“Show me what you can do.”
He flinched, the burning ambition in his eyes sputtering. “Really?”
“If I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it. If you can’t follow simple instructions, then there’s no point in proceeding.”
She flowed around him.
“Okay, wait, stop, I’m sorry,” he called, but she kept walking. If he let her walk away, then there was nothing to him. No grit. And to survive in this, that’s what he’d need. He didn’t call out again, but she detected a subtle waft of violets.
Unusual.
Witch magic usually carried the scent of oranges, or—in the case of the fallen ones—sulfur. This was something else, and it intrigued her. But she didn’t stop. Readying her own power, she wanted to see what he’d do to keep her here. She couldn’t yet be certain Carn wasn’t in league with Xadrak, but would discover that truth later, even if it meant cracking open his soul.
An invisible wall erupted in front of her, strong enough to stop her, but with enough give that she didn’t hurt herself. The wall crumbled from a small burst of her power, then for good measure and sport, she spun and released a larger stream of her magic at Carn. He levitated off the ground and she surrounded him with a prison that rendered his magic useless.
He struggled—she’d be worried if he didn’t—and he scrambled to summon his own retaliation only to discover his meagre strength contained. But despite his defeat, she appreciated what he had achieved.
“Who taught you?” she asked.
“Blythe. He said he knew you.”
Blythe had been one of the more powerful mortals she’d encountered, and he’d agreed to aid her quest. He kept an eye on those with power, to see whether they would turn to Xadrak.
“And did he say I’d teach you?”
“He said you’d probably do anything but.”
A good answer. The right answer.
She lowered Carn to the ground and removed the forcefield. “If you know Blythe, then you know he is a good man and serves my cause. If I teach you, will you do the same?”
“He told me only a few details, but I offer my services to you and will be a loyal disciple.”
The proviso was left unsaid, but she heard it anyway: If you give me the power I seek.
A shiver ran up her spine, but she shook away the chill it left behind. She longed for that hot bath.
“Fine. We start tomorrow. I will come to you.” She didn’t want him in her home, wary of revealing its location. She’d taken many precautions over the years to ensure it remained hidden.
“Thank you,” he said, almost breathless, and bowed low.
She nodded to him and vanished.
Tomorrow would be a trial, but right now she needed soothing, scalding water.
III
While Carn talked with Aurelia, Hame slipped into a trance. He formed an image of the witch in his head, and quickly the vision’s memory surfaced. This time he faded out the scenery and focused only on Carn. Once his image stabilized, he sought a new prophecy.
It didn’t take long.
Carn’s hands locked onto his arms. On one side he went cold; on the other he boiled. Warring sensations butted hard inside his body, fighting for dominance over his heart. The heat scorched him but brought deep satisfaction; the cold chilled his heart but enlivened him. He struggled within Carn’s grip, and all the while the witch kept his stare neutral, pinning his arms to his sides, so he couldn’t break free. He fought and he didn’t, wanting to stay but wanting to go.
Carn shook him violently and the vision shredded.
He woke to the witch leaning over him, with a hand clutching his shoulder. Hame threw him off and backed away until his back hit the wall. It took a moment for him to realize he’d escaped and returned to his body. He leant his head back and breathed heavily.
“Are you all right?”
Snakes writhed down his back and constricted around the base of his spine. If Carn hadn’t shaken him, how long would he have been trapped? The feel of warm, strong hands remained, so he rubbed where they’d been. Carn took a step closer, but he held up a hand to keep the witch back.
“I’m fine. Just a tough vision.”
“Does that happen often?” Carn crouched.
“Not as bad as that.” In fact, he struggled to remember having one like it before. Prophecies were tricky things. They often came as a simple knowing and other times a viewing like he watched actors on a stage. Very rarely did he get involved.
“What was it about?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”
But if Hame wasn’t mistaken, that was concern on Carn’s face and he hmmed but didn’t press further. Nor did he go away, and Hame’s body remembered the fight that had raged inside him. He had no doubt Carn brought trouble, but he also brought love. And that would be worth having.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Hame asked, hopeful Carn didn’t.
“I thought I’d head back to the village and rent a room.”
“You could stay here. It would make it easier for Aurelia to train you.”
Carn paused for a moment, his gaze filling Hame with warmth. “I’d be very grateful.”
The witch’s intent flicked his lust. He would have launched himself at Carn right then if not for the heavy weight in his stomach. Maybe with a little time it would lift.
IV
The long bath Aurelia had when she returned home didn’t soothe her. Even as the hot water numbed her nerves, her thoughts jumped to Carn and Hame and whatever they may be doing. She didn’t scry for them or attempt to enter Hame’s mind, having learned that lesson long ago, and after enough time wasted, she turned to something more productive—a search for her brothers.
Olivier tore into the neck of his victim. Blood spurted, and she flinched as an icy fist gripped her heart. She scrambled to find Liesel and only when the vision shifted to show the Baroness many miles away, safe in her castle, did that crushing hold relax.
