The chimeras standing around him shifted nervously, but Bastian was still considering the clock like it was a damn lottery ticket.
“You’re holding a doomsday spell, you fool!” Lyre yelled. “You can’t use it! You can’t ever risk it touching a ley line!”
Bastian tilted his head thoughtfully. “If it’s so potentially devastating, why didn’t you destroy it?”
“It absorbs any magic that touches it. I don’t know how to destroy it.”
The prince balanced the clock on his palm. “There are no ley lines anywhere near here.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Lyre jerked his head toward the skyscrapers beyond the park. “The Ra embassy isn’t that far. How much magic is in there? Enough for the shadow weave to cover the whole city? All it would take is a few daemons in the wrong place for the shadow weave to make the jump to the nearest ley line.”
“That is extremely unlikely.” Bastian inserted the key in the clock again. “We take great risks every day, and this one is slimmer than most.”
Lyre lunged forward but the guards grabbed him. One of them bent his arms behind his back, trapping him in place.
“Um, Prince Bastian?” Eryx pulled the knife a few inches from Clio’s throat. “Not that I want to agree with the incubus mongrel, but maybe you should test that spell under more controlled circumstances.”
“Why do you say that?”
“That bastard hasn’t lost his cool over anything else.” Eryx squinted at Lyre. “But now he’s scared. If he’s freaking out over this, I don’t think we want to fool around.”
Lyre held his breath, waiting to see how Bastian would react to words of caution from his right-hand man.
The prince pursed his lips, then sighed. “I abandoned caution when I left Irida without leave. I can’t afford further delay. Now that we have begun, to pause would be to invite defeat.”
A sickening feeling sucked at Lyre’s innards, and he looked at Clio. Eryx’s hand still covered her mouth, his dagger hovering a scant two inches from her throat. Her eyebrows scrunched together, and her stormy eyes moved from Bastian to Lyre.
They stared at each other for a moment that lasted an eternity, unspoken words passing between them. Bastian would risk everything in unleashing the shadow weave—and Lyre would risk everything to stop him.
Even though his next move would likely mean Clio’s death.
He tore his stare away from her and let his focus sink inward. As Bastian turned his attention to the clock, Lyre ripped his arms out of the chimera’s grip. Then he dropped his glamour and slammed the full force of his aphrodesia into the daemons surrounding him.
Clio stared into Lyre’s black eyes. She knew. She knew he was about to act—and that her survival was in her own hands.
Eryx had shifted the blade away from her neck when he’d cautioned Bastian against using the clock. She couldn’t believe Bastian had disregarded Eryx’s warning. Eryx embodied reckless arrogance, so if he felt caution was needed, how could Bastian ignore that?
But the prince was ignoring it, and she focused on getting through the next thirty seconds alive. She twisted her palm toward Eryx’s torso behind her.
In a surge of movement, Lyre lunged free from his captors and dropped his glamour. His aphrodesia hit her like a punch to the chest but she stayed focused and unleashed her cast. The simple spell slammed into Eryx’s lower belly, flinging him backward. She ducked away from his dagger but it sliced across her cheek.
Eryx shot up as fast as he’d fallen. She whirled on him, hands raised. His dagger shone red with her blood as he flicked a glance away from her.
She dared to look away at the same time. Lyre was out of glamour, his fists bristling with throwing knives. Two chimeras stood unmoving, caught in his aphrodesia, and the other three were backing away as they also dropped glamour.
Lyre flicked a blade in the air, caught it, and whipped it into the face of an enthralled chimera. The daemon pitched over backward, the knife protruding from his eye socket.
“Take him down but don’t kill him,” Eryx barked at his men. His crimson eyes, darkening to black, swung back to her. “I’ll deal with the girl.”
She widened her stance and slid sideways, bringing Bastian into her peripheral vision. But he hadn’t moved. Holding the KLOC, he stood in front of his stupid chair and watched Lyre fight.
Just her and Eryx, then.
