A Deadly Duet: Spellsinger: Book 6

by Amy Sumida

  “I as well,” Declan agreed. “But nothing to give me a clue as to what it's warded with.”

  “Oh, for fuck's sake,” Banning huffed as he reached for the handle.

  Banning's hand closed around empty air as his knuckles hit the door; making the whole thing bulge backward. We scowled at the door as Banning prodded it. It was one of those trompe l'oeil pictures that looked real but was only a painting. It had been done so well that we didn't catch the trick, even when we stood within inches of it. Granted, it was dark and the only light was from Declan's lantern, but still, it was a damn fine painting.

  “What in the world?” Banning asked.

  “It's not in the world at all, actually,” Declan whispered in awe. “It's a veil.”

  “A what?” Banning asked.

  “Like the Veil between the worlds?” I asked.

  “Just so,” Torin murmured as he bent to peer closer at the door. “This canvas is an anchor.”

  “I've never seen one in person,” Sir Hugh, one of our guards, said. “It's incredible.”

  “It pulls a piece of the Veil—the one between the worlds—down to this location as a barrier,” Declan explained. “In order to get past it, we have to sever the tie or pass through the Veil.”

  “Can't we just use our travel stones to pass through?” Banning asked.

  “If we had already been to the treasure room, yes,” Declan said. “In fact, I suspect that the original architects made this as a shortcut.”

  “They didn't want to jump through hoops every time they took a peek at their treasure,” Banning concluded. “Or had to add another piece to it.”

  “Exactly,” Declan said. “But we've never seen the room, and if we try to go through the Veil without a location in mind, it will consume us.”

  “We'll be lost in it forever,” Torin said; in case any of us were unclear about that.

  But while they'd gone over the grim prospects, I'd been contemplating what Declan had said about severing the tie to this anchor, and I'd come up with my own solution. As the men continued to discuss possible ways to get past the mini veil, I asked Kyanite to play “Torn” by Natalie Imbruglia.

  When the uplifting strum of guitars and the light tapping of drums filled the ravine, the men went quiet and looked at me in surprise. I grinned at them as I launched into the lyrics. Sure; they were about a heartbroken woman who was lamenting the loss of love, but Natalie's words were just what I needed to cut an anchor from the Veil—or tear it away, rather.

  My voice echoed off the rock walls and the music shivered in the stones. Magic surrounded us; condensing in the space before the door, and I directed it into the canvas. As I cried out about my lack of faith and shaken emotions, I imagined the door before me tearing open.

  And that's precisely what it did.

  My consorts gave me proud looks as the door ripped down the center and its tie to the Veil was torn away. The only pulse of magic left was the fading power of my voice. I let the song go, and Kyanite softened the music into silence shortly after. Declan lifted the lantern as the rest of us stepped forward and peered past the hanging strips of fabric.

  The was a flight of stairs going up.

  We glanced at each other and shrugged; it looked and felt safe enough. Declan went first; leading the way with the lantern. At the top of the stairs, there was a tunnel. We headed down it for awhile without seeing any turns or passages. At least, most of us didn't.

  We had been walking along—keeping an eye out for any of the guardians we had been warned about—when we heard Banning's shout. We all spun around to see that he was missing. Declan raced back down the tunnel—holding the lantern aloft—and discovered a corridor that the rest of us had somehow missed. Banning's voice echoed out of it.

  “Help!” He shouted.

  “Banning!” I cried as I ran down the corridor with the others.

  The lantern light wobbled on the walls as we ran, but we didn't have far to go before we found Ban. We pulled up short at the edge of a pit that took up the entire end of the corridor. The pit was filled with a thick liquid, and Banning was flailing in it; his arms making solid slaps on the surface. He was also growling.

  “Is that blood?” Torin asked in a horrified tone.

  “Yes,” Banning's voice had gone guttural. “And I'm about to go feral from being around so much of it.”

  “Whatever you do, don't drink it; I smell poison,” Gage said urgently. “Hurry, everyone; let's get him outta there.”

