by Ella M. Lee
He shook his head. “No. Nicolas and I are close, but that’s a level of intimacy we do not have. He is incredibly private.”
I frowned. But Nicolas had given me this piece of himself. How could I use that closeness to my advantage here?
I tried to calm my rapid breathing and think.
Closeness.
With numb hands, I took my knife from its sheath. “I have an idea.”
I pressed the knife into Nicolas’s left forearm, drawing a long line. I did the same to his right forearm.
“I’m so sorry, Nicolas,” I said.
I knew he would hate this if he were here to have an opinion. It felt like a violation. He didn’t even like it when strangers got too close to him or when people touched him without permission, and now I was cutting into him.
But I needed to do blood magic, and there was no other way. I was hoping I could use our bond, like I had with Daniel, to control him just enough to call him back.
I set the knife aside and pressed a finger into each wound, dipping into the welling blood. Slowly and carefully, I drew it in long strokes up to his shoulders and over his chest, connecting with his heart, aligning with his sanctum.
In a rush, I rolled my transmuted fire magic over the blood and into Nicolas, tugging as hard as I could on the strange invisible ropes that bound him and his magic together.
Nothing.
I tried again, and again, and again. There were tears in my eyes. I felt faint and ill.
Ryan put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “This is a good idea, but wrongly executed. Nicolas is intentionally blocking the connection between his sanctum and his physical body. You’d die before you’d be able to overcome that. He’s too strong for you. But you’ve seen his sanctum. You could likely get inside. I think I can push you in.”
I met his eyes. “What do I do inside?”
“Find him and bring him out. The blood magic should work in there,” Ryan said. “Although you must be very careful not to overextend.”
I looked to Daniel, but he was focused on his own task.
“We don’t have a lot of options,” Ryan said. “We could wait and see if he revives himself. It’s possible, but in the few cases I’ve heard of magical comas, it’s unpredictable. It could take weeks or months or never happen at all. The longer he’s in there, the less likely he is to ever emerge. Pulling him out as quickly as we can would be better, but it is dangerous for you. I don’t know what you’ll find in his sanctum, and if you can’t find him and wake him, I don’t know that we could pull you back out. There aren’t good choices here. What do you think?”
I studied Ryan’s concerned eyes. Could I really say no? If there was a chance at all that I could help, that I could save Nicolas?
I nodded. “Okay,” I said, my voice shaking. “I am terrified, but okay.”
Ryan’s gaze was encouraging. He took both my hands. “I have faith in you. You have excellent instincts, and no one has made more of an impact on Nicolas than you. If any of us can do this, it’s you.”
Ryan came to sit behind me, his arms around me. “Fiona, put your hands on Nicolas.”
I did as he asked, placing my hands on either side of Nicolas’s neck gently. His skin was still cold and damp. He was breathing, but only barely, still unresponsive.
I turned my head to look at Ryan. “Don’t give me much time. It’s still dangerous here. If I’m not back with him in ten minutes, get us home and figure out the rest later.”
Ryan nodded. “Be careful. Trust yourself.”
I settled myself against him, my hands pressed into Nicolas. I closed my eyes.
Ryan’s voice was in my ear. “Fiona, picture Nicolas’s sanctum in your mind. Every detail you remember. Everything you felt when there. Everything you’ve ever felt when interacting with Nicolas’s magic. Find your center while keeping that image present within yourself. Focus on reaching his sanctum. I’ll push you in. Keep your eyes closed.”
I did as Ryan asked, calling up everything I had ever felt with Nicolas. Very slowly, a thread formed in the blackness of my mind’s eye. It was silver and bright, leading away from me, into the dark nothingness.
“Follow,” Ryan said, his voice barely a whisper in my ear.
I forced myself forward. The thread fought me, rejected me, elongated away from me. I gripped it tighter and sped up, slamming myself along it.
The distance resolved pinpoint by pinpoint into whiteness.
Nicolas’s sanctum.
