Divine Blood

by Beck Michaels

  Cassiel tossed a waterskin by her feet, the contents sloshing inside. “Drink,” he ordered. Then added mildly, “You’ll feel better.”

  As the cool water went down her throat, some of her anxiety eased. She wiped her cheeks with her dress sleeve and forced the brunt of her distress aside. It wouldn’t do to assume the worst yet.

  “If your cousin does not return, he instructed you to go home.”

  “I won’t go back.”

  The Prince’s mouth thinned. “You will go back.”

  Dyna glared at the clear command. The history of her village was founded on those who fought for the right to make their own choices and she would not let that be taken from her.

  “I think you have misunderstood me, Prince Cassiel. I have decided where I am meant to be, and that is here. I won’t go back. Not without the stone.”

  Astonishment settled on his features. It was the first time she had spoken to him so firmly, but he needed to understand that no matter what happened, she would not give up.

  “Even if you were to drag me away again, you would not find my village,” she said, still upset that he had snatched her into the sky. Fearing he would drop her Dyna had clung to him desperately. Remembering her sheer panic made her insides drop.

  A hint of amusement swam in his cool gaze as if he also remembered it. His large black wings flexed at his back. The plumage was as sleek as oil in the firelight.

  “As long as I can see the skyline, I know my heading. Your village lies due west. It won’t take much to find it.”

  Dyna shrugged. “Even then.”

  Cassiel arched an eyebrow as he gauged whatever he read on her face. She wasn’t lying. The mages of old had cloaked North Star from any unwanted attention. He would never find it. Not from above, not even if he stood right in front of it.

  “Once you see what darkness awaits out there, you’ll beg me to bring you home,” the prince said over the crackle of burning wood.

  Dyna rested her palms over the tall grass as she leaned forward, holding his hard gaze. “Be it here or out there, darkness finds its way into every remote corner of the world. I am not a demon hunter, or a warrior, or anyone with experience. Perhaps I should leave this quest to someone else far more qualified, but I won’t because it’s mine.”

  She curled her hands into fists, tearing up blades of grass. Essence stirred through her, hot and electric, roiled by rare anger. Its invisible energy prickled along her skin and cast static around her. The firewood snapped and the flames flared, startling the Prince.

  If she had a significant amount of Essence, she would have expelled uncontrollable magic. Emotions riled up magic in those who hadn’t trained in control. Her father had passed before he could train her, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have enough Essence to produce any real power.

  But she would not turn back.

  Not when she could clearly remember how her family’s blood had crystallized in the snow after the Shadow came. It had looked like a hill of crushed rubies glimmering under the sunlight. Beautiful. Devastating. A reminder of what was to come.

  “The Shadow took everything from me,” she said, pinning Cassiel with her stare. “I won’t rest until I turn it to ash.”

  He didn’t look away. Nor did she until the moon rose above the clouds as though called by the ancient powers in her blood. Whether it was the moonlight or the settling of her Essence, the roiling in her faded away like a passing breeze, sweeping all the bitterness away in her next breath.

  Dyna laid her cheek back on her knees, closing her swollen eyes. “Do you believe me so foolish that I don’t fear what may happen on this journey? I know what I risk. I know the dangers, but I have to try. The Sunstone is the only way to defeat the shadow demon. So, I will go on this journey, even if it costs me my life.”

  A heavy silence fell, thickening the space between them. She had not admitted that aloud to herself before, but it was an oath she kept locked within her heart. For Lyra, she would do anything.

  Cassiel fidgeted with the belts of his sheathed sword lying beside him. “If you found another way, would you forget Mount Ida?”

  She could not read his expression. “I would have no reason to go. Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged.

  Dyna waited but he offered no other answer. She glanced around at their belongings and came to a realization. “If Zev doesn’t arrive by morning, I must return to the glade.”

  “It would do no good to see his body. If there is anything left of it.”

  She winced. Zev deserved a proper burial, should it come to that. “I have to return.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m afraid I dropped the journal there.”