  Gage went to the edge of the pit and reached out a hand toward Banning. The rest of the men went to help; holding onto Gage's waist and forming a chain. Within seconds, they had pulled Banning along the line of them and onto dry land. But Ban jerked away from us; shaking like a madman.

  “Stay back!” Banning cried out. “I can't resist... oh, fuck! I have to get this blood off me!”

  As soon as Banning said that, the cave started to vibrate with the pound of drums and the wail of an electric guitar. It was the first time Kyanite had prompted me with a song of his choosing, and I was beyond grateful for it. I couldn't have come up with something more perfect than Black Lab's “Wash it Away.”

  The music was a low roll of torment that echoed Banning's pain. The story was different—a man lamenting the loss of his first child—but the need for freedom from pain was the same and so was the source of the pain itself; blood. I used the moving lyrics exactly as they were written; not having to change a thing. As I sang, moisture gathered in the air around Banning; my magic wringing out the water as if from a wet cloth. Ban went still as it began to rain over him in a very specific and forceful way. Just as the lyrics commanded, the blood was washed away from Banning's body, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thanks, Kyanite,” I whispered as I went to hug Banning.

  As they say; I got you, my love.

  I smiled against Banning's neck as he relaxed into my embrace. But then he suddenly stiffened and jerked away.

  “What is it?” I asked with concern.

  “I can still smell it,” Banning growled as he started for the pit again in jerky movements; as if he was fighting himself.

  “That must have been what drew him here,” Declan said as he grabbed one of Banning's arms.

  Gage grabbed the other arm, and Torin grabbed Banning's waist. The three of them wrestled Banning out of the corridor and into the main tunnel as our guards blocked the passage back to the pit. Banning was snarling and fighting; his teeth bared viciously, but the men didn't stop until they were far enough away that Banning couldn't smell the blood anymore.

  “Thank you,” Banning said in exhaustion. “It was impossible for me to ignore so much blood.”

  “It's a good thing you didn't drink it,” Gage said.

  “I was about to when all of you appeared,” Banning admitted. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth as he grit out, “I need a drink.”

  “Here, dude,” Gage held out his arm. “Go ahead; take the edge off.”

  Banning snatched Gage's arm and bit it immediately; too far gone to even say thank you. But after a few sips, Banning's shoulders relaxed, and his tight grip fell away from Gage. He eased out of the bite and laid his head back against the cave wall.

  “Thank you,” Banning whispered.

  “No problem.” Gage smacked Banning's shoulder.

  “Are you all right, Ban?” I asked gently.

  “All good,” Banning said as he stood, and then he smiled wide enough to show his canines. “Better than ever; thanks to Gage.”

  “Only the best blood for my friend, the Blooder Prince,” Gage joked.

  Banning must have really felt amazing because he laughed instead of telling Gage to fuck off. Or feck off, since we were in Ireland.

  “That obstacle seems a little too perfect,” Declan mused. “As if it had been made specifically for Banning.”

  “Do you think they have a sentient ward?” Torin asked.

  “Could be.” Declan nodded.
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  “Can you make sure to explain your shining-ones-speak after you say things like that?” Banning asked. “It can get a little annoying.”

  “As annoying as your modern mode of talking that seems completely senseless to us?” Torin asked.

  Banning rolled his eyes.

  “Just tell us what you mean by a sentient ward, Torin,” I snapped.

  Torin lifted his brows at me as the others gaped, and I blushed.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I'm a little on edge.”

  “I told you that it gets annoying.” Banning smirked at Torin.

  “A sentient ward can adjust its defenses according to the intruder,” Declan explained as Torin grimaced. “I thought the name was self-explanatory.”

  “So, a pool of poisoned blood for a blooder,” I said.

  “Drowning in blood; that would be an ironic end for me,” Banning muttered.

  “Drowned and poisoned,” Gage reminded him.

  “We had best stick close to each other,” Torin said. “It will be harder for the ward to generate obstacles if it can't pick out our individual weaknesses.”

