Chapter 17 #2
Ignoring my question, he muttered a chant under his breath, the spell over the pit dissolving at his command. The instant it dissolved, the magic hammered inside my chest. Sucking in sharply, Warwick grabbed onto me, keeping me steady.
“Shit . . .” I breathed, my limbs quaking under the intensity. It was at least double the power I had felt from it the first time.
Zander shoved the wood plank off, displaying a scorched wooden box lying in the middle.
Struggling to capture air, I gulped a few times. The lure to it now was almost painful.
“Wow.” Tad blinked at me, awed, and fear sprang in his blue eyes. “You recall how I could see a hint of your aura last time?” Tad turned his head to me.
Again, another ball of nerves swayed my stomach. “Yes?” I swallowed nervously. “Is it gone again?”
Tad stared at me for a moment, then moved to Warwick. “Yes and no.”
“Huh?”
“Individually, I can’t see either of your auras, but the aura between you two?
It’s the same gray reflective color I noticed before.
” He nodded at Warwick and me, a strange chuckle in his throat.
“They are so thick it’s impossible to see anything else.
I think they’ve been there for a long time, but it wasn’t noticeable.
Not like they are now. But it’s nothing compared to what you have with this.
” He motioned to the firepit, moving my focus to the power I could hear thumping from inside, no longer a whisper, but a cry.
“The power between you and nectar is unbelievable.” Something in his tone jerked my head back to Tad, his throat bobbing.
“What?”
“It’s as though you are its battery source. The more you connect, the stronger it gets.”
All liquid evaporated from my mouth, my chest clenching.
He didn’t need to tell me the most desired object in the world, one which could crumble civilizations if put in the wrong hands, was the last thing you wanted to get more powerful.
“What does that mean?” Warwick’s shoulders hunched forward, his lids lowering in a glower.
“It means stop discharging the grenade launcher, big bad wolfie!” A voice came from my pack.
Hands and feet climbed up onto my shoulder.
Opie’s outfit and hair were in disarray, a bit of mushroom and poppy flowers stuck to his cheek, looking like he just stumbled back from an all-nighter.
“Wow, I’m already out of breath. That was a steep climb.
” He leaned over his knees, sucking in and out dramatically.
Everyone stared at the brownie on my shoulder.
“What?” He stood, straightening out his kimono. “Am I wrong? The legend’s got too much punch in his spunk. Cake in his snake. Too much batter going into her vatter.”
I cringed.
“Nizzle drizzle in his—”
“Oh, my gods, stop.” I palmed my face.
Opie shrugged, peeling the bit of mushroom from his cheek and eating it.
“As disturbing as that was, he might not be too far off,” Tad replied.
“What?” Warwick huffed. “This is my fault?”
“No.” Tad shook his head. “It’s the energy you create together, which strengthens not only your bond but fuels the nectar as well. As if there is too much, so the nectar siphons off what you can’t hold.”
“They do pump their magic juice into it.” Opie plunked down on my shoulder, snickering in my ear, completely loopy. I really had to cut them off of drugs. Though it actually made sense. Our energy together affected everything around us: ghosts, humans, fae, electricity, the air.
“You’re telling me we have to stop having sex?” Warwick snarled, his neck straining. “Not gonna fucking happen.”
“I’m just telling you what I observe.” Tad shrugged his shoulder.
“What about when I burn through the magic? It’s happened a few times now . . . and our connection goes quiet.” I gestured to Warwick. “Does it lessen its power?”
Tad tilted his head. “We noticed it wane and go quiet, but each time it flared back, it was even stronger.” Tad shuffled on his feet, a nervous tick stressing his eye.
“You both are growing more powerful. I can feel it.” Tad’s hand squeezed his cane until his knuckles were white.
“But the nectar is growing much faster. I think it’s siphoning the magic your body can’t handle and taking it on.
Just as it did when you were born.” Tad’s wariness was written on his face, peering down at the nectar, studying it as if it would unlock its riddles to him.
The nectar thumped like a heartbeat inside the box, pulling me closer to it, whispering to me. I needed to hold it, to have that part of me back. Maybe it would tell me its secrets. I could understand what this all meant.
Leaning, my hand reached for the box, a jolt going up my arm, my finger about to skim the lid.
“Do. Not. Touch. It.” An emotionless voice said every word as though it were a battle. I jerked my head up with a gasp, my eyes taking in the outlines flittering out from the forest trees, their cloaks the color of the shadows.
“When I spoke of compromise?” Tad gripped his staff harder. “They were the concession. They wouldn’t allow me to bring it here without them.”
I stood immobile as seven figures moved in as silent as ghosts, the woman in front taking my attention. Her skin was pallid and thin, boney hands holding on to her scythe.
“M-mom?” I stared at her, panic and fear gripping my gut. My mother and her clan stood before me; the life in them drained away, leaving what was left . . .
Necromancers.