Blood of Time: Book 18 of the Witch Fairy Series

by Bonnie Lamer

  “If you’re done,” I grind out with more reserve than I’m feeling at the moment, “I can get on with saving your friend.” I feel the eyes of my own companions trying to drill into the back of my head so they can see what crazy thoughts are going through my brain right now. I almost wish they could do it so they can explain them to me. But then I’d have a bunch of holes in my head, and that’s never a good idea.

  The soul licking portion of the day is apparently over. I guess I passed whatever test was being performed since the magic retreats instead of becoming more aggressive. I just hope souls can be dry cleaned because that metaphorical lion tongue left mine feeling slimy.

  The creature in front of me moves slightly to the right. Her right, and only slightly, forcing me to take two big steps to my right to move around her. I consider doing the shoulder knocking thing they do on TV and in the movies, but ultimately decide it’s not the same when you’re just going to hit some random part of a wing instead of a shoulder. Besides, considering our size difference it’s unlikely I’d do anything more than bruise my shoulder. I certainly wouldn’t move the creature.

  Once past her, I rush to the one lying on the ground. Behind me, I hear Kallen tell the kids, “Let your mother handle this.” I appreciate him holding them back. Hopefully, I can handle it.

  Kneeling, I take a moment to look the creature over. She is massive. She must be at least fourteen feet tall and probably five times as wide as I am. She has no arms, just her powerful wings that would dwarf my Angel wings if I had them right now. It’s human-like face is turned away from me, and its large, brown oxen eyes are hooded as they assess me back. I’m not great at reading oxen expressions, but I don’t think she trusts me very much. On the other hand, she does seem to be dying and her friends don’t know how to help her. What does she have to lose letting me try?

  I reach a tentative hand out, slip it under her armor, and rest it on her chest. It’s an odd shape. Like all those represented on her faces mashed their chests together into a big lump. There’s no real form to it under the oxen fur. One of her four wings shift, and she moans as if my touch causes her pain. “Sorry,” I murmur, but I don’t take my hand away.

  Instead, I press a little harder until I can feel a faint thumping against my hand. Her heart. It’s beating but at a slow, non-rhythmic pace. Like it’s struggling to keep going but losing the battle.

  “Can you heal her?” a voice behind me demands to know. I guess patience isn’t a quality this race possesses.

  I ignore the creature speaking to me and continue to focus on the one lying in front of me. What’s causing her heart to beat like this? Closing my eyes, I pull magic. All around me, I feel other magic pulled. Not to join mine. They are all arming themselves in case this goes badly. Which it might.

  My own magic presses into the fallen creature. Burrowing under her wings and fur, through whatever type of skin is hiding under the two, until it’s finally free to explore. Once inside her, my magic spreads rapidly, seeking the source of her pain. Seeking whatever it is that is trying to kill her. I feel her organs working hard to keep her labored breaths from being her last. Her lungs are large and powerful, and she seems to have four of them. Considering her immense size, that makes sense. Two wouldn’t be enough. Her liver is struggling, trying to process her blood as fast as it can. But it’s not able to filter out whatever is making it sluggish and inky. The liver really is doing its best to take her thick blood and cleanse it, but it can’t function properly with the increased workload. The cause of the creature’s imminent demise is becoming clear. I don’t think she’s ill. I think she’s been poisoned.

  I push even more magic into the creature. I seek out her vessels and search them for anything foreign that might be causing her blood to thicken like this. But even with my limited knowledge of what her blood should contain, my magic doesn’t find anything resembling poison coursing through her. Nothing registers as a potential threat.

  Maybe it is a disease, after all? I am about to open my eyes and ask the other creatures if they are prone to certain illnesses, when this creature’s own magic latches onto mine. I struggle against it at first, thinking she’s trying to harm me. But it doesn’t take me long to realize there’s a fragility to her magical grasp. Her touch is tentative, almost like she’s asking for permission. She wants to guide me to the source of the problem. That will certainly make things easier. Relaxing again, I let her magic take the lead.

  We continue to weave through her vessels, the creature’s magic leading me to her heart. It’s a massive, eight chambered wonder of nature. It probably weighs as much as I do. Moving swiftly through the outer chambers, our magic seeks the core, the innermost workings of this gigantic organ. With my magic so close to the pumping source, I can really feel the pressure of her blood moving in and out of it as we go along. It kind of tickles.

  Until my magic rams into something hard and impenetrable. Ow. That did not tickle. That was like a sledgehammer clobbering my magic’s kneecaps. I must have cried out because I hear Kallen shouting my name along with Xavion and Zyla screaming, “Mom!”

  I force my hand that is not touching the creature into the air in a ‘stop’ motion to keep them from rushing over here. “I’m fine,” I grit out.

  Despite my instruction to stay back, I can suddenly feel them right behind me. My children and husband follow directions about as well as I do, apparently. “You do not look fine,” Kallen informs me through his own gritted teeth. I know he is dying to yank me away from creature.

