Dark Magicks

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Dark Magicks Page 7

by Candace Osmond


  Serena’s gaze flicked over him, taking in every detail, and stopped at the base of his throat where his shirt scooped low. A slow smile lifted the corners of her painted mouth.

  “I see my little gift is coming along nicely,” she purred the words, as if she were flirting with him.

  Cian’s fury exploded; he couldn’t stop it. It was like a disease, an alien inside him waiting to burst out, an inky pit of nothingness that wanted to suck him down. “You call this a gift!” he bellowed at her and grabbed the neck of his shirt, pulling it down to reveal the horrible veins spread across his bare skin.

  Her eyes burned now, and she took a step closer, staring him down with a glint that barely covered the insanity lurking just beneath the surface. “You just don’t understand yet,” she bit the words out then seemed to force herself to find calm. “You will, soon. Then we’ll rule the clans together, the way we were supposed to.” Her lips twisted. “Before she came along.”

  “She,” Cian spit with disgust, “is a hundred times the woman and witch you’ll ever be!” He shoved forward, slamming the car door behind him, and stalked toward Serena who just wanted him with narrowed eyes. She’d already done her worst, he figured, what more could she do to hurt him now? “And I will never rule with you. You’re insane.”

  “Am I?” Serena tittered, raising a clawed hand to his chest.

  Cian jerked away before she could touch him.

  “Because it seems to me,” she added, tapping a finger against her lip, “that I’m the only one seeing the big picture here. The people are hungry for power and tired of hiding in the shadows.” Serena threw her arms wide. “This is our world! We’re at the top of the fucking food chain, so why are we pretending to be inferior when we should rule the world?”

  Cian gawked at her, then slowly shook his head. “You’re not the first,” he said quietly, as if speaking to her hurt him on a cellular level. “There have been others like you and they’ve all spouted promises of power. They also died, Serena, without ever fulfilling their insane plans. When did you become this?” He gestured to her and felt a moment of grief for her parents again. “When did you lose your soul?”

  Serena’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment as if she were trying to remember a time when she’d had a soul, then she shook her head and tittered. “That doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but the strength we’ll have once united. We’ll change the face of magic everywhere.”

  He saw it then, not just a glint on insanity, but the true force of the darkness within her. She was beyond helping, beyond reaching. Serena was lost and in her place was a succubus, an evil thing that would suck the life and love from their people, leaving them hollow shells of who they once were. She would destroy everything he loved and rebuild in her own dark image.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Cian lunged for Serena, not knowing exactly what he would or could do against her dark magic but needing to do something, anything. Her eyes went wide for a split second, then her lips began to move, and Cian felt a wall of pressure slam into his chest, sending him crashing back against the hood of his car. He buckled and bit back a howl of pain as one of his ribs snapped.

  Serena stalked closer and hovered above him, looking down with a keen mixture of pity and superiority. “Don’t worry,” she purred, still sounding like she was flirting with him. “You’ll be mine soon enough. I can wait.” She arched an eyebrow. “Won’t be long now.”

  Then she was gone.

  Cian braced his chest with an arm wrapped tightly around his torso and stumbled to the car, gritting his teeth as he sank awkwardly into the seat. He needed help.

  The drive to Faith’s took forever and the walk from where he parked was excruciating, but Cian managed, using every healing spell he’d ever learned to start the process of knitting bone back together.

  Masilda was the first to see him enter the clearing. She took one look at him her big soulful eyes filled with more empathy than should be possible in one so young. Cian stopped to lean against a large rock, just for a moment before continuing on.

  Tiny hands reached for him, touching without hesitation over the broken bone. Cian winced, expecting pain from the touch, and shuddered when magic flowed from her fingertips into his body.

  He stared down at her, so young, so troubled, so powerful, and gasped as the purest magic he’d ever felt surged through him, wrapping his broken bone in warmth. He felt his shattered bone shift, grow, and reattach while he held his breath, waiting for unimaginable pain. It never came. Masilda’s power wrapped him like a cocoon, bringing a tear to his eye. Cian stared down at her in awe. He’d never felt anything quite so pure and powerful before.

