“I think your sister pulled a fast one on you. There’re two of them.”
He folded his arms as if he were cold, or in pain, or both. He didn’t say anything, but I figured he was thinking the same thing as me.
We were screwed.
Chapter 20
The rain came back like God ordered a second flood.
I stood and sent a few curses skyward. Sheets of water pelted me, and the stinging pain in my chest and arms reminded me that I still needed to heal myself from the burns I’d sustained. If that was even possible. I’d always had Ian or Akila to do it for me.
“We have to get out of this.” A violent whole-body sneeze sent me stumbling and punctuated the urgency of escaping the elements. “Any ideas?”
“Not in particular.”
Thunder pounded over the tail end of his statement. I blinked some of the rain out of my eyes and tried to look around. There were a lot of trees. A blinding flash of light burst almost directly over us. For half a second I thought about how I’d never seen lightning so close before.
In the next half, I was facedown on the ground, feeling like someone had swung a baseball bat into my back. And then zapped me with five or six Tasers at once.
“Apprentice!”
I barely heard Calvin’s shout. My ears felt plugged—or maybe shattered—and I smelled something burning. Not a single muscle wanted to move.
Jesus Christ. Save a Morai and get struck by lightning. What a fun curse this was.
Calvin rolled me over, and I yelled something incoherent when the motion hammered pins and needles through every inch of my body.
“You’re alive,” he said.
I glared at him. “Lucky me,” I muttered, moving my mouth as little as possible.
“Can you walk?”
“Ugh.” I curled and uncurled a hand. It hurt, but at least it responded. Groaning, I boosted myself up on my elbows and managed to sit. “Not much choice there,” I said. “Unless you’re gonna carry me.” I stared at my feet. Something wasn’t right there. Finally, my spinning head put it together—the toe of my left boot had blown out, and shreds of charred sock poked through.
I never knew lightning left exit wounds.
Calvin held out a hand. I sighed, took it, and let him help me on my feet. “There’re a few caves not far from here,” he said. “Come on.”
I limped after him up a slight incline and into a crumbling slit, curtained by tree roots, in the mountain. By the time we pushed inside, most of the buzzing sensation had dissipated and I merely ached everywhere.
The cave was completely closed in. Even with the changes in my vision, I could only see about six inches of lighter blackness in front of me. And I’d left the spare flashlight on the ground at the monastery. “Got a light?” I said.
A ball of blue flame blossomed in Calvin’s hand. He stared at me, half smirking. “I must say, I’ve never known anyone who was struck by lighting before. Does God not like you?”
“Not especially,” I mumbled, barely registering his words. I was busy gaping at the cave walls.
Someone had had a lot of time on his hands. I was guessing Barzan. Djinn writing covered the walls, marked in heavy charcoal black and a dark, inky substance that used to be blood. I couldn’t read it, but it still creeped me out. I doubted he’d been recording his mother’s recipes for mouse pie, or whatever the Morai liked to eat back home.
Calvin followed my gaze. When he noticed, his mouth opened wide enough to drive a train through. “I knew he was mad,” he said. “But I’d never suspected how much.”
“So what’s it say? Besides ‘Beware the deceiver.’ ”
He gaped at me. “How did you know?”
“We found a little of this when we … uh, set Barzan free. But it was mostly smudged out.”
“I see.” His lips thinned for an instant. “Most are protection spells. Wards and seals. But it does say ‘Beware the deceiver’ several times. And there’s something else. Here.” He carried the floating flame ball closer to a wall and ran a finger across a series of symbols that repeated itself several times. “ ‘He of two worlds will destroy all.’ ”
“That’s it?”
Calvin nodded.
I threw my hands up. “Great. Let’s play ‘Which descendant does the crazy guy mean?’ It could be any of them. Some warning. Doesn’t any of this stuff say anything …” I blinked. He was looking at me like I’d just confessed to being Jack the Ripper. “What?”
