Magic Revealed (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker Book 3)

by Linsey Hall

  I polished off the last of the muffin and espresso, then reached into the back seat and grabbed my puffy winter jacket. Just thinking about what we were heading into made me shiver. Roarke grabbed his own jacket, and I followed him out of the car.

  As we hurried across the street, he reached for my hand. My fingertips curled around his as sparks shot up my arm.

  “Are you doing all right?” he asked.

  From his tone of voice, he clearly didn’t mean, “Have you had enough for breakfast?” or anything similarly inane.

  “Yeah.” Actually, I was scared to death of what I might learn about my family. About myself.

  “Liar.”

  I laughed softly. “Fine. I’m scared. That fortress is a terrible place. So cold and horrible. Not just because it’s in those icy mountains. I can feel it. And there were Phantoms there. Full-blooded Phantoms.”

  “You’re half Phantom, so it’s not surprising they would be there.”

  “I know. But they’re terrible creatures.” I had a really bad feeling about my parents. I needed to know more, but I didn’t think I wanted to.

  “But you’re not terrible,” Roarke said.

  “High praise.”

  He stopped, turning me to him. I met his gaze.

  “I believe in you, Del.” His voice was serious.

  I wanted to crack a joke, but couldn’t. He really did believe in me. He believed in me so much that he’d given up what he held most dear—abiding by the law. He should have turned me in to the Order of the Magica or dragged me back to hell. But he hadn’t. Instead, he was at my side.

  As much as I doubted myself sometimes—my dragon sense, my ability to control new powers—he didn’t doubt me. Neither did my deirfiúr.

  That alone gave me strength.

  I smiled at him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “Thank you, Roarke.” I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Now let’s go kick some butt.”

  He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

  I stepped back and headed for the alley, pulling my little vial of potion from my pocket. Roarke did the same. We met each other’s gazes, then pulled the corks out of the vials.

  I held mine up. “Cheers.”

  He clinked his against mine, then we both swigged the bright blue liquid.

  I gagged, forcing myself to swallow the disgusting, mud-flavored liquid. I’d never eaten mud, but I was one thousand percent sure this was what it tasted like.

  Cold flowed through me, like when I turned into a Phantom. But the numbness that followed was unusual.

  I reaching for Roarke’s hand, and we stepped in front of the Underpath entrance. I couldn’t see it, but we’d used it enough that I knew just where to stand. Fortunately, Roarke had created and Underpath entrance at the fortress in Wales, so we’d be able to get right in.

  “Ready?” Roarke asked.

  “Like a cat’s ready for tuna.”

  Hand in hand, we stepped through the Underpath entrance. The ether sucked me in, and my head spun like a merry-go-round. Gravity lost all meaning for the briefest moment, then we stepped out into the cold, bright light of the Welsh morning.

  I tensed, gaze darting around for enemies, but saw no one. No Phantoms. We must have killed them all.

  “We’re alone,” Roarke said.

  “Good.” I trusted Connor’s potion, but there were other ways for supernaturals to sense a person.

  The fortress’s grand, main entrance loomed on the left. I’d guess that it had been the formal visitor’s entrance to my parents’ home, though it was honestly hard to think of such a cold place as a home. But that way led straight down into the throne room.

  Beside the main entrance was the winding path that led to the back of the compound. It had called to me on our last visit and still did.

  I pointed toward it. “That way. I think it’s the living quarters.”

  Roarke nodded and set off down the stone path. The cold wind nipped at my cheeks as we hurried along. The massive exterior wall soared to our left and buildings to our right.

  Roarke hiked a thumb toward them. “Any of these have potential?”

  “No.” I felt nothing from them, though memories hovered at the edges of my mind. “We have to go to the tower.”

  It loomed ahead, like something Rapunzel would want to jump out of. The tower called to me, and I wasn’t sure if it was my dragon sense or just my desire to visit the only place I remembered.

  “I’m so tempted to bring this place back to life,” I murmured. “Just to see what was here.”

  Roarke reached for my hand and squeezed.

  We were nearly to the tower when a shuffling noise made me stiffen.

  I nudged Roarke and he nodded. We pressed ourselves against the wall, standing dead still and silent.

  A moment later, a demon appeared at the end of the path.

  So some of the demons could get past the barrier. Not good.

  I filed the information away for later.

  The demon ambled down the walk, his big steps landing hard on the stone. He was the pale gray of an ice demon, the same type I’d stolen my power from.

  I met Roarke’s gaze and mouthed, I’ve got this.

  He nodded once, and I turned back to the demon. As he approached, his eyes never swayed toward us, even though we stood right out in the open.

  Clearly, Connor’s potion worked.

  I called upon my ice power. Hit him with a shot of his own medicine. I was almost fully charged for a massive icicle when his step faltered. He was still about twenty feet away, but his nose twitched.

  My heart jumped in my chest. He smelled us.

  The demon opened his mouth to shout. I had no more time, so I hurled the icicle, aiming straight for his head. It pierced him through the eye. Blood spurted around the white spear, a grisly sight.

  The demon was dead in an instant, keeling over onto his front. The icicle shattered against the stone.