“I kind of wish things had turned out differently,” the chimera said, his lips pulling into a cruel grin. “I would have liked to strangle you to death. I imagined it so many times while we were in Asphodel.”
“Strangling sounds like your style,” she agreed, curling her spread fingers like claws. “It suits a coward.”
Shimmers washed over him as he dropped glamour. Goat-like horns sprouted from his head and a long tail snapped out behind him. Weapons were strapped to his body, and his grin widened to show pointed canines as he drew a second long dagger.
She should have been afraid. She should have been quaking with terror, but rage and anguish pumped through her veins. He had killed Kassia, and she had no room for fear. Only hate.
She dropped her glamour as Eryx sprang at her. Lunging backward, she flung out simultaneous blasts. He rammed right through them, a shield glowing across his chest, protecting his vitals while leaving his weapons unrestricted.
Spinning away, she began two more spells. He came in fast and she ducked. His dagger whipped across the space where her throat had been, and he skidded on the pavement, tail lashing for balance.
Fast. He was too fast. Nymphs were quick and agile, but that wouldn’t give her much of an advantage over him.
She flung a pointed green dart. It hit his shield and shattered it, and she threw her second spell right behind it. He lurched away and the bladed disk glanced off his shoulder, shredding his leather armor.
“That was a mean spell, Clio.” He flipped his dagger over and hurled it at her.
She cast a hasty shield and deflected the weapon. Eryx charged in, his second knife flashing toward her chest. She dove for the ground and tucked into a roll, barely clearing his weapon. The blade hit the pavement in a burst of sparks.
Still rolling, she snapped a gem off the decorative belt around her waist and started to weave. She shot to her feet, her other hand contorting as she began a complex cast.
Pulling another dagger so he again wielded two, Eryx lunged for her. She cast the powerful bubble shield she’d learned at Chrysalis.
With a snap of his tail, Eryx darted around her, dug his feet into the ground, and launched at her from behind. He slammed into her, the physical hit bowling her over even with the shield spell. She crashed down and rolled again, losing her shield.
Pain seared across her upper arm as his dagger grazed her flesh. Hand clenching, she flung the gemstone at his face.
The brand-new weave erupted into crackling electricity that rushed over his body. He fell to his knees, paralyzed by the binding, and she lurched back to her feet, breathing hard. He was immobilized. Raising her hand, she started to cast again.
Green light flashed.
A blazing orb struck Eryx in the back. Green light washed over him and her binding spell dissolved. He lunged to his feet, and a dozen paces behind him, Bastian turned back to watch Lyre’s struggle with the other chimeras.
Eryx charged her, his daggers whirling in his hands, and magic shimmered over them. He channeled fast, simple spells down the blades—too smart to try to out-magic a mimic.
He attacked hard and fast, giving her no time to cast anything but shields. As he circled on dexterous feet and she frantically defended, fatigue pierced her intense focus. After her desperate journey from Irida’s capital to Brinford, she was tiring too quickly. Her leg muscles cramped as she retreated from Eryx’s flurry of attacks.
As she spun around to keep Eryx in front of her, gold light flickered in her peripheral vision. Lyre’s aura.
Clenching her jaw, she slapped one hand to her che
st and cast a shield with the other. Heat washed over her as she focused on the color, the taste, the feel of Lyre’s aura—almost as familiar to her now as a nymph’s aura.
Power rose through her. Fixing her eyes on Eryx’s, she unleashed her new aphrodesia.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Standing on the fountain’s edge, Lyre kicked a chimera in the face as he slashed at another with a throwing knife. He hadn’t had a chance to activate his defensive weaves. Fending off all four was the best he could do.
He hopped backward, knives in one hand, and tossed a light-flare spell upward. The four chimeras flinched back, blinded. Unleashing another wave of aphrodesia into the nearest guard, he snarled, “Freeze.”
The daemon froze. Lyre sprang off the basin edge, shoved the chimera’s head up, and sank a knife into his jugular.
A crushing blow hit him in the back. He and the dying chimera crashed to the ground. He tried to roll but he was cornered against the fountain as the three furious chimeras lunged for him.