  Ashlynn came out of Faith’s home just as Masilda was finishing and raced across the yard, stopping dead in her tracks. “What happened?” she asked, reaching a hand out to touch his abdomen carefully.

  Masilda lifted her hands and looked up with a slight frown. “I healed the rib, but I couldn’t heal the darkness. It…” she shifted and chewed her lip, “it’s beyond the light.” She glanced up at Cian and offered him the barest glimpse of a smile, then turned on her heels and walked away.

  “She is the strangest child I’ve ever met,” Cian murmured, lifting his shirt to see the red bruising that had blossomed on the way almost completely gone. Ashlynn stopped him as he moved to let his shirt drop. She lifted it further and inspected the dark veins.

  “They’ve worsened,” she said in a pained voice, indicating the lines they’d made on his chest with permanent marker. Sure enough, the spider web of veins had moved slightly past the line that had been their boundary just yesterday.

  He rubbed at them and dropped his shirt. “It was probably Serena. She showed up on my way here and threw me around like a rag doll.”

  Ashlynn’s frown was instantaneous. “Are you alright? Did she say anything? Do you know where she went?”

  Cian shook his head. “No, she was just there, then she disappeared. Her magic is insanely strong and nothing from her childhood can penetrate it. It’s like she’s completely gone. I think…” he sighed, “I think her soul is dead.” His eyes lit up as he remembered what he’d realized. “But I think there’s a way to track her using the curse.”

  Ashlynn’s eyebrows shot up. “What are you thinking?”

  He touched his chest. “This curse is pure darkness, even Masilda felt that. I feel it. It’s eating away at my soul and pulling me down into whatever abyss there is below life. It’s not natural and neither is she, anymore. I felt it when I jumped her. It was like a wall of darkness, but she was part of it. If we can just figure out a way to track her using these,” he pulled the neck of his shirt down, “then we can catch her off guard.”

  “You jumped her?” Ashlynn’s voice was cold, and her features froze in place as she picked on that one detail.

  Cian eyed her warily, not understanding the sudden shift in reaction. “Yeah,” he said dismissively, wanting to make her see that his plan had merit. “But we can track her now, we just have to find the right spell. I’m sure Faith has something that will work.”

  Ashlynn’s teeth clicked together as her jaw clenched. “Cian,” she said slowly as if talking to a child, “your power is being sucked from your body, your connection to the magicks of this world is being cut off, and you decided it would be a good idea to jump her?” Her voice raised as if she were asking a question, but Cian understood, finally, that it was an accusation.

  His ire rose immediately. He’d done something right. Why was she trying to turn this around on him? He had enough to worry about. He couldn’t breathe without worrying about something. Her, their people, his parents, Serena’s parents, the world! It was too much and she was supposed to be his person, his support. Cian’s blood ran hot.

  “I didn’t ask for it, Ashlynn,” he spat the words out as his heart began to race. His body filled with anger, futile and hot, not for her but for everything the world had thrown at him lately. Cian looked at the woma
n he loved and let it all burst free. “I didn’t ask for any of this!” He pounded his chest, needing to feel as if he were being heard. The look of frustration in her eyes told him he wasn’t.

  Cian reached for his magic, pulling it forcefully from the earth, dragging it into his body in a way he’d never done before. It resisted him, shying away from the dark curse that infected his soul, but that just made him pull harder.

  It flooded him, but it wasn’t normal. Mania pushed at his mind through the magic, sweeping him up in its power, and he let himself just be within the storm. He barely noticed Ashlynn stumble back, face ghost white, eyes wide as he raised his hands into the air and summoned every drop of power he could.

  Gone was the fear and worry, everything that pressed so heavily on his soul, or what was left of it at least. Cian closed his eyes and let his head loll back. This was freedom, this was peace…

  This was exactly what Serena wanted.

