even Blake would hesitate to commit outright murder…

But what I saw did nothing to quell my fears. Callum was being stalked by a creature out of the most fantastical human legends—an enormous golden gryphon that leaped from table to table, tail lashing the air in the thrill of the hunt. But rather than displaying a healthy degree of caution, Callum turned to meet it without a trace of fear, dodging its first leap and hammering a punch into the base of its wing that drew a yowl of pain and a flash of a taloned paw.

Callum evaded the worst of it, but I could see blood on his sleeve where those claws had marked him. How could he possibly defeat such an enemy without shifting? It was many times his size, with wings and talons and a wickedly sharp beak.

If it caught him…

“It doesn’t have to be this way, Raine.” Blake spoke up from behind me, his voice a soothing tenor that rang with gentle disappointment. “I truly don’t want to hurt anyone. I’ve instructed my people to use non-lethal magic whenever possible. But if you insist on reacting with violence, I will have no choice but to cut my losses.”

Cut his losses? He’d already proven he had no qualms about sacrificing his pawns, so I doubted he was talking about his own people. He was talking about the Idrians he intended to kidnap.

“If you refuse to aid me—if you make it too difficult for me to leave in peace—I will not hesitate to kill those in this room to prevent them from attacking my operations in the future.” Somehow, he still sounded utterly calm and reasonable. “The human authorities are already primed to believe that this Symposium might well end in violence, so it will come as no surprise that the Idrian courts attacked one another, resulting in a tragic loss of life.”

Oh, that utter bastard. He’d been the one to alert the human media—planning ahead in order to cover his tracks. The outcome of this battle didn’t matter to him. Whether his people won or lost, he still came out ahead.

Maybe Draven had been right—maybe I wasn’t truly a killer. But Blake Masterson was a monster, and I knew right then and there that I would not shed a single tear over his death.

I heard a choked off scream from Yolande’s side of the room—one of the humans had gotten too close—and I doubted she was in any state to remember that we needed not to kill anyone.

This had to end now. I had to stop Blake, but how ?

Callum couldn’t shift. He might technically fit in this space, but he would trample everyone who was still unable to move, and if he tried to spread his wings or breathe fire, it could easily bring down the entire building.

Rath and Yolande were holding their own, but Rath was hampered by the need to use non-lethal force, and Yolande was a wrecking ball of pure power and rage.

So it was up to me. Up to me and the magic I’d tried so hard to reject.

But which form? I knew the least about my shapeshifting, and I could not imagine any way that a tiny white fox could contribute to this fight. I didn’t know much about my siren powers either, and while they seemed best suited to a non-violent approach, I wasn’t confident enough that they would actually work.

But my fae magic still hummed where it rested somewhere deep in my chest, and the water sang to me of both power and peace.

What if… What if I could somehow use both?

I tugged and felt a surge of adrenaline as my fae magic flowed to my fingertips. Ready and waiting for my command.

Then I shut my eyes and reached out for the wall fountain at the side of the room.

Behind my closed eyes, it overflowed with color, so I took that flow and pulled it towards me. Shaped it and hardened it into a glittering spike of ice that flashed with iridescence as I coaxed it across the room, fighting to balance the competing demands of juggling two magics at once.

I could still sense the chaos around me, but it was muted, and the moment my eyes opened, my focus narrowed on Blake, who was watching me with the beginnings of mild concern.

“Raine, what are you doing?”

I didn’t answer. My teeth were too tightly clenched as I grasped those very different threads of power and tried to force them to do my bidding. Tried to forget the day I’d sworn never to use my magic again…

It had been so long since I first renounced my power—since that moment in the caves when I’d first taken a life. They’d been hunting me for hours. Trying to provoke me. Testing the limits of the magic they’d forced into my body.

I couldn’t use glamour, but I could silence my footfalls and shield myself from their magic. Pick their locks and steal their supplies. Create darkness or light and use it to my advantage.