  “Nicely done,” Roarke murmured.

  “Thanks.” I hurried to the body and knelt, patting him down to see if he had any transportation charms or other useful goodies. I found nothing.

  Annoyed, I stood. He was already starting to disappear, thank magic. The pathway was so barren that there wasn’t anywhere good to hide him.

  “Hopefully he’ll be gone before anyone stumbles across him,” Roarke said.

  I knocked on my head, then started toward the tower that had once held me prisoner.

  We reached the base a few moments later, and I tilted my head back, peering up. The slick gray stone would have made it impossible for anyone to climb the tower.

  The perfect prison.

  I walked around the side and found the wooden door, then tried to push it open. It stuck fast. I stepped back and studied it, noting the carving of a hand near the handle.

  Tentatively, I laid my palm in the indentation. Nothing happened. Just the faint fizz of the charm that had been placed on the door.

  “Let me.” Roarke laid his hand where mine had been, then removed it. “The charm is keyed up to a certain person.”

  “My parents, most likely.” The thought made my heart clutch.

  “I’ll take care of it.” Roarke pulled his fist back and slammed it through the door. Magic vibrated out from the blow, and the wood disintegrated, falling to the ground as sawdust.

  “Nice,” I murmured, then hurried up the stairs.

  The steps were narrow as they wound up, the sort that would keep attackers from easily swinging their sword as they climbed. This would have been the retreat of last resort during an attack.

  Had my parents been trying to protect me by keeping me in here?

  Somehow, I doubted it.

  I reached the top where another wooden door blocked my way. This one opened to my touch, however, and I slipped inside.

  Memories slammed into me as soon as I stepped across the familiar threshold. I didn’t even have to bring this place back to life—the memories came, unbidden. />
  I was thirteen again, standing with my sword at my side. My skills were improving, but I still wasn’t good enough. My magic… That languished.

  Slowly, I turned to face the door. Instead of Roarke, my parents stood there. They were both tall and slender, with hawk-like appearances that were more a product of their bearing than their actual physical appearance.

  They were birds of prey in human form. Even their dark eyes looked like they were constantly searching for their next target.

  “Mother? Father? What brings you here?” Though I spoke, the words weren’t mine. They were the words of my younger self.

  I was having some kind of surreal flashback—like I’d morphed with my younger self—though why it delivered me to this moment, I had no idea.

  “Delphine.” My mother stepped into the room but didn’t approach any closer. Her eyes traveled over me, assessing.

  Finding me wanting.

  My heart fell, the most visceral sensation of grief.

  I’d seen her so infrequently in my life, but every time… Every single time… I’d hoped that she might suddenly change.

  She did not change.

  She would never change.

  “You’re going away,” she said.

  “Away?” My heart leapt, then fell, the confused organ having no idea how to interpret my mother’s expression.

  My father stepped in beside her. Another man followed, one I hadn’t realized was there. At first, I was confused. Then I recognized him. Horror opened a pit in my stomach, and my soul felt like it fell out of my body.

  The Monster.

  I hadn’t realized who he was when I was younger, but now—oh, my older self recognized this man who’d imprisoned Cass, Nix, and me.

  “Who is he?” my younger self asked.

  “This is a man who will help,” my father said. “You haven’t come into your powers because of your fear and your doubt. You are weak, but you must not be.”

  “You have a role to play in the great uprising,” my mother said. “We depend upon you. Without you, the demons will fail. You must come into your powers.”

  “What?” My shocked gaze traveled between them. I’d known they had great plans for me, but not the extent of them. What did all this mean?

  “You must go with this man now,” my mother said.

  My gaze darted to his face. His expression was so cold that it chilled the entire room. I stepped back. “No, I don’t want to.”

  Run! I screamed inside my mind. I couldn’t bear to watch my parents give me to this man. This monster.

  “You will go.” My mother’s voice cracked like a whip.

  No! I screamed it. Over and over and over again. The world lost its color and its texture.

  “Del! Wake up, Del!” Roarke gripped my shoulders gently, shaking me.

  I gasped, opening my eyes. I stood in the room, but I was no longer in the past. It was just Roarke and me. Panting, I tried to get my bearings.

  “What was it?” Roarke asked. “Are you all right.”

  No. No, I wasn’t all right.

  And now I realized why I’d suddenly regained my memory at this single point in my life—it was the worst moment of my existence. The very worst moment of my life.

  Chapter Nine

  It didn’t take long for the chill air to drive away my panic attack. That was in the past. I had survived it. Even though my parents had given me to the Monster. Willingly.

  But I had come out stronger. I had Cass and Nix, who I wouldn’t have had otherwise.

  I’d endure anything to have them by my side.

  I sucked in a shuddering breath and met Roarke’s concerned gaze. I smiled, going for reassuring but probably stopping somewhere closer to only moderately freaked out.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Totally. I just had a flashback. It wasn’t great, but I’m fine.” I glanced out the window. The sun was heading for the horizon. “We need to get a move on. There’s more I need to learn, and we need to find a way to Draka.”

  “You’ll tell me later what you remembered?”