An invisible wave of sultry heat whooshed over him like an intangible wind. Burning desire seared his body and he needed to touch the source of that magnetic power.
Aphrodesia. But he was the only incubus here.
His distraction might have cost him his life if his opponents hadn’t been equally sidetracked. They turned away from him, fixating instead on—on Clio? Lyre jerked halfway up, his gaze snapping toward her. Scalding desire hit him again. The aphrodesia—it was coming from her. How?
Mimic. Apparently, her power wasn’t limited to copying spells and weaves.
She’d caught Eryx in her imitation aphrodesia, the daemon struck dumb and helpless, and the other chimeras were enthralled as well. Being female, her power was far more effective on male daemons than his was.
He was half caught too, but he’d been swayed by aphrodesia enough times that he could still think—and act.
Lurching to his feet, he grabbed the chain around his neck and activated a physical defense weave. Then he grabbed a chimera by the hair, pulled his head back, and cut his throat before they could react. No sense in wasting magic on a death spell when a blade worked just fine.
Shocked back to their senses, his two surviving opponents whipped around to face him, their black eyes glittering with rage.
If he hadn’t gotten a shield up, he wouldn’t have lasted long. With only two, they weren’t getting in each other’s way—and defending against them became more difficult.
Splitting up, they circled around him, striking from both sides at once. He flung out two trip spells, but he caught only one and the chimera recovered fast. Lyre retreated and they followed, staying close, giving him no space. He jumped back to evade a glowing blade and almost tripped on that damn chair. Its owner had moved away, steering clear of the fight, and Lyre didn’t have the luxury of worrying about Bastian.
Ducking a blow, Lyre sprang at the other chimera. A punch of aphrodesia startled the daemon, then Lyre grabbed the back of the chair and swung it. It smashed over the guard, who crumpled to the ground. Whirling on the other, Lyre struck with a fast binding spell. The chimera shielded, but Lyre’s spell snapped right over the barrier, pinning the daemon’s arms to his sides.
Lyre jumped back three steps, opening a space to pull his bow off his shoulder. An arrow was in his hand an instant later, and he activated the spell as he slapped it onto the bow for a point-blank shot that would go right through the chimera’s skull.
A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced away for an instant—and saw Clio fall in a shower of green sparks. Eryx lunged for her, his dagger arcing for her chest.
Lyre had three seconds to save her life, but the angle was wrong. He couldn’t shoot Eryx without hitting Clio.
Spitting a curse, he lifted his bow and loosed the arrow.
She’d miscalculated and now she would die.
Green sparks burst all around her. Bastian’s spell, cast from outside her line of vision, had struck her just when she’d found an opening in Eryx’s defense. A heady dose of aphrodesia hadn’t been enough to incapacitate the chimera warrior, but it had slowed him down. She’d been about to deal the final blow.
Then Bastian had struck her with a spell.
She fell backward, and Eryx was already closing in. Bastian’s cast sizzled over her, preventing her from retaliating. She had no weapons, no defense, no magic. She hit the pavement and Eryx’s dagger swung down. She flung her hands up in a futile block.
Out of nowhere, a glowing arrow flashed toward her—and struck her upraised hand.
A shriek erupted from her as the arrow lodged in the middle of her palm. Eryx’s blade stuttered, the chimera as surprised as her. Lyre had shot her. He’d shot her. He could hit the same spot on a moving target three times in a row, but he’d hit her?
The spell on the arrowhead blazed, and through her shock, understanding bloomed.
She clenched her hand around the arrow shaft, her vision going white from the pain. But she didn’t need to see. As Eryx descended on her, she thrust her hand up. The spelled point of the arrow hit him in the chest and sank right through his protective shield, right through his leather armor, right through his flesh.
He staggered backward, tearing the arrow out of his chest and wrenching her hand. She choked on a scream and yanked the bolt out of her palm. Her vision fizzled to white then to black, but she clung to consciousness. Dragging her head up, she found Eryx again. He clutched his chest, blood gushing over his fingers.