“Perhaps he doesn’t mean the Morai scions,” he said. “There’s only one of you.”
“Oh, come on! Do I look dangerous to you? Besides, I never even met this guy until—”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay. You got me there. But like I said, I’d never seen this guy before, so he couldn’t have meant me.”
Calvin looked less than convinced. He whispered something and moved his hand away from the flaming ball. It stayed hovering in the air. “You should heal yourself,” he said. “Those burns look painful.”
“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly transform. But I’ll try the healing thing, I guess.”
“Try?”
I shrugged. “I’m not very precise with healing. When I have to do it, I pretty much run on instinct. It usually works. I’ve just … never done it on myself.”
“I see.” He folded his arms. “Didn’t Gahiji-an teach you how to focus a healing spell?”
“I didn’t think you could do that. Ian doesn’t seem to know how, anyway.”
“But you can still use healing magic? Interesting.”
I wasn’t sure I liked this conversational direction. “What’s interesting?”
“Nothing, really. A stray thought.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “If you like, I’ll explain healing focus. There’s too much to cover at once, but I’ll give you the basics.”
I still wanted to know what was interesting, but I’d let it pass for now. If this guy was anything like Ian, he’d tell me when he was damned good and ready. “Go for it,” I said.
He nodded. “The body contains energy points. Each is associated with different aspects of life, health, and soul. The strongest of these points are located at the base of the spine and the throat. It helps to know which point controls the area you’re trying to heal, but in general these two are sufficient. Understand so far?”
“Yes. Wait … no.”
“All right,” he sighed. “By way of an example, your burns. Skin and muscle are linked to the throat base point. So you would focus the healing spell on that point and draw it down through the body to the damaged area. Like threading a needle.”
“I think I get it.” Maybe not exactly everything, but I figured it’d be clearer when I actually tried it. “Okay. Here goes.”
I held a hand out flat just above my throat, just like Ian usually did. It might’ve been instinctual for him—but maybe he knew more about healing than he’d bothered to tell me. That wouldn’t be much of a shocker.
My own magic came easily enough, and with the expected pain. I looked down and tried to visualize directing what I had there. Heal. I blinked once. A brief afterimage showed a bright spot right at my breastbone, so I closed my eyes to see if it would help.
The energy point glowed like a beacon behind my eyelids, a warm and pulsating red. Part of me wondered why I could see so much better without actually looking, while the rest carried on channeling the spell through the red light. The usual searing pain that accompanied all my attempts at magic lessened and left my thoughts clear. I had no trouble drawing the spell through myself, guiding it through my chest and arms. I could feel skin coming together and knitting itself whole.
I pulled back and opened my eyes. “Holy hell.”
Calvin stared at me. “Holy hell, indeed,” he said. “You learn quickly, Donatti.”
“Something like that.” I cleared my throat and turned aside. This little exercise brought up a whole new wave of questions.
But before I could ask any o
f them, I was plunged abruptly back into the Ian Horror Show.
Burning. No flames, no smoke, but his body was burning all the same. There were too many broken bones to count. The wisp of consciousness Ian had left repeated two words in an uneven stream: Kill me kill me killmekillmekillme kill. me. Killme.
A cold shock doused the fire and awakened new pain—saltwater on open wounds. Swollen eyelids pried apart to reveal a blurred sliver, a glimpse of a hood. Cracked and bleeding lips parted in a snarl.
“Rayan.” Calvin’s voice, mocking and cruel. “We have a task for you.”
“Khalyn … fool.” Raw sound, barely forming words. “I will do nothing. For you.”
Vaelyn laughed and didn’t correct the mistaken identity. Of course she wouldn’t. This hurt him more. “It is a small matter. We desire a child of royal blood, and you will impregnate one of our choosing. In two days’ time you will begin.”
“Will not touch … Morai whore.”
“Your reward will be your destruction.”
I felt him consider it, beg for it in silence. Please destroy me. Please. “You cannot.”
