Chapter 8 #3
“Which kills them,” I concluded. A chill ran down my spine.
I was right to keep that information to myself.
Even if I didn’t have access to the magic or working knowledge of the spell that returned them to normal—vampire normal.
There had to be a time limit or an accompanying spell that maintained the connection to allow for a human existence, because Raynard went right back to being a vampire.
If they knew this about me, the vampires would definitely want me dead. Who’d want someone around who could destroy them so easily?
He studied me for a moment, his gaze penetrating. “Ignorance doesn’t exempt you from the consequences.”
I wasn’t under any illusion that it would.
He sank deeper into the couch, his arms stretched out as he gave me an appraising look. “You confuse me, Kara.”
“In what way?”
“You have such little knowledge of your abilities. There are so few of you that great care is taken to ensure you know all your abilities, agreements, and restrictions—and ways to negotiate them to your benefit so you can effectively pass the Spellrend.” He made a face of derision.
“Lineage magic has a flair for theatrics but is warranted. Perhaps limiting your knowledge of how deleterious your magic is would decrease your use of it and increase your chances of passing the Spellrend. Your kind has never been that considerate in the past. Could your dwindling numbers be the root of this new civility?”
Watching his arrogance be replaced with sheer confusion was unsettling.
Tossing aside the advantage of hiding my ignorance of ashinwa magic, because I needed answers, I announced, “I don’t know what any of that is. Ashinwa witch? The Spellrend?”
He stood. “Witch?” He chuckled. “How deceptive of you to liken a black mamba to a garden snake. Is it to convince you or me?”
Got it. Ashinwas are dangerous. But I didn’t like the comparison. How about a cat to an ocelot?
He searched my face for answers that he obviously didn’t get.
“How are you unaware of the Spellrend?” He cursed under his breath, his face a canvas of turbulent emotions.
“Because you haven’t gone through it.” He made a sound that settled between a grunt and a scoff.
“You’re not hiding your abilities. You don’t have them. You’re magicless.”
Disappointment washed over his features and his deep eyes lost their spark of intrigue. Suffocating silence lingered between us. Disgust moved over his entire face, clearly directed at himself. “I was mistaken. You can’t help me.”
His expression held the same confused disappointment I’d seen in Jamillah when she speculated about not discovering me. But his didn’t hold the same notes. Hers felt like she missed out on a kindred link, whereas his was like he’d missed an important flight by ten minutes.
“I recall the oath,” he said, standing before breezing past me with purpose. I knew his destination. Amelia.
He looked down at the tight hold my hand had on his arm. My nails dug into his skin. “Kara, you are released from your oath and absolved of your obligations. We are done here.”
He pulled away. His hand stilled just an inch from my face as if he was waiting for something?
Permission to touch? Or could he determine magic from touching the air surrounding a person?
I had no clue, but I moved closer, allowing his fingers to trace over the curve of my jawline.
Prickling warmth slithered over my skin.
The heat radiating off him would have been comforting if the situation wasn’t so dire. In any other situation, I would appreciate the intensity of his gaze, despite him looking at me the way someone would a unique specimen.
“It’s cruel for you to unilaterally break our agreement,” I said, his touch becoming feather light.
His eyes slowly roved over my face until they reached my eyes. “Isn’t releasing you from your oath an act of kindness?”
“Do you know what words mean? How is it kind to deny me the chance to save my best friend’s life?” I fired back. He wasn’t just a masochist who “appreciated” pain, but a god with the inability to distinguish between kindness and cruelty.
“My recalling the oath means you will no longer be collected when you fail to fulfill it. You don’t have magic and there is no way you can complete the task.
When Amelia dies, I’ll take her and leave you here with your locked magic to serve as the vampires’ pet.
The lineage magic continues because you’ll be able to help others with theirs.
” He frowned. “I guess that part isn’t true, since your knowledge of everything is so limited.
How could you be left so ill-prepared?” He waved his question away.
“Nevertheless, you are of no use to me.” As cruel as he was being, there were notes of desolation in his voice. How rare were ashinwas?
“I accepted the oath and agreed to release your friends. You have no right to break our agreement.”
