Darkness Splintered

Chapter 9

Ania were minor demons and were generally summoned to perform tasks such as harassment, assault, and murder. The last two times they’d come after me they’d done so under orders from the Raziq, and I had no doubt that was who had sent them this time.

The attack itself wasn’t really surprising. If my father was aware that the sorcerer had the second key, then surely the Raziq would be. The only surprising thing was the fact they’d taken so long to get around to doing anything about it.

Another wisp of silver stirred to my left. There was more than one Ania here. But there had been the other times, too.

I rose, drew Amaya, then reached out for Azriel. Houston, we have a problem.

What? His reply was instant, concerned.

Ania.

I cannot transport from inside the Brindle. It will take me a few seconds —

No, I cut in, as a third flicker appeared. This one was closer than the others. I swung Amaya lightly from side to side, a warning of what would happen if they got close, and one I knew they would ignore.

What do you mean, no? Has insanity caught hold of you in the brief time I’ve been away?

More than likely. Despite the situation, amusement bubbled through me. But that’s beside the point. You said it yourself – the Raziq can’t hurt me.

That doesn’t mean you should let them snatch you.

But if I don’t, they’ll go after Ilianna or Tao instead. I won’t put them in any more danger than I already have, Azriel.

You value the life of your friends more than you value your own. His frustration and anger rolled through me, singeing my soul.

I’m no happier about this than you are. I somehow managed to keep my tone even. Reacting in anger wasn’t going to help the situation – I’d learned that from past mistakes, if nothing else. And I certainly have no desire to be pulled apart again.

Especially now that I was pregnant.

Then why go?

Because I do value the lives of my friends. The back of my neck tingled. The Ania’s numbers were growing, and it was all I could do to remain still. Look, what’s the worst they can do? They can’t kill me, because they still need me.

The Raziq are capable of more horrors than you could ever imagine.

Yeah, like making me think my flesh was melting from my hands. A shudder went through me and my stomach turned. That was another experience I had no desire to relive. They’ll snatch me, they’ll do their whole threatening spiel again, and then they’ll let me go. And we gain some time and space to find the damn key.

It is not worth —

It is, and you know it. I hesitated, fighting the urge to spin around and stab Amaya into the wispy hearts of the creatures who drew ever nearer. Amaya’s grumblings grew louder in my thoughts when I didn’t. You said you can find me anywhere now – will you also be able to hear me, even if the Raziq use their shield again?

Energy surged across my skin – Azriel, not more Ania. Though he didn’t physically appear, he was nevertheless standing beside me, the warmth of his presence rolling through me. God, I felt so much safer for it.

I do not know. His mental tones were annoyed. Perhaps.

Not what I wanted to hear. I licked dry lips, my gaze jumping to the left as another wisp darted forward. I swung Amaya and it hesitated. Obviously they were waiting for more of their kind before they attacked. Is there any way you can be transported with me?

Perhaps. He hesitated. But it would mean infusing my energy into yours, and that might cause an inappropriate reaction given the situation.

My eyebrows raised. Meaning what?

Reapers infuse energy when they have sex. The result will be similar.

As in, orgasmic?

Possibly.

I couldn’t help grinning. Well, if I’ve got to face the Raziq, I sure as hell can’t think of a better way to do it.

It could be distracting, and that could get dangerous.

So un-infuse once we’re in the Raziq’s presence. Problem solved.

That, he said, mental tones wry, is like asking a human male to pull out at the point of ejaculation. It’s easy enough to say, but it requires a great deal of control and presence of mind to actually do.

Are you telling me you have as little control as a human male?

When it comes to you, I think that’s a well-established fact. He paused, and all sense of amusement fled. Their numbers are near attacking point. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it fast.

Then do it.

Reach out your right hand.

I switched Amaya to my left hand and did so. Ethereal fingers enclosed around mine, a touch that was both electric and heated. My heart began to race, though it was a combination of fear and expectation.

Imagine, he said, that your hand is on my chest. Feel the rhythm of my breath. Breathe in as I breathe out.

It was hard to imagine anything when all I could see was the shimmering of the Ania.

Close your eyes. Concentrate. We have little more than a minute, at best.

I obeyed. Blocked out the awareness of the Ania and Amaya’s distant rumblings of unhappiness, and remembered the last time we’d done this. Remembered the feel of warm skin under my fingertips, the strong drumming of his heart.

