But Marcel’s powers were a different story. A lot of what Silas had theorized made sense. I could use the magic differently than anyone else in Aeterna—like seeing the patterns within the spells. I had absorbed power from other people, just like those defected Harvesters. And the amount of magic locked inside me—evidenced by my white flare—was testament that Marcel might have been one of them.
I needed to learn how to control those abilities and use them to escape before the Council decided I was exactly what they needed to cure their energy crisis. Dead or alive, they were never going to let me go. “The Council must be desperate to stop the energy crisis,” I mused aloud.
Atticus clucked his tongue. “They’re equally desperate to find the Lost Sect and force them to return. They have an entire legion of Guardians secretly searching for them before we run out of magic in the Citizen Source.”
“The Citizen Source... that’s what the Barrens use, right?”
“Yes, and the Lower Houses who don’t have enough familial power to draw upon. It’s a shared power source from the Council, and most of Aeterna depends upon it for their daily use. Without the Citizen Source, our civilization could not function.”
I sighed with frustration. “I have the opposite problem. All this magic inside of me, but I can’t figure out how to even access it.”
He shrugged. “I could show you how I access magic.”
Now that was a loophole I hadn’t considered. Atticus was a slave, but even a slave had to use magic to serve. And he was a former Guardian too. Ideas started forming in my head.
“That would be great. If you show me how you do it, I can practice.”
A red aura surrounded him, and I flinched, immediately on edge. He was a Shifter, like the Rakken.
“Is all well?” he asked, his eyes rounded with concern.
I took a deep breath and tried to remember that I’d decided I trusted him a minute ago. And his magic wasn’t tinged in the black of stolen energy. “What do you shift into?” I asked slowly.
“I belong to the wolf clan.” His head tilted to the side in a way that suddenly seemed dog-like to me.
I swallowed and tried not to show my fear. But I trusted my gut. Corin was a Shifter, and Silas trusted him. Just like everyone else, Shifters made the decision to be good or bad people.
Atticus held his palm open, and a small sphere of power floated above it. “First, I’ll show you how to pull the energy into the physical manifestation you desire.”
I could see the threads of power feeding the orb he held. The energy crackled like tiny sparks of lightning, luring me in. I concentrated on it, and the little ball of energy flew to my palm.
Atticus jumped out of his seat, knocking the platter of food onto the ground with a crash. “You are from the Lost Sect!”
“Shhh! Don’t freak out!”
The red magic sizzled on my hand. I closed my fist around it and let it sink into my skin. A warm tingle spread through my body, like a hot cup of coffee on a cold day. I suppressed a shiver. “Honestly, I don’t know what I am. These powers aren’t mine.”
“Only rumors of the Lost Sect speak of such abilities.”
I took a deep breath and risked asking for help. “Atticus, I don’t know what you did to become a Traiten, but I think there’s more to you than just your crimes. I’m a prisoner here too, and I need help to figure out how to use this magic trapped inside me. Maybe we can help each other.”
He lowered himself back into the chair across from me. “How?”
Atticus had been a Guardian. Surely, he had learned some of the things Silas could do with his magic. “Maybe I’m a descendent of this Lost Sect, or maybe not. The Brotherhood and the Council both want the magic trapped inside of me, which means I’m dead either way. I need to know how to use it to defend myself.”
“You want to learn offensive magic conjuring?” His lips pursed, but to my great relief, he didn’t look scared. He seemed... eager.
“Can you teach me?”
He considered me for a long moment. I held my breath in anticipation. With Silas’s oath to me officially fulfilled, Atticus was my only hope of learning how to use my magic to escape and ultimately defend myself from both the Council and the Brotherhood. I didn’t have a Plan C.
A mischievous glint lit his gaze. “If they catch us...”
