Indebted to Faerie (Stolen Magic Book 6) Page 20

  "Don't fight with me, Graulfv."

  "I've always been under the impression you were worried I didn't have enough of a mind of my own, Sophie." He grinned at me. "Disagreement is the best way I can honor your wishes."

  "Smart ass." I rolled my eyes and waved my sword at another bastard I thought might have been looking our way. There were enough targets around that people didn't seem to be bothering us. I thought that maybe the two of us—servant and party guest—clearly aligned were confusing enough of them that combined with the threat we posed, they were going for better prey. I didn't expect that would last long. "I'd rather you honored yourself."

  "I honor myself by staying true to my values," he said. "You first."

  I opened my mouth to argue and caught a fist in the back of the head. Stars exploded in my vision and I fell to one knee. Something burned the back of my thigh.

  Graulfv was screaming my name, but he sounded distant. Will you let him die, too? The Fleece didn't bother with suggestions now; it's tone was full of scorn, which matched how I felt about myself as I heard Graulfv cry out in pain. Free yourself.

  "No." I fought to my feet, throwing knockout lights without seeing where they landed. If I hit Graulfv, we could deal with that. You can't do more good if you're dead, you can't save him if you're dead. I finally found him only two yards away. He was holding his own. His armor was protecting him from the flames, for now. That didn't help him avoid other kinds of blows, though. I fought toward him, but what felt like fifty bodies were between us. How had the crowd snuck up on me like that? Screaming, fists flying, magic flowing out of me without me even bothering to tell what kind—fear magic, wailing, knockout lights—but none of it was enough.

  Graulfv's eyes met mine just as he took a wicked claw to his chest, above his armor and below his throat, opening a gushing wound.

  Are you prepared for both of you to die because these people deserve to live?

  Something broke inside of me. My free will? My stubbornness? My humanity?

  My muscles relaxed. I took a deep breath.

  And I let go.

  My muscles immediately tensed.

  It wasn't a cooling balm to soothe my burns. It was a raging inferno that would scorch a line in the earth to stop the advancing fire. If I inflicted enough death, I could end the fighting among the fae of Faerie right here, or at least start the process. The Fleece understood that peace like that took maintenance.

  I tossed Epic to my left hand, and lit up my right. We were ready. Anyone who came at me would die.

  Unfamiliar thoughts flooded my mind. Our mind. It was a list, a catalog of everyone I'd seen throughout the ball. We were putting them into categories, working as one. If there was a line dividing our beings, I didn't feel it.

  We flicked a death light at the five closest fae, not bothering to restrict my power. They were dead in an instant. I stood and helped Graulfv back to his feet. The wound on his chest looked uncomfortable, but he would survive. "Anyone that gets in our way dies."

  Graulfv nodded grimly. "Do you know a way out?"

  "No, but that is not a problem. I'm not leaving yet. There's business to be done."

  "What do we need to do?"

  "So very many things," we said. "Many, many things."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  We walked through the ballroom, a symbol of strength and danger. We looked upon those we deemed worthy, bringing them to their knees. The others? Any who opposed me fell within moments. I barely registered my surroundings. I only paid enough attention to make sure I didn't kill Graulfv by accident. It took a lot of energy to focus my magic wail and my fear magic at individuals and small groups, but the Fleece believed it was good practice.

  One of the black dogs leapt from a table, going for my throat. Our gaze met his, and he jerked to the side midair, landing wrong and snapping his own leg under his weight. "Call the others," we commanded. He howled until they surrounded us.

  "Sophie?" Graulfv asked.

  "Take care of Graulfv," we commanded them. They ran to his side.

  "Sophie?" he asked again, but we were swept away in a flurry of activity. There was still so much to do.

  Something I'd never seen before attacked us from the sky. We didn't have time to discern what it might be and fit it into our catalog. With a brief consideration of my earlier thoughts on conserving my magic, Haiku was pulled from the sheath at my waist and the beast's head was gone after a casual flick of my wrist. We turned sideways and let gravity propel the corpse past us and into a knot of other fae.

  "Sophie!"