  “What?” Cassiel hissed. “You dropped it? How could you drop it?”

  Dyna’s reply caught on her tongue for a large, warped figure came out of the tree line and stumbled into the clearing.

  Chapter 16

  Dynalya

  Pure relief flooded through Dyna when she saw who it was. Choking back a sob, she leaped to her feet and sprinted across the distance between them.

  “Zev!”

  He let the rucksacks he’d been carrying drop to his feet before plunging to his knees. She threw herself at him, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. He groaned, his face scrunching in pain.

  “God of Urn, what did they do to you?”

  Red trails leaked down from the deep gashes all over him. A chunk of skin hung from beneath his left ear where teeth had tried to take his jugular. Gravel and dirt were embedded in his wounds. There was so much blood splattered all over his face and mouth, it couldn’t have been all his own.

  Mingling with the strong metallic scent was the faint smell of vomit. The back of his forearm was smeared red, as though he had used it to wipe his mouth.

  Dyna’s hands hovered around him, not knowing what to tend to first. “I’ll stop the bleeding.”

  “No,” he rasped, slumping back on his heels. “Save your strength.”

  “But your neck!”

  “It’s nothing vital.”

  Cassiel lingered at a distance with his arms crossed, trying not to cringe. “Do you have the journal?”

  Zev brought out the rectangular bundle wrapped in his dirty tunic he had tucked under his arm. He unwrapped it to reveal the black, leather-bound book.

  “First day on this quest and you’ve already gained enemies,” Cassiel said, his eyes trained on it.

  “The matter is settled. We are safe now.”

  Dyna flipped the tunic inside out to the clean side. She turned Zev’s chin to mop the blood from his neck, making note she would need to find proper bandages as soon as she could. She was grossly unprepared for a healer. “We need to wash these wounds.”

  “How did you escape?” Cassiel asked.

  “I didn’t.” Zev’s blank stare focused on something over her shoulder. Lost to horrors she could not see. Something dreadful happened in that glade.

  “They let you go?” the Prince pressed.

  “Aye …”

  She searched her cousin’s face. “But now you can never go home, can you?”

  “That place is not my home anymore, Dyna. It hasn’t been for a long time.”

  They fell quiet, not knowing what to do or say. Prince Cassiel turned away and wandered off to the lake. With a couple of flaps of his wings, he rose easily into the night sky, flying in lazy circles overhead.

  Dyna watched Zev stare blankly at nothing. She should have known he wouldn’t be able to live in Lykos Peak much longer. They had never accepted him there. She took his face, turning his unfocused gaze on her and she saw the Madness swimming in it. Speaking to him. Turning him.

  “Zev? Zev!”

  His glowing eyes blinked, switching back to green and the growing fur along his forearms receded. He shook his head to rid himself of the whispers she knew he’d been listening to.

  “Where were you planning to go?” she asked, her voice cracking.


  By Zev’s pained expression, he knew what she meant. Where was he letting the Madness take him?

  “I had thought to come here.” He looked at the lake, his wild hair undulating in the wind. “It’s quiet and a day’s travel from the village. Without the need to pass through Hilos, I can visit more often.”

  He must not have fully given up if he made plans for the future. It was a kernel of hope Dyna grasped onto tightly.

  She returned to wiping the rest of the blood off him, but there was too much of it. All she managed to do was to push it around. “How did you find this place?”

  “When I was a child, Father would often travel to Landcaster for work. Lake Nayim is the midway point, so we would camp here. This place looks much the same since I last came. There was once a town past those trees. It’s believed the isle was the eye of Utgard, the Cyclops giant confined under the mountain ice caps of Skath. They say he cursed the lake when he opened a small rift in the Spatial Gate to look into our world. The tale was meant to frighten me, but I remember thinking, ‘the Cyclops didn’t mean to scare them away. All he wanted was not to be alone.’”

