Chapter 6 #2
She deflated a little further. If there was magic to learn, she would have liked to know it all. The church guarded their secrets closely, and somehow, she thought being the chosen one meant they’d divulge it all to her.
“Don’t be too disappointed. You are her sword born into flesh, and the magic will come more easily to you. I have foreseen it.”
“What is it that I should be able to do? Apart from glow and maybe burn things?”
“Oh, but you can do so much more.” The Avatheos opened the velvet bag and out clattered runes.
They were used in death augury and carved from bones.
With a wave of his hand, they floated up into the air in front of him.
They circled around his head like constellations, spinning around and around faster and faster until they were merely a blur.
Then one came flying at her, and she was too slow to dodge it.
It had a sharp edge that she hadn’t noticed before, and it sliced into her cheek. Blood trickled down to her chin.
The Avatheos leaned forward and pressed the tip of his finger against the cut, and a warmth suffused her body as pulsing began in her back. It eased the tension she’d been holding in her body for days. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this light and uninhibited by pain.
“You took away my pain,” Liane said in an awed whisper.
The runes floated to him and neatly placed themselves back in the bag. “You have the power to do that and more. You could heal corrupted once you’re fully awakened.”
“Tell me how!” Liane said.
“Magic courses through you. Can you feel it? Traveling through you like golden light?” he asked.
Liane leaned back in her chair. She had been trying to summon her magic ever since the incident, but it was easier when she was under duress.
And other than the odd spark of light, she couldn’t do much.
Whenever she did magic, it left her with a pounding headache, so she’d stopped trying until the Avatheos could guide her.
“Not really. I was feeling pain, but you took that away...”
He was silent for a long moment, and she got the distinct impression he was disappointed.
“I feared as much.” He stood up, the smooth metal ball gripped in his hands.
He approached her from around the desk, and when the ball got closer, she realized it wasn’t plain metal but covered in unfamiliar writing. It seemed to be alive as the markings zipped around the ball, like a thousand flickering fireflies.
“Take hold of the rune catcher. And concentrate on making the light.”
She took hold of the ball, and as soon as her fingers brushed against it, she felt a zing race up her arm.
Then it settled into a tingling sensation, as if the ball were vibrating very slightly.
She concentrated on summoning light. She imagined sunbeams, a flickering candle.
Her back throbbed with the effort, and after several minutes of hard concentration, all she was able to conjure was a faint shimmer along the ball.
And almost as soon as she’d summoned it, it disappeared.
“Interesting,” the Avatheos said, more to himself than to her. And she felt an ashamed blush rush over her.
“Am I doing something wrong? Should I say an incantation or something?”
His tutting and muttering were making her feel exceedingly self-conscious. “You certainly have the sparks of power, but something seems to be blocking your magic.”
“What?”
“We’ll need to find out. Perhaps your power has been too long suppressed and needs something to help draw it out.”
He stood up and walked over to a cabinet at the back of the room that she hadn’t noticed before.
He opened its double doors. It was filled with all sorts of strange oddities, odds and ends of various types.
He ran his hands along the shelves before he stopped, selecting one.
Then, he turned and walked toward Liane with a jagged black blade in his hand.
The blood in her veins quickened, and the closer he got to her, the more her heart pounded. She felt a spark along her skin, and perhaps even a faint shimmer.
“What is that?” Liane asked, fear making her recoil.
“This is a dagger carved from a revealing stone. We use it to uncover hidden magic.”
Liane licked her suddenly dry lips. Her heart was pounding. Surely the Avatheos wouldn’t do anything that would hurt her, would he?
“Hold out your hand, Liane,” he said.
Her hand trembled as she held it up—from fear or excitement, she wasn’t sure.
But the moment he placed the tip of the blade against her palm, all she felt was flames, white-hot surging through her veins and threatening to consume her from within.
Red filled her vision, and even when she tried to close her eyes, it was still there.
It felt like the first time she’d illuminated, but so much worse.
The pain stung like a burn that ran through her flesh and down her back, a searing, splitting pain that felt as if her back was being broken open and the Avatheos was reaching in to yank the sword out of her back or crack open her rib cage and rip the sword out through her chest. She cried out and tried to pull away from the dagger, but the Avatheos grabbed hold of her hand, forcing the blade to pierce her palm deeper.
“The sword, I can see it!” he shouted, free hand outstretched as if he’d grip hold of it.
Tears were streaming down her face. Was it really supposed to hurt this badly?
The edges of her vision were clouding, and the pain was becoming unbearable.
Then she saw wings beating at the edge of her vision.
There was a monstrously large crow sitting in the corner of the room, watching her with its head cocked, mocking her.
“Run,” it cawed. Liane lurched back, pulling her hand away, and the dagger fell to the ground between her and the Avatheos, shattering into a thousand pieces. The raven had disappeared, and she wasn’t sure if it had been a fevered delusion or a vision.
The Avatheos stumbled backward, clutching the hand that he’d reached out with to grab the sword, and it was red and inflamed.
Or, at least, she thought it was because every candle and light blew out in that moment, and they were both plunged into darkness.
Panting and cradling her injured hand, Liane stood, her instincts telling her to run, but her devotion to finding the truth kept her in place.
The candles reignited, and the Avatheos, also breathing hard, stood back from her as if he was terrified of her, though she couldn’t imagine why.
“The revealing stone is harder than diamond. It shouldn’t have shattered so easily,” he said. He rubbed the bottom of his chin. “But I saw it, the Golden Blade fused with your back. We’ll need something stronger to draw it out, I believe.”
It seemed he was talking more to himself than her, but she was too tired to care. The pain in her hand was fading, and the shock of what had happened was starting to settle, and in its place, her stomach was roiling.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she announced a moment before leaning forward and vomiting her dinner onto the Avatheos’ polished floors.
“Perhaps I pushed you too hard for your first time. Return to your room and rest. We will resume your training another day, after I have consulted the stars on what to do next.”
Liane nodded and stood on wobbling feet. The Avatheos must have called for Ludwig because the next thing she knew, he was there, his arm around her waist, half dragging her out the door.
“What happened?” he asked.
Liane shook her head, not wanting to talk about it and preferring the temptation of sleeping for a thousand years or more.
Without his assistance, she would never have made it to her room, where she collapsed onto her mattress and decided sleeping for a thousand years sounded like a very good idea, not realizing she’d completely forgotten her meeting with Erich.