Taking a deep breath, I gritted my teeth and reached for the threads of the Brotherhood’s Transference.
Nothing happened.
Alarm ripped through me. Without the Circle, I was too far away to absorb the magic. We had maxed out our abilities. The other four members were just regaining consciousness. Leah hadn’t moved, although two people were trying to wake her. The knot of anxiety in my stomach grew into a bubble of fear.
“The Transference!” I yelled hoarsely. “We can’t stop it without the Circle.”
Casius pushed to his feet and joined Deanna and me, his face haggard. “We need to focus on the people. Dead men can’t conjure.”
It was hard to tell who was conjuring the Transference and who was fighting. Everything was mixed together. “I can absorb their life energy, but I need to be on the ground.”
Deanna and Casius looked at each other in silent communion. “I’m going with you,” she finally said.
Before I could object, she called out six names. Each person stepped forward silently, and I recognized some of the faces from the training sessions. They were capable fighters, good with close combat. We were all exhausted, covered in grime and sweat, but they stood tall as Deanna explained the need to get me closer to the fight. I stood a little straighter, gathering strength from their trust. It was up to me to make sure this wasn’t a suicide mission.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
We skimmed into a field of grain, between the Rakken fighting the Guardians and the group creating the new spell. Everything was chaos, and our arrival went unnoticed as expected. We crept to the edge of the field on all fours over the dry, hard stalks that had been crushed to the ground from the previous season’s harvest. They poked at my skin as I stretched my mind to the Transference and followed the tendrils of magic back to the individual conjurers. Six men stood in a tight knot, connected together by magic. A ring of another half dozen men stood guard, protecting them from physical attack.
I gasped when I spotted Atticus among the guards. A long, jagged line ran down the side of his face. It looked like a cut from a knife—red and puckered—and it was only an inch from his left eye. His magic was a shade of red tinged in black. I stared in horror. Atticus had absorbed energy from someone. What did they make you do?
I had intended to pull the magic from the men fueling the Transference spell, but I needed to avoid grabbing Atticus’s power along with them. Somehow. I’d never tried anything like this. I focused on the others until each person became a small flare of energy in my mind. Taking a deep breath, I focused on the tendrils of magic connecting the men to the Transference.
Not Atticus. Not Atticus. I tried to narrow my focus away from him, then I yanked the magic away.
Screams tore through the air as most of the men around Atticus fell.
The power snapped to me, and I gasped. I tried to release it outward, but the combined weight of so much raw power kicked me in the gut. Panting, I stopped a second before I drained them of everything. I almost blacked out. My whole body convulsed as I gasped.
I forced my eyes open, stared at the unconscious men on the ground, and released my grip on their magic. I wouldn’t kill people if I didn’t have to.
The Transference spell shrank but didn’t disappear. Some of the conjurers were still conscious, and the determined bastards kept working.
A large group of Guardians broke into the field between us and the Brotherhood. Chaos exploded. The Brotherhood scattered, and the Guardians pursued. Trampling, screaming, and fighting surrounded us.
“We need to skim out of here.” Deanna’s eyes scanned in all directions. “It’s too risky on the ground like this. We have to get behind the shield.”
“The Transference is only stalled,” I replied. “I have to finish this before they pick it up again.”
A man crashed through the grain and emerged just to my left. Deanna’s curved scimitar sliced through his neck, splashing hot blood across my face.
Another person appeared. Two from our group lunged at her.
“Wait!” I recognized Tessa a second before she was attacked. Layered with leather armor and weapons, she carried two blades in her hands. Both were bloody. My people pulled up short, their weapons raised, but Deanna shifted her body between Tessa and me.
Tessa lowered her weapons, her eyes locked on my anxious guards. “The Lord Commander requests that you return to the safety of the rooftop.”
I snorted. That didn’t sound like Silas. “What did he actually say?”
Tessa grinned. “There was more swearing. Less asking.”
