Bright Blaze of Magic
Page 27
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“What happened tonight?” Devon asked. “Before the Draconis stormed into the restaurant?”
“Dad called everyone into the dining hall at the Draconi mansion and told us about his plan to attack the other Families at the restaurant, and Blake started passing out the fake black blades to all the guards.”
Deah glanced down at her own sword, which was propped up in the floorboard at her feet. The glow from a nearby streetlamp made the three stars carved into the hilt gleam.
“That’s your regular sword,” I said. “They didn’t give you one of the fake weapons?”
She shook her head, making her damp blond hair flap against her shoulders. “Of course not. My dad could tell that I was horrified by his plan. I argued with him and Blake, tried to convince them not to go through with it, tried to tell them that it was cold-blooded murder, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They never listen to me.”
Felix finished his latest unanswered call and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Then what happened?”
“Dad took my phone away so I couldn’t warn anyone about the attack.” She hesitated. “He also had a couple of guards lock my mom in her room and stay behind with her. Just in case I got any ideas about fighting back and trying to stop him.”
“So he threatened Seleste and blackmailed you into going along with them,” Felix said.
Deah nodded. “They forced me into an SUV, and we drove down to the restaurant. But when we got there, I noticed that not all of the guards had come with us. I wondered why, but no one was even talking to me at that point. And now that Felix can’t reach anyone at your mansion. . . ”
She bit her lip and looked at Devon in the rearview mirror. “I think . . . I think my dad sent the rest of the guards to the Sinclair mansion.” Tears gleamed in her eyes, and her voice dropped to a hoarse, ragged whisper. “I’m sorry. So sorry. For everything.”
Devon glanced back at her and gave her a sharp nod. “It’s okay. I understand. If it had been my mom in danger, I would have done the same thing.”
Deah blinked away her tears and nodded back. “Thank you. But I should have stood up to my dad. I should have found some way to get my mom out of there, or at least warned you guys about what was happening.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “It was an impossible choice.”
“And I made the wrong one. What did I accomplish by going along with them? Nothing,” she spat out the word. “Because innocent people still died, and my mom is still up at the Draconi mansion, and who knows what my dad and Blake will do to her now that I’ve basically defected from the Family.”
Her dark blue gaze dropped to the gold cuff on her wrist. We passed another streetlamp, and the glow highlighted the snarling dragon crest stamped into the metal, making it look as though the monster were about to leap off the cuff and sink its teeth into her. Deah’s mouth twisted with anger and disgust, and she yanked it off. She rolled down the window, as if she was going to hurl the cuff outside, but I reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Don’t you dare do that,” I said.
“Why not?” she muttered.
“Are you kidding me? That cuff is solid gold. It’s worth a fortune,” I drawled, trying to lighten the mood and cheer her up, if only for a few seconds.
For a moment, a ghost of a smile flashed across her face, but it quickly vanished. Deah hesitated, then rolled up the window. She stared at her Draconi cuff again, but instead of putting it back on her wrist, she slid it into her pocket before finally looking at me. Our eyes locked and I felt all of her deep, bitter, aching regret about everything that had happened tonight, along with her sharp worry for her mom.
Deah looked at me for another second before turning and staring out the window again. I opened my mouth to keep talking, but I thought better of it and clamped my lips shut. If I’d just been through what she had, I would have wanted some peace and quiet too. But I did reach over and place my hand on top of hers, letting her know I was here for her. After a second, Deah curled her fingers into mine.
And we stayed like that for the rest of the ride, drawing what strength, comfort, and support we could from each other, knowing that this horrible night was far, far from over.
Devon carefully steered up the curvy roads, his hands tensing around the wheel every time we passed another car. But none of the other vehicles had the Draconi crest painted on the doors, so he was able to drive all the way up the mountain with no problems.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled the car into a parking lot that led to a scenic overlook of a waterfall that was about a mile away from the Sinclair mansion. The area was deserted, since it was after ten now, but we all knew that it was risky to just drive up to the mansion, expecting everything to be fine. Blake might think that the lochness had drowned us, but if I were him, I would still have posted guards at the mansion just in case we weren’t dead and decided to go back there.
Devon parked the SUV underneath a couple of weeping willows, trying to hide it in the trees’ long green tendrils and the shadows they cast. Then the four of us got out of the car.
Devon, Deah, and I drew our weapons, but I frowned at the stolen sword in my hand. I hadn’t noticed it until right now, but the black blade didn’t feel cold to the touch anymore. In fact, I couldn’t feel any magic pulsing through the bloodiron at all. Weird. And all the stolen magic had burned out of my body as well.
“What’s wrong?” Devon asked.
“This sword was one of the real black blades,” I said, swinging it back and forth. “But it doesn’t have any magic in it anymore.”
“But how is that possible?” Felix asked. “You didn’t stab yourself with it. Isn’t that the only way to get magic out of a black blade?”
Deah tilted her head to the side, studying me and the sword. “Maybe not. Maybe Lila used up all the magic without having to stab herself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your transference Talent lets you absorb and use any magic that you come into contact with, right?”
“Yeah . . .”
She shrugged. “So you’ve been holding on to that sword for more than an hour now. Maybe that’s all you needed to do to tap into the magic that was stored inside it.”
Even though I’d had a similar thought back at the restaurant, I still looked at the sword, unease slithering down my spine. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I’d thought that my transference Talent and the magic I stole with it only made me stronger. But when Katia Volkov had stabbed me, I’d discovered that I could also use the power I absorbed from others to heal myself. And now, I’d somehow sucked all the magic out of a black blade without even trying.