  I shove my free hand in their general direction again in a warning to leave me be. I need to figure out what this wall in the creature’s heart is because it seems to be the source of whatever is trying to shorten her life. At least, I assume her life would be shortened. I don’t get the impression she is dying a natural death due to old age. In fact, this wall of whatever it is doesn’t feel natural at all.

  Disengaging from the creature’s magic, I send my magic out in different directions, looking for a way around it. Whatever it is, the craftsmanship is excellent. It seems impenetrable. I’m almost ready to give up when finally, I find a tiny crack. I push my magic through it and get my first real taste of what is creating the wall.

  I gasp in surprise and my eyes fly open. This magic I recognize. Finding the creature staring up at me, I ask for confirmation. “A Seraphim did this to you?”

  The creature nods and rasps out, “All of us. I am simply the first to feel the lethal effects.”

  “But why?” From what I know of the Seraphim, they avoid getting involved with other races. They avoid interacting at all so as not to affect free will. Genocide seems out of the question for them. Unless…, “Did the Council do this?”

  The creature shakes her head slowly and grimaces. It’s obvious from that tiny movement that her pain is worsening. “No,” she wheezes, her voice barely audible now. The lack of oxygen from decreased blood flow is taking its toll.

  A wave of righteous anger washes over me. Just as I knew that it would be fine to drop our magic so I could help this creature, I know that what the Seraphim did is wrong. These creatures don’t deserve this punishment thrust upon them. So, there’s only one course of action here. Damn the potential consequences. Glancing over my shoulder, I ask, “Anyone want to help me break a Seraphim curse?”

  A hand slaps around my arm and I look down in surprise. Where there was a wing tip a moment ago, the creature now has a human-like hand. One with a tight grip. If she keeps this up, I’ll have another warped humerus. “You will bring war upon yourself with the Seraphim if you do this. You must go. Now,” she warns with what may be the last of her breath.

  Scowling down at her, I scoff, “Apparently, I’m already at war with the Seraphim. Or, at least I will be soon. They seem to have taken it upon themselves to decide who has the right to live and who doesn’t. I happen to believe that no creature in the universe has that right. So, what’s one more thing on the list of why the Seraphim unjustly want
to kill me and my family?”

  “You do not fear the Seraphim?” one of the other creatures asks from where he has been watching me across the cavern. I hear the doubt saturating his voice.

  I raise my eyes to his. “I didn’t say that. The Seraphim are powerful beings, and I’d be a fool not to fear going up against them. But they’ve declared war on me and my family, and we’ll stand together against anyone who threatens us.” I glance down at the fallen creature. “Or who threatens others who are innocent.”

  “Perhaps we deserve this curse the Seraphim have laid upon us,” the creature across the cavern counters. “You know nothing of us. What if we are not who you seem to believe us to be? An act of misguided kindness could turn your just war into an unjust one by setting free those who have committed sins great enough to be punished this way.”

  I stare at the creature a moment before lowering my eyes again to the one inching closer to death as we continue this debate. “Did you deserve this?” I ask her. My internal lie detector stands at attention waiting for her response.

  Her reply is raspy and low. I must strain my ears to hear it. “No.” I wait for the feeling of bugs crawling all over me that would accompany someone telling me a lie. Nothing. She must be telling the truth.

  Shrugging, I bring my eyes back to the other creature. “Looks like our war will still be just.” Before he can argue further, I reach my free hand back to my family. “Zyla, Xavion, I need your help.”

  My children are at my side in an instant. Kallen is with them. I take Zyla’s hand who then grasps her brother’s. Kallen is last in line. It’s the only way he can be a part of this. We can pull on his magic, but he won’t be a conduit for ours. His survival likely depends on this positioning.

  I give my family a nod. The three of them pull magic from the earth below us and push it toward mine. After the initial shock of the burning power racks my body, I grit my teeth and take control. Wow, I thought my magic was wild. My children’s magic is like a crash of hippos frolicking in a river. I’ve never tried herding frolicking hippos, but it bet it feels like this. They make my magic seem domesticated and tame.

  Concentrating as hard as I can, I’m finally able to take the reins of our combined magic. I steer it all toward the wall in the creature’s heart. A wall constructed of pure magic. I figured that out when I traveled through it a moment ago. Finding the fissure I located before, I force our magic into it. The resistance is great, but not great enough. It doesn’t take long for the magical wall to begin to crumble around our combined magic. Eventually, the curse is destroyed, and the wall of magic washes away in a sea of blood. Now unformed, it is harmless to the creature. As the last of it washes away, I can already see her life force growing stronger. She is going to be fine.

  Then I remember that she’s not alone in this. One down, four more to go. Good thing my family has plenty of magic.

  Chapter 8

  By the time we finish with the fifth creature, we’re all exhausted. All I want to do is flop back on the cavern floor and close my eyes. The hard surface would feel like a fluffy pillow perfect for napping right about now. But I don’t do that. Instead, I give both of my children a once over to make sure they’re doing okay after expending so much effort.