  Nothing could have stopped me from reacting to that voice. If anyone had attacked in that moment, they'd have had their shot. "Belinda?" I closed the distance between us. Of all the people who were likely to have called my name, the banshee sister who'd raised me was near the bottom of that list.

  Then Owen was there, wrapping his arms around me, almost impaling himself on my sword. "We've been so worried about you."

  "I don't have time." We pulled back from his embrace. A thought occurred to me, something they might have noticed. "Have you seen Erik Bresnan? He's here somewhere." We both agreed that he was a priority.

  Owen and Belinda took a step back, their mouths agape. Their eyes drifted to the line of bodies I'd left in my wake and then back to my eyes.

  "What's happened to you?" asked Owen.

  I turned away and scanned the room for my next target.

  "The Morrigan," replied Belinda.

  "Have you seen Erik Bresnan?" we asked them again.

  "We're taking you home," said Owen.

  We shifted to my winged form. Owen grabbed my arm to stop us, so we replied to his earlier statement. "There is no home until our mission is complete." We jumped into the air and flew out of the ballroom with ease. Erik Bresnan must have fled. We'd no doubt find him cowering in a room somewhere upstairs.

  "Sophie," someone called from behind us. We vaguely remembered that was my name.

  Orange Eyelids came into view when we reached the fifth floor. He was a welcome sight. Wherever he was, Erik Bresnan couldn't be far.

  The ceilings were tall but the walls close together, so we could just barely keep my wings in the air. I kicked hard off a pillar and glided on silent wings toward Paulo's back. Something, perhaps my shadow, warned him of our approach and he ducked in time to avoid being skewered by Epic.

  We tucked in my wings and dropped to the floor in a roll that brought us back up and facing our opponent. My arms should have been tired from all the fighting so far, my body should have been aching, but we felt none of it. "Where is he?" we barked, my voice hoarse from using my wail.

  "You look like hell," responded Paulo, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

  "Yeah, killing everything that gets in your way will do that to you," we replied, my grin not playful in the slightest.

  His face transformed then, from his usual annoying, sexy smolder to one of fear. He ducked his head. "Aengus."

  A glance back revealed Aengus standing with his hands on his hips behind us. We stepped to the side so we could see both men in my peripheral vision.

  "Paulo." We waited until he tipped his head up to look at us. "Where is Bresnan?"

  "He's left already." Paulo's knees clunked against the tile floor. "What would you have me do for you?"

  "Find him," we commanded. "Don't return to me unless you've brought him with you."

  He scampered off, bottom-feeder that he was, we were sure he'd do what he could. Erik Bresnan was a priority acquisition, but we didn't have time for following him about.

  "Sophie, please allow me to get you safely out of here," Aengus pleaded.

  I sneered, but the Fleece tampered with it, returning my lips to a straight, expressionless line. We weren't sure what to do with Aengus yet. When we'd left the lower floors, it had been quiet. Those who'd been hiding had come out of their holes; we could hear them running, fighting and fleeing down below. With my back still to Aengus, we kicked up
into the air, flapped my wings a few times to gain some ground, and flipped backwards over his head.

  "This isn't a game, Sophie!" he called. "Your safety is—"

  I screeched out a wail, and heard him cry out in pain and surprise. The Fleece thought that was childish, but I didn't care.

  We landed hard in a crouch on the bottom floor, blades drawn and death lights hovering over the backs of my hands.

  Chaos surrounded me. They weren't just people who'd been hiding; a fresh wave of Derinians had made their way inside, and they were playing with their prey. The Fleece had no feelings on this; I was conflicted, something the Fleece had no time for. The fighting was primitive. With so many of them wielding fire magic, and so many of them impervious—or at least mostly safe—from fire, people were turning to more mundane means, as I'd seen on the streets of Mellosh. Some brandished broken bottles, a few wielded obsidian daggers. Low priority alone, but may do more as a group against other foes, the Fleece considered. They've proven to be good followers; they've already been broken. The Fleece put those thoughts in the positive column.

  A fresh wave of disgust rushed through me, but the Fleece pushed it back in much the same way I'd thought I'd been controlling it previously.