“Dad called everyone into the dining hall at the Draconi mansion and told us about his plan to attack the other Families at the restaurant, and Blake started passing out the fake black blades to all the guards.”
Deah glanced down at her own sword, which was propped up in the floorboard at her feet. The glow from a nearby streetlamp made the three stars carved into the hilt gleam.
“That’s your regular sword,” I said. “They didn’t give you one of the fake weapons?”
She shook her head, making her damp blond hair flap against her shoulders. “Of course not. My dad could tell that I was horrified by his plan. I argued with him and Blake, tried to convince them not to go through with it, tried to tell them that it was cold-blooded murder, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They never listen to me.”
Felix finished his latest unanswered call and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Then what happened?”
“Dad took my phone away so I couldn’t warn anyone about the attack.” She hesitated. “He also had a couple of guards lock my mom in her room and stay behind with her. Just in case I got any ideas about fighting back and trying to stop him.”
“So he threatened Seleste and blackmailed you into going along with them,” Felix said.
Deah nodded. “They forced me into an SUV, and we drove down to the restaurant. But when we got there, I noticed that not all of the guards had come with us. I wondered why, but no one was even talking to me at that point. And now that Felix can’t reach anyone at your mansion. . . ”
She bit her lip and looked at Devon in the rearview mirror. “I think . . . I think my dad sent the rest of the guards to the Sinclair mansion.” Tears gleamed in her eyes, and her voice dropped to a hoarse, ragged whisper. “I’m sorry. So sorry. For everything.”
Devon glanced back at her and gave her a sharp nod. “It’s okay. I understand. If it had been my mom in danger, I would have done the same thing.”
Deah blinked away her tears and nodded back. “Thank you. But I should have stood up to my dad. I should have found some way to get my mom out of there, or at least warned you guys about what was happening.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “It was an impossible choice.”
“And I made the wrong one. What did I accomplish by going along with them? Nothing,” she spat out the word. “Because innocent people still died, and my mom is still up at the Draconi mansion, and who knows what my dad and Blake will do to her now that I’ve basically defected from the Family.”
Her dark blue gaze dropped to the gold cuff on her wrist. We passed another streetlamp, and the glow highlighted the snarling dragon crest stamped into the metal, making it look as though the monster were about to leap off the cuff and sink its teeth into her. Deah’s mouth twisted with anger and disgust, and she yanked it off. She rolled down the window, as if she was going to hurl the cuff outside, but I reached out and grabbed her hand.
“Don’t you dare do that,” I said.
“Why not?” she muttered.
“Are you kidding me? That cuff is solid gold. It’s worth a fortune,” I drawled, trying to lighten the mood and cheer her up, if only for a few seconds.
For a moment, a ghost of a smile flashed across her face, but it quickly vanished. Deah hesitated, then rolled up the window. She stared at her Draconi cuff again, but instead of putting it back on her wrist, she slid it into her pocket before finally looking at me. Our eyes locked and I felt all of her deep, bitter, aching regret about everything that had happened tonight, along with her sharp worry for her mom.
Deah looked at me for another second before turning and staring out the window again. I opened my mouth to keep talking, but I thought better of it and clamped my lips shut. If I’d just been through what she had, I would have wanted some peace and quiet too. But I did reach over and place my hand on top of hers, letting her know I was here for her. After a second, Deah curled her fingers into mine.
And we stayed like that for the rest of the ride, drawing what strength, comfort, and support we could from each other, knowing that this horrible night was far, far from over.
Devon carefully steered up the curvy roads, his hands tensing around the wheel every time we passed another car. But none of the other vehicles had the Draconi crest painted on the doors, so he was able to drive all the way up the mountain with no problems.
Thirty minutes later, he pulled the car into a parking lot that led to a scenic overlook of a waterfall that was about a mile away from the Sinclair mansion. The area was deserted, since it was after ten now, but we all knew that it was risky to just drive up to the mansion, expecting everything to be fine. Blake might think that the lochness had drowned us, but if I were him, I would still have posted guards at the mansion just in case we weren’t dead and decided to go back there.
Devon parked the SUV underneath a couple of weeping willows, trying to hide it in the trees’ long green tendrils and the shadows they cast. Then the four of us got out of the car.
Devon, Deah, and I drew our weapons, but I frowned at the stolen sword in my hand. I hadn’t noticed it until right now, but the black blade didn’t feel cold to the touch anymore. In fact, I couldn’t feel any magic pulsing through the bloodiron at all. Weird. And all the stolen magic had burned out of my body as well.
“What’s wrong?” Devon asked.
“This sword was one of the real black blades,” I said, swinging it back and forth. “But it doesn’t have any magic in it anymore.”
“But how is that possible?” Felix asked. “You didn’t stab yourself with it. Isn’t that the only way to get magic out of a black blade?”
Deah tilted her head to the side, studying me and the sword. “Maybe not. Maybe Lila used up all the magic without having to stab herself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your transference Talent lets you absorb and use any magic that you come into contact with, right?”
“Yeah . . .”
She shrugged. “So you’ve been holding on to that sword for more than an hour now. Maybe that’s all you needed to do to tap into the magic that was stored inside it.”
Even though I’d had a similar thought back at the restaurant, I still looked at the sword, unease slithering down my spine. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I’d thought that my transference Talent and the magic I stole with it only made me stronger. But when Katia Volkov had stabbed me, I’d discovered that I could also use the power I absorbed from others to heal myself. And now, I’d somehow sucked all the magic out of a black blade without even trying.
