Broken Skies (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 4)

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Broken Skies (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 4) Page 9

by Veronica Douglas

Rage quaked through my body, and I sucked in a sharp breath. Spark’s fire magic erupted from my tattoos, and I smacked her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

  Ice devils skittered closer along the walls as she hissed in surprise and recoiled from the flames. “Interesting. Fire…and perhaps more spine than I thought.”

  Her arrogance wormed into me, leaving the taste of bile in my mouth. My rage coiled in my heart, vibrating and ready to explode. I’d heard just about enough.

  A quake shook the room.

  Did I do that?

  Mavia snorted. “You would challenge me in my own palace, little grandchild? That would be foolish beyond reason. You need to cool down and show some respect.”

  “You need to stop being so rude and earn it.”

  My parents gasped.

  The world pulsed around me, shaking with my anger—as if my fury could melt the palace to the ground.

  It welled up inside of me, and I could see it in my mind—the ice collapsing into walls of water, pouring off the islands into the infinite expanse below.

  Mavia’s eyes widened. “Stop! What are you doing? Control yourself!”

  The heck I would. Why should I bend a knee before this ice-hearted crone? Someone who considered her own offspring—my parents—worthless and unworthy?

  My shoulders quaked with anger and—

  The roar of waves crashed around me. A hand gently touched my back, and I sucked in a sharp breath of forest air.

  For a moment I was somewhere else. A wooded isle at the edge of the sea with gulls crying in the distance. I could taste the salt spray. A place that felt like home. My rage vanished like fire into smoke.

  Damian released his fingers from my back, and a pang of longing shot through me. But I could breathe again and think again.

  Relief rolled through me. The ice palace was still there.

  Damian stepped to my side. “We need your help. Your granddaughter needs your help.”

  “Clearly. She can’t control her temper or her magic,” the ice queen snapped, desperately trying to regain her composure. “Who are you, anyway?”

  I felt Damian’s magic flicker, a single pulse that revealed everything. While the strength of her magic was an oppressive cloud, and my own like a wild torrent, Damian’s was precise. A sonar ping that shook the hull of a ship. That revealed everything in a single note.

  Her eyes dilated, betraying a brief second of confusion.

  Damian spoke so low I could barely hear his response. It wasn’t a whisper, but quiet, like a knife hanging at the edge of your throat. “I am an abomination. Help her because I cannot.”

  The way he said it chilled my flesh. Fearless, threatening, desperate.

  She considered us. Her gaze swept over me, peeling me back layer by layer. My eyes dared her to see how far she could go. Finally, she relaxed. “Perhaps I can help. You are intriguing, little girl. And I am glad some of my line has borne fruit. What do you need?”

  I took a breath, trying to regain my composure. “I became a djinn three days ago. Since then, a demon mage has nearly bound me to his service, and I accidently transported myself to the Realm of Earth with a wish. I need to know how to control my magic and how to avoid getting caught.”

  Mavia raised her eyebrows and slowly took her throne. “You granted a wish a few days after assuming your true form? That is unusual. The recovery time between wishes is typically much longer, though it becomes faster with age. How did you make the transition in the first place?”

  I looked furtively at Damian. “I wished to heal someone.”

  A knowing smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She’d clearly caught our quick exchange. “You mean he wished for you to heal him. Very noble, angel.”

  Sarcasm dripped from her words.

  I shook my head, my frustration returning. “I made the wish. He would not.”

  “Impossible.”

  “I wished to heal him. It restored an ancient temple at the same time and made plants grow. I don’t know how or why.”

  Mavia leaned forward, and her eyes bored into me, searching for a lie, but found none.

  She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth and held it, deciding. “Nevaeh, stay. Everyone else, out. Servants, everyone. Out.” She looked pointedly at Damian. “Including you, abomination.”

  13

  Neve

  As soon as the room was empty, Mavia slammed the door with a gust of wind and leaned forward on her throne. “You have three questions, then our time is up. No complaining if you don’t like my answers.”

