The Dying Art of Magic

by Natalie Gibson

  Nathalia couldn’t resist. She reached out and came close to touching the silver string. Almost imperceptibly, Alisha’s body tensed. The proximity was intoxicating to Nathalia. Her whole being was taut with pleasure. Unable to stop herself, Nathalia strummed it like a guitar string. It hummed at the same frequency as the magic in Nathalia.

  Alisha’s legs and arms straightened violently as if her skeleton grew. She locked in that pose for a moment. Her eyes opened slightly, but only white could be seen because they rolled back into her head. Alisha started bucking, hips moving up and down so quickly that she almost fell off the bed. Her whole body convulsed.

  Nathalia heard people around her yelling about Alisha’s seizure. They surrounded the bed to make sure she didn’t fall, but kept their distance so she couldn’t hurt herself or them with her thrashing. There was some debate about the equipment and what should be done about it.

  Nathalia and Eiran stayed still. The latter because he did not realize this wasn’t normal, the former because she was certain of Alisha’s safety. Nathalia studied. There was something to be learned here, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  Alisha was behaving like a measuring tape that had been stretched all the way out and then released. The tape was snapping back, rolling itself back in its case. That’s what was happening; the thread yanked Alisha back to her “case.”

  Alisha’s prana ball, her glowing etheric self, came back into the room. It flashed colors rapidly, a type of astral seizure, or maybe it was just angry. Nathalia was sure that she was the only one who could see it. It wasn’t going back inside Alisha, who lay still now. The thread bent, drawn to the necklace, the kink keeping the ball from returning.

  Nathalia placed her hand over the birthmark effectively severing whatever connection kept the string outside the body. Life rejoined flesh. Nathalia realized someone spoke to her.

  “…unconscious for a while and then may have amnesia or short-term memory loss. She’s fine now, although that’s never happened before. She’s likely to be confused or embarrassed about what happened. It’s irrational but common with seizures. Give us a little while and I’ll come find you.” All right, Ingrid. I’ll be in the library. Nathalia turned and left the room with Eiran trailing behind. She directed her thoughts to him, I need to do a little research. You need to read a little bit of the works of the Bard of Avon.

  “ERESHKIGAL.”

  Nathalia turned toward the Nephilim calling her by the ancient warrior name and saw Nurzhan Turel coming toward her. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, not in a robe, indicating he had residence nearby and hadn’t tabalu’d here. That could mean danger; he could be Akhkharu. She didn’t sense any danger from the man, but testing it would be easy enough.

  Nathalia and Eiran were in the library. She had been thrilled that Eiran was so excited about the massive book accumulation. She had been less than happy that he was so interested in Maeve’s graphic novel collection. He sat on the floor with them spread out all around him. Having learned to read English in a few moments, he was an amazingly quick read, but took his time with the comic books, savoring each brightly colored panel.

  Nathalia looked through some much older books toward the back of the library, with Eiran in the modern section closer to the doors. He stood next to her in a flash. She could tell he wanted to put himself between her body and that of the Nephilim. She didn’t let him, but directed him to stand behind her. She laid her book about Atropos down and waited.

  When Nurzhan reached them Nathalia asked, Do you want to test your resistance?

  She held out her hand to him. She fisted it, using her ultra-sharp fingernails to pierce the skin, drawing a small amount of blood. Eiran wrapped his arms around her, needing contact to tabalu them, ready to remove her from harm’s way in a second’s notice.

  Nurzhan looked at the palm offered to him for no time and shook his head. Nathalia didn’t seem to hold any temptation for this one. She wondered why as she quickly licked the blood from her already healed hand. Did he have a will stronger than the others? How do you find that so easy?

  “I have found my mate.”

  It was only then that Nathalia noticed he held one arm slightly behind him. A smaller hand gripped his. A large pair of eyes set on a small head peaked out around his hip.

  Nathalia smiled at the half-hidden face and then at the Nephilim. Congratulations to both of you. What makes you think she is the one?