Feel my breath on your lips, he continued softly. Imagine it running across your tongue and into your body. Let it fill you, become you.

Warm air teased my mouth. My lips parted and I drew it in, filling my throat with his taste and my lungs with the scent of him, until all I could feel and all I could sense was the energy of his presence. In me, around me.

Imagine that energy inhabiting every part of you. His voice was soft, hypnotic. Draw it within, deep within, until it infuses every atom, until we are connected not by skin, but by the essence of all that we are.

Energy swirled through me, around me. His and mine, burning bright, within and without, making me tremble. Ache. He was right. This was dangerous. But there was no other way. Not if we wanted to be absolutely sure he was there by my side to confront the Raziq.

Draw it in, accept it, he said quietly. Let flesh and energy truly become one.

I drew a deep breath and his energy became a river that flooded every part of me, until the music of his being played through my body and mine through his. It was a dance, a caress, a tease. Heat and movement and desire, and I slipped into the firestorm we’d created so very easily.

Power of a different kind spun around me. Ania. Fear surged and it was all I could do to ignore the dark and uneasy particles twisting around my flesh. Then the music of Azriel’s being surged anew, and awareness slipped away again, until there was nothing but him and me and the pleasure of the moment.

And god, it was glorious. It carried me away, made me soar ever higher, until I felt lighter than air, brighter than the sun…

Then it was gone, ripped away as I crashed back to earth – literally. I hit hard enough to knock the air from my lungs and, for too many seconds, breathing became impossible. I couldn’t even groan. The energy that was Azriel re-formed beside me, on his back. Though I felt the shudder of surprise that ran through him, he nevertheless scrambled to his feet, Valdis ablaze in his hand.

He scanned the area, then bent, grabbed my arm, and hauled me upright. Are you all right?

Yeah. A little shell-shocked after your abrupt departure from that rather pleasurable experience, but otherwise okay. I paused and glanced around. Where are we?

Underground.

Deep underground, if the stale air was anything to go by. I swung Amaya around. Her purple light parted the night, revealing the rock that surrounded us. Like the previous times the Raziq had kidnapped me, they’d dropped us into a cavern that didn’t seem to have either an entry or an exit point. Our tomb – for that’s what they always felt like – was about ten feet wide, and about the same height. At least we could stand, which was a definite improvement over previous occasions.

I glanced up at the ceiling. Once again, there was a faint, multicolored shimmer that reminded me of oil on water. I swore softly. That shimmer was a field of magic designed to prevent me from reaching for the Aedh – something I’d discovered the hard way the first time. At least this time, unlike the others, I wasn’t alone.

Wasn’t alone before, Amaya muttered. There was I.

One time, not the other.

Fault yours.

True. And it was the reason I rarely removed her these days. I glanced at Azriel. Can you sense them?

They are near.

But not near enough, I gathered from the edge in his voice.

Will they be able to read my thoughts? Hear me talking to you?

No. That applies to flesh beings and Aedh. You are more than either now.

Which explained why my father didn’t catch my thoughts when he’d confronted me earlier. It should have been a relief, but it only ratcheted up the tension. After all, if they couldn’t read my thoughts, they might be tempted to do something about it.

Not while I draw breath, they won’t, Azriel commented.

Does an energy being actually need to draw breath?

He half smiled. You know what I mean.

I do. And thank you.

He glanced at me, eyebrow raised. For what?

For always being here.

It is both my duty and my desire.

His words warmed me more than I could ever say. He was finally admitting to emotions, even if it was desire rather than love. But once upon a time he would have denied even that, even if his behavior suggested otherwise.

I scanned our surroundings again, knowing the Raziq were drawing closer but still unable to spot them. After a few seconds, an oddly dark surge of electricity ran across my skin. It made the little hairs at the back of my neck stand on end and my soul shiver away in fear.

They’d come within sensory distance. Whether that meant they were also within range of the swords I had no idea.

Unfortunately, no. The edge in Azriel’s mind voice was deeper, the frustration stronger.

It’s really not surprising given they’d sense your presence. The Raziq might be greater in numbers, but they weren’t fools. And they certainly had no desire to risk their lives – as evidenced by their continuing use of the Ania to do their dirty work. Not that either that fact or Azriel’s presence in any way lessened my fear of them. I licked my lips and gripped Amaya a little tighter. “Show yourself, Malin.”

