by Amy Sumida
It still amazed me to think about it; hovering in space while I formed a planet then condensing myself into a physical body so I might experience my creation. I had made a world; an entire world! It boggled my mind a bit.
But that was long before I became Elaria. Long before a dark orb had pulled me to this planet, and Darcraxis had led me through this alien jungle with its glowing plant life and astounding animals. I had climbed this twisting, ribbon of land up to the path through the branches of the ancient tree. I remembered navigating this cave in a daze, called there by my once-husband, the God of Darkness and Water. Enthralled by his magic and his voice to go to him and set him free.
Now, I barely glanced at the surreal beauty of a planet that defied gravity and reason. Its mountains twirling over and around in narrow swaths like the track of a roller coaster while furred and feathered beasts flew through the curls, braving snowy heights or nesting in the humid depths of wild growth along a shimmering sea. Waterfalls danced off impossible heights, filling pools that sustained both the predators and prey of the world. But I couldn't look at it for long or I'd be lost to it. Ildathach has a beauty so awesome that it can't be appreciated with a quick look. You must stop and savor every aspect or you'll miss the breathtaking details.
So, instead, I stepped into the darkness with the god who had once ruled it. Ebony walls closed in around us like a shroud, the shadows inky and cold. Darc took a torch from a wall sconce and held it out to me in silent entreaty. A flick of fire from my fingertips lit it and valiantly fought the chill black with golden, wavering light. We moved forward, hands held and shoulders squared, the torch lifted high above Darc's head. Whatever we found there, we would face it together.
We came to a dead end and Darc set the torch in a holder on the wall. A bowl-like depression in the wall across from us gave the tunnel a constructed feel. And it had been constructed; formed by fairies to hold a god. I went forward and laid my hands against the curved wall; this was where my husband had waited for centuries, his soul suspended in magic and yet powerless to access it. All Darcraxis could do was see through me; use our connection to live a half-life without ever being able to speak to me. Not until I had become powerful enough to hear him.
Darc's hands went to my shoulders as he pressed in behind me. “You made it bearable, my fire. You, as always, filled my darkness with light. Do not concern yourself with the years we spent apart; focus instead on those we have ahead of us, together.”
I turned in his arms and wrapped myself tightly around his body. “I hate thinking about you here, alone in the dark.”
“I love the dark, and I just told you; I wasn't alone.” He pushed me back to stare into my eyes. “The years before I met you, the time I spent adrift in space, that was when I was alone. That was agony. But as long as I am connected to you, I will not suffer. You sustain me.”
I went back to hugging him instead of answering, and we stayed like that for a long moment before our gazes wandered to the heavy chest on the ground before us. The dark wood seemed to shift ominously beneath the torchlight.
I went to crouch before the chest and push back the lid; something jolting inside me as I did. The mere proximity to my caged magic turned its allure into a siren call that took tremendous willpower to resist. Darc's hand slid into mine and it became easier to bear. That's why we had gone to check on the orbs together; to strengthen each other against the call of our magic. If one of us started to give in, the other would pull back.
Nestled on a bed of black velvet, the orbs waited peacefully with the soul-severing dagger set between them like a referee. The sphere on the left was a perfect black, so dark that it seemed to absorb the colors around it and offer nothing in return, not even a gleaming reflection of the shining, golden orb beside it. The fiery shell of the Orb of Light glowed like a mini sun, nearly impossible to look at directly. This was the sphere we needed to assess, but I couldn't do it. My magic may serve as a barrier, but that was all. It was Darc's power that resided within, and he must be the one to judge the weight of it.
“Steady me, my fire.” Darc held his hand over the Orb of Light; palm down and fingers splayed.
I rested my hand over his, and we moved them down together. Darc hissed as my Light hit him, but I immediately pushed the barrier down and away; thinned it enough for him to search the magic hidden beyond. I didn't have enough power to break the orb completely, but I did have enough to dilute it.
Darcraxis closed his eyes and connected with his old magic. Seconds ticked by. Minutes. Sweat broke out on his brow and dripped down my back. Finally, Darc pulled back with a jerk and fell onto the cave floor.
“It's not whole,” Darc whispered, his eyes flickering with firelight and fury. “Someone has stolen a piece of my darkness!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
We returned to the Crouching Lion, Banning's country club in Kansas, to find all of my consorts waiting for us.
“Well?” Slate growled.
Darcraxis set his glowing glare on the Gargoyle.
“Fuck!” Slate cursed.
“How?” Torin asked the obvious question. “How could anyone steal your magic?”
“They'd have to be extremely powerful.” Darc shook his head in bafflement.
“No beneather is strong enough to steal magic from a god,” Declan insisted. “Especially not a Shining One god.”
“Beneather races are born of Gods,” Gage pointed out. “And Gods know better than to hand their children the means to steal from them.”