  The Nephilim gave a slight shrug, but the motion was tense. “I feel it. Being around her eases me. She gets upset when I go away.”

  She is of your family line?

  A slight nod.

  Let’s see you, little one.

  Nathalia had never been good with determining the ages of children, but this one looked about 11 to her. Just starting her adolescent growth spurt, the girl was already tall, but she had the straightness of body that indicated youth. Her flat smooth chest said she was not yet a woman. Her long blonde hair and childish clothes told Nathalia that this girl’s mother was not ready to let her blossom.

  Doesn’t it hurt to touch a Guardian, sweetheart? Nathalia knew that the women who had been held by Nephilim described it as uncomfortable, but this girl held on to her mate’s hand as if it were any other.

  “No, ma’am,” the little girl answered, but then quickly amended her statement. “Yes, Abbess, but not too bad.” She smiled up at Nurzhan. He had taught her to value truth.

  The smile Nathalia recognized. I’m not the Abbess anymore. Is it Gwyneth or Lillian? One was Alisha’s biological daughter, the other was not, but both thought of the Peregrinus as their mother.

  The girl was obviously thrilled that the older woman remembered her. She beamed. “Gwyneth. Sister Maeve said you were gone, but Mom said you would come back and you did.” She cocked her head to one side. “But you look different. Changed.”

  How much have you told her about who she is? Who she’ll be? Nathalia asked Nurzhan.

  “Nothing.”

  Nathalia put her attention back to the girl. Why did Nurzhan seem so anxious? Was it just proximity to other Nephilim? I am changed, Gwyneth. I’m a Guardian now, and someday, when you’re older, I think you’ll be one too.

  Then it struck her why Nurzhan was nervous.

  The tension in the hallway thickened into an almost tangible level.

  Anger radiated off Nathalia in waves and Eiran attempted to balance it by sending out his own calm She did not dare ask the girl, but focused her query at the giant in front of her. Have you had sex with this child? Nathalia raged at the thought. The girl actually took a step back, fear in her eyes.

  “Of course not.”

  Nathalia eased her mind, reigning in the rage. I apologize. My past is such that…I sometimes think the worst of men. What is it then, brother? What worries you?

  “You made a law that I have broken. I have healed her with my blood.” He paused for a second. “I have tasted hers.”

  How often? Nathalia and Eiran weren’t lying to the brothers. They really did not know how much of an exchange had to occur before the conversion happened, or if surviving the tabalu was a cause or effect.

  “I have only healed her once. She fell and skinned her knee. She was not crying, but I could feel that it pained her.” He looked slightly embarrassed, “It wasn’t just that. I smelled the blood and wanted it. I licked it clean and then spread a drop or two over the lacerations.”

  And since then?

  “On occasion I have tasted her blood. It is irresistible. I spoke to my most trusted brethren and they do not find her smell all that tempting. It is the other reason I know she is my Sinnis.”

  Nathalia focused her eyes on the girl, who shone with the prana of a human. No, he hadn’t converted her, but who knew how close he’d come to doing it accidentally. Human blood is only to be taken when necessary for battle, not for pleasure. If you cannot control yourself around her, maybe it’s best if you remove yourself.

  “You can
’t send him away.” The girl spoke up. Nathalia didn’t know if Gwyneth had heard or just sensed what Nathalia said. “He needs blood to live. He’ll die without me.”

  Nathalia knelt down to put herself at eye level with Gwyneth. No, he won’t. He doesn’t need it. He wants it. There’s a difference.

  Gwyneth stood straight, looking more adult than before, challenging the older and stronger female. “Well, I guess it’s my blood and I can share it with who I want. Anyway, he can’t leave. I won’t let him.” Her chin when up a notch in defiance.

  Nathalia arched her eyebrow, He might have things he has to do. We all have duties. Mine is to make sure all Guardians keep the law and see that the ones who don’t are brought to justice.

  “I say his duty is to be with me. I have domillion over him.”

  “Dominion, the word is dominion,” Nurzhan corrected.

