15. THE LIMITS OF MAGIC
Chapter fifteen
THE LIMITS OF MAGIC
Ornella
“ T here is… a ward,” I choked out a warning as my entire body seized in revulsion from the assault of the unnatural Fuath magic upon my senses.
Sage grabbed me, preparing to lift me right back into the saddle, but several arrows hit the dirt around our feet a split second before one sunk into Serafin’s side.
The vargr gave a startled yelp of pain and turned as if to nip at what had hurt him, but Sage grabbed his head to make him be still. I heard Ciaran also utter a snarl of pain from somewhere nearby, and I knew the other rider or his vargr had probably been hit as well.
Sage’s Wild Hunt armour made from thorn and bone appeared on his body as if it was second nature for him to summon it in battle. I gasped without meaning to, but the only time I’d seen him wear it since the day I had been captured was the battle last night. And he’d removed that deeply unnerving skull helmet before he reached me in the village. An expressionless mask with black, hollow eye sockets and unfeeling bone etched with thorny vines. The cloak had come with it, and the hood was drawn up over his head, but it could not hide the breastplate that looked like a deformed rib cage.
I knew it was Sage, but I still trembled. I was sure the helmets possessed some kind of old magic that made me feel immense dread. Cold and death radiated from him.
“Sage—”
“Quiet!” he insisted lowly. Even his voice was warped slightly from the smooth, deep timbre that I knew so well into a harsher rasp by the helmet.
I remembered that the Fuath could not actually see us. They had merely fired arrows in our direction after… After they heard my voice warn Sage about the ward.
My heart sinking in guilt, I nodded in understanding, and Sage released Serafin with an apologetic stroke over the vargr’s head. The rider stepped slowly and silently in front of us, blocking me from more arrows as his eyes searched the trees for our attackers. His bow had appeared in his hands with an arrow already notched and ready.
Ignoring the repulsive taste of the Fuath magic, and the distress of the forest around us, I sent my mind down into the earth through the roots of the trees. It was harder to orient myself so close to the noxious ward as if my senses were dulled by strong ale. After a moment, I managed to find the Fuath crouching in the tall grass near the river. Using the roots nearest to grab them, I quickly wrapped the plant limbs around their throats before they could scream and strangled them.
“Dead,” I whispered to Sage who gave a single nod before he turned to look at Serafin crouching with his lips lifted in a silent snarl of pain. He touched the vargr gently, running his hand down Serafin’s flank until he reached the arrow. Serafin growled, but Sage took hold of the arrow and turned his skull-faced helm toward me.
Even the way he moved changed. He was a proficient warrior who was always graceful and powerful, but now his movements seemed preternatural and eerie.
Once I nodded that I was ready, he pulled the arrow out of Serafin’s flank. The vargr yelped in pain, but I was right there to heal him immediately.
“You said there is another ward?” Sage verified quietly while he stroked Serafin’s head with soothing hands.
“Yes, a concealment,” I answered, still keeping my voice low despite the fact that I could not sense any more of the Fuath near. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s alright, Summer, you are not connected to us the way you should be to communicate,” Sage interrupted.
“I cannot sense what is really beyond the illusion so we should not linger here any longer,” I told him.
“Agreed,” said Sage as he finally removed that helmet, and it felt like I could breathe again when I finally met his beautiful eyes. The haze of dread the armour generated dissipated almost instantly. “Ciaran was hit. Would you be willing to heal him so he can fly? But only if you have the strength to spare,” he added more sternly.
I rolled my eyes and exhaled hard to show him my exasperation but then nodded. Sage’s lips curved with the temptation to smile, but he managed to maintain a stoic expression as he guided us to Ciaran.
I could not see anything of the other rider aside from a swirl of deeper shadows before Sage expanded his shield from around us out further to encompass all the others. This allowed Ciaran to disperse his shadows so we could see him along with Pyrope who I was startled to find was standing right next to me.