“We made our children pretty damn strong.” I glanced at Darc. “It was our undoing.”
“Strong enough to oppose us, but not to steal our magic,” Darcraxis protested. “No Shining One is capable of this.”
“Well, someone is capable,” Torin said firmly. “And we must discover who.”
“But you said that the piece of Darkness you borrowed would return to the orb eventually,” Slate said to Darc. He was simmering down and starting to use that sharp mind of his. “If even you, the owner of the magic, can't hold onto it forever, how could this thief manage to take it? Shouldn't it fly back to the orb the instant it was free of you?”
“In theory, yes.” Darc shrugged helplessly. “But that theory has been proven wrong.”
“It has to be a spell,” I concluded. “A spell to alter the magic's trajectory.”
“A spell to steal god magic,” Declan murmured. “Or perhaps one to forge a tool to do the stealing. The Shining Ones created the soul-severing dagger, after all, and that was, essentially, a magic-stealing instrument.”
We all went silent as we processed this.
“Most races have the ability to work minor magic; all it takes is will, knowledge, and focus,” Torin murmured pensively. “But major spellwork such as this would take an expert. A few races are capable but only one has worked intimately with us.”
“The Witches,” Darc whispered and looked at me apologetically.
He knew that I wouldn't want to believe that a witch could be behind the theft. These are people who I'd fought for and fought beside. Several of them are like family to me. But one of those very same witches, who I'd once considered to be family, had betrayed my parents and forced the Rooster Spell on me as he died. Thomas Frost had been my father's best friend; part of a close-knit trio of friends, actually. My father, Tom, and Nigel Windthrope had been buddies for centuries. But Tom had secretly hated my parents, holding them responsible for the death of the woman he loved. And Tom made them pay for the imagined crime in despicable ways; my parents, Nigel, and several sirens.
So, did I think a witch could be behind this? Fuck, yes I did.
“We need to speak to Odin,” I said grimly.
They all agreed. Even if it wasn't a witch, Odin's opinion could be helpful. Unlike Shining Ones, who relied more on their jewel magic than on spellwork, Witches predominantly employed spells, and Odin is a master craftsman. So, we traveled to Kyanite and then back to Earth; specifically to Coven Cay.
Despite my doubts concerning Witches as a whole and my past with one who had betrayed me, I still trusted Odin. Odin had proved himself to me too many times for me to doubt him now.
“Not possible,” Odin said firmly.
We were in his private rooms again; this conversation was one we didn't want to be overheard. So, after we found the Witch Leader of Earth in the Coven library, we asked for a private word, and he had brought us to his sitting room. Now, all of us glowered at him; a half-circle of irritated and frustrated expressions directed at Odin. The worst of the lot was from Darcraxis.
“Why not?” Darc growled.
“First of all; lose the bass from your tone, Darcraxis. I'm not your enemy,” Odin snapped.
Darc took a cleansing breath and nodded.
“No witch could accomplish that, not even me,” Odin went on. “Hell, when the Witches made the Relic, we had to pool all of our power to do so. I believe the Shining Ones did the same when they forged the soul-severing dagger. No single person, be they witch, shining one, or even jinn could form such a tool alone. And to take someone else's magic without a tool, you'd need to establish a hook in it first; something to use to pull it out. I know of no spell that could hook a god's magic while still inside him, and I know all of our spells. Honestly, the only one I can think of who possesses the ability to steal your magic, Darcraxis, is Elaria.”
You need to back off, Left-Eye! RS hissed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I whispered in shock. “Are you that offended that I suggested it might be a witch, that you would point your finger at me?”
“I'm not saying that you did it.” Odin held up his hand to ward off the men, who were already leaning menacingly toward him, as well as my ire. “I'm saying that you're the only one with an intimate connection to Darc's magic. But even if you did take it, I don't see how you could hold onto it. Your magic, the ones you've been learning to handle recently, are in direct opposition to his. It would make for a very unstable internal environment. One possibility would be a magnification of the Darkness as well as the Light. Similar to the way a person becomes immune to certain diseases after recovering from them; the introduction of an abrasive magic might stimulate a defensive growth in both of them and then tolerance for each other. Or they could simply fight to the death with your Light as the likely winner. Either way, you would show signs of this struggle externally; which you don't.”
“Of course, I don't!” I nearly screeched. “I didn't take his magic.”
“I know that, Ellie,” Odin said gently. “I'm proving to you that I don't believe you did.”
“You shouldn't need proof,” Declan snapped. “The mere thought is preposterous.”
Again, Odin held up his hands and nodded.
“But who took it?” I asked the question we needed answered. “Who could take it, besides me?”
“Is there anyone else who you are connected to this intimately?” Odin asked Darc.
Darcraxis sighed deeply and considered the question. Then he blinked in horrified revelation and shifted his stare to me.
