Dark Blood
Page 55
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Branislava closed her eyes and sent her own prayer to the universe, calling on all things good and right for aid.
Valerian, Lemon Balm, German Chamomile,
I call forth your essence to calm and wile.
Lavender, Catnip, heed my call,
Bring peaceful sleep so evil may not call.
Damon’s eyes closed obediently under the blindfold, his face peaceful, not showing any of the stress that had been stamped there just minutes before.
Gregori unexpectedly reached out and took both of Branislava’s hands. “You have great courage, Dragonseeker courage. This time you are not alone in your fight to save this man. We’re with you and will aid you in every possible way. More, you are tied, spirit and soul to your lifemate. He is Dark Blood—from our strongest line of warriors. I have no doubt that you can do this and triumph.”
In those strange liquid silver eyes that had always given her pause, as they were so much like those of the High Mage, Xavier, and that of his brothers, she saw the fire reflected there—her fire. She was the manipulator of fire.
She nodded her head again, and then glanced around the circle to each one of her sister-kin—the Dragonseeker women. Tatijana, so beloved, so close she would always be a part of Branislava. Young Skyler, so powerful and intelligent, a young sister full of life. Ivory, elusive and a skilled warrior, loyal and poetic. They surrounded her, ready to fight with her.
And Zev. Her wolf. Her everything. When had it gotten to be that way? She didn’t even know, but he was her other half. She loved everything about him, and her faith in him would never waiver. He was her protector and he stood ready.
Branislava let go of her own body with confidence, becoming pure healing energy. It was always a bit of a wrench going from physical to astral, but once she shed her physical form, there was a sense of freedom unlike any she’d ever experienced.
She moved into Damon. He was calm, but she felt the watchful presence of his wolf. She sent the animal side of the Lycan both friendship and reassurance, grateful that Zev’s aura was so strong. The wolf recognized him and settled without protest. She knew where the shadow had adhered to the brain, forming a lesion for Xaviero to use as an entry point. He could take control of Damon through the small stain and direct his activities. It was an abomination of life and free will and it wasn’t tolerated by any society, yet Xaviero had managed to infect many of the Lycans without anyone’s knowledge.
Branislava thought of this moment as her first real strike back at the High Mage. No one had ever managed to oppose him, not and lived to tell about it. She studied the area around the shadow. The ridges and valleys around the darker spot appeared to be untouched. She wasn’t fooled. Xaviero’s traps were clever and strong. He twisted light and bent it, weaving it into his spells so his most deadly traps always appeared to be the safest path to take.
Scattered throughout the grayish matter were those white cells—the filaments carrying commands. She saw the clever spots Xaviero had left around his shadow, those marks meant to trick an enemy into believing those were the places to avoid while the real danger was the very innocent-looking white filaments the mage used to send his commands throughout Damon’s body.
She moved around the hot spots checking for the current of dark magic energy the mage couldn’t help but leave behind. The moment she encountered it, she stayed perfectly still in her form as well as in her mind. Absolute calm was called for as she tested a strand of the weave like a delicate spider, her touch light, almost nonexistent. Had she still been inside her body her heart would have accelerated and her mouth would have gone dry. She felt the adrenaline and buildup of stress, with no real way to rid herself of it.
Your great advantage is that you have seen his work a million times, yet he has never once seen yours.
Zev. Her protector. He was to stay silent, waiting for his moment to feed her his strength, but there was so much more to their partnership. He had given her truth. He was so right. Xaviero had dismissed Tatijana and Branislava so easily, using them for his audience just as Xavier had done, but he had never credited them with brains or the ability to learn from him and his brothers.
You learned from all three. Doesn’t that give you more knowledge?
Sadly, she’d learned all of it, both white and black magic.
Not sadly. You have knowledge that will help defeat a mage bent on destroying three species and ruling another. Don’t you think there is a higher purpose for your skills? No one else can stop this mage.
Zev had a way of cutting through the emotion to get to the very heart of the truth. Again she examined those telling white filaments. Tiny microscopic hairs, so delicate she would have missed them had she not known what to look for. They were so thin, those weaves, one layer on top of the next so that a web of protection surrounded the shadow. Looking closer, she saw the weave formed a snare over the mark, but the hairs were darker, blending with the shadow.
I know this one. His classic blend of light and dark. He starts with white magic, using elements that are good, goes to those that are neutral and then calls upon darkness to hide within the weave he’s made. He spins those strands over and over, a seven-point weave that is strong. But I can go backward and carefully remove the seven strands.
Branislava expanded her mind, calling on the power within, that smoldering fire always present in her deepest depth, running through her veins like molten lava.
Spirits I call you, twist and unbind,
That which was born of gray magic,
To entrap and entwine.
Dark is to light as light is to gray,
Each strand I unwrap,
To send darkness away.
Future to present, present to past,
Unwrap that which was woven,
So no more shall it cast.
One by one, those strands fell away, the tiny hairs pulling back to allow her to see the actual shadow she had to remove. Just to be certain she was safe, because she didn’t trust Xaviero would not have a fail-safe, she took another careful look around the entire vicinity near the mage-shadow. There was no visual evidence of another trap, but she felt uneasy each time she got a little closer to the shadow and she kept her energy as low and as dim as possible, not wanting to accidentally spill across that shadow when she was certain there was another safeguard.
She studied the mark from every direction, first moving above it. She thought she caught a little glimmer, but it was gone before she could actually know for certain. She approached from the left side and saw nothing at all. From below, she caught the same flicker of movement, but it was gone as quickly as she noted it. From the right, a brief little shimmer told her for certain there was another weave.