My voice sounded oddly small in the damp, stale confines of the cavern.

“Malin is not here.” The disembodied voice was male, and while it held no threat, it nevertheless sent a chill down my spine. This was the Raziq I’d spoken to the first time I’d been captured – the Raziq who’d invaded my brain and made it seem like every part of me was being torn apart. A Raziq I thought I’d killed. Obviously, I was wrong.

Not. Sound same, Amaya said. Tasted sweet. Want more.

And I’d love to give you more. Trouble was, I doubted the Raziq would so foolishly expose themselves like that again.

“And even if she were,” the disembodied voice continued, “she would not be foolish enough to show herself with the Mijai present. His desire for revenge is so fierce it stains the fields.”

I snorted. “The only thing staining the fields is you lot. You’re the ones who made the goddamn keys and created this mess we all find ourselves in.”

“We do not need to justify our action to the likes of you —”

“No,” I cut in fiercely, “but you sure as hell have to depend on my help. And you know what? It’s about time you started remembering that. Because without me, there is no way on earth you’re going to get your greedy little mitts on those keys again.”

Risa, Azriel warned. As much as I agree with what you’re saying, antagonizing them might not be wise.

Well, I’ve fucking tried everything else, with little success. Maybe a little anger is precisely what’s needed. I hesitated. Are they close enough to attack yet?

No. They remain outside the barrier.

You can’t breach it?

Given time, Valdis could, but I see little point in weakening either of us that way.

Especially when the Raziq might be waiting for that very thing to happen. A weakened Mijai would be a far easier target.

“Do not think either yourself or your reaper are beyond the reach of our wrath,” the Raziq replied. “What I did to you, I could so easily do to him.”

“I suggest you look a little closer, Yeska.” Azriel’s voice was edged with contempt. “You would not find either of us such an easy target now.”

I gave Azriel a sharp glance. You know him?

We have crossed paths previously. He glanced at me, eyes glowing brightly in the blue and lilac light of the swords. He is Malin’s second. Valdis has tasted his blood in the past.

If the fierce flare of fire along Valdis’s sides was anything to go by, she longed to do so again. Why would a Mijai be sent after a Raziq?

When it became evident they were behind the systematic killing of Aedh priests. Yeska was caught and questioned.

Why wasn’t he killed? Reaper rules?

Yes. If we had known their ultimate plan, however, then perhaps intervention would have been ordered. Instead, it was simply left to the fates.

I snorted. The powers that be obviously had a hell of a lot more faith in fate than I did.

“Interesting,” the disembodied voice that was Yeska replied. “Two have become one. That would explain the lack of response in the device we placed in your heart.”

He could have been discussing the weather, for all the emotion in his voice. And yet, that device had been the only way they’d had of knowing when I was in my father’s presence, so it was a good bet there was a lot of background anger and frustration happening right now.

“Yes,” Azriel replied evenly. “And if you think to rectify the situation in any way, be prepared for the consequences. She is Mijai now. Attack one, and you attack all.”

That certainly explained the attitude of the reaper bearing the two swords. It wasn’t just that I’d made Azriel fail, it’s that I’d put them all in a bad light.

“We have no need to attack either of you,” Yeska replied, a hint of amusement in his tones. “She will comply when the lives of her friends are at stake.”

“No, she won’t,” I spat back. “Because if you harm one hair on the head of anyone I care about, I promise you, the remaining keys will be broken into little pieces and placed where absolutely no one —”

“Do not threaten us.” His fury whipped around us, snatching my breath and stinging my skin.

Amaya reacted instantly, her fire almost sun-bright. Just for a second, I caught a shimmer of energy behind the shield. The Raziq, and more than one of them.

Kill can, Amaya said.

I glanced at her sharply. How? Valdis can’t break the shield, and she’s stronger.

Am smarter, Amaya replied. Use floor.

I glanced down. Fuck, she was right. The floor wasn’t shielded. None of the cavern floors had been shielded, when I thought about it.

They’d see you coming. And see me throw her.

Flame out can.

Yeah, but there was still the whole throwing problem. Amaya could move under her own steam, but I suspected it would be easier for her to cut through the stone if she had some momentum behind her.