“A shining one?” I interpreted his look easily. “Do they have that strong of a connection to us? They had to use the dagger before.”
“The Shining Ones have come a long way since then,” Odin murmured. “They've begun delving more an more into magical arts; using spellwork to magnify their power.”
“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath as I exchanged a look with Declan and Torin.
The last King of Copper had been experimenting with magic and had created magical bombs; grenades of charged copper that could destroy other magic. One had been used on Torin's Onyx Garden; the ring of onyx statues around the Onyx Castle. Each statue is charged with magic and when they're activated, they link together and form an impenetrable ring around the castle. Except it hadn't been impenetrable to a magic bomb. The invention was the Shining One equivalent of a nuclear bomb. Once the King of Copper was dead, we made sure to erase all evidence of the bomb's creation because none of us wanted that kind of power to fall into the wrong hands. But the point is; if such a thing could be created, then other magical inventions were sure to follow. The Shining Ones were growing bored with the status quo, and when powerful beneathers get bored, either magnificent or malignant things happen.
Odin's single eye shot back and forth between me and my fey husbands, as did the stares of the rest of my men, but when we failed to explain, he let it go. Odin is old enough to know that some things are better left unsaid.
“The tie you have with your children could indeed be strengthened with spellwork and formed into a leash that could—hypothetically—be used to pull magic out of your body,” Odin went on as if I hadn't spoken. “But the conditions would have to be just right for it to succeed. If you were at full power, I doubt it would have worked.”
“But I wasn't at full strength,” Darc murmured. “And all of Tír na nÓg knew it.”
“Shit,” I whispered wearily. “We're back to fighting our own people.”
“Not people; person,” Odin corrected. “They wouldn't be able to share the stolen magic so I can't imagine anyone helping them. You're looking for a single sidhe who is adept in spellcraft. If their jewel happens to have properties of drawing or luring, that would be a benefit to them. I'd start with those shining ones.”
“Like a lodestone?” I asked.
Odin shrugged. “Sure.”
“Who's the King of Lodestone?” I asked Torin and Declan. “There's a queen too, right?”
“King Desmond and Queen Karstyn,” Torin answered grimly. “The Lodestone Kingdom is just below Kyanite.”
“That's an interesting coincidence,” Odin noted.
“I don't recall having any issues with them,” I mused. “Not back during the Sapphire War or during my time as Faenestra.”
“No; the Lodestone Royals are adept at staying out of violent affairs,” Declan drawled. “They enjoy their neutrality.”
“The Switzerland of Jewel Kingdoms,” Slate muttered.
“So, why would they suddenly take a side?” I asked. “One that pits them against their old gods and three jewel kingdoms?”
“It sounds unlikely,” Declan agreed.
“I think we need more than a jewel's properties to convict a sidhe of theft,” Torin said. “You two amassed no shortage of enemies during your recent reign. I think it would be wiser to start with that list.”
“That long list,” Declan added with a grimace at Torin. “Although there is one royal couple at the top.”
Together, they said, “The King and Queen of Diamond.”
I groaned. The Battle of Sapphire had seen one of the Diamond Royals' sons dead and the other banished. On top of that, Torin had been responsible for their third child's departure to Earth, years earlier when he had grounded most of her magic. So, yes; they had good reason to hate us.
“They actually supported Darc and me,” I reminded everyone.
“They knew better than to mess with Gods,” Torin argued. “But now...”
“We're not Gods anymore. At least not in their eyes,” I finished. “And stealing Darc's magic would make them more powerful than us.”
Tor just nodded.
“What are the properties of Diamond?” Odin asked.
“Prosperity, Physical Strength, and Willpower,” Declan answered.
“Willpower,” Odin mused. “That might work.”
“We're groping blindly in the dark,” Darcraxis announced. “And I know all about darkness. It blinds and deceives; sounds get distorted and every motion morphs into monsters. I will not randomly lash out at my children; they have suffered enough. I want proof; hard facts in hand before we act. Even before we interrogate; confronting innocent sidhe might make us more enemies than we already have.”
I took Darc's hand and nodded. “You're right. Whoever took your magic did so for a reason. They'll use it soon. We just need to wait and see who acts. Then we pounce.”
The rest of the men exchan
ged unsettled looks.
“When you do see some action, let me know; I may be able to offer assistance,” Odin said.
“Thanks, Odin.” I gave him a tired smile. “Oh, and we've made some progress with the Phoenixes.”
“The missing ones? Shava told me you were helping her.” Odin sat forward.
“We've caught a human assassin who was hired to kill a phoenix and collect the ashes,” I said.
“An assassin?” Odin made a huffing sound of amazement. “Someone hired out for a phoenix killing?”
“Yep.”
“Where did you find this assassin?”