“That sounds like Silas. I’m almost done stopping the Transference for good.”
“It’s safer on the roof,” she said.
I shook my head. I couldn’t reach the rest of their conjurers from the roof.
“I already tried talking sense into her,” Deanna said, stepping back. And just like that, they were on the same team.
Tessa stepped inside our circle and glanced at the dead man on the ground. “This is not a defensible position,” she said calmly.
She sounded just like Silas. Soon, she would be threatening to throw me over her shoulder and drag me to safety. So I gave her the same response I would have given him. I ignored her.
I closed my eyes and focused. I could feel the Brotherhood’s conjuring as it built again less than fifty yards in front of me. It was slower, but someone was still channeling power into it. I took a deep breath and followed the threads of power back to three men. I couldn’t see them since they were hiding in the field like we were, but I could sense their magic.
Presumably none of them were Atticus. I hoped he’d been able to find a way back to the Guardians, but I wouldn’t take all their magic, just in case. I pulled the energy out of the conjurers and inhaled through my teeth as they fell. I shuddered and folded over myself as I released the dark magic, confident I hadn’t killed anyone.
The fog fizzled and shrank. They didn’t have enough conscious men left to feed it any more power. I couldn’t see Atticus anywhere. I hoped he’d taken the opportunity to escape in the chaos of the battle.
“Done,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Now that the Transference was down and I had drained most of the Brotherhood, the cleanup could be done by the Guardians. My group gathered into a tight knot, ready to skim back to the roof.
I spun back to Tessa. “Is Silas...” I didn’t even know where to start. I wanted to ask if he was okay, if the Council had captured Elias, if his magic would return. I had so many questions. “What happened with Elias?”
Tessa’s nose wrinkled, and her mouth dropped at the corners. “He fled. Along with several Councilors. There will be a lot to figure out after this.”
“How did you know where to find us?” I asked.
“Maeve, you really should return to—”
A voice echoed across the field, amplified by magic. “Maeve O’Neill will surrender, or her people die.”
Titus!
Silently, our group snuck our way back to the edge of the field. Half a football field away, the remainder of the Brotherhood had regrouped around Titus. They faced the town with a new, smaller shield protecting them from the remains of the battle happening at their back.
In front of Titus, a knot of people knelt in the dirt, hands tied behind their backs. My people. They each wore a pendant around their necks that blocked magic. I recognized some of them from the ambush on the roof, including Joseph, the father of three young girls, whose accuracy with the conjured energy had impressed me. My gaze snagged on a familiar face, and my heart stopped.
My father knelt in the dirt next to Titus. Bruises and a nasty split lip disfigured his face. Titus gripped his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. I bit down hard on my knuckles to keep from crying out.
“Come out, kitten,” Titus called. “I have someone who wants to say hello!”
I rose from my crouch. Tessa yanked my arm, pulling me back to the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“That’s my father!” I cursed myself for telling Titus about Father Mike.
At my side, Deanna swore quietly. Each captive had two members of the Brotherhood flanking him—seven captives and fourteen members of the Brotherhood, plus Titus. Even with reduced numbers, they held the upper hand.
I flipped Ripper over in my hand and weighed the odds of stabbing Titus in the face then skimming out with my father. Deanna squeezed my arm.
“I can’t just sit here!” I hissed.
“He’s cornered and gambling on your emotions,” Tessa said.
“He’s going to kill them!”
Deanna looked as ill as I felt. “Michael would not want you to sacrifice yourself for him.”
“One minute left, Maeve!” Titus called out. “Are you really going to let your father die?”
My heart raced in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Every second was an eternity of weighing what I should do. I couldn’t let him kill those people. I had just gotten my father back, and I couldn’t lose him like this.
Tessa dropped her hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. “They have a shield. You’ll never get to him.”
“Maeve, no,” Deanna ordered. “If they get your powers, we’re all dead.”