Under different circumstances, it would be a good plan, Azriel said. But it will achieve little in this instance, and only amplify the danger to your friends.

Then we need to nullify that first.

There is no reasoning with the Raziq. As with all Aedh, it is only their plans – their desires – that matter.

Then maybe that’s the tack we need to take. To the Raziq, I said, “Look, I don’t give a frig who actually gets the keys. I just want to get back to normal life again.”

That statement has a scarily fierce ring of truth about it, Azriel said.

I ignored him and continued on, “So, really, it behooves you to actually do what you can to help me rather than offering a long and tedious line of threats to both my near and dear.”

“We cannot help find the keys, because we have no idea where they are hidden.”

“No, but you can help me find the bastard who keeps stealing them from me.”

“That is not possible. We do not interact with the human world.”

Unless it was to fuck or torture us, of course, but I bit that remark back. “No, but you interact with the fields, and the sorcerer has to use magic to access the fields and the gates. Therefore, he must have a particular entry point somewhere on the fields.” After all, a door always opened into the same room. I didn’t know much about magic, but it seemed logical a transport portal would do the same. “If you shut that point down, it confines him to Earth, and gives me more time to find him and the key.”

“Why shut it down, when all we have to do is find it, and then wait for him to step through?”

Well, there was that. I hesitated, thinking fast. “Except he has to know that’s a possibility now that he no longer has Lucian to guard and guide him. He may wait until he has both the remaining keys to make his next move. The fact that he hasn’t used the second key even though he’s had it for several days certainly suggests this is a possibility.”

And I mentally crossed my fingers that Azriel was right, that the Raziq and my father couldn’t read my thoughts. That they’d believe this was a very real possibility, and not realize that the only reason our dark sorcerer hadn’t used the key was the fact that he still didn’t know which of the artifacts he’d stolen it was.

“Even so, all we would have to do —”

“No,” I cut in. “You’re not getting it. Our sorcerer was working with an Aedh – someone you not only tortured, but abandoned on Earth. Let me tell you, he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. And he was canny enough to ensure that, even if he was killed, you’d never get your mitts on the one thing you truly wanted.”

Dark energy flowed around me, thick and threatening. Amaya’s mental hissing ratcheted up another degree, and my heart began to pound a whole lot faster.

Azriel’s fingers entwined through mine and he squeezed them gently. It is not a threat. It is merely anger.

At whom?

The Aedh. He continues to taunt them, even when dead.

That’s presuming Lucian did actually do what I’m suggesting.

It is a logical line of thought, Azriel said. After all, the Aedh seeded Ilianna and Lauren so his genes would live on if he died. It is logical he would also ensure his plans for the keys lived on.

Ha. Me thinking logically. Who’d have thought that was possible?

Wisely, he refrained from saying anything about that. He squeezed my fingers again, then released them – leaving me mourning the loss of heat and strength that had flowed through the brief contact.

“How will finding the sorcerer’s entry point on the fields help you find this sorcerer?” Yeska eventually asked.

Great question. I hesitated again, then mentally shrugged. The Raziq probably knew as much about dark magic as I did, so a little bit of improvisation wasn’t going to hurt. And hey, there just might be a chance I was on the right track. “Portals use direct lines to go from one point to another; therefore, wherever his opening on the field is, it should be mirrored here. And if we can find his place of power here, we can use it to track him down.”

“And get us the key,” he added.

“And get the key,” I agreed. Who I gave it to was another matter entirely.

No, it’s not, Azriel said, tone sharp. For the safety of all, the Mijai must hold the keys.

And do you really think the Raziq will refrain from attacking the Mijai to get them back?

We are greater in number —

And they can use magic. My gaze met the steel of his. You said it yourself, Azriel—only their desires matter. They could very well decide to erase the reapers just as they have the Aedh.

They would not dare —

Why not? I cut in. Why would they care about reapers or souls being unguided? They don’t – their desire to permanently close the gates is evidence enough of that.

It would not be allowed.

I snorted softly. Who wouldn’t allow it? The powers that be? They could have stopped this whole mess in its tracks by stopping the Raziq before they got started, but they preferred to let fate have her way. Do you really think their decision would be any different when it came to reapers?

He didn’t answer. Maybe he couldn’t, simply because there was no real answer.