Here was the cold, the snow, the towering cliffs of ice that I remembered. It was deathly silent, deathly calm. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, its rays weak and long, everything dim and ominous.
Ryan? What now?
I tried to form the words with my body’s mouth, back in the real world, but it didn’t feel like I was connected anymore. I took a hesitant step back, unsure of what to do, but the thread was gone. Behind me was the same ever-extending whiteness.
I was trapped.
Movement caught the corner of my eye. An arctic wolf stalked across my path, its ivory fur coated in frost.
Nicolas? I thought, recalling the first time I had ever truly interacted with him: as a white wolf.
It stopped, turning to eye me warily. I wondered if it would attack. I braced for it to lunge, shifting my weight defensively.
I’m just trying to find Nicolas. I’m not here to hurt anything.
It inched closer, lips drawing back slightly over its teeth, considering. I tensed, ready to dodge.
Please? I need to find him. I’m trying to help. I love him.
After a moment, the wolf looked off in the other direction and continued on. It wasn’t exactly an invitation, but without any better ideas, I trudged after it into the distance. It was freezing cold, the wind cutting deep into me. I didn’t know if I could die here, but I was certain nothing good would happen if I stayed too long.
And if I never found Nicolas? If I couldn’t get out? Well, that was a bridge to cross later.
I scanned around myself. Nothing but the wolf, as far as I could see. I followed it, jogging to keep up. I had no idea how quickly time was passing, or if time passed the same way here as it did in the real world.
After what seemed like an hour or more, a tiny black dot appeared in the distance. I squinted at it, having no idea what it was. I was freezing, my teeth chattering, my hands numb and shaking. I picked up speed.
As I got closer, the dot formed into a human shape. The wolf flat-out ran to the form, and so did I, stumbling.
It was Nicolas, dressed all in black, unconscious in the snow. The wolf slammed into him.
No! I cried silently.
But I needn’t have feared. The wolf evaporated into mist as it hit him, settling itself into his body like gentle rain.
I dropped to his side.
Nicolas!
I shook him. No response. I put my ear to his chest. His heart was beating. I moved my hands frantically over him.
Wake up! I yelled.
I shook him. I pounded his chest with my fist—once, twice, three times.
Nothing.
Blood magic, I recalled. Ryan had told me to try my blood magic here. Whatever this form of Nicolas was, I could likely tap into his consciousness through it.
With a sharp tug, I ripped open his shirt to expose his bare chest and arms. His skin was pale and cold.
I had no knife or other sharp object on me. With a grimace, I pressed my index finger’s nail deeply into first his left forearm and then his right forearm.
I’m sorry. I know you hate this. I’m so sorry.
I made the same long strokes of blood from his arms up to his heart and lungs as I had on his real body, igniting them with my transmuted magic.
Nicolas stirred the tiniest bit. I froze, unsure if I had imagined it. I sent a little more power, trying to use it to tug on him. He stirred again. The tiniest twitch of his eyelids, a flinch.
Open your eyes. Please wake up.
He didn’t move.
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t overextend here. I had no idea what would happen if I did that. I might very well die, but I needed to somehow make my pull on him more powerful.
I didn’t know real blood magic. I knew the parlor trick version of it. A Meteor magician, or even a Flame magician with a better specialty than mine, could use wards and rune symbols to hone the magic further, but I didn’t know any of that. I was just a Water magician now. A slightly special one, but still far removed from these particular magical skills.
Trust yourself, Ryan had told me, but what did that mean?
Nicolas, I love you, I said, shaking him. Nicolas, please, please open your eyes. I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m sorry this happened. Come back to me. I need you.
I didn’t know what to do.
I wasn’t Ryan, I wasn’t Irina, I wasn’t Daniel. I didn’t know what I was doing. They had immense knowledge of Water magic, of magic in general. They had experienced so much. They could be decisive and creative and inventive. I was inadequate compared to that. Why was I here? Why had I been tasked with such an important part?
Tears pooled in my eyes. I was about to fail.