  My, you certainly are your mother’s daughter. Yes Gwyneth, it is your blood and body, but you cannot understand the concept of consent, nor the full price of having dominion over another. Nathalia looked up at the Nephilim. Telling a preteen girl that she is in charge…you may have a very spoiled mate on your hands.

  Eiran spoke for the first time, but used the silent way so that the child didn’t hear him, Proximity could be dangerous. Child or no, how long can you resist the urge to claim her body, take her prana that way?

  “Her blood strengthens, not weakens, my resolve to wait until she is old enough.”

  Nathalia stood, Very well. If you can control yourself, you can stay. Continue to take small amounts, when she allows it. No more healing. Never feed her your blood, or you could curse her to the existence of a succubus. You have the blessing of the First but it will be some time before the blessing of the One is possible.

  Nurzhan bowed, turned and walked away with Gwyneth following closely. Nathalia wasn’t sure she had done the right thing by leaving them together, but tearing them apart seemed more decidedly cruel than waiting to see if they made it. She also knew that if it came down to it and Gwyneth was badly hurt, Nurzhan would do everything in his power to see her through, even if it meant breaking the law. Even if it meant his own death. That’s what love was.

  THE SUN was just setting in Texas, but on the other side of the world where Nathalia and Eiran appeared, it was just rising. Nathalia didn’t really feel funny about traveling that way anymore. She realized that the high she got from it at first wasn’t sexual. It was more about that connection that she made with Eiran every time he tabalu’d.

  Finding the Daughters compound was easy enough. Nathalia was, as Abbess of one branch, made known of all the units. Alisha, after recovering from her seizure amnesia, gave them a good description of the location of the dagger. The Sisterhood kept it on display in their sanctuary with other ancient treasures. This area of the world was rich with human history.

  Gish Abay was the town nearest to the Daughters of Women compound. Their actual land lay near the three natural springs that fed the Blue Nile. Those springs were considered holy by pagans and Christians alike and were known to possess healing powers. The Christians claimed it, but Nathalia knew it was because of the Sisters’ sacred burial grounds.

  Magically charged women granted special properties to the land where their bodies were buried. In Texas they had a sacred ficus grove. Those trees bloomed and produced figs year round from the secret in that soil. The fruit had healing powers (and they didn’t taste too bad spread on toast in the form of preserves either). Here, the bodies blessed the spring water.

  The compound sat in a remote and hidden area. The location protected them from the frequent conflicts, especially religious in nature, so common to this part of the world. Luckily, Nathalia could point to it on a map and Eiran had a natural image of the world in his mind. They walked out of the surround of trees expecting one scene but getting quite another.

  Blood.

  Blood everywhere.

  The hungry beast rose to the surface. Fangs erupted into Nathalia’s mouth. She was getting used to her hunger and able to push it down more easily. Eiran handed it over for her to carry her own share more and more. This was more intense than usual and he reined in the portion she could not handle herself. Eiran watched as she doused the fire in her eyes and the cool calm of the normal opal-like multicolored sparkle of a Nephilim in control replaced the heat.

  That is why we allow ourselves to feed before a battle. These conditions bring up the beast and with enough blood on display it can come out, winning the contest for control, even with the strongest of us.

  She turned and asked, Is this too much for us?

  The fire in his own eyes was not as well under control. This is manageable. Horrific loss of life, mostly female and of family lines. Tragic yes, but not as…stimulating as an ancient battle. Consider the nature of the battles we fought long ago.

  It was true, Nathalia thought. This was nothing when compared to the carnage of a B.C.E. battle. All the spears, knives, battle axes and clubs brought tremendous damage whenever they made contact with the enemy.

  She took another look at the scene now that she could see anything other than the blood.

  The place was destroyed. It looked like a small bomb went off. There were rubble piles and small fires all around them. Nathalia recognized that type of hot blue fire consuming some of the bodies as the same type that had burned the vrykolak on the first night of battle with her new Sinnis status.

