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Betrayed: Magi Rising Book 1

Page 17

by Wagner, Raye


  “No!” Zerôn screamed.

  I turned my back on Bîcav, still mentally screaming at him to follow Rünê, and watched as Zerôn rolled my sister’s body over.

  Dark crimson blood pooled beneath her, and Zerôn yanked the blade from her neck with a string of expletives.

  “You cannot die now,” he snarled. “I’ll not allow it.”

  My body and mind reeled. After so much intentional death, I couldn’t seem to process that Zerôn didn’t want Zîyanâ to die. Why? He obviously didn’t love her.

  He knelt over her, placed his hands on her chest, and the air charged.

  He always heals her, Basvîk said in my mind. After he beats her, he always heals her.

  “Why?” I exhaled the question and scanned the room for the answer.

  “He steals my magîk,” said Zîyanâ—or rather her soul.

  I flinched, and the semi-transparent form seemed to solidify by my side. She was stunning. Just like with Rünê, all the blood and gore was gone, only with Zîyanâ the fear and haunted look in her eyes was replaced with a wary regard of her bondmate. “All of his perversions here drain his magîk, but as his bondmate, he can receive aid from me.”

  “You give him your magîk?” I asked. The very idea that she would give him anything… “Or do you mean he takes it?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zerôn embrace Zîyanâ’s body, and my attention was pulled to witness his mourning. Only, instead of a hug, the kümdâr shook his bondmate and yelled in her face, “Wake up, Zîyanâ!”

  “He siphons my energy, not my magîk. By stealing my power, he’s able to heal himself… and his experiments.”

  I couldn’t fathom how she’d endured—

  Can you help her? Basvîk asked. Can you put her back?

  “What does Basvîk know?” I whispered, somehow knowing she’d hear me over the kümdâr’s screams.

  “I told him what you said, even though I didn’t believe it myself. I didn’t remember what happened when I was outside my body, but he… he believed it.”

  “He wants you to come back,” I told her. But the very thought of putting her back inside her body to be used by Zerôn made me hesitate. Finally, I pushed out the words. “Do you want to come back again?”

  “No,” she said, her brow furrowing. “Didn’t you see?” She faced me and waved toward Zerôn and her corpse. “He healed my body, like he always does. I can’t even tell you how many times he’s hurt me; I’ve lost count. But making my body whole doesn’t make me forget the pain he inflicts, which, incidentally, he doesn’t want me to forget.” She tilted her head and pursed her lips before adding, “He’s left a million scars on my body to remind me that he’s the one with power—that he has control. Why would anyone want to go back to that?”

  I couldn’t argue with her logic.

  Please? Basvîk begged, talking over the top of my sister’s soul. Even in my mind, his voice broke with anguish. If she’s dead, please put her back. I know you can.

  “What about Basvîk?” I asked. “Why does he want you back?”

  She frowned, her gaze shifted to him, and her eyes filled with pity. “He became my solace. In the very darkest of times, he gave me a taste of what life might’ve been like.”

  Zerôn bellowed, and her form wavered. Time was ebbing away… and then… she would be born into another body.

  Rot.

  “What if we hid you?” I asked, my mind racing as I snatched her arm, and her form solidified beneath my touch.

  “Zerôn would hunt me down. He would find me, and the torture would continue.” Tugging against my hold, she frowned. “Please, let me go.”

  But I knew what would happen. Zerôn had already sent Serîk to find me. And if she were only a babe, he would still find her and take what he needed from her or someone else. I couldn’t let that happen. Which meant I needed to do something.

  Holy Kânkarä. A desperate idea blossomed, unfolding in my mind, and I sucked in a lungful of air. Was it possible? Could I do it?

  I was so distracted with my thoughts and talking to Zîyanâ that I didn’t see Zerôn until it was too late. He crashed into me, throwing us all to the ground. Screaming for help, I clung to Zîyanâ’s soul, knowing that if I let go, she would disappear.

  Light flashed behind my eyelids and pain burst in my head as I bounced off the ground. A heavy weight landed on me, and I continued to scream.

  “Do you see her?” Zerôn snarled, straddling me. “Is her soul here?” He shook me, bouncing my head off the floor again and again. “She said you see the dead,” he growled, leaning over me so that three blurred images of the kümdâr swam through my vision. “Can you see her?”

  Zîyanâ’s soul trembled, and she pleaded for me to let her go.

  “Tell me,” he shrieked.

  You better help me.

  Basvîk’s words registered a split-second before I saw him standing behind the kümdâr with a thick pole in his hands. With a heavy swing, the piece of wood connected with Zerôn’s head, throwing him off me and into a slumped heap on the floor.

  I blinked up at the golden guard. Hatred was etched in his twisted expression of defiance. As his gaze shifted to me, his features relaxed, and he dropped the makeshift club and held out his hand.

  “You better help me,” he said. “After that, you owe me.”

  Nodding, I held out my left hand, keeping Zîyanâ’s soul in my right. He pulled me upright, and I exhaled with relief.

  “Is he dead?” I asked, hopefully.