That day I’d been hungry, desperate, and surrounded. Bleeding from a dozen cuts. And when they forced me to fight, I’d made a blade of magic and lashed out. It had happened so quickly, none of them had time to react. My tormentor had fallen, stabbed through the heart, and the test was finally over.

I’d given them what they wanted, but I hadn’t missed the aura of fear that clung to the others as they dragged me back to my prison. I’d become a killer and made myself a threat all at the same time, and I’d decided then and there that I would not use my magic again. No matter how much they provoked me.

Only a few days ago, I thought I’d come to terms with the necessity of learning to use this power. Of allowing myself to embrace it for the sake of protecting others. But what if I lost control again? What if I took another life and became the cause of a war that would take thousands more and destroy the fragile peace between human and Idrian?

“Raine, I hold your friends’ lives in my hands,” Blake reminded me, a note of warning in his tone. “And as I told you, I will happily cut my losses. Everyone in this room can die, and it will make no difference to my future plans.”

It was true. But it also reminded me of another truth.

This was not my doing. I did not start this fight. And if there was a war, it would not be because of anything I’d done.

But if I chose not to act, the ugly cycle of power and control would simply continue. I had a chance to stop it, but it would only be possible if I stopped holding back. Stopped blaming myself. Stopped fearing what I could become.

I was not a killer. But I was a protector, and I would be damned before I let Blake hurt anyone else I cared about.

My hands came together, and what they shaped looked a lot like a sword. Formed of power and ice, it glowed blue and hummed a peculiar note that resonated with the feeling of violence.

I held it before me and took a step towards Blake. Then another, stepping over and around the prone bodies on the floor.

“I know what you’re willing to sacrifice, Blake.” I said it as loudly as I could, hoping that everyone in the room could hear me. “I know you had two of your own people murdered just to cover up the truth of what you were doing.”

I was counting on Blake’s followers having no idea what a monster he truly was. If he’d recruited them using the same methods he’d used on me, he’d promised them a home. A family. All the power they could ever want. They had no idea they were disposable.

“And I bet you came here today knowing that very few of you would be going home. But what does it matter? You can always find more humans desperate for power.”

The sword hummed louder, and I watched Blake’s eyes widen as he realized what I’d done.

He reached for his neck and pulled out another gem. Another vessel of unknown powers, and a symbol of untold suffering.

His first attack was with fae magic. But he hadn’t been trained in the same harsh school, and his attempt fizzled and died against the blade of my sword. Fae magic could only best its own kind if it was stronger, and Blake had concentrated his efforts in other areas. He was a master manipulator and could spin a plot out of thin air, but he hadn’t survived the caves.

His second attack was with fire. Fae magic was known to be weak against fire, but the flames dissipated almost immediately when they encountered the icy blade of my weapon.

I smiled and took two more steps towards him, praying that Callum and Rath and Yolande could hold on.

“You might have more magic,” I taunted him, “but you have no discipline. You’re nothing without your minions, and you treat them as disposable. What are you going to do when they realize they’re just a means to an end?”

Blake’s forehead creased, his fist clenched, and I braced myself for whatever he might try next…

Directly in front of me, the floor heaved and buckled, shattering the tile. Beneath the bare, concrete bones, red dirt swelled, then split to reveal massive roots, growing and climbing and reaching as they crawled towards me. Dryad magic.

“Raine!” That was Callum’s voice. He sounded afraid, but somehow I knew that his fear was not for himself—it was for me, so I did not turn around.

There was a resounding crash from my left side as someone flew into a window, followed by a snarl from Yolande. She and Rath were both still fighting, so I planted my feet and stabbed my weapon deep into the ground. It sheared through the floor, through the concrete, through everything, and then I poured more power into the blade, sending veins of glowing ice shooting outward into the earth.

I could have sworn the roots screamed. Shriveled. Recoiled. Seared by the bitterly cold bite of wintry ice infused with burning fae magic.