“Time’s up!” Titus called. He motioned to a group of his men. They dragged four prisoners to the front, and I stared in confusion as Titus moved away from my father.
As I watched in indecision and horror, Titus slit Joseph’s throat then drew the blade across his own palm. Titus’s magic flared. Joseph jerked and twisted silently, his body lit up from the inside. Titus’s battle cry carried across the field as he absorbed the magic. Joseph collapsed to the ground, dead.
Titus’s men slit the throats of three more prisoners in quick succession as I stared, powerless to help. Titus mixed his blood with theirs and stole their magic, and I couldn’t do anything but watch as his aura flared from red to white. He had finally absorbed enough of the powers of my people. He could access Earth’s Source. And now his magic was as powerful as my own.
He turned back toward my father.
Murderous rage pounded through my veins. I would kill Titus. He needed to die. Now.
I opened myself to the source and skimmed straight for Titus. I slammed into the shield surrounding the Brotherhood, but I didn’t even feel the pain of impact. Losing critical seconds, I tore at it with my hands and pulled with my mind, tearing through layers of magic. My screams of rage joined the sounds of battle around us.
Deanna skimmed next to me and pushed her palms into the dome. The threads unraveled twice as fast between us.
Tessa and the rest of our guards arrived at my side. Pressure pulled at my gut as our people skimmed down and joined the battle on the ground. Fury and magic flashed stronger than the clash of steel around us.
I forced the magic of Titus’s shield to bend around my will until an opening ripped through the barrier.
Titus’s eyes and aura overflowed with white power. He bared his teeth at me as he strode forward, his hands shifting into clawed appendages.
“Hold it open!” Deanna yelled. She ducked through the opening and skimmed to my father’s side.
His head jerked up in surprise. “Deanna?” His eyes caught mine. “Maeve!”
A wave of power exploded from Titus. It rode across the open air, a shimmering crest of white energy as destructive as it was beautiful. Everything inside the shield burned in its wake.
It slammed into my father and Deanna.
I screamed.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The shield crumbled under the combined power of my people. Bursts of pressurized magic overlapped until it was impossible to tell each arrival apart from the next. Everyone was on the field. Weapons clashed. Growls and shrieks pierced my ears. Magic flowed around us in a wild riot of power as people and beasts fought.
None of that mattered as I watched my father crumple to the ground.
I ran to his side. His familiar features, lost to my memory for so long, were bruised and misshapen. Slack. The memories of Father Mike, my mentor and friend, and those of my father blurred together—two people who were one. His face was a part of both my lives.
Deanna lay on the ground next to him, clutching his shoulder, her mouth distorted into a grimace. Her easy smile would never grace it again. My father and my aunt were dead.
“No, no, no!” I shook my head furiously. Tears welled in my eyes.
Rage took over. I found Titus standing in the center of the chaos. His head thrust backward, and his eyes closed as his arms rose from his sides. Everyone lay dead around him, while the magic he stole flew to him in a violent maelstrom of power, raising the hairs on my neck and arms.
Titus raised his hands above his head and opened his eyes. An enormous pulse of energy blasted from him upward into the sky.
The strength of it knocked me backward. I stumbled and landed on my butt, gawking at the sky above us. A Transference spell the size of a house shimmered above the death and carnage on the field.
His conjuring was three times bigger than the portals combined. I had never seen anything so massive. The patterns of energy twisted and moved from the outer edges to the inner, circling around the spell’s center point. The power of it rippled in the air, linking Titus and the conjuring in a tapestry of magic threads that shone white with stolen life.
He had the power of my people, and now he would take the life magic from every single person on the field, maybe more.
I scrambled to my hands and knees. Rage and hatred powered me. Titus’s face rose to the sky as he poured more magic into his creation, oblivious to the world around him.
I skimmed and stabbed Ripper between his ribs.
Titus’s eyes flew open. He grabbed both my arms and bared his teeth, digging his clawed hands deep into my flesh.