Another laugh. “We know who holds your tether. It will be delivered to us when he comes for you. And he will come.”
No. Donatti … A shudder wracked him.
“When the time arrives, you will give. Or we will take, and take, and take for all eternity, and you will live in agony while your seed burns this realm into oblivion.”
White-hot pain exploded in his wrists and ankles, his head. His screams drove me out.
I opened my eyes with a gasp. Cold stone floor beneath me. Calvin hovering above me, his face pinched with concern. “I can hear them,” I said. “And I don’t think they know.” The storm outside the cave slacked off while the one inside raged on.
“I won’t help you,” Calvin said again. “You pulled me from the fire, and I thank you for that, but I would have survived. And you’re still his apprentice. Still a murdering thief.” He paused for a breath. “As for Gahiji-an, I believe you humans have stated my feelings for him best. I wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire.”
“He is on fire, you son of a bitch.” My hands clenched and unclenched, longing to crack his jaw. I considered putting a bullet in him for shits and giggles. Hell, like he said, he’d survive. “Your freak show of a sister likes her flame curses. All you Morai do.”
“All Morai are not the same!”
“I thought that for a few minutes. But you’re changing my mind.”
He whirled on me. “All right, apprentice. Let’s play your master’s game.” A cold smile settled on his face. “Give me a reason. Why should I help you?”
“Because—” Damn. I couldn’t think of one. Technically, he didn’t owe me anything except half a pint of blood, and I didn’t want that back. He didn’t know me, didn’t know Ian or Tory, and apparently didn’t care what his sister did as long as she left him out of it. I shuffled back through the last few torturous days and seized on the one thing he’d seemed interested in. “Your scion theories,” I said. “Whatever they are. You can test them.”
“With you?” He managed to make you sound like the most disgusting creature to have plagued the earth since Attila the Hun.
“Yeah, with me. I don’t see any other scions volunteering for the job.”
It took him a minute to reply. “Tempting, but no.”
“Why not?”
“Many reasons. Not the least of which is the trifling matter of your tendency to kill any Morai you come across.”
“I haven’t killed you. Yet.”
“And there you go proving my point.”
I stifled a breath that would’ve been a scream. “Fine.” I’d have to try the subtle approach. Unfortunately, I possessed all the subtlety of a goon with a pipe wrench. “Can you at least tell me about your theories?”
He shrugged and looked away, but not before I caught the gleam in his eyes.
“Come on, I’m curious. Why is it interesting that I can use healing magic?”
“Because it’s not instinctive, except to the Bahari. Transformation is instinct, but that type of healing is basically a side effect of shifting form.” His sigh suggested he’d just lost some internal battle. “You’re a Dehbei scion. You shouldn’t have been able to heal anyone before you learned how it worked—and even once you knew, it should have been harder than it was for you just now.”
“So why could I do it before, then?”
“I don’t know. However, it does fit with my theory.” “And that’d be?”
He frowned. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“Why? Do you really think I’m going to learn this big secret and then destroy you or something?”
“Yes.”
His soft, drawn tone sent a shock through me. That wasn’t sarcasm. He was actually afraid of me. Me, the bumbling idiot who’d been a half step away from getting myself and Ian killed a hundred times in the past year, who could barely squash a spider without an ocean’s worth of guilt, who’d probably obliterated half of my own soul because every time my hand was forced and I had to kill or be killed, a piece of me died with my victim.
For the first time, I considered what I must have seemed to him—Ian’s partner in slaughter, his willing trainee. The mad prince’s lackey. The Slayer’s apprentice. Nausea knotted my gut, and I drew a deep breath to try and ease it. “Look, man,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I hate destroying anyone, human or djinn. I never wanted any of this. But with your clan trying to kill me and Ian every time I turn around, and the whole ham’tari thing, it’s been hard to get around.”
His eyes widened a bit. “What ham’tari … thing?”