“If you do not hand us the keys,” Yeska said, voice flat, yet somehow filled with venom, “then all those you care about will not only lose their lives in this time, but in all their future times. They will be forever locked in this world, never to know life or love again.”

His words chilled me to the core. Yet fury rose, and it was all I could do not to throw Amaya. Threatening my life was one thing. Hell, I could understand them threatening the lives of my friends – even if I didn’t like it – but stripping them of all their futures and making them ghosts? That was totally unacceptable.

And it had to stop. Somehow, somewhere, I had to find a way to end all this and make my friends – and the world – safe.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Just let me know where the sorcerer’s entrance onto the fields is, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Do not double-cross us,” Yeska warned.

“I get it already,” I said, voice tight. “Now just get us out of here so we can get on with the business of tracking the key.”

“The reaper can get you out,” he replied. “Once we retreat, the shield will go down.”

“What, don’t you trust us?”

But there was no reply. The dark energy that was the Raziq had gone. I sheathed Amaya and let out a slow breath. “Well, that certainly went better than I expected.”

“Yes.” Azriel pulled me into his embrace and wrapped his arms around me. “I fear, however, you have only delayed the inevitable.”

“I know.” I closed my eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart, feeling so safe it had tears stinging my eyes. But it was an illusion. None of us were safe. Not even a Mijai warrior with centuries of fighting behind him. But I’m hoping that by the time they realize I have no intention of giving them the key, we’ll have figured out a way of stopping them from hurting anyone.

It is possible. Though more than likely impossible. He didn’t add that last bit, but the words hovered between us nevertheless. Shall we go get Ilianna, and see if she can create a doorway through those stones in the warehouse?

Yes. There wasn’t much else we could do right now.

A second later we were standing outside the Brindle. It was a white four-story building that had been built in the Victorian era – a grand old lady from a bygone time that was a whole lot more than she seemed. It was the home of all witch knowledge, and was protected by a veil of power so strong that there were very few in this world – or the next – who would dare test its boundaries. Though I’d never considered myself overly sensitive to magic, I’d always been aware of its presence here. But the sensation I got from the place now was weirdly different. It wasn’t just awareness – it felt like the power was alive. Energy crawled across my skin, its touch sharp, electric. Probing. The Brindle didn’t suffer evil to enter, but it had never reacted to me like this before Azriel’s presence in my life.

“It happens because you are now Mijai in waiting.” Azriel pressed his fingers against my spine, lightly guiding me toward the steps.

“But this was happening before you pulled me back from death.”

“Possibly because I was linked to your chi.”

It was more than that, and we both knew it. He’d been linked to my chi – or life energy, as Ilianna called it – from the beginning of this mess, and it was only very recently that the Brindle had begun reacting to me.

But I let the matter drop – at least for now – and took the steps two at a time. The huge, medieval-looking, wood and wrought-iron doors were open, and a slender, brown-haired, tunic-clad figure waited to the left of them – for us, I suspected.

“Risa, Azriel,” she said softly, as I approached. “Please follow me.”

We obeyed, our footsteps echoing softly on the marble tiles. The energy of this place was so strong that every step was accompanied by a spray of golden sparks. The Brindle’s interior tended to be somewhat austere, though the foyer’s brickwork had been painted a rich gold that added a warmth that the entrance otherwise lacked. We were led to the end of the hall and down some stairs, then into a wide hall that was lined with darkly stained timber and filled with shadows, despite the morning light. Sconces flickered on as we approached, then went dark once we’d passed, fueled by magic rather than electricity.

We turned right at the end of this hall, and went down a second set of stairs. After traversing another hallway, we reached the end and two large, intricately carved wooden doors. The slender witch opened one of these, ushered us through, then closed it. The room beyond reminded me somewhat of a medieval hall, with its gabled wooden roof and walls lined with tapestries. But it was the large protection circle that caught my eye – that, and the four women standing within it. Ilianna, Mirri, Kiandra, and Ilianna’s mom, Zaira.

I stopped immediately. Magic eddied around us – tides of power that itched at my skin – and I didn’t want to risk getting any closer in case my presence disturbed it in some way. For several minutes, no one moved; then Ilianna sighed and glanced my way.

“Are you having any luck unravelling the cord?” I said.