  One of them finally noticed us and swiped with his dagger. We knocked the blow aside and took his hand off with Haiku before letting him rush by us and stabbing him through the heart from behind with Epic.

  His absence briefly created an opening in the mob, revealing Ms. Scary Legs and the redcap in the center of the storm. She fought eight of them at a time, while he took on clustered groups. He left his weapons sheathed, preferring the fun of smashing his meaty fists brutally into his opponents.

  We considered them carefully, feeling out their potential in a way I couldn't understand. Ms. Scary Legs was a good fighter. She held no sway over the Derinians, but there were many in Faerie who followed her. We held enough command on our own, we had no use for anything she could offer us. We caught her eye. "Surrender," we commanded, and she curled in on herself. The Derinians were quick to remove her fireproof armor and light her up.

  The redcap… "Come to me," we told him, and he did. Many of the mob were celebrating around Ms. Scary Legs' corpse for the moment, but still the redcap swung his arms as he approached us. We gave him the full weight of our gaze, and he bent his knees slowly, eventually thudding heavily against the floor. "Do your brothers follow you?" we asked him.

  "They would," he said.

  "Gather them," we told him. "Gather as many as you can, and report to The Morrigan's castle. Do you know where that is?"

  "Yes, I can find it."

  "Report to the clansmen who live there and wait for me. In my absence, you may follow the instructions of a clansmen named Graulfv. Do not listen to The Morrigan."

  "Yes."

  "Go. Follow my instructions now. Don't waste any time."

  He raced away, eager to do our bidding.

  The fire was dying down, and the redcap's hasty exit drew the attention of some of the mob. They tapped the shoulders of those closest to them, rightly deciding they didn't want to take us on alone. On a cue I didn't notice, they charged, and our decision was made. We began cutting through them with wicked abandon. The Fleece did little to direct my body. I was born for this sort of thing. Some magical crown didn't need to tell me that. Still, the Fleece brought my body to new places. Pain was no longer an issue. Wounds here and there were barely felt, and not considered. We bent backwards, demanding more of my muscles than I ever had before. We ran at a lava slug and sliced the eye stalks off the top of its head, burning my forearm on its body.

  Someone in the crowd yelled after that, and while we hadn't paid attention to the words, the air went hot and dry as magic fire surrounded us. They'd figured out my armor wasn't fireproof and their magic would work on me. "Took you long enough," we told them. "This is why you weren't chosen." We looked around the crowd, meeting as many eyes as we could, dropping them to their knees. "Give in," we commanded. Those still standing swayed on their feet. I mowed through the crowd like they were wheat ripe for the scythe.

  The room was quiet, except for our work, so the footsteps charging up behind us were loud as church bells. We met them with a quick thrust from Haiku, driving it through their chest like it was a hot knife through butter. The dark figure crumpled to the ground, my sword sliding free. Before I saw the face, I knew. There was no weapon in her hand. The voice I'd heard a moment before finally reached my ears. "Sophie, stop!"

  The head fell to the side, tossing dark hair with it. I knew that hair. I knew that nose. I'd stabbed Belinda through the heart.

  The pain ripped through my whole body, worse than anything I'd felt before, a million times worse than when I'd given the Fleece control. As I regained control of my body, my mind scrambled away from it. I didn't want to be there.

  It didn't even make sense. What was Belinda doing there?

  The Fleece's hold was broken, both on me, and those around us. Bodies were moving, blurring, but I could only focus on the pale face in front of me. Belinda was more full of life than anyone, fiery and vibrant. Now, because of me, that was all gone. I'd killed the only mother I'd ever wanted.

  I fell to my knees at Belinda's side.

  Everything I'd done since stealing the king's mask rushed back to me. I'd killed my way through the entire castle. Most of the people I'd killed hadn't even been attacking me, not really; they'd only been in my way. I'd started killing because it was difficult to avoid. I'd decided that mine and Graulfv's lives were more important than a bunch of people who were lashing out at their oppressors. Erik Bresnan had been a convenient target.

