One Thousand Kisses

by One Thousand Kisses

  “And you jumped right into their trap.” Skythia shook him. “Bonehead. I knew you were plotting something, but I had no idea you’d lost your mind. Using the sixth arts? Violating the Policy of Discretion? Conniving with the Drakhmores? Could you have broken more laws?”

  “Yes.” Embor’s teeth clicked as he hissed. They needed a plan, not Skythia’s recriminations. “I could have actually tortured and killed people.”

  “You’ve yet to prove you didn’t.”

  “I shouldn’t have to prove such a thing to you.” In the face of more pressing concerns, her continued indignation surprised him. Had she been told other lies that undermined her faith in him?

  Her fingers bit into his arm. From the near-silent explosions rumbling through the chamber, bringing down tapestries, wood and stone, other Elders must have joined the fight—on both sides. It wasn’t unheard of for spells to slip out like profanities during a debate, but an all-out war hadn’t occurred at Court in centuries.

  “I can’t believe our luck.” Skythia fizzed with suppressed energy even though she was infusig him. “By Hella, we had to swing the Incident, the Drakhmores, that idiocy five years ago, and now this? People are dying out there. You should have warned us you were bringing this down on our heads.”

  “You’re the one who told me to come.” He would have come regardless, once he’d discovered she was on trial. “Should I have let them sevendust you?”

  “By Ka, maybe you should have,” she exclaimed. “I’m so worthless to you that you couldn’t ask me for help in the first place.”

  “When does he ever ask? The trick is to help him anyway.” Anisette grabbed his other hand, inserting herself into the power flow. Her luminous energy washed through him into Skythia, whose spine snapped straight. “Right now we must send the onesies to humanspace and the Torvals to prison. I can confirm everything Embor’s told you.”

  “Ani, I nearly forgot you were hiding behind my brother over there.” Embor sensed Skythia’s jealousy right before she released him. Was that why she was being so emotional? “Welcome to the family.”

  “I’m not hiding. I’m helping.” Anisette released him as well and returned to Gangee, who tended the remaining advisors. “What are you doing?”

  Skythia muttered under her breath about someone’s britches being too big before issuing orders. “Close up ranks. We need a plan.”

  Ambulatory staffers dragged the others closer to Embor. He shrank the barrier, but they couldn’t remain on defense indefinitely. Fight or flight?

  Fight. Flight wasn’t an option. They couldn’t leave the onesies here. Their presence could be catastrophic for everyone—humanity included.

  He had a control globe, he had Anisette’s agony magic, he had his cabinet and his sister, and he had offensive skills of his own. His destructive potential was overkill, though, for an area as densely as populated Capital City.

  The loyal Elders outside the shield were outnumbered and fleeing. The trick might be to defeat the Torvals and their allies first. If he could get rid of the lost ones’ handlers, it would be simpler to relocate the onesies.

  As Embor plotted how to avoid going nova, power surged in a whoosh that nearly broke his concentration. Ice crusted the shield, encasing them in a frozen bubble. The temperature dropped.

  “Great shitting gnome on a stick,” Skythia roared. “Lower the shield and let me at ’em.”

  Not yet. This battle wouldn’t be won by force alone. Embor knelt and placed his hands on the floor, reaching for magic. The flagstones were painfully cold.

  Skythia punched the shield in frustration, cracking the ice. Others began doing the same to clear their view. The Torvals, the security branch and several AOC directors ringed them, all trying to slice through at once.

  Tell me when you need an infusion, Anisette whispered in his mind before turning back to her patients. Embor closed his eyes and focused.

  “I’m going to remember everyone who stood against us,” Skythia yelled, loud enough that the outsiders could hear. She gripped his shoulder and started reciting the names of Elders to him in a furious chant.

  With so many spells flying, the supply of natural magic waned. Skythia was infusing him from herself instead of serving as a conduit.

  Don’t give me everything, he told her.

  I’m no martyr, she snarled in his head. Hurry up and suggest a plan so I can shoot it down. I want to pound somebody.

  Sonja’s voice at his other shoulder, a touch on his arm. “Primaries, we’re going to brownout the district. We’ll be reduced to fighting with fists.” He heard the crack of her knuckles.