  Instead of giving me assurances, the Serîk said, “No, and I can’t kill him. I don’t think anyone can.” He took a single breath but gave no other explanation as he rushed on. “And we need to hurry. Zerôn is usually in the throne room by now, so his men are likely on their way here. There’s one route that can get us out of here in time, but we need to be gone before the other Serîk are on it, or they’ll catch us.”

  With a glance at Zîyanâ, his words about the guards were confirmed.

  “If Zerôn catches Basvîk after that,” she said. “His life is forfeit.”

  But to not kill Zerôn right now, with this opportunity… I climbed to my feet and scanned the room. Surely, a well-placed knife…

  “Please don’t make me go back,” she begged. “Let me go and—”

  I told her why that wasn’t an option, just in case I failed, and dragged her with me to her prostrate form. Scooping up the blade, I said, “I’ll cut off his head—”

  “You don’t have time,” Basvîk snapped.

  My attention bounced from her soul to him to the kümdâr and back to her. Her eyes widened, and she nodded.

  “Put it in his heart,” she said. “By the time the Serîk arrive, hopefully he’ll be dead.”

  We approached the kümdâr, my heart thumping against my ribs. His blond hair was matted with blood, and his skin was split by his ear. I shoved away the instinct to flee, as well as all the reasons killing was wrong, and drove the blade between his ribs, deep into his chest, until only the hilt was visible.

  Zerôn’s body shook, and I stumbled back. My skin prickled, and my mouth dried. I-I just… Oh rot. I just killed—

  “You need to leave now,” Zîyanâ said, interrupting my thoughts.

  I blinked back to the emergency at hand. She was right. So right. “Not without you,” I said. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “I’ll take her,” Basvîk said. “I’ll take her and hide her. Just put her back.”

  “He’ll never stop looking,” she said. “He’ll hunt me until he has me again.”

  “Stop,” I snapped, yanking at the threads of keeping-myself-together. I turned my back on the kümdâr’s body and said, “I have an idea.”

  Both closed their mouths and waited.

  I stared at my sister, thinking of all she’d had to endure. If I was wrong… No, I wouldn’t even indulge the thoughts. Failure wasn’t an option. This would have to work, but in the back of my mind a voice chanted impossible. />
  “You have to take us both with you, okay?” I said to Basvîk and, despite his nod, continued, “Take us to Terit. There is a magî there who can change our appearances—and make the changes permanent. Afterward, the two of you can go wherever you want.”

  Basvîk nodded, and Zîyanâ murmured her thanks.

  Impossible. Impossible. Impossible.

  Taking a deep breath, I scanned the linoxa and let determination fill me. The wrongness of this place was so massive, and Zerôn so evil, I couldn’t let him win. So we needed to get out of here. I needed to accomplish the impossible, and then we’d deal with the consequences.

  Filled with righteous indignation, I closed my eyes, concentrated on the magîk within, and let my power flood me, from the top of my head all the way to the tips of my fingers and toes.

  I would win, for me, for Rünê, and for every other magî Zerôn had betrayed. And when we left the linoxa, I’d throw a torch inside to stop this madness.

  But first I needed to put Zîyanâ’s soul somewhere safe, where Zerôn wouldn’t easily find her or her magîk. Checking my grip on her soul, I stepped out of my body so I could put her soul in.

  Rot. I hoped this would work.

  * * *

  My memory is lost. Gone. I can’t remember my name or magîk. I don’t know what happened to our ruler or why the jungle is transforming, becoming even more wild. Who is the guard and why is he angry? And why do I feel safe with a deadly panthera?

  Arriving in Pûleêr, I hope to find relief among the magî and, hopefully, some answers. Instead, the laws of nature change before my eyes, and the dangers of the jungle are nothing compared to this twisted utopia.

  When the panthera leaves, a new magî joins the outpost, and I know he has answers. But what if all of my questions were wrong?

  As the jungle vines converge and tighten, I begin to wonder… Was my memory truly lost—or was it stolen?

  *You can continue the Magî Rising series now with Stolen. Click HERE to continue reading.*

  About the Author

  RAYE WAGNER hates writing bios. She’d much rather tell you a story. She’s partial to fantasy, with dragons or magic or something so she can lie and not feel guilty.

  When she isn’t writing, dreaming, or lying, Raye is with her family… preferably at the beach.

  You can sign up for Raye’s newsletter, HERE to be notified of new releases and to get exclusive sneak peeks.

  * * *

  Connect with Raye on social media here: Instagram|Twitter|Facebook|Website

  Also by Raye Wagner:

  Magî Rising

  Betrayed

  Stolen

  Illusions

  * * *

  The Darkest Drae (Trilogy) Co-written with Kelly St. Clare

  Blood Oath

  Shadow Wings

  Black Crown

  ***

  The Sphinx Series

  Origin of the Sphinx: A Sphinx Prequel Story

  Cursed by the Gods

  Demigods and Monsters

  Son of War: A Sphinx Companion Story

  Myths of Immortality

  Daughter of Darkness: A Sphinx Companion Story

  Fates and Furies

  Sphinx Coloring Book, Vol. 1

  Threads and Legends (Phaidra’s story)

  * * *

  Curse of the Ctyri Co-written with Rita Stradling

  Magic of Fire and Shadows

  Magic of Talisman and Blood

  Magic of Deceit and Beauty (tbd)

 

 

 


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