I took another deep breath. Our connection. I was here because I knew Nicolas well enough to know his sanctum, and because I could draw on our connection. I had spent the last few months wrapping myself in his life, learning him, loving him. And he loved me in return.
We had a bond.
Nicolas didn’t need magic to fix him right now. He needed love. He needed comfort. He needed safety. I wasn’t going to let him die here. Not now, not like this. Not after he had saved me time and time again.
My uncertainty over his past was washed away by how overwhelmingly good I felt when I was near him. He had given me so much. I could give him a reason to return.
With numb fingers, I drew a long gouge down my arm, watching the stark red blood well up.
I sat back and centered my mind. It only took a moment to find the deep stillness of my magic and focus on it.
Shakily, I dipped my fingers into my own blood and then painted over the lines of Nicolas’s blood on his skin.
Nicolas, Nicolas, Nicolas, I murmured in my mind. I sent my power down the blood lines, igniting them once again with my fire magic, pouring myself into them.
Not enough.
My eyes were unfocused. In a daze, almost automatically, I drew runes. Strange, ancient runes that I had only seen before in advanced books. I mixed our blood together on the skin of his arms and chest in an intricate, spiraling pattern.
Come home with me, Nicolas, I thought. Please. I love you, and you are mine. I’m sorry I let you think for even a second that I was unsure.
Delicately, I pressed my magic into him. As I studied the patterns in this heightened, focused state, I understood something new. It wasn’t the sheer amount of power that would pull him out. It was the structure. It was only igniting the runes—the shape of him, of us—in the right way that would work.
He was in a locked room… but I had the key.
I gently pressed more power into him, lighting up the very last of the pattern, clicking it into completion. With a single blink, I brought myself out of that focused state. I was shaking and cold and dizzy.
I put my hands on his shoulders. He flinched, and my heart leaped. I gripped him tighter, holding him to me.
Nicolas, I need you to open your eyes.
I waited, trying to pour love and affection into my touch, wrapping him in my magic. I traced the runes with my fingers and felt the echo of the magic as it settled into him, as it held on to the bond between us and lit it up like fire.
Minutes passed. I murmured his name. My heart felt like it was encased in ice. My hands shook harder with cold and worry.
I need you to open your eyes, I whispered again, feeling desperate.
Then…
Fiona.
The word settled in my mind like falling snow.
I sat up straighter, gripping his arms, staring into his face, willing him to respond again.
Nicolas?
His eyes snapped open. He looked like he had woken from the deepest sleep, from a hundred-year dream. Second by second, his expression cleared. His gaze flicked up to the white sky for only a moment before settling back on me, alarmed. He gripped my arms tightly, and I felt light-headed.
I heard his faint whisper again. Fiona.
In an instant, I was out of his sanctum, back in Hong Kong, back in the filthy upstairs room of that half-destroyed house. The light was dim and dingy compared to the brilliant white of Nicolas’s sanctum. The outside world through the windows was still dark and silent.
I gasped, struggling, confused. Ryan gripped me. “Fiona, calm down, you’re okay.”
Nicolas murmured something. Daniel’s eyes, which had been closed, flicked open. The little shielded box containing the poison was at his side. He grasped Nicolas’s arm in both his hands. Dan’s eyes flashed to mine for barely a moment.
“Nico,” he whispered.
“Ah-Ming,” Nicolas whispered in reply.
Daniel’s eyes closed in the most profound relief I had ever seen. He was crying again, his breathing ragged. Irina was watching Nicolas with wide, amazed eyes. Behind me, Ryan’s hands tensed on me hopefully.
“Hey,” I murmured gently, leaning into Nicolas. “Open your eyes for me.”
His eyelids trembled. After several seconds that felt like an eternity, his eyes opened. Their color was darker and muddier than usual, but they were undeniably Nicolas’s perfect eyes. They found me first, then Ryan behind me, then Irina, then finally Daniel.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked. “Dan, why are you crying?”
