He shook his head, awed. “You never cease to amaze me.”
A moan drifted to us, and we both turned in unison toward the sound. On the battlefield, Edward had peeled open his swollen eyes. Shock went through me. The wound to his chest should have been fatal, but the blood had slowed to a trickle. And he was…alive, breathing. His heart still beat inside his chest.
“Edward.” Marcus rushed to the boy’s side and sank his knees into the muddy ground. He slid his arms underneath the mage’s slack form and lifted him toward his chest. Powerful ebony wings ripped out of his back, and then he was off, flying to the distant castle on the hillside. I watched him for several long moments, awing at his strength and at his heart. When I’d first met all the shifters, Marcus would have been the last one—save for Sebastian—I would have expected to be so selfless and caring. Behind that smirk of a smile, the ego ten times larger than his head, and his sometimes annoying remarks, he hid a sensitive man who wanted nothing more than to do his damnedest to save as many lives as he could.
He was a true guardian, I could see it now, with the heart of a gargoyle. A heart of stone.
With my hand pressed tight against my chest, I went in search of any blood mages who might have fled in fear. It wasn’t difficult to find them. They were hidden among a small cluster of trees less than half a mile from the fight. They were both covered in blood, though not their own. If the fae had decided to go after them, they would have found the mages within moments.
At the sound of my crunching footsteps, the older witch curled her hands into a fist. Energy crackled off her palm. But then she saw my face, her fingers relaxed, and she broke out into a heaving sob.
“I’m so useless,” she choked out between the sobs that shook her body. “I was supposed to be protecting them. The younger ones. But look at me, powerless and hiding like a coward.”
I gave her a kind smile and knelt before her, casting a glance at the younger warlock who sat broodily and silent beside her. “Sylvia, isn’t it?” She nodded. “Your powers are weak because you haven’t eaten in days. Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“I should have been protecting them. We lost Charlotte, and Edward, and Rae.”
I took her shaking hand in mine and squeezed. “Edward’s alive. He’s not in great shape, but he’s alive. Marcus has taken him to the castle, and he’ll be back for you two in a few minutes.”
“Edward is alive.” She grasped at her throat, her wizened eyes filling with hope. “But he…how did he…? They stabbed him in the gut. The sword went straight through him.” Her face transformed suddenly, from eager hope into something else. Her lips pressed tight together, and she squeezed shut her eyes. “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?”
She glanced at the boy beside her. “Kieran, is this what I think it is?”
“Some of us tried the curse out on each other. The hybrid one,” he mumbled, his eyes locked on the muddy ground. “Edward is one. Charlotte, too. And me. Scarlett and Rae didn’t want anything to do with it though.”
Sylvia gasped, and the skin underneath her chin trembled as she fought to hold back the tears. “Well, I never would have believed you’d do such a thing. How could you do this to yourselves?”
“It kept us alive, didn’t it?”
Now, I understood. The young witches and warlocks of the Blood Coven had cast the Unbound curse on each other, transforming them into hybrids. Half-mage, half-vampire. It explained a lot. How they’d survived for so long without food and drink. How their hollow eyes and gaunt skin made them resemble vampires. How they’d reacted when we’d stepped out into the sun.
The blood mages were becoming the very creatures they vowed to hate and destroy.
I didn’t know how to process the implications of that, at least not right now.
Marcus found us a few minutes later. Together, we got Sylvia and Kieran to safety before retrieving the bodies on the battlefield. We couldn’t risk humans stumbling upon the dead witches, and the mages who had survived deserved the right of giving their loved ones a proper burial.
By the time we were done, an hour had passed. So, we hastily said our goodbyes and took to the skies.
Chapter 27
When I spied the City of Wings in the distance, the relief that surged through me was like nothing I had ever felt. And Marcus must have felt the same. His heavy, dark wings beat faster as he picked up the pace of our flight. It had taken us another two hours to get this far, but we were in the home stretch now. We’d arrive in the city way before the deadline.