  There was so much sadness on his face Dyna wanted to cry. “Come back to North Star when this journey has ended. You’ll live with me, Lyra and Grandmother.”

  Zev sighed. “You know I can’t—”

  “I don’t care what the village council says. We are your family. Uncle Belzev would have wanted you to be with us.”

  “The council was right to banish me, Dyna. It’s not safe for a werewolf to live among humans. But this place is safe. Here, I’d hurt no one.”

  Zev was strong and kind, yet so brittle. He was broken on the inside, and it was visible on the outside. His body was a testament to his life; covered in scars placed by others and ones he placed himself. His new wounds would add more. She couldn’t see him that way any longer.

  Dyna placed a hand over his neck wound and called on her Essence, drawing a vivid green light in her palm. She sent it forth to flow through her fingertips, picturing the layers of muscle and skin—

  “Dyna!” Zev jerked away. He glowered at her, tentatively touching the wound site. The bleeding had stopped. Its swollen red ridges had reduced significantly and the skin was fused in a pink line. “I told you it wasn’t necessary.”

  “I can help. Let me!”

  “No. Essence Healing is depleting. Look at you.”

  She tried to appear fine but her breath came heavy, her limbs trembling. Only a sliver of ancestral power was left in her bloodline. Essence Healing cost her a great deal of effort. It always left her drained to the point of extreme exhaustion.

  “What is the purpose of this ability if I cannot use it to help others?” she asked.

  Zev had let her heal him once before, as he’d been too wounded to stop her, but she had fallen unconscious for three days. After that, he wouldn’t allow her to heal him again.

  “Help those who need it, not me. Werewolves recover quickly. My injuries will scar on their own by morning.” He shook his head when she tried to protest. “Please, let’s not argue about it. I’m tired and starved.”

  Dyna huffed and picked up her journal as she stood. Her legs wobbled and her head spun. Zev reached out to steady her.

  “I’m all right,” she waved him off. “We’ll camp here tonight. Go wash up while I prepare our meal.”

  Zev staggered to his feet. He dragged their rucksacks to the fire before limping for the lake.

  Dyna washed her hands and searched through Zev’s pack for a change of clean clothes. Most of his tunics were threadbare with holes. She took out a pair of trousers, and her fingers brushed against the icy links of his thick chains. She snatched her hand back with a shudder.

  After leaving his clothes by the shore, Dyna rummaged through the other rucksack for more items. She withdrew rolled-up bedrolls made of treated canvas and wool blankets. Then she worked on gathering more firewood to last the night. Prince Cassiel flew down, taking a seat within a nearby tree. He made no effort to help.

  Once the fire was roaring, Zev returned, clean, and dressed. Dyna passed him a plate of manna, cheese, and dried fruit. He ate urgently while she applied a salve to his wounds. Cassiel remained seated above them. He produced his own rations from his pack and kept to himself. The Prince surveyed their surroundings as though he expected something to slip through the trees.

  She ate quietly while she studied him in turn. His winged profile cast a long shadow on the balding branches, swaying with the campfire. Even in the dark, he didn’t look human. The unearthly beauty, the subtle glow beneath his skin. He was unreal. It wasn’t only the discovery of his kind.

  He was distinct.

  His black wings and hair were unique among the Seraphim she’d seen. Celestials, she corrected herself. What was the difference? The Prince said they were earthbound. Was that all it was?

  Sensing her stare, Cassiel’s silver eyes slid to hers. They were guarded, as cold as steel in the snow. She sensed so much hidden behind his indifference that she wished, for only a moment, to know what entered his mind when he looked at her.

  Well, he had already said what he thought. Stupid human.

  “Thank you for keeping Dyna safe,” Zev called up to him, breaking the silence.

  Cassiel leaned back against the tree’s trunk, hitching up a leg on the branch to rest his forearm over it. “I would not consider this safe.”

  Zev followed his line of sight to the shadows enclosing them. “They won’t come back.”

  “They hardly left you alive. They may return to finish the task.”