“You don’t know?” I held back a minute, not sure why I’d thought it was common knowledge to the djinn. But it made sense that it wasn’t. Obviously, it was a dirty spell, and that bastard Kemosiri wouldn’t have bragged about using it. Ian probably didn’t want anyone to know either. He’d only told me to make me stop nagging him about destroying Calvin. But if telling him would convince him to help me get Ian the hell out of the compound, I’d risk Ian’s eternal bitching and moaning. “I’m not entirely clear on everything,” I said slowly. “Basically, Kemosiri—you know who he is, right?”
Calvin made a disgusted sound. Yeah, he knew.
“So Kemosiri laid this curse on Ian’s father to force him to wipe out the Morai. His father was killed, and the curse got passed on to Ian. And since I’m his descendant, I get echoes of it. I’ve had shitty luck all my life. I guess it’s because of the ham’tari.” I looked at my feet, suddenly feeling like I was stuck in a confessional booth with glass walls. “The only time things have gone right for me was after I met Ian, when we started going after your clan together. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. But if Ian dies, I get the whole curse. And I have a son.”
I waited. Calvin didn’t say anything. His expression had gone blank.
“Don’t you get it?” I said. “Come on. You’ve seen it yourself. I pulled you from a fire and got struck by lightning. That wasn’t God. It was the damned curse.”
He frowned. “That was definitely unusual.”
“No shit. And besides,” I said, “I don’t think I could hurt you even if I wanted to. You’re two thousand years old. I’m just a watered-down descendant, ten times removed.”
“You have more power than you realize.”
I snorted. “Yeah. You should see what I can do with a sneaker.”
“You don’t understand.” With a tired gesture, Calvin sat on the nearest rock. “Djinn grow more powerful as we age, but our life spans are a bit longer than yours. And our magic is drawn from the djinn realm. We are limited here, weakened by our tethers and the spells that bind us to them.” He looked at me. “I believe the reverse holds for scions.”
“I don’t get it.”
“The power still builds with time,” he said. “But because human lives are shorter, it builds along the line of descent, rather t
han the individual. Each generation of scion has greater potential power than the last.”
I started to laugh that idea off. But then I remembered Cy, and how he could control his invisibility already. At three years old. I didn’t recall much of my childhood, but I knew the nuns at the orphanage would’ve burned me at the stake or something if I’d ever vanished in front of them. “Okay. I might buy that,” I said. “But why are your sister’s goons so much stronger than me? I mean, they’ve gotta be first generation, second at best.”
“Because magic adapts. The power of the early generations, the first scions who are direct children of a djinn and a human, still comes largely from the source tied to the djinn realm. And those with Vaelyn have been trained to use it by a djinn, one who, regrettably, knows almost as much as I do about how our magic works.” A pained expression crossed his face. “But later generations—your generation—are almost entirely dependent on earth magic. The further along you are in the line of descent, the more power you draw from this realm. From the earth itself.”
“Uh-huh. You know, most people would disagree that there’s any magic on earth. Outside of Disney World and the Bermuda Triangle, that is.”
“There is power here. Vast, untapped power. Humans have forgotten how to use it.” He flashed a small smile. “When we first came to your realm, magic was embraced. There were human sorcerers then, with talent and skill that rivaled our own.”
“Oh, Christ. Sorry,” I said. “Ian tried to feed me this line. Merlin and Rasputin and shit. Urban legends.”
Calvin’s brow lifted. “Most legends begin in fact. Anyway, this handful of black sorcerers, along with the actions of my so-called brothers, served to make humans fear magic. The world turned away from it, and it was forgotten. That’s why later-generation scions have trouble accessing their power. For you, wielding djinn magic is difficult. Painful. Am I correct?”
“You could say that.”
He nodded. “But learn to use earth magic, to tap into the power your brothers have turned from, and you will equal—or even exceed—the power of a djinn in your realm. You in particular, apprentice.”
Master and Apprentice Page 18