I screamed and lost my grip on Ripper. The energy around Titus shifted, and his new abilities sucked at my magic, trying to absorb it.
I fought back. The energy crashed between us, pulled by our powers and our wills, while the Transference floundered above. My hair whipped in the wind as we grappled for control. He snarled, the knife still sticking out of his chest. I screamed my rage back.
Magic flared, and Atticus appeared next to us. He thrust his sword straight through Titus’s stomach.
Titus’s eyes flew wide in surprise, and he screamed in agony.
Atticus pulled his sword free.
Blood poured from the wound as Titus released me and grabbed Atticus by the neck. Every cell in Atticus’s body lit up from the inside as Titus ripped the life energy from him.
“Atticus!” I grabbed the hand locked around his neck.
White magic flared around the three of us as Titus and I fought for control of Atticus’s life. Caught between our powers, he became the ultimate fulcrum of our battle. It took all my concentration to protect him as he choked and flailed.
Titus thrust his free hand into the sky, and more energy poured into his super Transference. It flared above us and grew, sucking mine and Atticus’s magic into itself.
Titus laughed, high-pitched and manic.
Atticus gasped against Titus’s grasp. “Close it!”
No. I couldn’t lose focus. I had to keep Atticus alive.
“Maeve,” he said with a choked breath.
The whites of his eyes had burst with red spots. The jagged scar down his face throbbed a bruised purple color.
“Please...” His eyes locked on the super conjuring above us.
It was the worst choice I could make and the only one I had left. Releasing my hold on Atticus’s life was the only way to stop Titus and save everyone. I knew I would never forgive myself as I let go.
Atticus screamed in agony, an involuntary cry of pain that cut straight through my heart before he folded to the ground.
His life energy snapped to Titus.
Titus inhaled through his teeth and closed his eyes. He froze—j
ust as I knew he would—caught in the moment of absorbing Atticus’s magic.
I slammed my palm into Titus’s chest and grabbed the power inside of him. That magic did not belong to him. His eyes bulged, and he screamed, high and curdled. He jerked in my grasp, clawing at my arms and shoulders, but it was too late.
I took it all without mercy. I reclaimed every life he had stolen. I did it for Atticus and Deanna and my father. I did it for all of us.
Titus’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on me. I shuddered as the dark magic coursed through me, and I fell to my knees, holding him in my arms.
When the wave of nausea finally passed, I still burned from the inside out. I pushed Titus’s body away. It tumbled to the ground next to Atticus.
The battle still raged, but the sounds of violence and death barely registered as I stared at Atticus’s lifeless body. I looked at Titus next to him and felt nothing. I was completely numb.
The Transference spell pulled at my magic, drawing my attention upward to the swirling vortex, which had grown big enough that it pulled in the energy all around us. It was self-sustaining, and it would continue to pull in power and grow, consuming all of Earth’s magic energy.
The power of hundreds of stolen lives had been poured into the creation of that Transference spell.
The Fate had said my moments would be full of death. Its saccharine voice filled my mind.
“Fate forged by magic’s light, the Lost Daughter becomes Eternal Might.
Marked twice, where once divided; the Chosen are bound as one, united.”
I was a member of the Lost Sect, a daughter. I held out my bared forearms that were marked twice—once with the symbol of my people and again with Silas’s sigil. We were bound as one and united.
The prophecy was about me. This was my destiny.
The Transference above me threatened everyone I loved and my entire planet. With every life in Earth balanced against my own, the choice was clear. What I was about to do would end me.
I reached toward the source. Without a Circle or an Anchor, I was connected to too much power. A single person couldn’t control the energy contained within the source. It pulsed with the essence of everyone I had lost: Atticus, my parents, Deanna, Marcel. The force of it overtook me, burning through every cell in my body. I became one with the magic, transcending individuality, time, and all the realms within our planet.
Fate Forged Page 35