“Not yet.” Ilianna stepped carefully from the circle, then walked toward me. Her face was pale, strained. “Neither Mom nor Kiandra have come across anything like this before now, but I guess that’s natural, given the source. They’re relying on my limited knowledge in their attempts to unpick the various layers.”

“Well, you did reroute the magic in the warding stones my father left at Mom’s.”

And I had to wonder if that had been deliberate. After it, those stones were all that was stopping the Raziq from entering our home – the thought stalled, and I blinked as excitement surged. Maybe the damn answer to the Raziq problem had been sitting right in front of my nose all the time!

“Rerouting the magic of the stones was easy compared to this,” Ilianna said. “This collar is interlaced and complicated. I just don’t know if we’re going to have the time to dismantle it.”

Tears briefly shone in her eyes, but were rapidly blinked away. No time for tears. Not yet.

I looked at Mirri. Her expression was stoic, but fear lurked in the depth of her eyes. “You will. Have faith.”

“Faith is something I’m rapidly losing.” Ilianna paused, and glanced at Azriel. “Sorry, but it’s hard to keep believing when your bosses are doing squat to help the situation as far as I can see.”

“They tend not to interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

“Seems to me the opening of hell and the possible destruction of both Earth and the gray fields would make interference a necessity.”

“Hence the reason I am here,” he replied. “More Mijai are not practical in this situation.”

“Meaning if it was warranted, more would come?”

“If necessary, then yes.”

“I guess that’s something.” She returned her gaze to me. “I’m gathering you’re not just here for a progress report.”

“No.” I hesitated. “But I have a question about the warding stones before I get into that. Are you able to replicate the spell on the stones? And if so, would it be possible to make some sort of personal protection circle using it?”

She frowned. “I could repeat the spell, no problem, but I don’t know —”

“It’s possible,” Kiandra cut in.

I glanced past Ilianna. Kiandra’s attention was still on the cord wrapped around Mirri’s neck, but she’d obviously been keeping tabs on our conversation, despite the fact we’d been speaking softly.

“But,” she continued, “the spell would need to be fed into the energy of the wearer to have any long-lasting benefit.”

“That sounds like we’d be stepping into blood magic territory.”

“No, we would not,” Kiandra said. “Tapping into the wearer’s aura or life force is no different from drawing strength from the elements or from the earth.”

“But,” I said, “drawing power from the elements or the earth has its cost – it saps the witch’s strength and leaves her vulnerable to attack from darker forces if the drawing isn’t done within a protection circle. You can hardly employ a protection circle in the case of a portable warding device.”

“Who’d have thought you knew so much about magic,” Ilianna murmured, a smile touching her lips.

“I have been hanging around a witch for most of my life,” I said dryly. “Some stuff rubs off, even on someone as thickheaded as me.”

Azriel’s amusement rolled through the back of my thoughts, soft and enticing. If I had said that, you would be very annoyed.

You may not have said it, reaper, but you certainly thought it.

That, he replied, amusement stronger, is undoubtedly true.

“The difference in this case,” Kiandra said, “is that the wearer would be performing no magic, so there is no need for a protection spell of any sort.”

Which didn’t mean it wouldn’t still drain the energy of the wearer. “How would it work?”

“It would be similar to the micro cells you wear. Four stones would need to be worn on four points of the body, which would then create a self-sustaining continuous circuit of energy and provide protection against any force they were set to.”

“In other words, if they were set to protect against the Raziq, the Raziq would not be able to either physically or mentally harm them?”

“In theory, yes.”

Right now, theory was all we had. “How soon could you start making half a dozen sets of these stones?”

Kiandra blew out a breath. “Mirri is our priority —”

“I know,” I cut in. “I meant once Mirri is safe.”

“A few days, at the very least. And only if Ilianna is willing to be involved in their creation.”

I frowned at the odd note in Kiandra’s voice. Ilianna didn’t immediately reply, but her expression had clouded over. She looked… wary. Scared.

“Ilianna,” I immediately said, “you don’t have to do this. We can find another way.”

I might not know what was wrong, but I didn’t want – in any way – to put her in a position that would give the Brindle some sort of hold over her. Because I suspected that was what was involved. That her staying there, creating magic, would be a step onto a road and life that Ilianna had fled when she was a teenager. A path that Zaira had said, not so long ago, would find her daughter again.