Returning to her brother, she examined the scene better, saw it was just some hapless woman who’d fallen into Olivier’s orbit. She sought Thierry, and found him sitting in a room, alone, a book open in his left hand, his right clawed and gouging into the wood of the table. His jaw clamped tight enough to make the muscles throb.
One gorged, while the other starved. At least they weren’t with Liesel and Reiner.
Yet.
When she woke in the morning, her mood had not changed. She dreaded having to spend time with the blond witch, especially after what had no doubt been a fun night for him and Hame. The only thing that stopped her reneging on her agreement was Hame’s insistence. She reasoned there had been many men before Carn, and there would be many men after. This was a fling, and it would end in due time.
That didn’t stop her from hesitating to knock on Hame’s door the next morning.
Carn opened it. “Good morning,” he said brightly, blocking her entry. At least he was dressed.
She pursed her lips. “Answering Hame’s door already, are you?”
He frowned. “He’s still asleep.”
“I thought you would be, too.”
“I grew up on a farm. Up with the sun.”
“Well,” she said, her voice clipped, “if you’re ready, we should start.”
“I’m at your command.” And he shepherded her outside, closing the door behind him, despite her straining to see within.
She marched away from Hame’s home and led Carn through the forest. She didn’t really want to do this with him, especially when he would no doubt prefer to tangle with Hame.
She marched into the middle of a clearing: a flat space of grass surrounded by a ring of trees. There were many such places around, pinpoints of higher magic that kept them from being overrun. She erected a shield that sent out waves of unease for anyone who wandered too close.
“Oranges,” Carn whispered. “You smell of them, like Blythe did. My magic smells of—”
“Viol
ets,” she interjected. “You smell of violets.”
“Is that normal?”
“I’m not sure what it means. I’ve never encountered it before.”
While Carn mulled over the question of scent, she took advantage of his engaged concentration and pressed her hand against his chest. Her power surged into him, and he arched back and opened. She rummaged for any taint from Xadrak, delving into his core. She brushed aside his infatuation with Hame, his hunger for power, latching on to anything that might indicate he had been corrupted. Disappointed, she retreated with as much abruptness as she had used going in.
He fell forward gasping for breath. “What was that?”
“I had to check something.”
“What? My spleen? Do you have any idea how that feels?”
“Some.”
“Damn.” He righted himself and massaged the center of his chest. “A little warning would have been helpful.”
“You might not have let me in.”
“Could you blame me?”
“I might have thought you had something to hide.”
“And now you know all my secrets, is that it? I’d call that a violation.”
He had no idea what violation really was.
“Your innermost thoughts do not hold my interest. I found strong emotions—none of which are hidden from your face and your eyes—and you lack the taint of evil. You do not have to stand there so indignant.”
“You have no right—”
She reared up to him, levitating off the ground so she could peer down at him.
“I have every right. You want me to teach you? Then you are mine to do with as I wish. This is not playtime for little girls. Magic is power, and in this world that is the only thing that matters. I teach you so you will aid my cause. I care not what you want from this. I care not whether you think I am unfair or a raging bitch who needs to be brought to heel. I am four hundred years old, and my authority in this world will not be questioned. If you seek to do so, I will turn you away. Is that clear?”
A drum beat inside her chest, threatening to break through and crush the witch beneath its force. She held his stare, seeing his pride stand up to her, but if he wanted what she had to give, he would concede. She didn’t have time for a pissing contest.
He bowed his head and stepped back. “I hope you found what you were looking for.”
She wished she hadn’t felt his desire for Hame, but she admired his humility at this moment. The boy was smart, and he sounded convincing. That would have to do.
She returned to the ground. “You are clean of corruption. That stands you in good stead. Now, show me what you have learned.”
He didn’t smile, his cheeks drawn in and jaw set. She could see Hame’s attraction—the sharp lines, the strong brow and jaw. Even now, as he sulked, something about him tickled her desire. She squashed it, would not entertain it, because being in love with Hame was enough torture. She bit back a sigh and called herself a fool.
Carn summoned a ball of energy, a purple glow to match the violet scent. His brow creased as he enlarged it from the size of an apple to cover his entire hand and then some. Once it grew as large as his head, tendrils snaked out, becoming longer and wider, until they wrapped around him and locked together. A purple shield concealed him, and once fashioned in place, turned invisible. She came forward, brushed her hand over its surface, and felt its energy tingle beneath her touch. If she’d come at him with ill intent, she would have had quite a shock. He had built his defenses well
Carn’s face beamed red.
“Breathe.”
Air burst out of his mouth. The shield wavered and shattered, and the energy dissipated. His brow glistened. He had skill but not enough power. If he remained this weak, he’d never travel the way she did. If attacked, he’d have enough to protect himself from one strike but not a second, and weakness would eventually sour him. She had been lucky to be born of two demon spirits, their powers so great that they imbued her with a sizeable amount of their magic. She knew not where other witches gained their power, or why so little of it. Perhaps if they had more, Xadrak would not have so many willing to join his faction.
“You did well. Tell me what else you’re able to do. Another demonstration of power might well knock you unconscious.”
