by Jessica Gunn
The young man went to sit up, but pain tore through his chest. He slammed back down to the bedroll beneath him, panting past the burning on his skin. His ribs felt as though they had been rearranged, no longer functioning to protect his lungs and other organs, but to pierce and damage them.
“We have to start over because of you,” the gruff voice said again. The young man recognized it this time and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Leave me alone,” he said to the man.
Jerrick chuckled darkly. “Not a damn chance, Whitmore. Every single day, you’re proving to be more like your cowardly ancestor that you are a master of poisons. This plan of yours would have worked if you hadn’t taken to the girl like your predecessor had.”
“I’ll fix this,” the young man said.
Jerrick huffed. Footsteps echoed against the walls as he made his way toward the door on the far wall. “Better hope so. Or the Neuians will slaughter us all, starting with you.”
“If they can find us,” the young man said.
Jerrick opened the door, letting it slam against the wall. The young man jumped.
“I’m about ready to feed you to the Neuians myself.”
Poison in the Well
Book Three of the Deadly Trades Series
Chapter 1
Fire. I’m on fire.
Searing pain around the lengths of my limbs slowly slides up the center of my body. My lungs, charred from flame, are unusable. I gasp, but no new air arrives to breathe life into me once more. The edges of my hair burn, the flickering flames growing ever closer to my face.
All around me, smoke billows, rising up into the sky above while I stand there on fire.
Burning.
Blazing for all to see.
Scorching anew from the inside out.
A golden and red liquid pours out of me in waves. Not blood, but something else. Something ancient and raw.
My magik.
It’s leaving me! Scared by the flames, my magik is retreating!
I reach out to scoop up some of the liquid, trying not to let too much of it slip through my fingers to the ground again. I can’t be without it. I need my magik. But the more I try to scoop it up, the quicker the red-toned golden liquid pours out of me. And inside every drop of the liquid is a tiny burning fire.
Lifting some closer to my face, I examine the small flames, burning low, like embers.
Embers in my blood.
I jerked awake, my chest heaving. A cold sweat droplet slid down my temple to my chin, dripping onto the sheets. My clothes and the bed beneath them were damp, clinging to my skin like early morning dew. I threw off the thin sheet laying over me and sat up, pressing a hand against my thumping chest.
A nightmare. It was just a nightmare, and yet… I raised my hand, fingers squeezed into a vise grip, and reached out for my Fire Circle knife on the other side of the room. The metal answered my call and, after a moment of wiggling around on the desk, the knife soared across the room to my palm. I caught it and brandished the knife as panic swept a cold wind through my chest, though no one else was in the room with me.
I swallowed hard, my mouth and lips dry. I ran my tongue over my lips as my eyes darted around the room. Nothing was on fire. There wasn’t even the faintest hint of smoke. And yet I’d sweat through my clothes and sheets enough to make it feel as though I’d actually been hot enough to burn.
Maybe there was plenty still I could burn for. Although I wished I could say this was the first dream like this that I’d had. No, almost every night since returning to Fire Circle Headquarters from Landshaft, I’d been burned alive by Ember poison in my dreams, my magik pouring out from me mixed with, seemingly, my own blood.
Those fires that haunted me in my sleep followed me around during the day, too. It was hard to be rid of them when every waking moment was spent training or babysitting the witches we had saved from Mason and Jerrick’s anti-Neuian program. At least today I’d escape that and begin the next task: attempting to organize the Fire Circle’s library.
I would almost rather be training new Hunters.
I hurried out of bed and into the shower, washing off the remnants of my nightmare. Every now and then I checked the floor of the shower to make sure that I wasn’t still bleeding out or losing magik like in the dream. I hadn’t even been poisoned by that crap Talon had created. It wasn’t like I was in danger of becoming one of those forcibly-made Ember witches. Especially if the Fire Circle kept me cooped up in Headquarters forever.
After a quick shower, I changed and headed downstairs to the ground floor of Headquarters for breakfast. I made my way through the café and grabbed a muffin to eat on the way to the library. Usually it wasn’t busy in there. Doubly not this early in the morning. However, the second I reached the library and flicked on the light switch next to the door, I realized that it was very possible no one ever came down here, period.
Teetering stacks of books—literal stacks, not a shelf in sight—were piled haphazardly across the floor. Signs had been littered around the relatively small space, about the size of the lobby upstairs. The library wasn’t a big one, but whoever had been stocking it with tomes over the years had certainly made the most of it… in also the most cluttered way possible.
I gulped as I took in the mess. Nothing was dusty or dirty, per se, but it was obvious by the slapdash piling that the job of organizing everything had been skirted for years. Possibly even decades. All except for a section toward the back of the room.
Here, tomes and journals had been meticulously placed and even dusted. I walked closer to get a better look. This corner, almost hidden away by the soaring book piles, had a full actual shelf of books set behind a pane of glass. I peered closer and read some of the spines. This was the witches’ collection. Every line had a few books stored here, that I already knew. But some of these appeared to be older than some of the larger tomes on Old Ones that the Fire Circle stored down here.
I backed away from the case, afraid witch magik would fire out at me. I’d had enough close encounters with Ember magik lately. No need to risk more.