  She could see the Sisters had not done well against Eitan and his children. Their bodies laid scattered around the buildings. Some whole, others not so much. They all had the commonality of having some type of bite mark. A flaming monster lay on some of them, as if the abominations kept killing and eating (not always in that order) even after Ud’s light started to burn them. Nathalia shuddered to think of these women’s last minutes.

  Eitan appeared. He wore a cloak that covered his head and whole body. Modern tennis shoes peaked out from under its hem. He spread his empty hands in surrender.

  Nathalia called out to Ki. Ki heard and agreed.

  “No!” Eiran tried to warn her, but Nathalia was too quick. Ki acknowledged her requests quickly too. The earth had Eitan in her grasp and Nathalia yanked off his cape. Eitan was naked beneath his clothes but did not recoil at the sun’s touch.

  Even at a distance, Nathalia could feel the heat radiating off him, but he did not burn. He was obviously in some pain, but Nathalia couldn’t tell how much. Not enough. Not enough for Nathalia. He might not be able to die without the weapon, but he could feel. She wanted him to hurt. She wanted him to bleed for what he’d done to her and what he’d done to Ereshkigal. The little voice inside was egging her on. Do it. He deserves it. Cut him. Spill his blood. Weaken him.

  Eitan bated her. “Is this all you have? My brother should have better informed you. Ki will not hold me forever if Ud’s punishment does nothing.” Before she knew what was happening, Eiran had a hold of her. He had her arms clamped to her sides just as he had done when he first let her hold the hunger. He pulled her away from Eitan, who bled from a dozen slices on his arms, chest and legs.

  She looked down at her sword-hand. She had done it again. She’d called the metals in her body to the surface, bent and formed them to her will. She had done it without a thought. Eiran tabalu’d, resetting her body to normal and allowing Ki to cleanse her of the corrupted blood.

  When they reformed, Eitan was laughing. And stretching of all things! He used his fingers to hold open the wounds, keeping them from healing too fast. His body seemed to shimmer and then solidify again. Nathalia became aware of Eiran speaking but her body still reeled from tabalu and her mind attempted to figure out how to handle Eitan.

  What? she asked.

  “He counted on you not knowing that he feeds on violence, even violence against his own body. That which does not kill him, makes him stronger.” He continued silently, That is why Akhkharu make their children. They perform unspeakable acts that provide him with the pur
e physical violence he needs. It is what feeds him.

  Nathalia couldn’t help but think about Michael. He had “fed” on the pain he caused her. She managed to kill him, but Eitan was invincible, for a while at least. She couldn’t just wait around for his perversion to progress far enough for sunlight to burn him. How many cities would be destroyed, how many lives demolished by then? But she had killed Michael, she would find a way to end this one. She just had to keep her head about her.

  Think. She told herself. Violence didn’t work. It just helped him. She looked up and saw the waxing gibbon’s crescent moon and thought, Sister Annu, help me. How do you combat a villain that feeds on pure physical violence?

  The answer came swiftly. With pure physical pleasure, but had it come from within her or without?

  Of course. Nathalia just happened to have a supply of pure physical pleasure, or the power generated from it, at her disposal. She sent a quick message to Maeve, I must try something using communal power. If the Capacitors get drained, cut me off from them, but not a moment before their lives are in danger.

  She’d lived lifetimes since she had pulled from the holy Capacitors, but it had once been her only power source and the process came back to her easily. She felt the power gathering in the back of her head, making her feel warm and tingly, like the rush before an orgasm and then the flush was on her face. She enjoyed the strangely familiar sensations as she formed a mental connection with Eitan.

  He went stiff. He had not expected this. “You cannot. It is not allowed for a gadishtu to use holy power for destruction.”

  Nathalia shrugged one shoulder before speaking to him telepathically using the collected communal power supply, Have before. Words were difficult with this source and a waste of the limited power, but feelings weren’t. She siphoned that pure white power through herself and into Eitan, using it to broadcast all the love and happiness she could pull from her memories. Not long ago those images would have been dominated by Maeve, but now Eiran was the key player.