As the wind whipped my silver hair around my face, I studied the stone island. From our vantage point, everything looked just as it had when we’d left. Another rush of relief. There were no fires burning, no magical fights brewing in the streets. Everything looked calm. Everything looked safe.
The magic hunters still hadn’t launched an attack. And once my feet hit that island, they’d never have the chance to again.
Something whizzed by my ear. With a gasp, I twisted in Marcus’s arms to look behind us. A single, silver-tipped arrow whistled through the air before crashing into the sea far below us.
Marcus tightened his grip around me when another arrow flew our way. He flapped his wings, taking our speed up another notch.
“It’s the hunters,” he murmured into the air. “It’s broad daylight, and they must have been keeping watch.”
With a frown, I twisted to scan the horizon in every direction. “Where the hell are they?”
“Helicopter. To the right,” Marcus spoke through gritted teeth as another arrow was launched our way. He only managed to dodge it a millisecond before it would have slammed into my leg.
I twisted to the right to see the helicopter far in the distance. Over the heavy beat of Marcus’s wings and the whistle of the wind in my ears, I hadn’t heard the churning blades, but now I could. Barely. The helicopter was nowhere near us. How the hell could anyone shoot an arrow that far?
Another arrow ripped through the air from the copter, and Marcus took a sudden nosedive toward the ground to escape its path. Heart hammering, I clung on tight, feeling his muscles ripple as he fought for control over the whipping wind.
And then he took another nosedive. The sea rushed up to meet us, and I squeezed my eyes as my stomach flipped over. Bile rose in my throat, but I bit it back down. I had to be strong. I had to hold on. This would all be over within moments. All we had to do was reach the City, and then—
A horrible ripping noise broke through my thoughts. The sound of the very earth being split in two. Only it wasn’t the earth, I realized, when I peeled open my eyes. An arrow had pummelled into one of Marcus’s wings and had left a gruesome hole that was wide enough to fit a fist into. And it bled, a dark inky blood that spread across his veiny wings.
He roared, a heart-shattering roar of rage and impossible pain. I gasped for breath, but my lungs refused to work. We were still plunging toward the sea, only now it wasn’t a nosedive designed to dodge the hunters’ arrows. Marcus tried to flap his wings but roared once again, the tendons merely trembling. The combined weight of us was too much for him to bear.
With a deep breath, I let go.
Wind whipped around me, and a moment later, the sea consumed my body. The impact of the water on my skin took my breath away. I went down, down, down, until my feet hit the bottom. Gritting my teeth, I pushed up, gasping for breath when my face broke the surface.
Marcus landed beside me. He’d managed to slow his fall without my added weight, but it hadn’t been enough to stop him from joining me in the sea. He groaned and grasped at his back, every vein in his neck bulging from his skin. The sea water thrashed at his wings, pouring over the gaping wound. And the roar he let out was deafening.
“Shift your wings away,” I said, grasping out to hold him as he fought to stay above the surface. “The sea water is only making the pain worse.”
“I. Can’t.” Each word was an effort, his tee
th clenched tight. “Can’t shift. Wings. When wounded.”
It was difficult to understand him, but I was fairly certain I got it. As long as his wings were wounded, he couldn’t shift them away, allowing him to become full flesh and bone.
“What about your gargoyle form? Can you shift into stone?”
He barked out a laugh. “Become stone? In water? I’d sink.”
“That’s true,” I said quickly as a wave crashed against his face, “but does it really matter? Shift into stone. Heal your wound. And then shift back into man so you can swim.”
When he didn’t answer, I grabbed his shoulders and squeezed tight. “Come on, Marcus. Stay here with me. You can’t give up now. We’re so close to winning. All you have to do is just fight for a little bit longer. Please. If not for yourself, then do it for me.”
The glazed look in his eyes cleared. He searched my face before letting out another grunt of pain as the waves pounded against us once again. “Alright, love. But I’m going to need your help. I can’t shift back if I can’t breathe. You’re going to need to help me keep my head above water.”