  Cian’s eyes flew open and he dropped his arms, letting the magic go in one fell swoop. It disappeared into the earth, sucking the last drops of power from him and he sagged. Ashlynn was by his side in an instant, holding him up, running her hand over his chest, his heart, his face.

  He’d almost given in. For a split second, he’d wanted the darkness and the peace that it offered. He’d been so close. Cian swallowed back the lump in his throat and pushed away from the woman he loved.

  “No,” he whispered hoarsely, stumbling back. She was too good for him, too pure and good. He didn’t deserve her, not like this, not now. Cian’s breath caught in his chest. “I can’t.” He turned, terrified he was right and praying he was wrong, and ran out of the clearing.

  Chapter Nine

  Ashlynn lay awake and stared at the stone ceiling above her. It was a strange sensation, being there. Like she was intruding in some way. She shifted and moved off the bed as the beautiful tendrils of the dream tugged all around her.

  She wandered the empty halls, wary of every open doorway. Every turned corner. The sounds of children playing and people speaking bounced off the walls like vibrant whispers. But she was alone, something Ashlynn soon realized. The sounds only an audible memory. The castle never felt more foreign to her and she longed for the comforts of the home she shared with Cian. Ashlynn had come to realize she was never meant to live in the past. There was never a place for her there. She served as nothing more than a disappointment for her mother and a tool of war to her father.

  As she passed the massive wooden doors that led to her parent’s quarters, Ashlynn stopped to peer in the crack where they hung slightly open. Candlelight danced off the dark stone interior as her father, much younger than she remembered, draped himself over his wife with worried, busy hands. Tending to her as she lay there, pale and sweaty.

  Now Ashlynn recalled the moment. She was only a girl. Barley six years old. But she remembered her mother falling ill from some unknown disease and her father had performed a ritual each night that gifted some of his magic to her mother, keeping the disease from spreading.

  Ashlynn stood in the doorway, in awe. As she often was when in the presence of magic. She knew it was all a dream, but when her father’s head snapped to attention his drained eyes met hers as if he were living the moment in front of her. A gasp escaped her throat and Ashlynn fell backwards, landing on the surface of a soft quilted bed; all evidence of the hyper realistic dream yanked away.

  The bright morning sun blared through Faith’s purple lace drapes and Ashlynn blinked away the sleep from her eyes. She had cried out her frustrations at Cian all night, until her weary body had drifted into a coma-like rest. Now she felt stiff and sore from the emotional hangover. She rolled over and felt the presence of another body.

  Masilda had crawled in at some point during the night.

  Ashlynn’s first reaction was to wake her, but one look at the smattering of freckles across the soft cheeks and nose, her heart warmed. Masilda must have trusted her, which spoke volumes against what happened to the little girl. The recent violence. The loss. Ashlynn barely knew her, but there was no doubt in her mind that she’d do anything to protect Masilda.

  “Why are you watching me?” Masilda asked, her eyes still closed.

  Ashlynn laughed. “Just admiring your freckles.”

  The girl’s blank eyes opened at stared up at Ashlynn. Her body unmoving. “My mom used to do the same thing.”

  Ashlynn let her head fall to the side as she gently moved a billow of red hair from Masilda’s face. The blank stare, the sadness smudged all over her face…no child should ever have to make that look. It broke Ashlynn’s heart to see it, so she forced a smile and slapped her two knees as she flung her feet off the side of the bed.

  “I’m hungry,” Ashlynn exclaimed. “You?”

  The corner of Masilda’s mouth twitched and she gave a nod.

  While the coffee brewed, Masilda sat at the dining room table with a bowl of cereal and stared out the window thoughtfully as Ashlynn perused Faith’s collection of ingredients. They lined an entire wall of the kitchen, shallow shelves chocked full of varying jars and bottles. From frog’s legs to eye of newt, all the way to bones shavings and children’s teeth. Faith had everything at her disposal.

  “Good morning, Princess,” Faith mused as she emerged from her room. A yellow lace kimono trailing behind her. “Sleep well?”

  Ashlynn spun around and managed a half smile as she sighed. “Not really. My dreams haunt me sometimes.”