  “What weaknesses?” Gage scoffed. “It would take an army to defeat us.”

  The cave rumbled, and we all looked at Gage with wide, furious eyes.

  “Shit,” Gage whispered.

  “What's wrong with you?” Torin hissed. “You just told the ward how to win!”

  “I didn't think it could manifest an army!” Gage said.

  “Manifestation is my trick,” Declan scowled as he strode down the tunnel to a place where it widened. “Perhaps I can deal with this.”

  Despite Declan's confidence, we all went to stand beside him and confront whatever was rumbling our way. Before it appeared, Declan manifested a multitude of weapons and set them around the tunnel before us. Swords, axes, spears, cleavers, scimitars; you name it, and it was there. The weapons were real—true manifestations instead of illusions—and I knew this amount of them would take a good chunk of Declan's energy. So, I prepared some backup.

  Perfect! Kyanite declared.

  As an army of faceless, silver-clad soldiers marched down the tunnel toward us, Declan's weapons shot out; slicing and stabbing through them. At the same time, the screeching, glass-shattering start of Björk's “Army of Me” blasted through the clamor. The oncoming army didn't falter as they were struck down by steel; merely stepping over their disintegrating, fallen comrades as they marched on. Our guards shot forward to engage any soldiers who made it past Declan's blade blockade.

  “Give me a sword!” Torin shouted to Declan. “I can't drain this magic; it's connected to the earth.”

  Gage shrieked as he shifted back into a griffin, and Banning stretched his neck side to side as swords appeared before both him and Torin. The men grabbed the weapons as Declan continued to focus on his magic, and Gage leapt into the fray. I remained beside Declan and focused on my magic as well. The grating grind and slams of sound led me into the confident lyrics, and I held my arms out wide as my magic manifested its own weapons... and the army to wield them.

  Again, the music was straightforward; come at me, and I will meet you with the force of an army. So, my magic took the words literally, and my intent produced a shockwave of power that condensed instead of spreading out. It collected into forms before us, and those forms took on my likeness.

  “Holy shit!” Banning shouted as a bunch of Elarias ran past him with lifted swords and glowing eyes.

  “Pull back!” Torin commanded.

  Torin, Gage, Banning, and our knights drew out of the fight and regrouped beside Declan and me. They stood there and watched in amazement as my Elaria Army beat the crap out of the ward's faceless soldiers. The men started to smile as the Elarias executed brilliant maneuvers that showcased both skill and speed. All those hours of watching the men train had left their mark on my subconscious, evidently.

  I started to feel the strain on my body; I had slowed the progress of my goddess magic, but it was still drawing on my energy, and I had gone and sung three songs in a row. I began to tremble with exhaustion. No; wait. That wasn't me; it was the ground that was trembling.

  The army of faceless soldiers suddenly disappeared. It seemed that the ward had waved its white flag. I immediately let go of my magic and took a deep, shaky breath.

  “Elaria, you're stretching yourself too thin,” Torin chided me as he slid an arm around my waist. “You should have let us handle that.”

  “We need to work together to get through this as fast as possible,” I said as I glanced at Declan. “How are you holding up, Dec?”

  “I'm okay,” Declan said. “I can manifest much more than a few swords, sweetheart.”

  “Don't forget that we are powerful in our own right,” Torin reminded me. “Even without the Rooster Spell uniting us and magnifying our might, we are some of the strongest beings in all the realms. We'll get past this ward.”

  “Okay,” I whispered as I watched my army fade away. “But that was pretty damn cool.”

  “It was beyond cool,” Gage said with a grin. “It was badass. I never knew you were such a talented swordswoman—or swordswomen.”

  “Yeah; I'm awesome in my head.” I chuckled.

  “You're awesome in reality,” Declan corrected me with a soft smile. Then his expression hardened and he added, “Now if we could please proceed without giving the ward any hints, that would be even more awesome.”

  “At least it gave up once it was obvious that we had bested it,” Gage pointed out.