The golden-haired rider was seated on the ground with his vargr bracing over him as if to block him from any more missiles with his own body. A short arrow shaft protruded from the rider’s upper left thigh, and his green blood stained his pant leg. The scent was a sweet nectar and rose fragrance that wafted into the air, and it was sure to attract more of the Fuath soon.
I moved toward them quietly but also very cautiously when the gold vargr’s head swung in my direction, and he growled at me. I knew by then that it would be unwise to approach a vargr that was defending his rider, but we also did not have time to tiptoe.
“I need to heal you quickly,” I whispered to Ciaran and raised my hands in a gesture of peace.
“Aingeal,” Ciaran said, the only time I had ever heard him speak so gently as he stroked his mount’s chest.
Aingeal did not want to move, but he did grudgingly, still glaring at me as he backed off enough to give me access to his rider. He continued to hover over us so close that I could feel his hot breath fanning the back of my head while I knelt down next to Ciaran.
The rider was clearly in pain, tension forming frown lines around his mouth and dark tawny brows, but I could also tell that he was nervous. Wary of the magic I would use to heal him and unconvinced of my intentions.
Even after everything I’d done, he still distrusted me.
The razor sharp impulse to punish and wound him back was almost undeniable, but I had not realized just how tired I was of maintaining that facade. I was just so fucking tired of always having to fight tooth and nail for everything. So I refrained from retaliating. Besides, it was not like I didn’t understand why people disliked me when I was the one who’d mastered the art of being unlikeable. Distancing people from me had kept me safe, and the reward of my peace and security at the time had been worth the cost of a self-imposed isolation.
“You want me to pull it out for you or do you want to do it yourself?” I asked Ciaran, keeping my voice low.
He did not hesitate. The rider gritted his teeth and gripped the arrow shaft down close to his leg. I was admittedly impressed when he began to pull it out with a slow but steady pace. I thought he might make a noise, but aside from a few sharp inhales and a low grunt, he removed the arrow without much fuss.
The green stain on his pants darkened and widened, and a fresh burst of the sweet scent of his blood bloomed in the air even after I’d healed him. It wouldn’t be long before it brought the Fuath down upon us.
“We need to move,” Sage said to Ciaran as he took my hand to pull me back to my feet.
“Agreed. I still cannot believe they are able to create such a convincing—” Ciaran began.
A tremor of horror spread from the roots of the forest and blared into my mind. A collective scream of warning before I sensed the Fuath stampeding through the ward.
“Down!” I shouted just before their hideous screeches pierced the air behind us.
Sage reacted fast, swinging me to the ground and then bracing over me to shield me with his back, but I heard the telltale thumping of dozens of bow strings. We were about to be caught in a deadly barrage of arrows, and even if his armour might save us, it would not save the vargr. So I made a decision and shoved him aside.
“Summer!” he shouted, but I’d already sent out a blast of magic that reacted with every molecule of moisture in the grass between us and the Fuath. A wall of water materialized in front of us to catch the cloud of arrows, leaving the grass all wilted and the river completely dry.
“Sweet Elements,” I heard Ciaran breathe just as the colossal weight of all that water became too much for my depleted strength. I cried out in pain when my control slipped, and then the massive wall of water collapsed, shaking the earth and rumbling like a waterfall. I used the last of my exhausted power to push it toward the Fuath, and the immense wave swept most of them back into the empty riverbed and washed them downstream.
I could hardly get a breath. The air sawed brutally into my lungs like shards of glass in my throat. My limbs felt so heavy and clumsy, like hapless stumps rather than real arms and legs. I’d collapsed onto my back, staring up in a daze at the darkening sky, and Sage bent over me looking terrified as he grabbed my face. He was shouting at me, but I couldn't make out his words when his voice sounded far away and muffled like I was underwater.
He pulled me upright and was just about to sling my arm over his shoulder so he could lift me when there was a loud pop and the whirl of air moving fast. I raised my head just as a hot gust of foul smelling wind blasted us, blowing my braid over my shoulder, and I stared in horror as the concealment ward burst.