Daniel stood shakily and turned away, his face in his hands, his whole body trembling.
Nicolas’s eyes met mine again, alarmed.
I touched his cheek. “Dan is upset because you were dead for a minute there.”
“What happened?” he asked. He flexed his hands in front of him. His eyes settled on the lines I had drawn in his blood, and he studied them, curious and confused.
None of us could speak. For several moments, the silence in the room was overwhelming.
“Later,” Daniel said, turning back to us. He had pulled himself together. “This place is not safe. Nico, can you walk?”
“I have no idea,” Nicolas said, still somewhat bewildered.
Daniel looked at Ryan and Irina. “Get him up, sweep this floor, destroy any evidence that we were here. We’re going.”
Whatever Dan was feeling, he had pushed it aside in favor of controlling this situation. If he could be strong, so could I.
I stood, backing away, allowing Ryan and Irina to help Nicolas to his feet. I pulled out my phone and checked the time and our secure channel. It felt like I had been in his sanctum for an hour or more, but not even ten minutes had passed here in the real world since Daniel’s last message to Cameron and Sylvio, since Ryan and Irina had started the healing process for Nicolas. There had been only scant chatter from Teng in the channel since then.
My hands shook as I typed a quick message in our chat channel.
Fiona: Cam, Syl, Nicolas is stable. We are heading back to you now.
Cameron: Check. We are standing by.
I watched Nicolas for a moment. He was subdued and shaky on his feet, but he seemed mostly okay. He caught my eye, and I smiled weakly. He looked more unsure and upset than I had ever seen him.
I went to him, carefully wrapping my arms around his waist. My god, it felt good to hold him.
He gripped me against himself with one arm rather desperately. The other was around Ryan. I could see he needed the support. He was trembling badly. I pressed my lips against his neck briefly and squeezed him to me.
Fiona, he said in my mind, the word tentative.
I love you. You are mine. Plenty of time to talk later, I thought, giving him a tiny, strained smile.
“Fi, with me,” Daniel said, and I jumped, startled.<
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I let go of Nicolas reluctantly. He seemed to do the same in return, his eyes following me intently.
Daniel had picked up the tiny magical box and was moving toward the stairs. I followed as he walked through all the downstairs rooms, scattering any remaining magic, making sure nothing here could lead to us.
I touched his shoulder gently. He tensed, his eyes going to mine.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. He didn’t need me to explain.
He shuddered, gripping my hand tightly for a moment. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I said.
He nodded, his expression intense. There were a million words between us right now, but none of them needed to be said. Daniel and I shared almost nothing more strongly than our love for Nicolas, and our relief that he was still alive.
Our eyes turned to him as Ryan helped him down the stairs. Irina trailed behind, watching carefully.
“Fi,” Dan said, “can you and Ryan get Nico to my car? I’m going to go with Irina in Ryan’s. No one drives home alone, got it? We meet back at Nicolas’s apartment.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, spinning around, locating the direction of the car. Ryan was still shouldering Nicolas and handing his keys off to Dan.
Daniel held up the tiny shielded box. “I’ll take this,” he said to Ryan.
Ryan and I moved slowly down the road toward the car, supporting Nicolas. He could mostly walk, thankfully. I cast my eyes around us warily as we went. All three of us had activated our shields—even Nicolas, whose magic was in shambles.
Sylvio ran to meet us, relieving us and shouldering Nicolas himself. “What the fuck happened?”
“Later,” I said, echoing Daniel’s words. “Let’s get home. You okay, Nicolas?”
“Yes, mostly,” he said. “Parts of my sanctum are shattered, but I’ll be fine.”
Sylvio’s eyes went wide at Nicolas’s words. Sylvio, a former commander himself, understood the gravity and implications of that statement.
“Sylvio, you and Cameron get home. We’ll meet at Nicolas’s apartment,” I said. I turned to Ryan. “Can you drive?”
“Of course,” he said.
Sylvio helped Nicolas into the back of Daniel’s car, and I clambered in next to him.