  My own rage and desperation had made me so easy to mold, the Fleece had barely needed to hold on. I should have been stronger. I shouldn't have taken the risk of going anywhere with the crown still attached to me. I should have done so many things.

  None of this was helping. I swallowed bile and took Belinda's lifeless hand. Think. Think. Think. "Oh my fae."

  Belinda's chest was sticky beneath my palm as I covered her wound with my hand and summoned my healing magic. It took so much, and I'd already used so much magic in the fight, but the new magic was there. It welled up from deep inside my chest, filling my hands with a glowing red light.

  I pushed the magic into Belinda, and my breath caught. I hadn't pierced her heart as I thought. I'd nicked a major artery. My magic told me that her heart was still beating weakly. While it didn't take much magic to repair, I did have to replenish the blood loss, and I didn't have much left to give. The burning warmth rushing through my body was running out, and I desperately pulled on it, urging it to burn hotter, heal her better.

  As Belinda began to stir, my vision went dark around the edges. "Belinda," I mumbled, then the ground rushed at my face.

  "Sophie, you have to get up," said a familiar voice.

  "Ten more minutes."

  There was a sharp smack to my cheek, and the smell of blood and fire assaulted my senses. I jolted back to full consciousness and found myself staring into Belinda's tense face, both of us on our knees. The fighting Derinians blurred and tilted behind her. I was so dizzy.

  "Sophie, dial back on the fear magic," she begged.

  With effort, I reeled in my magic and clamped it down. I'd been pulling so hard on the healing magic, it was no wonder I'd let out something else. "S'okay now." I patted Belinda on the cheek and unsteadily pushed to my feet. "You're going to be okay now."

  A sharp burn lanced through my back, just above my shoulder. "Fuck!"

  Belinda lashed out with a fist and there was a meaty thump, then the sound of a body hitting the ground behind me.

  "I think somebody stabbed me," I mumbled, barely able to make out my own words.

  And then I was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When I woke, I was sprawled on a large bed in what appeared to be a high end hotel suite. The room was decorated in white with pops of color coming
from red throw pillows and knickknacks on shelves. I'd been dressed in white yoga pants and a white tank top. My swords were gone. The Fleece was still on my head.

  My hand went to my shoulder, expecting to find the wound that had been inflicted just before I'd lost consciousness. Instead, there was smooth skin. All of the other wounds I'd sustained were gone as well. I'd been healed. Now, all I had to do was find out where I was.

  I slipped out of the bed and immediately wanted to crawl back in and go to sleep. Even my toes were exhausted. I almost did just that—the exhausted part of my brain made the solid argument that if I was going to be hurt while I slept, it would have happened already—but waking up fresh from battle in an unknown place gave me enough adrenaline to remember that waking up in an unknown place could never truly be written off as "safe" until proven so.

  The window to my right was covered with gauzy white curtains. I brushed them aside and was met with a view of a clearing lined with blossoming cherry trees. My stomach sank. There was no glass in the arched opening, so I leaned forward to peek out the sides and confirm my suspicions. Rather than popping my head out into open air, it clunked against an invisible barrier. Magic.

  "Because plain old glass is just so mundane." I rolled my eyes.

  I couldn't remember anything about the journey getting there, but the magical window left little doubt in my mind. Those cherry blossoms were flesh-eating insects. I was being held captive in Aengus's castle.

  "Son of a bitch." Was he mad I'd taken down his ally's empire? Was he pissed off I'd stolen the fireproof armor, and then ruined it? Was he doing this to get to The Morrigan? I refused to entertain any possibility where his motivations were affected by my lineage. "Who cares about his reasons?" Nobody was going to hold me prisoner.

  The door, as I'd suspected, was locked. When I touched the wood I could feel magic radiating off it, so I wouldn't be kicking it off its hinges either. Not that I necessarily could; it looked heavy as hell.

  The bed called to me, the seductive temptress. I flopped down on it and was able to stay there for a full ten seconds before I started pacing the room. It wasn't in my nature to sit around and do nothing when some asshole was holding me captive. Besides, I was hungry.