Fuath did not inherently possess the elemental magic of the fey, so they used a hybrid power. Something Ivie, the aes sídhe village healer who was also Orlaith’s sister, needed to heal her patients as well. Healing was not a gift of the Unseelie fey in Winter and Autumn, but the domain of Seelie fey, like me, from Summer and Spring. So Ivie knew enough of this magic to guess that such an illusion ward would have required a mixture of spell components to be positioned around the desired perimeter. She’d also theorized that destroying one container of components might disable the whole spell, and it seemed she might have been right about that.
The ward was fragmenting, probably because the wave of water had disrupted at least one of the containers filled with spell ingredients. I couldn’t even feel proud because I was suddenly choking on the awful, chemical scent of the Fuath magic. It felt hot and sticky on my skin, and it tasted so unnatural on my tongue and in my lungs that I wanted to be sick. The air wavered, shimmering in front of us as the illusion disintegrated until we could see glimpses of what really lay beyond the river bank.
The forest was on fire. Heavy smoke drifted across the clearing now that the ward was no longer containing it and blackened the sky overhead. Beyond the charred skeletons of the autumn trees were the bones of the village that had also been torched.
But what was even more staggering than the smoke, the chemical smell of unnatural magic, and the burning forest and village, were screams only I could hear. I tried to cover my furred ears, but the cries of the forest were something that I heard through my blood and in my heart. Tears instantly began streaming down my cheeks as silent sobs racked my body.
Sage and Ciaran were both equally struck, horrified as they beheld the utter ruination of Sage’s beloved home.
But my wave of water had not gone unnoticed.
Thousands of Fuath were stirring awake after napping through the daylight. They wiggled free of the ashes and crawled out of holes they had dug in the charred earth, blinking their enormous, grey eyes. I saw many of them wearing beaded jewelry and beautifully stitched shawls. They clutched all manner of utensils, decorative pottery, and even children’s toys without knowing the significance of such things.
“Get her up!” Ciaran hissed when the Fuath began to make high squeals of excitement. They seemed a bit slow to rally, perhaps it was still too early in the evening for them after such a long night of pillaging. But soon they were all moving our way, heaps of them galloping quickly on all fours. They still couldn’t see us, but they would smell us easily enough, and I imagined they must know the riders could hide in the shadows.
Besides, they did not need to see us to trample us.
“You need to summon your armour. Now,” said Sage, and I nodded in agreement as he crouched in front of me.
“How?” I rasped.
“Reach for it like you would your magic,” he urged.
Closing my eyes, I did as he said. I felt the ragged shape of my power like bruised leaves and broken stems after how I’d abused it but could not perceive anything more than that. Perhaps the Wild Hunt armour was deeper under the very roots of my magic?
“Sage—” I attempted to seek more guidance, because I could feel the tremors of the Fuath bearing down on us, but then I felt a faint pressure all over my body.
I snapped my eyes open in amazement that I might have done it, but I quickly realized it was not my armour that was materializing on my limbs.
“Sage, no —” I attempted to protest when his armour was transferred to me, still warm from his body heat as it moulded to my form perfectly. The world ignited in vivid colour that brought everything into sharp focus.
Sage seized my waist and hoisted me over his shoulder to carry me to Serafin and lifted me up into the saddle. Even from atop the vargr, I could feel the earth begin to shake under us as thousands of Fuath stampeded.
“We need to go over the cliff. They will shoot us out of the sky this low!” Sage was yelling to Ciaran as he pulled himself into the saddle behind me.
“Take your armour back!” I shouted at him. I was still too lightheaded from overusing my magic to even muster the strength to yank the helmet off.
“You are completely depleted of magic, Summer! I can still shield myself,” Sage insisted as he banded his arm around me to prevent me from removing his armour.
He held me upright while Serafin bounded toward the edge of the cliff that seemed too far away as the Fuath continued to gain on us. Ciaran dived out of sight just as arrows began to fly, and I felt heat flaring behind us when Sage deflected the missiles with his fire magic.