Turning back to the rest of the library, I set my hands on my hips and sighed. “This is going to take forever.”
Which was probably the point. Dacher was hoping to keep both Kian and me busy for months.
I set to work, first by skimming over as many of the titles as possible and mentally labeling them into categories. There wasn’t a system in place—which was obvious by books about Old Ones being near Fire Circle history—so that would be step one. As I combed through the various texts and diaries, I tried to put them into groups with like books. Over the course of several hours, I’d made a dent in the front half of the library. Books were still piled high, but they were no longer randomly grouped together. By the time I finally took a break long enough to dig my phone out of my jacket pocket and look at the screen, it was already well into the afternoon.
“Shit,” I said, staring down at my phone. My service wasn’t too great in here, so there weren’t any notifications. Basement plus weird magik did not allow cell phone service to get through that often. But I hadn’t intended to spend all day down here either.
All right. Time for a break.
I hurried to the door and went to turn off the lights but stopped at the last second to look at my work. I’d already done more than I thought Dacher had believed possible in one day. I grinned, proud I’d done something of value.
A gleam from the back of the room caught my eye, a shiny red something catching the light from the ceiling lamps. I lifted my fingers from the light switch and peered closer. The light… appeared to be coming from a book.
“What the hell?”
I crossed the library on quick feet. The glow had grown, casting the nearby books in a red and orange glow, almost like Ember ether magik. The book rested at the bottom of a stack, its spine emitting the soft glow. I removed everything on top of the small book, carefully placing the books into another stack as I investigate
d. Nothing down here was supposed to be magikal, not like this.
The small tome was a little longer than my hand, and the front of it had a gemstone of some sort built into the cover. That was what glowed, like a tiny ember burning in coals at the bottom of a fire pit.
I flipped the book around, looking at all of its edges. There was writing on the cover and spine, and all over the inside pages, but it looked like scratches more than writing. Ancient. Unreadable.
“What are you?” I asked the book like it could—or would—answer.
For a moment, the text on the pages inside shimmered, shifting. I blinked, vertigo sending my head spinning. When everything cleared again, the text was suddenly in English. Or, rather, vaguely English with a couple thous and yes.
This time I said it louder. “What the hell?”
The ceiling above me shook, shaking loose dust from the wood paneling. I brushed it off my shoulder, coughing, and glanced upward. A creeping feeling spider-walked down my spine. Had the book done this? What sort of magik-as-hell thing was this?
A loud thud smacked against the ceiling. Screaming followed, including curt shouts. Orders. I slammed the book shut and tucked it into my jacket pocket. Thank god it was cold down here in the basement and I’d needed it. I wanted more time with this book and its weird shifting-words trick before showing it to Dacher.
After making sure the book was secure, I headed for the door and rushed up the stairs to the main level, my feet pounding against every wooden step. My heart leapt up into my throat, my heartbeat racing in my ears. What the hell was going on up here? The last time this had happened, Krystin and I had been training and Hunters poisoned by the Ember witch poison had been wreaking havoc.
I vaulted up the stairs to the first floor of Fire Circle Headquarters, and across the hallway to the lobby—promptly skidding to a stop.
Several Hunters were gathered around, each bearing their Fire Circle knives or various types of magik. A palm of fire here, a wave of water flying in the air at the ready over on the other side of the crowd. All of them surrounded Dacher, Leader of the Fire Circle.
I brandished my own weapon, pulling it from the sheath at my back. The cool metal of the hilt fit against my palms, slick with sweat at the feeling of tense, nervous energy volleying around the room. Everyone stood still, watching out the front door of Headquarters, where, on the other side of the turnstile doors, stood two demons. Their red eyes caught sunlight reflecting off the windows. They hadn’t even attempted to disguise the demonic mark before going out in public. What were they thinking?
Each had a palm of Ember witch ether tinted red from Talon’s poison poised in their palms, tiny flickering flames wavering between their fingers. Right out there in the open, nearly on the very public streets of Boston’s financial district.
While the inside of Fire Circle Headquarters, the real inside, was hidden by magiks, the outside looked like a skyscraper. To everyone passing on the streets, the demons looked as if they had created magikal flames and were staring into the front door of a building. These demons were risking being found out, revealing the real magik and demons in this world that normal people didn’t know about. And as more Hunters gathered around and stood at the ready to greet these demons the moment they stepped through the door, the two demons pushed forward.
The taller one, a male in ripped jeans and a black T-shirt, walked through the turnstile doors. The second, a smaller woman with jet-black hair, followed behind him. No Hunters, not even Dacher himself, acted as they stepped into the lobby— as if there weren’t one thousand years of sacred rules that used to protect places like this.
My heart leapt into my throat, pounding so hard, I thought that maybe it would burst. Instead, I swallowed down the fear even as I realized exactly how many people were in danger if this went wrong. I pushed forward through the sea of Hunters, closer to Dacher, and found Ben, Krystin, and Avery nearby. We were all waiting, silent. Afraid. These two demons were not by any means the most powerful to walk inside Headquarters unannounced and uninvited in the last two years. But given their Ember magik, they had to have been emissaries from Jerrick himself.