She staggered to her feet and flung a rough blast into his face. He crumpled to the ground and didn’t rise, grasping at the mortal wound as though he could hold on to life with his bare hands.
Stumbling with pain and exhaustion, she whipped around, taking in everything in one glance.
Golden light flared again as Lyre flung a spell at one chimera, knocking the daemon to the ground. In a blink, he’d flipped an arrow onto his bow, pulled it back, and fired. It struck the second chimera in the chest. A flutter of golden light, then the arrow exploded, opening a crater in the daemon’s torso as he fell.
Bastian stood in the center of the open space, holding a small object as green light danced over his fingers. Lyre snatched another arrow, pivoted on one foot, and brought the bow up—his black stare fixed on the prince.
Clio’s heart stopped. It just stopped. Bastian was her brother. He had betrayed her and tried to kill her, but he was still her brother. And Lyre was about to kill him.
Lyre’s arm drew back as though in slow motion and the arrowhead lit with a shield-piercing weave. His hand opened—and the last surviving guard tackled him in the legs.
The arrow whipped past Bastian’s head. Blood splattered and he jerked sideways as crimson spilled down the side of his face and stained his hair. He raised the object in his hand—a gemstone.
Clio’s gemstone.
The stone into which she’d woven one of Lyre’s powerful binding spells while fighting Eryx. Bastian had picked it up—and he’d repaired the weave.
Lyre slammed his bow into the chimera’s face and twisted free, but Bastian’s arm was already in motion. With one hand, he cast a glittering orb at Lyre, then tossed the glowing gem after it. The orb burst against Lyre, dissolving his defensive shield, and the gem clattered to the ground at his feet.
With a flash, the weaving activated. Electric power surged over him and the chimera, and they both collapsed to their knees, immobilized by the binding.
Clio stood frozen, as paralyzed as Lyre was.
Bastian hissed angrily. “Five of my best guards,” he complained as he slid his hand into his pocket. “Such a waste, incubus, and for no gain at all.”
He withdrew the KLOC and its key from his pocket. Smiling at Lyre helpless in the spell, he pushed the key into the back of the clock.
Her heart seized a second time. Bastian was going to test the KLOC by unleashing it on Lyre and his own guard. He wasn’t even going to test it in water. How could he be so c
areless? How could he be so selfish?
Her heart launched back into a frantic beat and she unclenched her bleeding hand. Magic sparked across her fingers.
Bastian glanced toward her as she flung the binding spell at him. He batted her cast out of the air like it was nothing more than a crumpled paper ball.
“Really, Clio?” he asked, his voice soft and dangerous in a way she’d never heard before. “You wish to fight me?”
“You can’t use the clock spell,” she said hoarsely.
“I can do whatever I please. You cannot stop me.”
Who was this daemon? He wasn’t the prince she’d thought she knew. “You’re putting the realms at risk.”
He shrugged and tucked the KLOC back into his pocket, the motion almost hiding the way green light sparked up his arm.
She cast the master-weaver shield and his spell exploded against it. Dissolving the barrier, she began two more casts. Across from her, Bastian began to cast as well. She hurled back-to-back attacks.
He cast the same shield she’d used. That fast, he had mimicked it.
Her spells exploded harmlessly against it. Jaw clenched, she began to cast again. Light flickered over her fingers as the same glow danced over Bastian’s hands. As much of her attention was on his spellwork as on her own as she tried to anticipate his casts before he finished them.
But he could anticipate hers too.
She threw spell after spell and he countered them all. Magic exploded in the space between them, the concussion blowing her hair back from her face. She cast again, using the rarest spells she knew to catch him off guard.
But he had organized most of her education. He knew almost everything she did—and more.
A wave of magic nullified her last cast, and then the spell in his other hand shot toward her. It hit the ground at her feet and burst. The blast hurled her backward and she landed hard, pain flaring through her joints. Gasping, she rolled over and staggered to her feet.
The Shadow Weave (Spell Weaver Book 2) Page 28