And for the first time, Blake’s expression suggested the beginnings of caution—possibly even a hint of fear.

“You’re meddling with forces you cannot possibly understand or control,” he insisted harshly. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to kill the very people you’re trying so hard to protect. And have you forgotten what these same people will do to you after you’ve risked everything to save them? They’ve made you a criminal. And I can promise you they won’t hesitate to punish you for this very magic you’ve used to save their lives.”

I laughed in his face. “You think this is news to me? Blake, I can’t choose their actions any more than I can change yours. I can’t force them to accept me, and I can’t make them acknowledge where they might have been wrong. But that doesn’t mean I get a free pass. I have to choose what I’m willing to live with, and right now, I’m not willing to stand aside and let you continue the cycle of cruelty and oppression.”

I heard a cry from my right, and it wasn’t Yolande. One of the humans was screaming for help, and I saw Blake’s gaze dart to the side. He lifted the gem, curled his fingers around it, then took a step back as the air behind him began to shimmer with color.

“Retreat!” he called out, and I yanked my blade from the ground in preparation to defend myself. Whatever this new magic was, I’d never seen it before, but I knew there was no exit directly behind him. He was going to have to go through me, and there was no way I would allow him to leave so easily.

Around me, the sounds of battle redoubled, and I risked a glance to either side. Rath was a whirlwind of flashing cutlery, dodging blasts of air magic from a sneering man in black, while a limping wolf began to drag itself towards Blake. A third human was down, with a fork protruding from a bleeding wound in her side, while a fourth huddled on the ground, his form flickering back and forth from human to glowing, blue-skinned pixie.

Yolande was favoring her right front leg and her fur on one side was smoking, but she was still snarling at the heels of a pair of her attackers as they retreated. Three more lay on the ground, and I couldn’t tell whether any of those were alive.

And Callum? He was battered and bleeding, but the gryphon was on three legs, pouring blood from a head wound, while one of its wings hung broken and useless. It tried to break away and limp towards Blake, but Callum had a death grip on its second wing. As I watched, he hammered a kick into its hip, and it collapsed with a piercing squall of pain.

We might actually have a chance at winning. And if I could only keep Blake from leaving, there was still hope of preventing a war. Still hope that he would never be able to implement his vile plan to continue what the fae queen had begun.

I turned back to face him—prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep him there—and found him watching me with a peculiarly peaceful expression.

“I could still win, you know.” He held up the gem, still clutched between his fingers as the strange, shimmering circle in the air behind him continued to grow. “What I have here could end every life in this room with very little effort. But I fear it might end up taking mine as well, and that I cannot risk.”

He smiled, just as the doors behind me flew off their hinges.

The ground heaved, and I heard a sound like a thousand boulders landing on the roof…

I didn’t even need to turn around to know that Faris had finally arrived.

And Blake was trapped.

“Just stop all this,” I pleaded with him. “I know it’s not going to be easy to rebuild our lives after what we went through, but what we suffered doesn’t have to be the end. We don’t have to hurt anyone else just to feel less alone with our pain.”

His people were no longer retreating. The gryphon lay on the floor, unmoving. Three others had sunk into the floor up to their knees—trapped there by Faris’s earth magic.

Blake was alone, but for some reason, he was still smiling. “I think,” he said calmly, “that this chaos will do well enough for today. The dragon has been thoroughly discredited by allowing the security of the Symposium to be breached. The courts will never agree to trust one another, even if their delegates survive, and enough human blood has been spilled that you will struggle to prevent the human authorities from finding out… particularly after I call to share my concerns.”

I didn’t know how he thought he was going to do that—not with a bear, a fae prince, a pissed off dragon, and a raging earth elemental standing between him and freedom.

He took a step backward, towards that strange floating circle that looked like a bruise hanging in the air.

“Stop him!” Faris roared, but it was too late.

Blake took another step back, then another, then stepped right into the circle of swirling color… and disappeared.