  “Good equalizer,” Skythia agreed. “Loosen the shield and let’s fight.”

  Another barrage of energy pounded the barrier. Magic stuttered, reduced to dregs. Capital City, with its high concentration of Fey, was prone to brownouts anyway.

  Embor opened his eyes. Outside the bubble, Euridyce appeared, a gun aimed at two lost ones. Their youthful faces were terrified, and their raised hands trembled. One was an overweight youth, the other a brunette girl. An older man with thinning hair trailed behind them and seemed more curious than apprehensive.

  “Get me in there. I don’t care how.” Ophelia gestured at the shield, ordering the onesies forward. To her right, Warran iced an assailant while Artur reloaded his gun.

  “She’s trying to make the loons do magic,” Skythia exclaimed. “That bitch is as nuts as a Yeti.”

  Skythia wasn’t the only one questioning Ophelia. An AOC director, waving her hands, dashed toward the Elder. “This is not the way, Elder Torval. This goes against everything we agreed on.”

  Ophelia backhanded the woman, black power accompanying her blow. The boy broke for the exit, and Euridyce shot him in the back.

  Anisette let out a little scream. The crack of the gunshot pierced Embor’s shield in a way none of the offensive spells had managed. Either that or his concentration had flagged. Euridyce took aim at the girl.

  The young woman burst into tears. Before Euridyce could fire, the balding man spoke in the agent’s ear. Artur and another AOC director began arguing with them too. Ignored, the brunette inched toward the shield, her wide eyes meeting Embor’s.

  Help, she mouthed. She reached the barrier and held up her hands, surrendering. Help us.

  Beside him, Anisette inhaled. Her protective instincts bled through their bond. The girl, practically a child, had brown eyes and a tear-streaked face. Was she a decoy?

  “Ah, shit.” Skythia punched the barrier in frustration. “Even that poor kid knows better than to work magic here. We have to do something.”

  Ulster and Mikhal Torval steered the remaining lost ones toward the shield. Any resisting Elders had been subdued, and the Torvals’ group seemed to be the only ones left in the damaged chamber.

  Embor hadn’t noticed a single director pushing the onesies to dangerous acts. Not that it reduced their culpability, but it was a potential wedge to drive between his enemies. Did the AOC rule Warran and Ophelia, or had the Torvals wrested control?

  Anisette nibbled her fingertip, flinching when furniture crashed into their dome. “If we all had transport globes, we could each touch a lost one and steal them.”

  Sonja nodded. “The numbers are roughly even. Fourteen of us, eleven of them.”

  “Leave the Torvals for me and Embor. We’re staying.” Skythia stretched, brushing the zenith of the defensive shield. “It’s clobbering time.”

  The brunette started crying and mashed against the barrier like it would protect her.

  Warran stormed toward the girl. As he passed his sister, Ophelia snatched her brother’s arm.

  The atmosphere droned with power depletion. Ophelia flung an air spell at the barrier, wind buffeting Embor’s resolve. Anisette supported him while he strained to outlast it. Not much magic left. The lights began to flicker.

  The young woman, unfortunately, was too close. The cyclone twisted into her, and her body flew across the room.


  Anisette lurched forward. “Oh my goodness.”

  Warran pointed at Embor, yelling at his group. “Get me through that shield or the deal’s off.”

  Euridyce turned her gun on the onesies.

  Artur turned his gun on her. “The lost ones mustn’t open themselves to magic. This has gone too far.”

  The balding man ignored Artur and stuck his fingers in his ears. Another director, a fairy of considerable girth, hauled back his fist to strike the onesie, but Ophelia flicked him aside with wind. His stout body tumbled across the floor.

  Artur pivoted and shot at Ophelia. The lights sparked out, dropping the chamber into darkness.

  “Brownout.” Sonja’s voice echoed hollowly in their pocket of safety, and someone chanted a prayer to the spirits. “Here we go.”