I sound like my mother.
She’d meant it as a compliment, but his eyes narrowed briefly. She disregarded his affronted honor. The sooner he came to terms with her methods and way of speaking, the happier he’d be.
She created a chair out of air for her to sit on, and in a moment of compassion, she did the same for him, coloring it a little so he knew where to sit. Did she see envy in his eyes? They were such simple tricks to her now, requiring a small charge, that she’d forgotten that in the beginning she had sweated and strained as much as he had. Guilt tugged at her.
Carn sat and told her what he could do—summoning energy, as she had seen, and manipulating it in various ways. He had an affinity for shields, though his lack of strength meant he couldn’t sustain them for long. The one she’d seen yesterday had shattered at her touch, but she hadn’t yet encountered a shield she couldn’t break. He didn’t talk much about offensive magic, but once she prompted him, he admitted to being able to control the lightning fire but only in short bursts. Though he meditated, he could not scry, nor could he travel or reach into the astral.
She wasn’t prepared to give him access to additional power yet, but she could help him make full use of what he already possessed. He had good concentration, but he needed more than that. He needed effortless focus. He didn’t need to push his mind, merely direct it. And from there she could teach him other mind tricks, and maybe unlock his ability to scry and send his consciousness out on the astral. His shields were good but, with an added mental acuity, he’d make them stronger, maintain them, and still keep breathing. For all her misgivings about teaching—especially teaching him—she nurtured a small piece of joy inside her at the prospect.
She was about to start their first lesson when Hame’s mind knocked at hers. She let him in.
I’ve found Xadrak.
V
“Stay!” Aurelia slammed the door in Carn’s face, and he barely avoided running into it.
Their lesson had been cut short, but when Aurelia said Hame needed her, Carn couldn’t stay cross.
What riled him was being locked outside.
On the surface, Hame didn’t look as if he needed comforting or protection. His size and wild red hair made him appear more warrior than seer, and yet vulnerability shimmered in his kind eyes and welcoming smile.
Carn had been prepared to do whatever it took to get Aurelia to teach him—including seducing her—but he hadn’t expected to fall for the oracle.
Before they’d spoken, he had spied on Hame chopping wood, thinking he’d stumbled upon the oracle’s helper. The way he swung his axe, making the muscles along his sweat-slick back ripple, stoked his desire, and he’d ached for a quick fuck.
But learning who Hame was brought on a seismic shift within him, and his plans collapsed. He could no more seduce Aurelia now than cut off his arm. One look from Hame bound him.
Which made last night so maddening.
His balls tightened thinking how much he wanted to feel Hame’s body against his own. He knew Hame wanted him too, but he’d kept a wall between them. Last night they’d talked instead, and he couldn’t deny the pleasure in its simplicity. They’d fallen into an easy companionship he hadn’t even had with his brothers.
Being different in more ways than one had made him wary—not that he was a coward. His knuckles had turned purple more times than he cared to remember, but he’d always been closed off from others. Not even the willing baker’s boy had been able to get near. He’d accepted he would always be apart and alone.
Until Hame.
The door burst open and Aurelia marched over to him. “I have to leave. While I’m gone, practice this.”
She rattled off a
quick description of the task, which wasn’t a task in itself. It was an end result, and she didn’t give him the tools to work it out. He fumbled over his words, trying to get more information, but she vanished before he made one complete, coherent sound. Her disappearance stunned him, and envy twisted in his gut.
One day…
Hame laughed at him from the doorway. “You’ve got the same look on your face I had when my master taught me.”
The oracle leaned with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Are you all right? It sounded serious.”
“I’m fine. Just a troubling message.” Hame’s smile faded. An expectant silence grew between them. What he wouldn’t do to fill it with Hame’s moans.
“I’d better—”
“You should—”
They talked over each other, then laughed at the silliness of it.
“I’d better get on with Aurelia’s task.”
Hame lifted his chin, then turned inside. He left the door open, a welcome sign.
Denying the need within him to follow the oracle and claim what he desired, Carn walked away to where he could avoid distraction. He’d come here for a purpose, and once he’d achieved it, perhaps then he’d consider himself worthy of sharing Hame’s bed.
VI
Aurelia peered through the window at the clockmaker hunched over his workbench. There weren’t many clockmakers in Salzburg, and Hame’s description of the white-haired, spindly man in his late twenties was good enough that it hadn’t been hard to find Georg, Xadrak’s current human persona.
The clockmaker’s shop stood out among its neighbors. Their storefronts were impeccable, their paint bright and shiny with the wealth they aimed to attract. Schwarz & Sohn did not bother with such finery. Smears and streaks on the window blurred much of Aurelia’s view of the inside, while the faded paintwork on the outside belied the beautiful work within. A variety of clocks lined the shelves and while she had expected them to be poor things, they were anything but. The workmanship in each shone, from their housing to their faces, and no doubt their internal mechanics too shared in the same glory. Whatever else Georg may be, he was a master clockmaker.
Burning Blood: Bonds of Blood: Book 2 Page 12