Which was not a good thing at all.
“What do you want?” asked Dacher. He was a stout man, many years past prime Hunting age. But he stood before the demons as if he were the sole defender of the Fire Circle. And, in a way, he was—as its Leader.
Before they answered, I looked over the demons briefly. They each wore normal clothes, nothing too baggy, nothing that could hide a secret stash of poison. Not even a necklace with a vial like the one that Veynix used to wear with his precious mutated platypus venom.
“We are here to deliver word from Jerrick himself,” said the male demon as he extinguished the Ember ether flames in his hands.
“Clearly,” said Krystin, a harsh bite in her tone. She had her sword in her hand at her side. She’d be able to pull it up faster than these demons could blink.
The woman stepped forward so she was even with the other demon. “Jerrick would like to welcome a dialogue. He has seen the importance of the Fire Circle in holding off the Neuians and would like to revisit an alliance by having a conversation with your Leader, Dacher.” The demon’s eyes slid to me, narrowing. A chill ran down my spine, spider-walking from the top of my head to the bottom of my tailbone. “After this one’s attempts to talk to Jerrick himself, anyway.”
Dacher didn’t bother to look behind him and see who the demon was talking about. He must have already known. Instead, Dacher kept his eyes straight ahead, watching the demons closely. “And what has made Jerrick decide to suddenly change his mind?”
Probably us demolishing Talon’s main magik machine. A vision of the blood churning inside it, embers flickering orange as though in a fire instead of liquid, flashed across my mind. It wasn’t the entire program, but we’d saved dozens of witches that day, many of whom were innocents, and had put a serious dent in Talon’s work.
That was more than likely why Jerrick had changed his mind.
The woman demon lifted an eyebrow. “Because he’s seen the power of the Neuians.”
He’s afraid. Or, more likely, this is all a lie. He had to have known how dangerous the Neuians were when he’d ordered Mason to work on the Ember witch project. Otherwise, why bother trying to make stable soldiers out of witches with inherently volatile magik?
Dacher scoffed, a bitter laugh gracing his lips. “That is hardly my problem.”
My stomach dropped. Though true, I hadn’t exactly expected Dacher to come right out and say it.
“So has the Fire Circle,” Dacher continued. “Quite intimately, might I add. One of them nearly cost us the entire Circle. So do forgive me if I’m not terribly worried about Jerrick’s change of heart.”
I swallowed hard, watching Dacher dance along a very thin line. I glanced to Ben, Avery, and Krystin. They each wore dark looks, and Ben’s jaw was clenched tighter than I’d ever seen it before.
The two demons stepped forward, their eyes flashing red-orange with Ember witch ether. The male raised his hand and summoned more ether to his palm. “If you won’t agree to a meeting, there is only one course of action left.”
“And what’s that?” Avery called out, inching even closer to Dacher.
A swirling cloud of dread formed in my stomach. What were the chances offering a peaceful solution was these demons’ actual goal in coming here?
“Death to the Fire Circle,” said the woman demon.
The male raised his other hand. “Starting with its Leader.”
A column of ether burst forth from his raised hands, soaring across the lobby straight at Dacher. Ben and Avery reacted first, pulling Dacher out of the way, while an ether-shaper nearby threw himself in front of the trio, erecting a wall of ether in the next breath. The ether-wall took the brunt of the attack, though Ember ether leaked out the sides. Someone cried out, pained.
Dacher.
I jumped up to see over the crowd of Hunters movi
ng to attack and defend, spotting Dacher briefly on the ground. Dammit.
Chaos erupted. The demons didn’t leave, remaining in the lobby, surrounding themselves in a tornado of Ember ether stronger than anything I’d ever seen before. Fire and water magik were shot at the tornado, turning it into a tempest that swept the lobby of Headquarters. Even Ben had stepped forward and zapped the storm with lightning. But his attacks bounced off the whirlwind and crackled around the room. Hunters ducked out of the way of the lightning.
“Get them!” Krystin shouted over the din, though she didn’t react with magik. Instead, she’d brought up her infamous sword and rushed the pair of force-changed Ember witches.
They pushed their hands forward into the air at the same time, like some sort of pre-programmed action, and sent the tornado of ether right at us. The one ether-shaper in the room, a Fire Circle Hunter, jumped in front of it, trying to hold the tornado, but cringed, losing control.
“Get everyone out of the way!” I shouted. There wasn’t any earth nearby, nothing I could grab and use besides the very foundation of the building that really did need to stay where it currently was.
Ben met my eyes over the chaos, his face paling before his gaze returned to the ground where Dacher lay.
“I can’t hold it!” the ether-shaper yelled.
The tornado flew out of their control, zipping around the room. Many Hunters dodged, but not all made it out of the way in time. Screams tore through the lobby as Ember witch ether burned the skin it touched.
Including Dacher.
Krystin had spun and threw up her hands, holding off a section of the attack—the first real show of magik I’d seen from her in months. But even she couldn’t stop the tornado.
Some of the wood paneling caught on fire from the ethereal flames. Hunters screamed, shouting out for water and for help. And when I spun to leap toward the demons, they were gone.