  “We’re fine,” Xavion assures me.

  His breathing is a little ragged but not too bad. I can tell he could also use a good twelve or thirteen hours of sleep, but he’s otherwise unfazed by using so much magic. His sister is even less stressed by all this than he is. Her breathing isn’t even labored.

  My husband is a little worse off. “Kallen?” I ask, moving to where he has all but collapsed on the cavern floor. At least he can still sit upright. I take his cheeks in my hand and bring his eyes to mine. His body was ravaged by our magic despite our careful positioning. Being the end of the chain helped, but he’s never had so much magic pulled from him. It’s left him torn up inside. My heart aches looking at the deep shadows in his eyes. “I’ll heal you,” I promise.

  I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Let me,” Keelan says softly. “You’re exhausted.”

  I nod and take a step back. Keelan wanted to help heal the creatures, but I feared combining his magic with Xavion and Zyla’s again. So, I let him do this.

  Keelan kneels next to Kallen and reaches out with healing magic. I pull my lingering hands away and trust him to bring Kallen back to his normal self. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kegan and Alita watching their son with a swell of pride. Well-deserved pride. Keelan’s healing magic is better controlled than Zyla’s or Xavion’s. It only takes a few minutes for Kallen to start feeling better.

  When all the color has returned to my husband’s face and Keelan finally steps back, I rush forward and wrap my arms around Kallen. I didn’t realize how scared I was that we permanently damaged him until now. “I love you. We’ll be more careful in the future,” I promise.

  He wraps his arms around me and hugs me closer. “Whatever it takes to keep you all safe,” he pledges. He pulls back and touches a hand to my cheek. “I love you, too.”

  Our tender moment is rudely interrupted. “You must leave now,” the first creature we healed informs us. “The Seraphim will be returning soon.”

  Since we’re not quite ready to take on the Seraphim yet, that’s excellent advice. I rise to my feet and Kallen follows. Turning to the creature, I ask, “Will you be okay?” She knows I am asking about more than her health. We may not be prepared to fight yet, but we will if they need us.

  “You have done as much as you can, and more than you should,” is the creature’s cryptic but firm reply. “Go home.”

  Wow. All that gratitude is overwhelming. Not to mention the other problem with her statement. I’m about to explain that we’d love to go home, but don’t quite know how, when a portal opens on the other side of the cavern. My mouth doesn’t even have time to form the ‘th’ of thank you before we’re all pushed to the other side of the portal and it snaps closed. We’re all left in a daze staring at nothing but air. Whoever those creatures are, polite and hospitable are not adjectives that will ever be used to describe them.

  “We’re home,” Alita gasps.

  I whirl around taking in our surroundings and see that she’s right. We’re just down the beach from the rest of our family and friends. Right in the spot the kids were standing when they accidently created this mess. How the hell did those creatures know where to send us?

  Whatever realm we were just in, time must move differently. Here no time at all seems to have passed. Down the beach, Dagda is still yelling at the spot where I fell into the chasm. Then again, when the Fairy is on a good rant it can last a while. So, who knows, hours could have passed.

  Dagda’s mouth finally snaps closed when Tana taps him on the shoulder and points in our direction. I sigh when my biological father stomps over the sand toward us. I should have asked Keelan to heal me, too. I have a feeling this conversation is going to take every ounce of energy I can muster, and my tank is close to empty right now. Squaring my shoulders, I prepare myself for the coming temper tantrum.

  “So, anyone have a clue who the hell those creatures were?” Kegan asks out of the corner of his mouth. “I think it is about to come up in conversation.”

  “No,” Kallen replies with a grimace. Glancing at the three kids, he warns, “Stay close. The King is prone to impulsive actions when he is angry.” I believe his concern is more for the King in this scenario than the kids. Dagda is much more likely to get hurt in a standoff. A little detail I will not be bringing up to my biological father. Unless I need to, of course. I do care about his safety.

  Zyla rolls her eyes at her father. “Oh, we know.” I force down a smile. This trait of Dagda’s was passed down to me, and I suspect to my daughter, as well.

  Keelan grimaces and jabs a finger toward the twins. “He sure is. Their seventh birthday party is a good example…oomph!” He is suddenly forced to gasp for air instead of speaking since Xavion just elbowed
him hard in the ribs.

  I give my son a disapproving look. He didn’t need to do it so hard. Xavion shrugs sheepishly. “We’re not supposed to tell you anything about the future.”

  I cock my head and raise my brows. “You could have found a nicer way to stop him from talking,” I point out. Flashes of things I may have done to keep people from talking rush through my mind. I really need to take my own advice now that I’m about to be a mother. Now that I am a mother, I mentally correct.

  That’s all the time we have for conversation before Dagda is upon us. The others are close behind him. The expressions on their faces range from anger like the King to shock to general amusement.