Valerian, Lemon Balm, German Chamomile,
I call forth your essence to calm and wile.
Lavender, Catnip, heed my call,
Bring peaceful sleep so evil may not call.
Damon’s eyes closed obediently under the blindfold, his face peaceful, not showing any of the stress that had been stamped there just minutes before.
Gregori unexpectedly reached out and took both of Branislava’s hands. “You have great courage, Dragonseeker courage. This time you are not alone in your fight to save this man. We’re with you and will aid you in every possible way. More, you are tied, spirit and soul to your lifemate. He is Dark Blood—from our strongest line of warriors. I have no doubt that you can do this and triumph.”
In those strange liquid silver eyes that had always given her pause, as they were so much like those of the High Mage, Xavier, and that of his brothers, she saw the fire reflected there—her fire. She was the manipulator of fire.
She nodded her head again, and then glanced around the circle to each one of her sister-kin—the Dragonseeker women. Tatijana, so beloved, so close she would always be a part of Branislava. Young Skyler, so powerful and intelligent, a young sister full of life. Ivory, elusive and a skilled warrior, loyal and poetic. They surrounded her, ready to fight with her.
And Zev. Her wolf. Her everything. When had it gotten to be that way? She didn’t even know, but he was her other half. She loved everything about him, and her faith in him would never waiver. He was her protector and he stood ready.
Branislava let go of her own body with confidence, becoming pure healing energy. It was always a bit of a wrench going from physical to astral, but once she shed her physical form, there was a sense of freedom unlike any she’d ever experienced.
She moved into Damon. He was calm, but she felt the watchful presence of his wolf. She sent the animal side of the Lycan both friendship and reassurance, grateful that Zev’s aura was so strong. The wolf recognized him and settled without protest. She knew where the shadow had adhered to the brain, forming a lesion for Xaviero to use as an entry point. He could take control of Damon through the small stain and direct his activities. It was an abomination of life and free will and it wasn’t tolerated by any society, yet Xaviero had managed to infect many of the Lycans without anyone’s knowledge.
Branislava thought of this moment as her first real strike back at the High Mage. No one had ever managed to oppose him, not and lived to tell about it. She studied the area around the shadow. The ridges and valleys around the darker spot appeared to be untouched. She wasn’t fooled. Xaviero’s traps were clever and strong. He twisted light and bent it, weaving it into his spells so his most deadly traps always appeared to be the safest path to take.
Scattered throughout the grayish matter were those white cells—the filaments carrying commands. She saw the clever spots Xaviero had left around his shadow, those marks meant to trick an enemy into believing those were the places to avoid while the real danger was the very innocent-looking white filaments the mage used to send his commands throughout Damon’s body.
She moved around the hot spots checking for the current of dark magic energy the mage couldn’t help but leave behind. The moment she encountered it, she stayed perfectly still in her form as well as in her mind. Absolute calm was called for as she tested a strand of the weave like a delicate spider, her touch light, almost nonexistent. Had she still been inside her body her heart would have accelerated and her mouth would have gone dry. She felt the adrenaline and buildup of stress, with no real way to rid herself of it.
Your great advantage is that you have seen his work a million times, yet he has never once seen yours.
Zev. Her protector. He was to stay silent, waiting for his moment to feed her his strength, but there was so much more to their partnership. He had given her truth. He was so right. Xaviero had dismissed Tatijana and Branislava so easily, using them for his audience just as Xavier had done, but he had never credited them with brains or the ability to learn from him and his brothers.
You learned from all three. Doesn’t that give you more knowledge?
Sadly, she’d learned all of it, both white and black magic.
Not sadly. You have knowledge that will help defeat a mage bent on destroying three species and ruling another. Don’t you think there is a higher purpose for your skills? No one else can stop this mage.
Zev had a way of cutting through the emotion to get to the very heart of the truth. Again she examined those telling white filaments. Tiny microscopic hairs, so delicate she would have missed them had she not known what to look for. They were so thin, those weaves, one layer on top of the next so that a web of protection surrounded the shadow. Looking closer, she saw the weave formed a snare over the mark, but the hairs were darker, blending with the shadow.
I know this one. His classic blend of light and dark. He starts with white magic, using elements that are good, goes to those that are neutral and then calls upon darkness to hide within the weave he’s made. He spins those strands over and over, a seven-point weave that is strong. But I can go backward and carefully remove the seven strands.
Branislava expanded her mind, calling on the power within, that smoldering fire always present in her deepest depth, running through her veins like molten lava.
Spirits I call you, twist and unbind,
That which was born of gray magic,
To entrap and entwine.
Dark is to light as light is to gray,
Each strand I unwrap,
To send darkness away.
Future to present, present to past,
Unwrap that which was woven,
So no more shall it cast.
One by one, those strands fell away, the tiny hairs pulling back to allow her to see the actual shadow she had to remove. Just to be certain she was safe, because she didn’t trust Xaviero would not have a fail-safe, she took another careful look around the entire vicinity near the mage-shadow. There was no visual evidence of another trap, but she felt uneasy each time she got a little closer to the shadow and she kept her energy as low and as dim as possible, not wanting to accidentally spill across that shadow when she was certain there was another safeguard.
She studied the mark from every direction, first moving above it. She thought she caught a little glimmer, but it was gone before she could actually know for certain. She approached from the left side and saw nothing at all. From below, she caught the same flicker of movement, but it was gone as quickly as she noted it. From the right, a brief little shimmer told her for certain there was another weave.
