Chapter 14 Attempt a Magical Extraction
(Without Exploding Your Wife’s Head)
Arabella
Try it again.”
My words came out through gritted teeth. My scalp prickled where Kazimir’s fingers traced another pattern, his dominion magic pulsing against the Heirloom like someone playing an off-key lute directly on my brain.
His hand stilled. “This isn’t working.” That particular edge had crept into his voice—the one that meant something was about three seconds from being set on fire. “Nothing’s changed.”
We stood in Griffin’s main laboratory in the North Tower, surrounded by the organized chaos of his experiments.
It was actually quite impressive when you weren’t worried about it exploding.
Three levels of workspace connected by a spiral staircase that moved on its own but occasionally got confused and deposited people on the wrong floor.
Glass vials lined the walls in rainbow gradients, some bubbling ominously despite having no heat source.
Shelves crammed with containers stretched from floor to ceiling.
Some held perfectly ordinary herbs. Others contained things that pulsed with their own light or occasionally tapped against their containers as if testing for weaknesses.
A half-assembled contraption that looked like a metal spider crossed with a pipe organ dominated one corner. Another held what appeared to be a collection of preserved eyeballs that tracked our movements with disturbing focus.
Any blank spaces on the walls were covered in chalk equations that rewrote themselves as Griffin’s theories evolved.
I’d avoided this tower for good reason. The last time I’d visited, Griffin had accidentally animated all the furniture, and I’d spent an hour being chased by an overly affectionate ottoman.
I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the building pressure. We’d been trying to remove the Heirloom all morning. “Maybe if you used less brute force and more finesse.”
Kazimir stepped back, his jaw tight. “Maybe if you hadn’t put the damned thing on in the first place.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I dropped my hands. “Next time an ancient artifact of unimaginable power wants to disappear into my skull, I’ll tell it to ask your permission first.”
“That’s not—” He stopped. His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jump. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Do I? Because it sounds like you’re blaming me for trying to help.”
His eyes flashed dangerously. “I don’t merge with random magical artifacts.”
“No.” I crossed my arms. “You just invade kingdoms on a whim and wonder why things go sideways.”
The air between us crackled. Not with magic—with the familiar friction of two stubborn people who didn’t back down.
But fighting with Kazimir wouldn’t get the Heirloom out of my head. I took a deep breath. Then another. The familiar scent of sulfur and burnt herbs that permeated the lab helped ground me.
His posture shifted, some of the rigid tension easing from his shoulders.
He studied me with that intense focus that usually preceded either brilliant strategy or spectacular violence.
“Maybe we’re approaching this wrong. The Heirloom merged with you when the ley lines were corrupted. Perhaps it’s protecting itself.”
“Maybe.” I closed my eyes, searching inward for that golden shimmer that now lived beneath my skin. Leave. Get out. Vacate the premises. Find a new home.
Nothing.
Please?
Still nothing.
I’ll melt you down and turn you into earrings.
The Heirloom pulsed once, almost like it was laughing at me.
I opened my eyes to find Kazimir watching me expectantly. “Anything?”
“It thinks I’m funny.”
His lips twitched. “At least someone does.”
I glared at him, but some of the tension eased from my shoulders. My gaze snagged on a collection of failed experiments, with jars labeled with dates and cryptic notes like “Do not feed after midnight” and “Achieved sentience—had to put it down.”
“Why does Griffin have so many eyeballs?” I nodded toward the collection that was still watching us.
“Failed scrying experiments. They’re mostly harmless. Don’t make direct eye contact with the green one.”
A screech from outside made us both turn. Nyx’s massive head appeared at the window, her silver eyes fixed on me with an intensity that was somewhat weakened by the shimmering pink blaze forming along her snout.
“No.” I crossed to the window, keeping my voice firm. “You’re not allowed in here. Griffin’s familiars, remember?”
She screeched again, talons scraping against the stone in clear protest.
“I don’t care if it looked delicious. Stay out. You can barely fit through the window anyway.”
Her head tilted. That look—the one that said she could fit anywhere she wanted to, thank you very much—was unmistakable.
“Don’t even think about it. I’ll find you later, I promise.”
She huffed, sending a small puff of purple flame through the window that singed a stack of papers on the nearest desk.
“Nyx!”
She flew off with what could only be described as a teenage sulk, her tail whipping past the window hard enough to rattle the glassware on the nearby shelf.
“Our little arsonist is becoming more defiant every day.” I turned back to Kazimir. “And she’s just a dragon. Can you imagine adding a child to the mix? They’d burn down the citadel before they could walk.”
“At least that’s one disaster we don’t have to worry about.”
“Thank the gods.” I meant it.
We’d talked about it after the attack on Skyspire, when the healers had been fussing over both of us. Neither of us had experienced anything resembling a healthy childhood—his mother had carved runes into his bones, my father had locked me in a tower. We’d be terrible parents, and we both knew it.
I’d been drinking a yearly prevention potion since my father had allowed me out of my tower, but Kazimir had gone further.
Years ago, before he’d even claimed Skyspire, he’d undergone some sort of dark magical procedure to ensure he’d never father children.
The details were vague and probably horrifying, but the result was permanent.
I wasn’t upset about it. If anything, I was relieved. We had enough problems without adding a tiny Dark Lord or Lady to the mix. Besides, we’d probably be starting wars and dodging assassination attempts for the foreseeable future. Hardly the environment for raising a child.
I pushed thoughts of hypothetical offspring aside. “Let me look at the ley lines again. Maybe I can see something different today.”
I closed my eyes and reached for the Heirloom’s power. It responded eagerly. The world exploded into ribbons of golden light, all twisted together in an endless web.
I focused on Solandris, following the lines toward the Golden Rose Fields. Unfortunately, the corruption was worse and showed no sign of fixing itself.
Before I could say anything, footsteps thundered up the stairs. The door burst open, and Griffin practically fell through it, Vex and Sebastian right behind him.
Griffin’s face was pale, his glasses askew, and his hands were shaking.
“My lord. My lady.” He gasped for breath. “I have news. Bad news. Very bad news.”