  But it wasn’t a brownout. Embor could still fuel his barriers. Something else was happening.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The air began to sing, a knifelike whine. All around Ani, Embor’s staff collapsed, moaning and cursing. She clung to her bondmate, using his steadiness to keep herself upright. It felt like her brain was being turned inside out. Everyone’s hormones displayed panic and fear except one person, outside the shield.

  “The lost one,” she said, raising her voice over everyone’s harsh breathing. “He’s using magic.”

  “Stop him at all costs.” Embor dragged Ani close and dropped the shield.

  Too late.

  An explosion rocked the Court complex. The floor shuddered. The ceiling crumpled in. Embor threw up his arm along with a deflector shield, covering friend and foe alike, right before marble slabs pounded into it.

  Ani protected her head with her hands, knowing it wouldn’t help if the shield failed. Shouts and cries, near and far. A few shields supplemented Embor’s, desperate and wobbly. Transportation magic popped on all sides as fairies capable of it escaped and took their companions with them.

  Embor trembled beneath the rocks and magical depletion. Ani pressed her lips to his neck and infused him with so much power he heated like a forge. He heaved the deflector up, sending the broken stonework crashing down the sides.

  Hunks of ceiling boomed into the floor. Sirens wailed throughout the complex.

  “He ripped a new ring.” Ani patted Embor’s chest, checked his pulse.

  “It’s bigger than the rings in Vegas combined.” Embor exhaled, his temperature decreasing. “Are you all right?”

  “How could the Torvals be so greedy, risking everyone’s lives for political gain?” Anger stirred inside her as she considered the ramifications of their ambition.

  “Because they’re Torvals,” Embor said.

  Wind, heavy dust. Flashes of fire and power. The pallid light of unstable magic pouring into the earth like magma.

  It wasn’t a ring. It was a crater. A tear in the world’s fabric so huge, she could almost see humanspace through it.

  On the plus side, it was pulling magic from the whole area. The chamber was no longer devoid of power. That was the only plus.

  Lightning flashed, brilliant and sudden. Embor frowned.

  “Skythia’s fighting someone.” He hauled Ani up, and they checked their companions. Gangee tended a man with a crushed skull. Nearby, Sonja knelt over Artur’s body. Ani didn’t know if she was helping Artur or was the reason he was unconscious. Hormones flickered above the rubble, fairies in need of assistance.

  But none flickered as brightly as Warran Torval. The Elder was at the other end of the room, hurling rock, hunting for something. Ani’s view was partially blocked by a section of buckled dome.

  She directed Embor’s attention. Warran was alone and distracted. They might not get a better chance. “There’s Warran. We could overpower him.” Her hands tingled as the notion took hold. “If you can get me close enough to touch him…”

  “Soon.” Ani could sense the fire racing through Embor’s veins. “Right now we have bigger concerns.”

  He was right. They didn’t have time for Warran unless the other man forced the issue. If they couldn’t get the lost ones to humanspace, there’d be no elections, no Court, no revenge and no Realm.

  She created a globe, brilliant and glowing, and flung it into the air. It wobbled, barely resisting the magnetism of the ring. Then she made several more, illuminating the destruction in the session chamber and the fairies trying to escape.

  “Embor, I see them.” Three onesies, helping each other, limped over a heap. Colors swam around their bodies. “They’re not handling this well. Their hormones are chaotic. They’re frightened, full of magic. Can you transport them out?”

  “Where to?” Embor asked. “The Drakhmores were imprisoned, so they aren’t waiting in Ellsmen to send the onesies through to Jake.”

  Lemmar Stonehaus appeared beside them. “I’ll take them through a ring.”

  “This is a ring,” she reminded the men after another glance at Warran. “Transport them here.”

  “We have no idea where this opens,” Embor said. “It’s morphing so fast we can’t assume it will work like other rings.”

  Ring science wasn’t Ani’s specialty, and she had no ether. The ring practically engulfed the chamber. The earth groaned its resistance. Magic boiled in a maelstrom, unreliable and wild. It wasn’t safe here.

  “How about green ring?” she suggested. “Like we planned.”

  Embor nodded. “Jake and Talista can handle them. Lemmar?”

  “I’m on it.” Lemmar vaulted over crumbled stone and a few bodies to reach the young fairies.