  My brain seized up with a moment of panic. Only three questions? There was so much I desperately needed to know. I had to choose wisely.

  I pulled myself up to my full height. “I’ve never had a chance to learn about my genie powers. How do wishes work and how do I control them?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Technically, that’s two questions, but I will let it go this time. Wishes allow you to rewrite reality. If you cannot control your magic, you’ll get yourself killed.”

  I thought of six days ago, when I’d nearly sent an entire bar to hell, and shuddered.

  Mavia held up a single finger. “Rule one, you don’t have to grant any wishes. Ever. Unless you are bound, that is. Then you are out of luck. Practice resisting. Have people you trust wish for insignificant things and refuse them. It comes with practice.”

  I crossed my arms. “Great. The first rule of granting wishes is don’t grant wishes. Check.”

  Her next finger sprung up. “Rule two. Focus your mind. When someone makes a wish, you’ll see a million possibilities. Don’t panic. Time will slow so you can choose the right one. Don’t rush, be careful. Wishes are entwined with fate and tend to twist themselves. There are always unintended consequences.”

  I winced. “Like when I had Damian wish that I could speak to my parents, and I got teleported to the Realm of Earth.”

  “That was because you violated the spirit of rule three—you can’t make wishes for yourself.”

  “Why?”

  She pulled out a comb and started brushing her dog’s fur. Every stroke made his eyes bug out. “Now that’s question two and a very important one. Remember this—genie magic manifests only in service to others. As a djinn, you have innate command over the sky and the wind—which is honestly more power than one being deserves. Wishes, on the other hand, call us to improve the world around us, not our own lives.”

  I mulled it over. “That seems a little unfair.”

  Her eyes burned, and her hand stopped mid brush. “Unfair? Tell me Nevaeh, what did you truly do to deserve your power? Study for decades like an archmage? No. You were born with it. The universe gave you an extraordinary amount of power you did not earn. It’s your job to earn it.”

  Her words were like a slap across the face, and I blushed as shame warmed my neck.

  Satisfied, she nodded and continued brushing the dog. “Think of it this way. The universe is putting a very large bet on you. It sees someone who can change the world, if only they had the right tools.”

  I swallowed. That was one heck of a bet.

  Mavia rose, placed the dog down on the ground, and gave me an expectant stare. “Now, it’s time for Louis’s walk. You’ve got one question left.”

  Panic lanced me. There was so much I didn’t know, and her answers were so obscure. I wanted to ask question after question. How could I choose just one? I had to keep her talking to squeeze out extra information.

  “Wait! I’m not sure I understand how the rules work!” I protested.

  “Then you have not been listening. Maybe this will clarify what you need to do.” The queen stepped forward and spoke with a voice that was quiet, yet overflowing with command. “I wish that you would turn into a statue of ice.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Then my magic surged.

  Power poured into me, driving the warmth from my body. It was like falling into a frozen lake. I gasped as pain erupted through my feet and fingers. F
rost began forming across my clothes and skin, and I stumbled back in shock. My legs were leaden, and I crashed to the ground.

  The queen looked on with an impassive expression.

  She’s trying to kill me with my own magic.

  Fear blinded me. I was granting a wish without meaning to. It was the same thing that had happened in the Rift, only stronger. Zara had wished that I go to hell, and I’d nearly transported the entire bar there.

  I’d only resisted granting that wish because Damian was there, calming me with his presence and power.

  Now, facing down the ice queen, I was on my own.

  I summoned my will to resist the wish, but I could barely think with the dread thrashing in my veins.

  Pressing my eyes closed, I focused on rejecting the wish, on pushing it out of existence.

  Shivers wracked my body, and my thoughts were sluggish. It was almost impossible to imagine that I could be anything but a corpse, frozen over with ice. My arms and legs were too numb to move, and ice crystals spread along my skin.

  I would die unless I had warmth.