  “Yes.” How I was going to tell him that I was supposed to be on the side of the demons in something called a great uprising, I had no idea. That was definitely not good news.

  Roarke nodded, then stepped back.

  Relieved, I followed him out of the tower, not looking back as I hurried down the stairs. Fuzzy memories of this place began to return. Flashes of a warm kitchen and a great library. I hadn’t left the tower often when I was a child, but when I did, those were two of the places I would go.

  When we reached the bottom of the tower, I turned toward the library. “Follow me. I have an idea.”

  I wanted answers, not only about the layout of the castle so we could free Draka, but about myself. I hadn’t been completely magically powerless as a child—I’d been a transporter. So what had my parents meant, that I hadn’t come into my powers yet? My Phantom powers? Or something else?

  Something that made me the Demise?

  I swallowed hard and led us down the stone-paved path toward a large building at the back of the fortress. The living area was all back here, the buildings narrow and pressed up against each other. We went into a narrow side door that led to a wider hallway.

  If I was remembering correctly, the library should be just off here. Whenever I wanted answers, libraries were usually where I could find them.

  All of my memories were so fuzzy, but with every step through my childhood home, they grew stronger.

  I led Roarke through a wide set of double doors, into a windowless room. It was massive, at least four stories tall and built entirely of the glowing Catalight stone. The light illuminated thousands of books, untouched by the elements because the room had no windows.

  Of course. This was where I’d gotten my obsession with books.

  “Impressive,” Roarke said.

  “Yeah.” Cold and unwelcoming—not like my trove back home—but impressive.

  A huge fireplace hulked against the far wall. Above it hung a complex tapestry. My family tree.

  I hurried closer, peering up at the intricately embroidered fabric. It was an actual tree, with the oldest names at the roots and the youngest at the twig-like branches. An intricately decorated series of letters formed the base.

  The World Walkers.

  “What is a World Walker?” Roarke asked.

  A memory of my mother flashed in my mind. I was young, no more than six, and standing in front of her throne.

  “We are the last of the World Walkers,” she’d intoned. Her voice, cold as ice, echoed off the stone walls of the throne room. “We have a duty. You have a duty. You have the strongest, deadliest power of us all. You must use it for the family.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what that meant, but the memory faded.

  “I think we are able to walk between the Underworld and Earth.” At least, that was the impression I’d gotten from my mother. As for my strong, deadly power? What the hell did that mean?

  I searched the tree, finding that the names grew sparser at the top. I was the last one, on a spindly branch that reached toward the sky. There was nothing else to find on this tapestry.

  I turned, gaze roving over the books, searching for answers.

  “What are you looking for?” Roarke asked.

  “I want to know what I am. What my powers are. And if there is a way to free Draka without the demons noticing us. We can’t cross that barrier. It triggers them.” But the library was so big, and unlike my own trove, I didn’t know where to find anything.

  So I did what I always did when I wanted to find something—I called on my dragon sense.

  The question of who I was got no tugs. Same for anything about my powers. That information had died with my parents or was trapped in my own mind. Or my dragon sense was just too weak.

  Either way, that info was lost to me for now.

  But my desperate desire to find Draka did give me a clue.

&nbs
p; “This way.” I hurried across the library to the large desk at the far side. It was flanked on either side by suits of armor. My gaze darted to the helmets. “Holy fates. Those have horns.”

  “Demon armor,” Roarke said.

  “Yeah. That can’t be good.”

  The desk I sought was wide and made of gleaming wood. I wasn’t sure why exactly my dragon sense had taken me here. Perhaps papers or notes?

  There were a few lonely sheets resting on the desk. I reached for one. As soon as my fingertips hit the desk, memories flashed in my mind. Sitting with my father, here at this desk.

  His gaze was intent upon mine. “You must remember, Delphine. In the event of an attack, there is an escape tunnel behind your mother’s throne. Go there. It will lead you to the outer walls near the back gate. Then you flee.”

  “What about you and Mother?” I asked.

  “We would go, too. It is the only way to insure our line survives. If there is an attack, we must run.”

  My mind snapped back into the present. I met Roarke’s gaze. “There’s an escape tunnel near the throne where Draka is chained.”

  “You remembered that?”

  “Yes. My father told me once when I was a child. My dragon sense knew I wanted answers, so it led me to a place where my memory would be triggered.”

  “That is a very handy skill.”

  “Indeed. When it works.” I turned toward the door. “We can go get her now. We have time left on the invisibility potion.”

  “It’s dangerous to go without your friends. We may need backup.”

  “What if they can’t enter?” Worry for Draka felt heavy in my stomach. “We must go. We’re invisible and we have an escape route. This may be our only chance. What if they move her?”

  His brows drew together, worried. “You’re right. If they move her, you can’t find her, can you?”

  “No. I thought I could before, but I was only following her directions to get to Flora at the League of FireSouls’ headquarters. Finding her here, at Snowdonia, was luck. My dragon sense only found her once we were really close.” I gave him my hardest look. “I’ll go without you.”

  “I know you will.” He pointed to the door. “Let’s go. Do it quickly before the potion wears off. If there’s a sign of danger, we leave and come back with reinforcements. We can’t let the demons capture you.”