But there were too many for him to catch all of them.
I felt his shoulder reverberate from the impact of an arrow as it launched into him, and he hissed in pain. During his distraction, another got through his defenses and struck Serafin’s hindquarters, and the vargr yelped.
I automatically tried to funnel my healing magic into both of them, but it felt like trying to pour from a dry cup. Or perhaps more like I was trying to scrape moisture from the bottom with raw and bleeding fingers.
“Please! Take your armour back!” I cried.
“Stop!” Sage gasped, breathless as he squeezed both my hands hard enough to jolt me from my concentration. “Don’t use any more magic!”
Serafin was still limping determinedly forward in spite of the pain from his wound. We were just strides from the cliff when spiked chains were suddenly looped around the vargr’s wings and jerked him to a halt. It was so sudden that it sent me and Sage toppling from his back.
I rolled across the ground, jarring my body that was achingly barren of magic, and finally came to a stop just shy of the cliff. I spun over quickly to see that there were Fuath climbing all over Serafin, biting and scratching him as he snarled at them and tried to free his wings.
The shadows Sage cloaked us in were no use once the Fuath were close enough to smell and hear us. They were like blind ants swarming their prey, and the only reason we were not wholly overwhelmed was thanks to the river. Fuath did not swim, so they were drowning each other in order to get across and attack.
Sage got to his knees quickly just in front of me, and I could see from his profile there was a fearsome rage in his purple eyes when he saw Serafin attacked. I could see several bloody spots on his back, he’d been shot more than once, but the shafts had snapped short when he fell. His lips lifted in a snarl, and his whole body braced as he channelled what felt like a volcano rumbling inside him. He began pooling his fire magic into a large orb between his hands with an impressive speed before he unleashed it, heaving the ball of flame forward with all his might.
A scream erupted into the back of my throat as Serafin was consumed by the flames, but it was quickly clear the vargr was in no pain. Only the Fuath that were clawing and gnawing at him caught fire and began screeching as their smoking bodies fell. Serafin’s gorgeous black fur and feathers were perfectly safe from the flames. It would have required a combination of immense power and great restraint on Sage’s part unless vargr were immune to the magic of their rider.
Sage was moving, unleashing another blast of fire that pushed the next wave of Fuath back long enough for him to reach his vargr. Chains melted and snapped apart in his hands as he worked quickly to free Serafin.
I heard a growl and realized Pyrope was standing over me and was bristling with her head turned to the trees on my left. I looked and saw several Fuath with their noses in the air as they attempted to track me by scent, but Pyrope gave a vicious bark, and they scattered.
The ground trembled, and I glanced up to see Ciaran was flying high enough over us to stay out of range of arrows, but his magic had no problem hitting the ground. He was uncloaked, presumably to draw attention from us, and a maelstrom of flame and shadow rolled through the Fuath in his wake as he flew over. Cutting down many of the enemies that were trying to rush at Sage.
My body felt stiff and achy, as if I were to move too quickly, my limbs might snap apart. But I put my shaking hands on the ground and gritted my teeth through the pain as I pushed myself upright. I was dizzy and nauseous as I got to my feet and staggered against Pyrope.
It had been so long since I was utterly depleted that I’d forgotten the limit of my magic. But I’d certainly found it after hours of fighting, bolstering others, healing so many, and then absorbing so much of Rian’s fiery pain and rage. I’d had all night and day to revive myself, albeit rushing around helping the aes sídhe had depleted me physically. And now, with just one enormous expenditure in order to prevent us from becoming pincushions for Fuath arrows, it was all gone again.
Sage had freed Serafin, but even I could tell that one of the vargr’s wings was injured by the way he favoured it. There was a chance he might not be able to fly.
Ciaran kept up a frantic pace in the sky, thinning the hoard of monsters rushing toward my anam and his vargr, but he could not get them all.
“Help them,” I beseeched Pyrope, whose ears flattened with disinclination. “Please!” I cried at her.