  “Spark,” I whispered through chattering teeth.

  I am here.

  “I need your magic.”

  It’s yours.

  I reached out and pulled his fire magic into my body through our bond—as much as I could take. Waves of heat coursed through me. The frost and ice that had covered my skin began to melt away, and the tightness in my chest lessened.

  The coldness continued to seep into me, but Spark’s magic kept it at bay, and I was warm enough to think. To take control.

  Rage and desperation filled me, and I gritted my teeth against the pain of my spasming muscles.

  I will resist this wish.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I imagined myself as a statue of ice, melting away, revealing the woman inside. She was furious and strong and bowed before no one, not even a queen.

  I pushed back against the wish with all my strength, and finally, it broke.

  Relief shook my body, and flames burst from my tattoo.

  “How dare you!” I screamed.

  The ice queen bared her teeth. “You needed to learn how to control your magic. And you cheated, drawing fire magic from somewhere.”

  “And what if I had failed? Would you have stepped in?” Exhaustion overwhelmed me, but my emotions felt like a tinderbox ready to explode.

  “Why would I do that? If you cannot control your magic, you are a danger to everyone around you. You could kill everyone with an uncontrolled wish. It is not a power for the weak.”

  Horror streamed through me. Would she really have let me turn into ice? Every part of me wanted to rage but, simultaneously, felt weak.

  “You didn’t even warn me,” I muttered.

  “And do you think your enemies will give you warning? No.” She pointed her finger at me. “I wish that you would turn into stone.”

  My eyes bugged out in surprise and fury. “You witch!”

  My exhausted body suddenly felt heavy, and my skin began to dry. My feet turned white, the color of milky marble, and cracks snaked up my legs. My heart thundered, as I tried to gain control over what was happening.

  Queen Mavia moved closer. “Resist the wish. Your fire trick won’t help you now.”

  Focusing my mind inward, I saw a thousand possibilities, each one in which I turned to a statue. Marble. Alabaster. Limestone.

  Fear rampaged through my chest, and I frantically pushed the possibilities back, replacing them with an image of me standing whole and defiant in front of the queen.

  My fingertips had hardened into stone, but as I focused on that defiant vision, my touch returned and the stone faded, returning to flesh.

  The queen nodded, walking a circle around me as I resisted the wish. “You’ve probably been able to resist weak wishes… words muttered without intention. But it will be much harder to resist an intentioned wish, and harder still to resist one spoken by someone powerful. But at least it appears you can master this.”

  The pale, marble color slowly faded from my skin and clothes.

  Queen Mavia locked my eyes with her gaze. “I wish the flesh would melt from your body.”

  I reeled back in horror as a thousand images of me melting into a bubbling pile of flesh and bone sprang into my mind.

  Pain exploded through my skin, like acid burning it away.

  Fighting back the pain, I shoved the images from my head, replacing them with a picture of myself with flawless, airbrushed, magazine-model skin. To be sure. I checked my arms. Still just normal me—but that was good enough.

  I snapped my head up to meet her gaze. “You’re trying to kill me!”

  “No, child. I’m trying to prevent you from getting killed. Your enemy could try to use a wish to kill you or simply to disorient you in a crucial moment. Imagine what would happen if you were suddenly asked to choose between a thousand possibilities in the heat of battle. You must be prepared.”

  “I thought you said my friends should wish for insignificant things. Not my death in multiple, gruesome ways.”

  “I am not you’re friend. And there’s not time to build up to it. But fine, if this tactic is getting old, I wish the ceiling of the great hall would collapse and crush everyone within it to death.” She bellowed the words through the chamber, and my heart seized.

  Damian. Rhia. My parents.

  Images of the vaulted ceiling shaking, crumbling, and raining slabs of stone down materialized in my mind. I could see their bodies crushed, twisted, and broken.

  “No!” I growled, and with a burst of power I shoved the possibilities away, replacing them with an image of the four of them sitting around one of the great hearths.