  Faith grabbed the still percolating pot and poured a cup of coffee. “Would you like a sleep aid? I can whip one up for you.”

  “No, I had something else in mind, actually,” Ashlynn replied. Faith raised her eyebrows over the rim of her mug. “I dreamed – remembered – something my father once did when I was a little girl. The specifics are muddled to me, but I recall my mother falling ill. My father used some potion and ritual to syphon part of his powers to her. To keep the ailment at bay while she healed. It saved her life.”

  Faith’s faced became awash with realization. “Cian.”

  Ashlynn smiled and nodded. “Yes. If I can somehow give Cian a part of my magic, perhaps he can withstand the curse long enough for us to find Serena and the grimoire.”

  “Ashlynn, you clever little thing,” Faith replied with a dazzling grin. “I don’t know how I didn’t think of it before. I’d been searching for ways to suspend the curse. But,” she thumbed through some of the smaller bottles on the higher shelf, plucking a handful, “focusing on Cian, rather than the curse, might just be the solution we need.”

  Ashlynn watched as the seer mixed together various ingredients; witch hazel, moondust, and an array of others. Faith grabbed Ashlynn’s hand and pricked the tip of her finger before she could protest. Faith squeezed three drops of blood into the bowl and mixed everything before pouring the potion over a warm quartz stone into a vile.

  “Here,” Faith finally said, handing Ashlynn the large vile. “You and Cian must both drink from this each time you need to share your magic. It should strengthen his body enough to push back the spread of the curse for a while.”

  Ashlynn pocketed the gift. “Thank you so much.”

  “Thank yourself for thinking of it,” she replied. “Now, will you join me for a cup of coffee before I bring you home?”

  Ashlynn heaved a heavy sigh. Home. Cian. She cringed at the thought of how he’d left the night before and wondered if he might still be upset. They had to find a way to work this out. Surely, the glimmer of hope she held in her pocket would be enough to placate him. To ease his mind.

  A short while later, Ashlynn slid into the backseat of Faith’s Jeep, sure that Masilda would want to ride in the front. But as she shut the door, the other one opened, and the girl jumped in the back with her. No words were spoken, but Ashlynn could almost feel Masilda’s need to be near her, and Ashlynn didn’t protest. She had similar feelings, after all. The strange pull she felt toward the girl. How she wanted to protect her.

  “S
ecure your seatbelt,” Ashlynn told her sternly, but failed to hold the void expression when Masilda’s face lit up with a smile as she clicked her belt in place. She so rarely seemed happy, except when they were together.

  The ride home was quiet and filled with anxious tension. Everyone feared what came next. All the possibilities. None pleasant. Except for Cian living, that she couldn’t live without. If all else fails – finding Serena, appeasing the elders, the wedding – one thing was for certain in Ashlynn’s heart.

  Cian must live.

  After Ashlynn exited the Jeep and waved goodbye, she watched them speed away in the rickety jalopy before heading inside the apartment. She opened the door, immediately met with the warmth of the afternoon sun and silence.

  She changed and showered, inherently aware of Cian’s absence. Where would he be? She padded barefoot about the loft, in and out of each room, draping herself over every surface in an attempt to calm down the racing of her mind. The way it obsessed over all the possibilities of every possibility.

  When had she become so anxious?

  Ashlynn brewed a fresh pot of coffee and popped some bread into the toaster, still engulfed in the silence of their home. When the door jiggled and the jarring sound of keys filled the air, she gasped and whirled around. Cian entered, fumbling with the removal of the keys.

  “Are you drunk?” Ashlynn asked him, suddenly angry.

  Cian stood straight and smoothed back his hair as he shut the door. He tossed the keys on the table as he walked right for Ashlynn, never breaking his gaze from hers, and then veered around her for the couch. That stung. She moved swiftly in the same direction.

  “So, you’re not speaking to me. Is that it?” she asked. “You blast me with your magicks, storm away, then drink all night, leaving me to be nothing but a ball of nerves.”

 

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