“Are these stones really necessary?” she asked eventually. Her voice was even, but her expression was still troubled.

“The Raziq snatched me again tonight.” I hesitated, but she had the right to know exactly what we were all facing. “They threatened to not only kill everyone I care about, but make them ghosts. If these stones don’t work —”

“Heaven help us,” she finished, then nodded. “Fine. Once we unravel the energy imprisoning Mirri, I’ll help the Brindle make the aural wards.”

I couldn’t help but give a silent sigh of relief. Ilianna might well be stepping onto that path, but better that than her being dead. Or worse, a ghost. “Thanks, Ilianna.”

She nodded. “Anything else?”

I hesitated. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter now given you can’t really leave Mirri —”

“Just tell me what you need,” she cut in, voice flat. “If I can help, I will.”

“We need someone to create some sort of doorway into a warding circle.”

She frowned. “I do not think I could spare —”

“You do not need to,” Kiandra cut in. “I’ll send one of the fifth-year trainees. They will be more than capable of handling such a task.”

Being a trainee at the Brindle didn’t mean you were new to magic. It was quite the opposite, in fact. Witches came here to hone their skills and to become both a master and a teacher. I knew it took at least ten years to reach the master rank, so she was sending someone pretty damn proficient.

“Thank you, Kiandra.”

She nodded without looking at us. “Ilianna, I believe Rozelle is available. But look after her, reaper, or I will be displeased.”

Azriel bowed, the movement regal. “You have my word no harm will befall her.”

Ilianna caught my arm and guided me back out the door. “Has there been any word from Tao yet?”

“No.”

She grimaced. “I fear for him, Risa. I can’t see anything but fire in his future.”

“He’ll pull through this. He’s stronger than you think.”

“I hope you’re right.” But her expression said that I wasn’t.

And maybe she was right. Maybe there wasn’t any future for him. But that didn’t mean I could give up. I wouldn’t, not until every single option had been explored and abandoned.

We went back up to the next level and into a section that I knew from past visits held the sleeping quarters for the witches stationed here. Rozelle was tall, pretty, and looked all of twenty. Which meant she had either become magic proficient at a very early age, or she was much older than she looked. Most witches didn’t usually begin the master’s training until they were at least thirty.

Ilianna explained who we were and what we wanted, and Rozelle bounced up from her seat, gathering magical bits and pieces and carefully placing them into a carryall.

“Right,” she said, “Let’s go.”

Her warm tones held an edge of excitement that made me smile. Obviously, things had been a little slow here at the Brindle lately. I gave Ilianna a hug, then said, “Keep strong. We’ll all get through this, I promise.”

She smiled, but didn’t say anything. Because she knew, like I knew, my promise was empty. No one knew how all this was going to pan out.

Not even, I was beginning to suspect, fate.

Azriel transported us, one at a time, back to the warehouse.

“Wow,” Rozelle said, blinking rapidly and wavering a little as she reappeared. “That’s certainly a novel way to get about. Not something I’d like to do too often, though.”

“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “But we’re on a tight deadline and it’s the quickest way to travel.”

“Then let’s get on with —” she stopped, and her gaze widened a little. “That man’s not dead, is he?”

I glanced down at the shifter. “No. He’s merely in an enforced sleep.”

“Oh, good.” She cleared her throat, then added, “Let’s get to these stones. Although I’m hoping they’re not the ones creating the barrier around this building, because that is way beyond my capabilities.”

My eyebrows rose. “You can sense that?”

She nodded. “Although it has an energy that feels rather weird.”

“That’s because it was created by a dark sorcerer, and designed to keep me out,” Azriel commented. “It will not, however, prevent you from entering, nor will it harm you.”

“Oh, good,” she repeated, then paused, her eyes narrowing a little. “In case you’re interested, the source of the energy seems to be coming from under the building, which is rather odd. Shielding stones usually have to be placed at each corner for them to work efficiently.”

I glanced at Azriel. If the source is underground, maybe that’s what the smaller circle is protecting.

Possibly. What we need to discover, however, is what this building might be protecting beyond the shielding stones and the transport gate you found. There has to be something else here. He paused, then added out loud, “Be careful.”

“You keep saying that,” I said, amused. “Anyone would think you don’t trust me to look after myself.”