My mouth went dry. “Right. Exactly how heavy are you when you’re in your gargoyle form?”
His cocky smile momentarily reappeared. “I’ve never weighed myself when I’m stone, love.”
Another roar of agony split from his lungs, and he arched his back. I kept my hands on his chest, my heart breaking at every second he struggled against the pain. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to help him. If only I had the power to do something other than watch helplessly while those I loved suffered.
And then he was changing, his skin rippling as he let his stone magic wash over him. I sucked in a deep breath and grasped for a better grip on his arms. I hadn’t been ready. I hadn’t realized he was actually going to shift. The pain must have become too unbearable for him to wait.
My fingers found their grip as the waves churned around us. His body slowly hardened; his skin became stiff and smooth. But with every second that passed, he grew heavier and heavier, and soon my grip on him faltered.
His body began to sink. Scrambling, I shoved my hands under his arms and strained against the weight of him. He was heavy. Heavier than a ton of bricks. As I held on tight, my fingers trembled, but I refused to let go.
He continued to sink. My mouth gasped for breath. Soon, we were underwater. Murky green filled my eyes and still Marcus didn’t shift back. He couldn’t now, I realized, heart hammering in my chest. His mouth was below water, which meant he couldn’t breathe.
Gritting my teeth, I kicked out my legs, desperately trying to force our heads above water. The violent movement made my hands lose their grip. I cried out as his body slipped from my fingers and tumbled down below me. Water shot into my open mouth, filling up my lungs. I kicked and kicked, crying out as the sea threatened to claim us.
Eyes opened wide, I watched in horror as Marcus sank to the bottom of the sea.
Chapter 28
I stilled, no longer fighting. The hunters had won, and we had lost. I wasn’t strong or powerful enough to save anyone, least of all myself.
Marcus. My heart felt as if it had shattered into a million pieces. He’d trusted me. He’d believed in me. He’d shifted, putting his faith in my ability to keep his head above water.
Why had he done that? Surely he knew I had very little physical strength. The only time I’d ever shown any kind of power was when I…
When I’d transformed my volatile emotions into the kind of strength that could hurl a gargoyle shifter through the air.
Through the murky water, I stared at my hands. They were so small and weak and useless. They would likely break if I slammed them into stone. The bones would shatter. The skin would turn to blood.
But I had to try.
Chapter 29
Somehow, I hadn’t drowned. I took that as a good sign that my goddess magic still protected me. Worst thing that could happen when I tried to rescue Marcus was that it would hurt like hell. And I was more than willing to take that risk.
I spread my arms wide and twisted and turned, trying to get my body to the bottom of the sea. Down, deep within the hazy blue-green, I found Marcus had sunk into the sand. Fish darted around him, and then swam away when I approached. In the rippling water, his stone skin almost looked alive, like a living breathing gargoyle man with steel gray eyes and shimmering wings.
But he didn’t belong down here. He belonged in the skies.
Goddess, I hope this works.
I pushed through the water, green algae floating around me, until I was only inches from Marcus’s stone form. Curling my hands into fists, I closed my eyes and focused on that strange power that flickered deep inside me. And then I focused on my fear and my fury, weaving those strands together until my emotions felt as if they might consume my soul.
The past few weeks had been a nightmare. A blessing and a curse all in one. I’d found out I’d been lied to all my life, that magic hunters wanted nothing more to kill me, and then I’d been forced to fake my own death. And all of that was before the king of the Unseelie Court decided to make me his prisoner.
Witches had been slaughtered. Gargoyles had been threatened. Fae allies had died.
And I’d had enough.
With a roar, I threw my fist into Marcus’s body. My knuckles crashed against him, crunching under the weight of his stone. Power shook through me, blasted from my hand, and light filled the grungy darkness of the deep sea.