His gaze shifted past me. “Why didn’t you have your Spellrend?”
“I don’t know. Could it be because my parents died before I was old enough to go through it?” Them telling me about my great magic made some sort of sense now.
“It’s not age specific. It’s based on whether it is believed you’d successfully pass.
Because it’s lineage magic, any ashinwa could initiate it.
It was the only restriction that could be placed on your magic to mitigate the harm.
You either pass and are gifted with the magic, or you fail.
” He washed a hand over his face and when it dropped, I got glimpses of fleeting emotions that I couldn’t place.
Maybe sorrow? Dejection? Whatever the emotions were, they accompanied bereavement.
That was an emotion he couldn’t seem to hide.
Sympathy for him slipped in. He really wanted his friends released and the lost opportunity had affected him deeply.
“You make it seem as if my magic is so evil. There is no such thing as any magic being all bad. Just like no spell is all bad.”
“You don’t have magic,” he reminded me quietly.
With a nod, he added, “You are right about spells. But what about curses? Has there ever been one that caused no harm? Some magic is so potent it is nearly impossible to be controlled by anyone but the wielder. It’s up to them whether they use it for good or evil.
Historically, ashinwas were self-serving and cruel with their magic.
It was the first time someone from Umbryth intervened in your realm.
The Spellrend was a mitigation made to oblige ashinwas to do the least amount of harm with their gifts.
Even with the Spellrend, your ilk finds ways to get around that. ”
“Like you did with the rule that restricts you from taking a life,” I countered, displaying my arm. The marking had disappeared.
He took hold of my arm, his fingers tracing the periphery of where it had been.
“But you’re able to see me,” he whispered, his bravado and confidence now replaced by sheer confusion.
“Yeah, and so did William.”
“I meant at Cloak and Dagger.”
“Because I could see you.”
“I was veiled from the eyes of those in your realm. Your magic is the only thing that allowed you to see me. The strongest ability of ashinwas is being veil destroyers. Most veils, oaths, and wards don’t stand a chance against your presence.”
Well, that explained a bit. My magic seemed to be breaking through somehow, or there was a flaw. Nevertheless, it gave me bargaining power.
“I can’t make sense of you or this situation,” he admitted, shaking his head.
“It’s the first thing we’ve had in common.”
He moved away, shrugging off whatever had passed as kindness and understanding. “I don’t need to make sense of it. You are no longer an asset. The oath is void,” he started again.
I rushed up to him. “I will fulfill my oath,” I insisted. Amelia wouldn’t be sacrificed for this.
Making a sound that landed between a bitter scoff and a chortle, he shook his head.
“I will save Amelia and release your friends.”
Desperation had me making promises I should have avoided.
I’d figure out a way to pass the Spellrend, unlock my magic, and fulfill my oath by releasing his psycho friends—and yes, I was convinced they were sadists or sociopaths deserving of imprisonment.
Then I’d make it my duty to fix whatever chaos ensued from the release of his friends even if it involved returning them to their prison.
I was emboldened by the thought that my potential magic surpassed that of the all-mighty Cirrian. Magic for my taking, behind a Spellrend ritual paywall. I wanted the magic desperately, and my sights were set on getting it.
“Why hasn’t anyone come for you? There are so few ashinwas, someone should have come to help you in your parents’ absence,” Cirrian asked.
I was wondering about that as well. There were so many things unanswered, leaving me to speculate.
I assumed the magic came from my father’s side because surely my auntie would have made sure I’d gone through the ritual.
Unless she’d never passed and didn’t believe I could, either.
Or maybe she didn’t want it, allowing the magic line to end with us, never to be spoken of or explored. I needed to speak with her.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. Despite steadying my voice, the tinge of sorrow couldn’t be missed.
I’d never felt so alone in the world. Before, it was me and my magicless parents and their lofty expectations of me becoming a magical powerhouse.
Now it was a lifetime of deception that I was having a hard time grasping.
I blinked back tears. Cirrian hadn’t missed them because his eyes quickly darted from mine.
Desperation and hopelessness had removed all pride. Saving Amelia was my priority. If I needed him to pity me to keep the oath in place, so be it.