I nodded. Some things were better left unsaid. If we were caught, the Council would kill us both.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Atticus returned for my first secret lesson. After a full night’s sleep, I’d managed to use the waterless disappointment they’d substituted for a shower, and I was finally clean from all the blood and filth. The combined sonic and magic pulses may have gotten me efficiently clean, but I missed the soothing steaminess of real water. Someone had left me undergarments, a soft brown tunic that fell to my knees, and a braided belt. I hadn’t bothered to slip on the soft leather booties as I padded around barefoot on the thick rugs.
After my flurry of visitors the day before, it would be best to get an early start with Atticus. I purposefully didn’t think about whether one of today’s visitors would be Silas. Eventually, I would have to talk to him, but I had too many feelings I hadn’t yet sorted through where he was concerned. To avoid all those visitors finding out what Atticus and I were doing, I suggested holding our crack-of-dawn lesson in the bedroom. Having a few rooms between us and the front door meant we would have time to hide any signs of our secret lesson before someone busted in. That was especially important if that someone was on the Council.
We sat facing each other cross-legged on the floor with a new tray of unusual food between us. The menu included a bowl of mushy stuff and more brown cheese.
Yawning, I pointed at the squares. “What’s this?”
“A protein-based ferment,” Atticus said and popped one into his mouth.
My stomach growled with hunger, but just thinking about eating it made me want to throw up. “So, what are we learning first?”
His mouth twisted in worry. “Guardians train for three anni before learning a single offensive spell.”
I forced down a bite of unsweetened, chewy slop and planted my elbows on my knees. “I’m a quick learner.” I had to be. Alaric wouldn’t wait long before his offer became a demand.
Atticus’s mischievous smile revealed his dimples.
“What do I need to know?”
“You must first harness the energy. Clear your mind and focus on the magic.”
It was almost word for word what Silas had told me in the motel. The reminder of Silas brought back my intense confusion. He’d admitted that he’d used me to learn more about this Lost Sect, and we’d nearly had sex, even though he was married to this Aria person. But then he’d bargained so fiercely with the Council to save my life. But really, he shouldn’t have promised to protect me in the first place if he couldn’t keep his oath.
I blew out my breath and tried to clear my mind. I needed to put all those thoughts aside and focus. The most important thing was figuring out a way to save my own ass. I could sense the power all around me. It radiated from Atticus, the lighting spells embedded in the ceilings, and even the people farther away in the building. I could feel all of it; I just couldn’t use it.
“You must first learn how to build the spell you want to conjure. We’ll go over the base elements and conjure them layer upon layer until you’ve built to the entire spell. Once you have mastered that, you should be able to conjure it at will. We’ll begin with the basic flare I showed you yester eve.”
My leg started to fall asleep as I waited cross-legged for him to show me. I adjusted to a kneeling position and placed my palms flat on my knees. I was focused.
“You’ll have to give me a command to access my magic and the sigil necessary to see the conjurings.” His face stayed completely neutral. It must have bothered him that he couldn’t even access his magic without permission, leaving him completely dependent on someone else’s
whims, not to mention the slavery part.
“Right. Do what you need with your magic thingy.”
He gave me an amused grin before the Traiten marks on his wrists flared along with a second mark that matched the one Silas had used to check me for magic. A moment later, Atticus’s aura flared red, and a small, glowing ball appeared in his palm.
“There are three layers to a basic conjuring. The energy orb has all three.”
I could see multiple levels of patterns within the ball. But all layered together, it was difficult to see the individual patterns. The orb dimmed down to a single pattern of energy in his palm—a simple cross-hatched design.
“This is the base,” he said.
“Got it. Show me the mid-layer.”
“How did you know what it’s called?”
I hadn’t thought about it before I spoke. It had just come out. Marcel’s memories must have been taking over. But I’d managed to keep my temper in check, and the memories were currently under control. My voice was a whisper when I spoke. “I don’t know.”
A pattern of interlocking circles appeared over the first layer, like a delicate chain surrounding the orb. It glowed brighter with the increased energy. “This is the mid-layer,” Atticus explained. “And the third is the binding layer.”