  Had Mavia just risked crushing her own progeny and servants? She was either confident in my abilities or heartless.

  Her expression was like ice.

  Probably heartless. And a lunatic.

  Queen Mavia nodded impassively. “Well done. You must be prepared for anything and react fast. Delay could be fatal. I wish that—

  “No more! I wish that you would stop this game!” Power leapt from me, and Mavia stiffened. Her face paled and tensed for a moment, and then relaxed.

  She nodded. “Your voice carries impressive weight, young djinn. But I can grant that wish without magic. You did well…after the first two, at least.”

  My chest heaved. “That was a nasty trick.”

  “A nasty test. And an essential one. It should be clear now why we keep the nature of our power secret. You may never encounter someone clever enough to use your wishes against you, but my guess is that this demon mage trying to bind you will use every trick in the book.”

  It was true. I should have seen this was a possibility. Matthias had studied genies enough to learn how to bind them. He might figure out how to use my wishes against me.

  My sense of peril was deeper than ever.

  But also my confidence. I had felt Mavia’s enormous power when she’d commanded those wishes, and yet I’d managed to resist them. There was still a lot to master, but at least I could control whether I granted a wish, and that was one less thing I had to fear. One more decision I could make on my own.

  Mavia turned to leave, and I straightened my back. “I have one question left.”

  She stopped, a smile tugging ever so slightly at the corner of her mouth. “You do.”

  “How do I stop someone from binding me?”

  “Simple. Kill them first. Now, it is far past time for Louis’s walk, so I bid you good day, young genie.” She nodded and headed toward the door, Louis in tow.

  Rage shot through me. She’d just nearly killed me with her wishes, and she put more stake in walking her dog than teaching me about my magic or keeping me alive. This was the answer I needed more than anything.

  “That’s not enough! I deserve a real answer!” I snapped. Wind whipped around me as my temper rose.

  Mavia spun, glaring. “Do you think I am being flippant? You need to face the fa
cts. If someone is trying to bind you, kill them. Binding spells aren’t wishes. You can’t just resist them. Maybe once you are my age you might be powerful enough, but until then, you need to strike fast, without hesitation. If someone is binding you, their intent is to turn you into a servant for a thousand years. That is a fate worse than death.”

  Her eyes blazed bright blue, and a shiver ran through me. My shoulders dropped. “When Matthias—the demon mage—started casting his binding spell, I felt like he’d drained my power. I felt so helpless. Weak.”

  Mavia waved a hand in the air. “That is exactly how binding spells work. The incantation will drain your power and use it to bind you to an object. Whoever controls the object will be able to control you. Then they will be able to force you to grant wishes, and there will be no resisting.”

  “So, what do I do?”

  Her gaze softened. “I meant what I said before—kill them. When I was a young djinn, a mage tried to bind me. I ripped the air from his lungs and watched him suffocate to death before my eyes. I have never once regretted it, though sometimes I am haunted by the thought of what would have happened if I’d hesitated. I would be trapped in a bottle somewhere, mad out of my mind.”

  The horror of that fate raised the hairs on my neck, and I hung my head.

  Could I do that?

  Maybe. But I’d also made a blood oath to Zara not to kill Matthias.

  What if she was right? What if killing him was the only way? My freedom or his life. I shuddered. “Sorry. My temper got the best of me. I see now that you were just being direct.”

  “You need to master your anger. You were completely out of control the first time you challenged me. Luckily, your abomination stepped in or I would have.”

  Damian. His gentle touch had purged all that anger and emotion in an instant. It was like his touch had transported me to somewhere else, to a place I’d never visited but that my heart longed for more than anything else.

  Mavia sighed. “Your temper is part of being a djinn. The fates have gifted our kind with two tools. Righteous anger to rebel against injustice in the world, and through wishes, the power to create change.”

  I bit my lip. “I guess that makes sense, but it doesn’t make it any easier to control.”

 

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