  Embor struggled to force-transport them, finally shoving them free. Magic hissed like a teapot when they blinked into between-space, interrupting Warran’s search. He locked gazes with Ani through the murk.

  She bit back the urge to shriek—like a harpy, not a frightened child. Gangee had given her a few tips on agony magic as they’d healed the cabinet. Warran deserved to be her testing ground.

  The Elder smiled the same cold smile she’d grown to dislike before any of this had happened. Dust marred his tailored tunic and beard.

  “I see you’ve brought me my bride, Fiertag.”

  Without so much as an acknowledgement, Embor blasted fire through the intervening space and engulfed Warran. The flames burned incandescent, melting stones and crackling the air. Ani could feel it from here.

  When Embor made a fist, she heard the other man scream.

  She punched Embor’s arm. “You can’t kill him. You can’t be like him.”

  With a curse, Embor released the blaze. Warran cringed inside a cocoon of ice that burst into steam. He rallied with a pile drive of frigid air that slammed into Embor and Ani.

  It hit like a wall. Some of Ani’s hair froze before Embor whipped up a shield. His ire, his temperature, increased each moment Warran sustained the current. He shook his head, melting his hair and clothing.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  Her teeth chattered. If she clung to Embor, she’d burn. If she didn’t, she’d freeze. “Getting angrier.”

  At me? said Embor’s voice in her head.

  At the situation. She used water magic to remove the ice from her lashes. Indignation blazed in her cheeks. I changed my mind. You can kill him a little.

  I’ll have to switch to a battle shield, he warned. That increases our risk.

  I know. Many fairies were still in the chamber, buried under rubble or helping those trapped. They couldn’t drag this out with lives at stake.

  Embor compressed the shield so it curved in front but left the rear open. The icy air tightened into needles. They tinkled like bells in a mounting crescendo until they pinged off the edge into Ani’s skin, drawing fine dots of blood.

  As her bondmate melted the ice, a tug of magic lurched through Ani’s body. Someone was trying to relocate her.

  She grabbed Embor, hissing when her palms baked. Between-space loomed around her, and she felt the new ring sucking her in. “Someone’s trying to transport me through th
e ring. Close the shield.”

  “Can he run two spells at once? Blast that devil.” Embor dove into her consciousness and seized the thread of transport magic. Following it back, he launched a firebomb through between-space at Warran.

  The icy rain ceased when Embor’s spell hit, causing a small detonation. The rocks where Warran had been glowed red and smoky. The earth continued to complain and the magic to swirl. Ani spared a thought for Skythia, somewhere in combat.

  “Your sister?” she asked.

  “Chasing down AOC directors.” His brow furrowed. “Enjoying herself far too much.”

  “Warran’s still here.” She squinted through the blurry shield. “I see his hormones and another set too.”

  “You need to go. Take Gangee and Sonja and find Skythia.”

  She massaged her hands and thought about that tingle. Thought about Gangee’s sixty-second lesson in agony magic. Thought about Warran and Ophelia and how angry, how very angry, she was. “I’m with you.”

  “I can handle him. He doesn’t know I’m stronger now.” Embor released his shield, preparing to go on the offensive. “People are wounded. You’re needed elsewhere.”

  “I’m needed here.” Ani inspected the room. The sizzle of magic gushing through the rift, obvious now after so much tumult, unnerved her.

  Embor hmmed. “Where do you see his essence?”

  She pointed at the mound of rubble that had been Warran’s original target.

  As if her gesture had awakened a beast, the wreckage heaved. Stones whistled through the intervening space like cannon balls. Embor threw up a barrier.

  The impact shoved them back. Ani fell. Rock thudded into the shield so violently it rattled her teeth.

  “That’s not Warran,” she warned. He hoisted her up, tense and alert. “That’s air.”

  Boom!

  From behind, gale force winds flung them like dolls into Embor’s shield. Ani hit with a bruising crunch and landed in a sprawl.

  She hissed with pain. Her shoulder burned. Dislocated. Could she heal herself? She needed that arm.

  Embor rolled into a crouch. The barrier deflecting the rocks remained stable but left them vulnerable to Ophelia.