The pattern changed. It took me a second to understand that it was a three-dimensional weave of threads going through the other two layers. The third layer held the first two together. When it clicked in my brain, it felt as though I had known it forever. And I could add additional layers to grow the size and power of the spell.
“Got it,” I said.
Atticus flinched in surprise. “Very well. Show me.”
I reached for my magic, but it slipped away from me. I ground my teeth. I could do this if I could just grasp the power. Frustrated and hangry from the lack of decent food since our pit stop for burgers on the road several days ago, I reached into my pocket and pulled out Marcel’s charm. I rubbed it between my fingers, searching for calm. Thankfully, Atticus didn’t ask what it was. The metal warmed quickly between my fingers as I rubbed my thumb in tight circles over its etched surface.
“Take the orb from my hand,” Atticus suggested.
The ball floated four feet away. I could feel the gently radiating power of it, warm and rich. I reached for it with my mind, determined to figure this out. The ball flew to me, and I held it between my hands. The power rolled between my fingers, tangible against my flesh before it sank into my palms and disappeared. I inhaled the rush of energy. Greater than a flash of adrenaline, the power of it energized my body. I wanted more.
Atticus’s eyes were huge, but he stayed planted in his seat this time. Another orb flared in his palm. “I have an idea,” he said. “Do it again, but don’t absorb it. Hold it in your hand.”
I pulled the power and resisted the urge to absorb it. Everything about it called to me. But I needed to learn control, or I was dead. I focused on Marcel and on the way he’d suffered. He didn’t die in vain. I thought about Alaric trying to trick me into the Transference. The Council will not steal my life. I remembered Silas growling at me to control myself. I would show them all. I gritted my teeth and held the energy ball in my palm without absorbing it.
“Good. Can you do anything with it?” Atticus asked.
I pictured peeling back the layers of the orb. The ball split at the top and flowered open, each layer like a row of petals spreading across my palm.
“Five blighted hells,” Atticus swore. “You can manipulate someone else’s conjuring too?”
I was almost as surprised as he was. I focused on the orb in my hand and pictured a fourth layer sealing the others back up. A weave of tight, interlocking threads grew over the ball, expanding the size. I added another mid-layer and a third to bind it.
A six-layered orb glowed above my open hand, the size of a beach ball. The magic changed from red to white. If I did a seventh layer, it would need to be a secondary binding spell. How do I know that?
Maybe that was why I couldn’t access any of the power inside of me. I had been going about it all wrong. Every time I’d been able to do something, I’d done it with someone else’s power.
“What else can you show me?” I asked.
“I think you could do a shield at this rate. It might be just as—”
The door chimed, and I jumped, causing the power I held to sink into my palm. The influx of magic overwhelmed my senses. Like a sneeze, I couldn’t control the shiver that trembled through my body. The dizzying combination of jumping too quickly to my feet and the rush of so much magic went straight to my head. My vision wavered, and I swayed on my feet. Tunnel vision set in, and I reached blindly toward the bed before I collapsed.
“Maeve?” Atticus caught me and lowered me to the bed, concerned touches fluttering across my forehead and pulse points.
“Well, that was a surprise,” I noted.
The unexpected vertigo passed after a few deep breaths, and I pushed to sitting, still cradled in Atticus’s arms.
Silas stood in the doorway, a white cloak draped from one shoulder. His gaze went from our awkward position to the rumpled bedding. His mouth clenched.
I pushed to my feet, tugging down the tunic, which had ridden up my thighs during my near-fainting spell. Silas’s sudden arrival left me flustered. I was so angry with him but also strangely relieved to see him again. Honestly, I didn’t know if I wanted to kiss him or hit him. Half of me was eager to see him, and the other half was annoyed at the way his presence made my heart beat faster. That made me one hundred percent confused.