The vargr moved closer to me, clearly unprepared to leave me vulnerable, but I pushed her away, stumbling in my efforts to get her to move.
“Go! I need you to help them! I have nothing left.”
Pyrope wavered, her thick tail pressing tight against the backs of her legs as she turned her canine head toward Sage and Serafin. They were fighting the Fuath that got through Ciaran’s maelstrom, but they would not hold long under the assault. Both of them were injured.
Finally, Pyrope raised her head in determination and growled her intentions. I sighed in relief when she tucked her wings and burst forward, her back claws tearing up the ground as she charged into the fray.
She was vicious . Feral and unhinged enough to make the Fuath pause in their attack. Some even fled from her, and it reminded me of the night before when she arrived to rescue me. Obviously I’d never seen myself in battle, but the way she tore into her enemies with her teeth and claws was the way I’d heard myself described before.
And thankfully, that ferocity was enough to buy Sage enough time to get Serafin to the edge of the cliff.
“Can he fly?” I asked Sage once he’d reached me and pulled me against him. I assumed he was comforting me, but I wasn’t so sure when the honey and cedarwood scent of his blood suddenly invaded my nostrils. He leaned into me harder than usual, and I automatically tightened my hold on him when he swayed unexpectedly. He hissed, and I felt him flinch when my hands found the ends of the arrows still in his back.
His clothing was soaked in blood.
“Sage!”
“He can fly,” he assured me, forcing out the words, although I was not convinced by the look of Serafin.
“Can you ?” I demanded.
Sage gave a scoff that sounded like feigned bravado. “It’s going to take more than a few arrows to keep me grounded, Summer. But you’ll need to ride Pyrope.”
“Of course!” I agreed, even though the idea of flying on a strange vargr by myself for the first time, without a saddle, while we were under attack, terrified me.
“Recall her—” Sage began, but he was interrupted by an explosion that felt like it burst my eardrums and made the earth shudder so hard it brought us both to our knees. Rock and dirt were blasted high into the air, swathed in green flames that hissed and crackled like lightning.
“What the fuck was that?” I gasped in horror.
“Fuath magic. Some kind of explosive,” Sage grunted, gripping me under the arms to encourage me to try and get up again. I pushed back against his chest so we helped support one another only to be shaken by another blast that brought us both to our knees again. More debris flew into the air, this time close to where Ciaran was flying, and I realized the Fuath mage must be attempting to take away our aerial cover.
Ignoring every throbbing ache of protest in my body and soul, I pushed myself upright again and stepped in front of Sage and Serafin. Pyrope had retreated to stand nearer to me after the first explosion, and she stood with me to face the Fuath. Many of them were as alarmed by their mage’s endeavours as I was, and their panic gave me a moment to find the source of that foul magic.
He had tipped his head back and stood grinning up at Ciaran’s retreating spectre with a mouth full of serrated, black teeth. He wore a threadbare cloak over mismatching armour like most of the Fuath, but he clenched a stone bowl emitting a sickly green glow on his grey flesh.
That had to be whatever mixture he’d created to form those green explosions.
Once Ciaran had flown off, the Fuath mage turned his attention toward us. I met his large, reptilian eyes and knew Sage’s shadow shields were all down.
The mage grinned, an expression of the purest evil, and I was ready to sever my fucking arteries and bleed the magic I needed to kill the motherfucker. But Sage had gotten to his feet behind me and grabbed my arm.
“No! You are done, Summer!”
“You don’t tell me when I’m done! I’m not done until you and Serafin and Pyrope are safe!” I shouted.
How could he think that he could give me his armour, but I was not allowed to defend him?
Sage looked at me with a strange expression which I could not discern quickly enough before he had abruptly shoved me backward hard. I was shocked and confused at first because it had been a long time since he was rough with me. But I understood all too soon when I stepped back to catch my balance before I fell on my ass…
Only for my foot to hit nothing but open air.
I plummeted past the edge of the cliff with my mouth opening in a soundless scream.
He pushed me. Sage pushed me off the fucking cliff!