  “Yes; that is interesting,” Declan murmured. “It could have fought on and used the opportunity to tire us, but it didn't.”

  “It's not just barring us, it's testing us,” Torin surmised.

  “Makes sense,” Declan agreed. “The treasures aren't meant to be hidden forever, they just need to be hidden from the wrong people.”

  “So, we need to prove that we're the right people?” Banning asked.

  “On several levels, it seems.” Declan nodded. “We've had tests of wit, resistance, and strength so far.”

  “What's next?” Gage asked.

  “I haven't a clue.” Declan grimaced.

  “Whatever it is, it will be harder than the last test,” Torin said. “That's how these things work.”

  “Fucking Shining Ones,” Gage huffed.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I didn't see that coming,” I muttered as I peered around a corner and into an enormous cavern.

  We didn't need the lantern there; glowing lichen illuminated the whole cave nearly to the level of halogens. It was more than enough light to see the creature that awaited us at the other end.

  “A dragon,” Declan huffed. “How last century; last, last, last century, actually.”

  “And that's not a drachen or a ryu,” Torin noted. “That dragon is pure beast.”

  “Those existed?” I asked as I remembered Darc's desire to make some dragons. How odd that I'd find one there.

  “A straggler,” Gage said. “The rest of its kind is on Torr-Chathair.”

  “Is this another test of strength?” Banning asked.

  “No; I don't think that's what this is,” Torin murmured. “Look at him; he's just sitting there waiting for us. He must know that we're here, and yet he hasn't charged or roared or shown any kind of aggression.”

  I stepped around the corner—fully into the cavern—and stared at the dragon pensively.

  “Elaria!” Declan hissed. “His fire could reach you at this range.

  “I'm fireproof, honey,” I said over my shoulder as I continued to stare at the dragon.

  The beast was bright red; a color that increased a person's blood pressure just from looking at it. As if that was necessary with a dragon. His wingspan was wider than a public swimming pool and his claws looked sharp enough to shred concrete. But his eyes looked listless and sad.

  “What's wrong, dragon?” I called out to it. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  I
t perked up and cocked its head at me. “You offer me assistance?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “What do you need?”

  “I'm lonely,” it said and sighed. “All I do is sit in this cave. I haven't seen sunlight in centuries.”

  “Why don't you leave?” I asked it.

  “The Shining Ones bound me here with spells.” It—no; he—lifted a leg to show me a massive manacle.

  “Is she talking to the dragon?” Sir Carrick asked in amazement.

  “If I free you, I'll need to get you somewhere other than Earth,” I said to the dragon. “I can't have you running around, scaring the humans.”

  “As if I'd want to stay here,” he huffed and a wisp of smoke trailed out of his nose.

  “Where would you go?” I asked it.

  “My family went to another planet,” he said. “Somewhere Griffins rule. I think I'd like to go there.”

  “Torr-Chathair.” I nodded. “I can get you passage.”

  “You can?” He stood excitedly.

  My consorts and our knights tensed, and I looked at them in surprise.

  “What's your problem?” I asked them.

  “Um, it looks as if it's about to charge,” Banning pointed out.

  “He just said that he wants to go to Torr-Chathair.” I scowled at Ban. “He's excited; give him a break.”

  “He said that?” Banning asked. “To you?”

  “Are you deaf?” I countered.

  “I don't think they can understand me,” the dragon said. “Not many speak the dragon tongue. I was surprised when you did.”

  “Dragon tongue?” I asked it, and then I turned back to the men. “Am I talking in another language?”

  “You can't tell?” Declan's eyes went wide.

  “You're communicating with the beast in what seems to be a collection of snarls and grunts,” Torin said slowly. “You're saying that you can understand it?”

  “I can,” I whispered.

  “See why I'm so lonely?” The dragon huffed. “No one can even speak to me. I wish I'd gone with the Griffins when I'd had the chance.”

  “You'll go now,” I promised him as I strode forward.

  “Elaria,” Torin rushed up beside me. “Hold on.”