Marcus rose higher, the force of my blow ferrying him away from the sandy floor. Before he could fall once again, I pushed myself through the sea, swimming underneath the dark shadow beneath his body.
And then he fell, the heavy stone weight of him crushing my back. I closed my eyes and demanded my power remain, churning through memory after memory to keep my mind’s eye on the aching pain in my heart. It was enough to keep us afloat.
Grunting, I kicked and kicked and kicked, pushing Marcus higher. We rose from the murky sea floor, but my powers faltered in my chest. It felt as though the entirety of the City of Wings had squatted on my back.
But still, I continued on, kicking harder and harder until his face crested the water. I screamed as his weight bore down on me, my entire body trembling in a struggle to give him enough time to take in a breath of fresh air.
My lungs tightened, and my heart suddenly squeezed.
I kicked out, pushing Marcus higher above the water and trying to gulp in air myself. Pain radiated from my chest, like the pain from a dozen shards of glittering glass. Darkness crept in the corners of my vision.
And then the load began to lighten.
The world went murky and strange.
I opened my mouth, gasping, screaming. Water consumed my mind.
Part IV
A Path to Darkness
Chapter 30
When I came to, I was no longer sinking in the cold sea. I cracked open my eyes to find a familiar sight. It was my room in the Scriptorium, warm and cozy and achingly familiar. The mattress underneath me was soft, much softer than it had been before. Several blankets had been tucked in around me, and the fireplace flickered with the glow of orange flames.
Relief spread through me like a buttery syrup, relaxing every limb in my body. We’d made it back. Marcus must have shifted and flown us here, touching down before time had run out. And the magic hunters, despite their arrows and their helicopters, would never have a chance to harm anyone here again.
From somewhere to my right, hinges creaked. I twisted my head to find Silas rising from a chair beside the bed. His ice blue eyes were soulful, and his face pale against the warm glow of the lamp.
He eased onto the edge of the bed and pressed his hand against my forehead. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
I took in a deep breath through lungs that were very much not filled with water. “I’m fine, surprisingly. Where’s Marcus? Is he okay? I need to see him.”
I pushed up onto my elb
ows and dizziness slammed into my skull. Shakily, I lowered myself back to my pillows and closed my eyes, blocking out the writhing view of my bedroom.
“You have a fever,” he said. “You should get some more rest.”
Sleep called, a whisper in the darkness of my mind. But I struggled against it, wanting nothing more than to stand from this bed and find Marcus, to see the faces I had missed. It had only been a week since we’d left, but right now, it felt like a lifetime.
“I don’t understand,” I murmured as my mind weighed heavy with exhaustion. “I thought I was immortal.”
“You are,” Silas said. “But you’re not immune to pain. If you breathe in a gallon of water, you’re going to hurt afterwards. But don’t worry. You’ll be better before you know it.”
* * *
That turned out to be two days later. I knew I’d healed when I could place my feet on the floor without throwing up. Sun streamed in through the window, a brand new start for a brand new day. And a brand new life.
I showered and got dressed in a cozy knit sweater, jeans, some fuzzy socks, and a pair of brown leather boots. It felt good to be in clothes that were my own, warm and soft and much easier to fight in than a long and flowing dress. Not that I’d be doing any more fighting in my life.
The deal was done. Only peace was in my future.
When I strode into the dining hall, the room fell silent as a hundred pairs of eyes turned my way. Kipling with his crinkly smile, Tess beaming beside him. The shifters all stood, even Sebastian. The Queen gave me a nod, the shadow witches following suit.
“Come,” Kipling called out, patting the empty seat beside him. It was the one at the head of the table, and they’d left it free for me.
Before I’d walked halfway across the hall, Jasper’s arms were around me, lifting me from the floor. He squeezed tight, choking the breath from my lungs, but I didn’t care. He was here. He was safe. So were all of them. Tears streamed down my face—happy ones, for once—and I tightened my arms around his neck.
Carved in Stone: Protectors of Magic - Book Two Page 13