  Dyna wondered if that was why he wouldn’t come down, or if he naturally preferred to be high off the ground, like birds.

  Zev looked down at the wounds on his chest, visible through his open tunic. “They won’t.”

  “If he says we’re safe, you need not worry,” Dyna said at the clear skepticism on the Prince’s face.

  Cassiel eyed her a moment then dropped to the ground in one agile leap. He kept one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the silver knife strapped to his belt within reach of the other. His gaze flickered to Zev. The Pack may not be the only thing he was wary about.

  The Prince sat on the exposed roots of his tree as though it were a throne. It really would be impossible for anyone to mistake him for anything but royalty. He waved her forward. “Let’s see the map.”

  Dyna retrieved the journal from the top of her bedroll and turned the delicate pages to the section where the map should have been. The page was blank. “It disappeared.”

  Cassiel jerked to his feet. “What do you mean it disappeared? Where is the map?”

  Zev searched around him, rifling through their belongings. “Did it fall out? I must have dropped it in the glade.”

  Dyna smiled. “The map is enchanted to fade away as a precaution. The mage this journal belonged to secured it with his Essence.”

  Cassiel’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Essence is the source energy of magic,” Zev explained. “It’s found in those trueborn with the ability to wield it, like the fae, the elves—”

  “I am quite familiar with the definition. But she failed to mention last night that the map was locked under an enchantment. Only the mage can reveal it.”

  “Yet I have already shown it to you,” Dyna pointed out.

  He gave her a dubious look. “How can a human reveal an enchanted map?”

  “Allow me to show you.” She was excited to demonstrate this part. They gathered around her and watched as she brought the journal close to her lips and whispered, “Tellūs, lūnam, sōlis.”

  Her hands flared green, and a burst of purple light whirled across the page. Zev and Cassiel’s mouths hung open, a mystical glow reflecting on their faces. Their wide eyes followed the stroke of ink moving across the page. Each delicate curve drawn by an invisible brush as the continent of Urn took form. Then the shining island of Mount Ida appeared to the west.

  Their speechless
ness only lasted a couple of seconds before Zev laughed. “Aye, I should have known. You never cease to amaze me.”

  But Cassiel’s eyes sharpened on her. “You’re a witch.”

  Dyna grimaced. “I beg your pardon?”

  “She’s not a witch,” Zev said.

  Cassiel backed away from them. “That was clearly a spell.”

  “Well, yes, but not mine,” she told him. “The words were the passphrase to unlock the spell concealing the map. I didn’t cast a spell.”

  He backed up another step when she stood, keeping an eye on her hands. Did he expect her to throw a hex on him?

  Dyna frowned. She preferred to be called stupid than a witch. Humans were not born with Essence. Any power they gained was black magic granted by the God of Shadows, ruler the Netherworld.

  “I used Essence to trigger the spell,” she said. “I know it may be confusing to see a human with power, but I didn’t gain it through dark means. I was born with it. Zev and I descend from Lunar Mages, from Azeran himself.”

  The Prince scoffed but grew serious at her steady expression. She closed the journal and showed him the sigil of House Astron on the cover. His eyes grew wide. “You mean to tell me you come from the bloodline of the Azeran Astron; the mage who brought about the War of the Guilds in the Magos Empire, two-hundred-and-fifty-years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  Incredulity glinted in his hard glare. “I overlooked that claim before, but you cannot be of House Astron.”

  It was a hard thing to believe. Mages didn’t marry outside of their race. Her fiery red hair could portray her as someone of the Sun Guild, but Azeran was of the Lunar Guild. His hair had been white as starlight, his eyes the color of amethyst crystals.

  Zev crossed his arms. “She tells you the truth.”

  “It’s an honor to be his descendant,” Dyna added.

  Cassiel curled his nose. “That is nothing to be proud of. Azeran committed treason.”

  She sighed, shaking her head. “That is not true.”

  “You would dispute the hundreds of books and mage biographies that documented the War of the Guilds?”