Atticus jumped to his feet, and the blood drained from his face. His fist went over his heart as he bowed and stayed there. “Lord Commander.”
“Don’t salute me,” Silas said with a snarl.
My mouth dropped open at his rudeness.
He stalked into the room, glaring at Atticus, his mouth twisted down. “Who assigned you here?”
Atticus straightened. “The Lord Magister, my lord.”
“You’re no longer assigned to Lady Maeve,” he growled. “Leave.”
The Traiten marks flared, and Atticus moved toward the door.
“Wait!” I exclaimed.
Atticus stopped and pivoted. His eyes bounced between Silas and me like a trapped animal.
Blood pounded through my veins, hot and fast. I couldn’t lose the one person who could teach me how to use my magic. I pounced on Silas. “What is your problem? You’re being a first-class asshole.”
Surprise flashed across Silas’s face before it settled back into anger. “He should have been sentenced to death for his betrayal. Do you even know what he did?”
“I don’t care what he did! This Traiten sentence”—I waved in Atticus’s direction—“is a disgusting abuse of power.”
“Your Earthen governments imprison people for life! How is that different?”
“This is slavery!”
Silas scowled, his pulse pounding in his jaw. “Tell her what you did, Traiten,” Silas said, his eyes still locked on me.
The bands on Atticus’s wrists flared. “I am a traitor, who caused the deaths of innocents.”
“Silas! That is so out of line.” I didn’t want Atticus to be forced to tell me his crimes. It was wrong to take away his free will.
“Tell her about Krittesh.”
I flinched at the familiar name. Silas had told me about Krittesh—his first mission. There had been a lot of deaths, and they had been betrayed by a friend. Silas stared down Atticus, his jaw tight and his fists clenched at his sides. I had never seen him so furious.
Atticus lifted his head and locked his eyes on me. The unknown mark on his neck flared as he spoke. “The realm of Krittesh had endured many raids, losing entire villages in a single night. We swore to protect the remaining citizens, but I... accepted a bribe to leave the main gate unprotected.” His voice wavered. “They invaded under cover of night, took everything of value, and killed everyone.”
>
Silas’s voice became a growl. “Tell her about the children, Traiten.”
Atticus’s eyes closed, but his mouth kept moving under Silas’s command. “We found the bodies of the children.” He swallowed and lowered his eyes back to his feet. “They were crucified and burned alive.”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. A sick feeling spread through my chest.
Silas’s face was rock hard. “The punishment is more than just.”
“I accept responsibility,” Atticus said.
My brain twisted in a confused jumble. This kind of total slavery was so wrong. But what he’d done... I stared at the two of them with open-mouthed shock. Silas had told me he’d had nightmares after Krittesh. I couldn’t even wrap my brain around that kind of atrocity. I didn’t want to.
That strange second sigil was still active on Atticus’s neck. The complex pattern finally clicked in my brain; I had seen it before. I pointed at it and asked Silas, “Do you see that sigil?”
Silas scowled and narrowed his eyes.
“Look!” I insisted. “It’s right there.”
His aura flared brightly around him, and the mark that must let him see the patterns within spells glowed on his neck. “What sigil?”
“It shows up when he’s talking about what he did. It’s flat, and I didn’t recognize it at first, but it’s the same pattern you used in Earth. I think it’s a compulsion spell.”
Silas’s head cocked to the side. “It’s not possible to compel an Aeternal.”
“Tell us again what you did,” I commanded Atticus.
The Traiten bands lit and so did the mark on his neck. “I accepted a bribe to abandon my post.” The whites of Atticus’s eyes were completely visible.
“There! Did you see that?” I pointed. “It’s just like the spell you used on the officer. Right?”
“Shite!” Silas swore. “It is a compulsion spell. How is that possible?”
“Does that mean someone is forcing him to lie about what happened?”
Atticus watched us both silently, nearly vibrating with tense energy.
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