“Well, you do have the unfortunate habit of stepping into trouble.” His voice was dry. “And remember, I cannot help you if you find it here.”

“I have Amaya. We’ll cope.” I dropped a kiss on his lips, resisted the urge to do a whole lot more, then said to Rozelle, “Follow me.”

I led the way into the building, retracing my steps to prevent creating too many obviously new footprints in the muck coating the floor.

“Well,” Rozelle said, her gaze narrowing as she stopped several feet away from the inky wall that masked the stone circle. “That’s particularly nasty, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my hand and showed her the red marks where the blisters had been. “I wouldn’t get too close, either.”

“I wasn’t intending to.” She handed me her carryall, then walked the length of the wall, examining it warily. She stopped close to the back wall and said, “Okay, here’s the sorcerer’s point of entry.”

“How can you tell?”

She glanced at me, her expression amused. “Because I’m a witch and that’s what I’m trained to do.” She walked back around until she was standing on the opposite side of the circle to the doorway. “We shall make our entrance here. Our sorcerer is less likely to sense it. My bag, if you would be so kind.”

I handed over the bag. “Won’t he sense the break in his magic?”

“Perhaps, if he is looking for it.” Her gaze met mine. “There is no other way to enter this circle, though.”

“Then do it.”

She drew out her athame and made a protection circle, then sat cross-legged on the ground and began the incantation to create the doorway.

After several minutes, the shadows began to retreat, until a gap that was about two feet square had formed. It revealed not only several black stones but the concrete and metal steps beyond them.

Rozelle sighed and opened her eyes. “That is the best I can do. The spell around these stones is more intricate than I first thought, so if I create anything larger, it may be visible to our sorcerer.”

I frowned. “Surely he’d notice the fact that there’s now no shadows around one section of his circle?”

“No, because it was designed to be visible to only you and me. But as I said, if he’s looking for intrusion, he will notice the threads I have woven into his magic.”

“A chance we’ll have to take. Thanks for your help, Rozelle.”

She nodded, but didn’t move. “I’ll wait here, just on the off chance you need me down there.”

I frowned. “I’m not sure that’s wise. Azriel can’t get into the building if something goes wrong, and we promised Kiandra —”

“No one and nothing is getting into my circle,” she replied, amusement in her tones. “I made sure of that. Go. I’ll be safe, I promise.”

I hesitated, but really, short of dragging her free of her circle – not something I was convinced I could do given the strength of the barrier she’d raised – I had no other option but to proceed.

I dropped to my hands and knees, took a deep breath that didn’t do a whole lot to bolster my courage, and went in.

Nothing jumped out at me.

I rose and drew Amaya. Light flared down her sides, shifting the shadows and gleaming off the metal stair rails. I walked over and peered down. All I could see was deeper shadows.

Something, Amaya said.

I frowned. Meaning what? That there’s something or someone waiting down there for us?

Magic, she said. Some kind.

Great. Not.

I briefly thought about retreating, but that really wasn’t an option. Not if I wanted to find the keys and save Mirri. Ilianna might yet be able to unravel the cord, but I wasn’t about to bet Mirri’s life on it. I gripped Amaya a little tighter and cautiously headed down. My footsteps echoed on the metal, and the sound reverberated across the thick silence. I bit my lip, my nerves crawling, as each step took me farther into the bowels of the earth and whatever it was Amaya had sensed.

My foot had barely touched the bottom step when I heard it. A low rumbly sound that had the hair on the back of my neck rising.

I paused, listening. The sound was not repeated, but something definitely was down here.

Amaya?

Magic ahead.

Maybe it was, but magic didn’t make low rumbly noises. Not any sort of magic I knew, anyway. I raised Amaya and let her light fan out across the shadows. The room was long and cavernous but it wasn’t a cavern, rather an actual, concrete-lined storeroom that was filled to the brim with dusty, somewhat rusty metal shelving. Meaning it, like the stairs, was part of the building rather than something our sorcerers had created. I guess that made sense; why build something when it was easier to protect what was already here?

But did the fact the shelves all appeared empty mean there was nothing here to find?

Something, Amaya repeated. Magic. Life.

What sort of life. Demon?

No. Living.

Which really didn’t clarify things. I bit my lip, then stepped onto the concrete.

And found more of that trouble Azriel had mentioned cannoning straight at me.