by Lan Chan
We both phased at the same time. Her spirit brushed against the edges of my Ley sight. I clamped down, reinforcing the strength of my aura. Instead of draining power from the supernaturals, I strengthened their connections as a way to mask my presence.
Weeks of being abused culminated in a single shot of vile rage. It gave me speed I never knew existed. Setting aside all uncertainty, I latched on to the root of her soul and jerked it backwards. Giselle gave a short gasp. She began to unravel. If I wanted to, I could tug and her soul would come apart in my hands.
Satisfaction bloomed in the mental connection between us. I knew if I killed her, the psycho would be vindicated. Reaching out with my left fist, I smashed the soul circle to smithereens. A trio of shrieks erupted amongst the group of supernaturals. That’s right, ladies, I see you.
As I allowed the Ley dimension to disperse, the Evil Three rubbed at their temples like their minds had been scorched. Once a Terran, always a Terran. Still holding Giselle’s soul in my grasp, I knelt down beside her twitching body.
“Not so funny anymore, huh?” I said.
But in my mind, her soulless laughter rang out. Disgusted, I put her back together. When she was whole, Giselle propped herself up on her elbows.
“Easy, wasn’t it?” she said. “Like slipping on a favourite glove. Deep down, Alessia, you were made for this.”
I punched her in the face.
31
For three days, I walked around with a satisfied smile as I relived clocking Giselle. Sure, my fist ached and Sophie had to poultice it up, but it was worth it. Not only that, she got a royal dressing down from Jacqueline and Professor Mortimer. At out next training session, she arrived escorted by a pair of Nephilim guards. Her only redemption was that the lesson had been a twisted success.
The afterglow of my victory leeched away a week later when Peter announced in Herbology that we would be spending our lesson in the Grove.
The problem became evident when we reached the gate and I stopped dead. The layer of magic erected specifically to keep me out brushed up against my skin like an icy finger. It was impossible to keep my mood buoyed as the other students trudged past. Emily gave me a backward glance but didn’t stop. She clutched the strap of the heavenly blade reassuringly.
“Ahh, Peter.” I pointed at an imaginary line on the ground.
Peter stroked him chin. “Hmmm. I thought for sure you would have worked out your differences by now.”
“What about them makes you believe they are logical creatures?”
My point was proven with the appearance of the purple nymph who screeched at me from behind the gate. If I didn’t get the picture before, it was crystal clear now. No Alessias allowed.
Thalia tapped her foot lightly. “Alessia is still a student. Whatever issues you have with her, she needs to be able to access the Grove for her lessons.”
There was a tense moment when Thalia held the purple nymph’s gaze. The nymph’s glamour flickered to reveal snippets of an elongated face and spiny claws. Her lips peeled back from her teeth. It was a terrifying sight. Sadly, in this dimension, the nymphs were still susceptible to the will of the Fae. The chill of the barrier cracked and began to thaw until I could no longer feel its icy kiss against my skin.
“Come, Alessia,” Thalia bade me forward. She raised a condemning finger at the purple nymph. “No tricks, please.”
Gaining entry should have given me a sense of satisfaction, but as I followed Thalia to the Arcana clearing, apprehension washed over me. Had it always been that simple for the Fae to overwhelm the nymphs or was it just Thalia’s power? I remembered what Kai had said to me about their predicament, and my irritation turned to pity.
A couple of hours of hard labour cured that right up.
“What’s been going on around here?” I complained. “The place is a mess!”
Isla was trying to drag the embedded root of a sorrel plant out of the ground. Her gloved hands kept slipping and ripping off leaves instead. Unlike the Fae forest, the Grove and kitchen gardens both has strict rules against magical interference. Isla snatched off a glove and smacked it on the ground a couple of times. It was during lessons like this that I was grateful I only had human strength. It was the fifth stem and root she’d snapped. Now she had to use her fork and trowel to carefully dig the root out without leaving any behind. Sorrel plants burrowed deep into the earth.
“I don’t care what you have to do,” Isla huffed. “But you better fix this situation right now. You call this Herbology? It’s just slave labour. One restoration spell and this could be fixed.”
The pink nymph snapped her teeth at us.
“Can you lay off the Fae magic when we’re around them? I’m in enough trouble as it is.” I struggled with my own burdock root. “Seriously, did somebody actually plant weeds in here or what?”
Diana snickered. “I think you should ask your fellow humans.”
I glanced at where the Evil Three were wrestling with a patch of spear thistles. They were in detention for helping Giselle with her stunt. But they took it with better grace than I would have. Nah, couldn’t be them. Rachel had taught them better. I surveyed where Emily was cutting the grass with the heavenly blade. Great. She was using a one-of-a-kind weapon as a hand sickle.
“So, they got her despite your warning, huh?” I asked Isla.
The Fae scrunched her nose. “She can’t say no to anything. And she’s scared of them, so she’ll do whatever they say. I turned my back for a second and they contracted her.”
“She seems to be handling it well enough.”
“That’s because she’s harmless. They treat her like a pet.”
“Maybe you should try that tactic, Blue,” Diana teased.
“I’ll know for next time I get dragged into a secret supernatural society.”
Nobody was more surprised than I was that I got out of the class without having my eyeballs scratched out.
Sophie looked like that was exactly what she wanted to do to herself in our next Restricted Magic lesson. I caught her walking around outside late at night with wet hair so she could catch a cold.
She didn’t have much luck. I suspected it was all those healing potions she made and tested on herself.
True to his word, Professor Suleiman wrote the word blood in capital letters on the board when he arrived to class.
“I hope you’ve done your reading,” he said, taking a seat on his desk.
“Don’t worry about reading,” James said. “Why don’t we get Sophie to give us a quick tutorial on how to steal supernatural blood and use it for spells?”
Sophie shrank in her seat. After his clash with Charles, they both got suspended for a week. Since then, James was being especially obnoxious to distract from the fact that he’d pretty much gotten his ass handed to him by a fourteen-year-old.
“That’s enough, James. I don’t want to hear from you for the rest of the lesson.”
Half the class clapped. The professor curbed their enthusiasm with a wave of his hand. “I know this class is merely theoretical,” he said, “but remember the things you will learn here will inform you when you leave the Academy. Most of you will never have cause to deal with soul or blood magic of the restricted kind. But if you are ever unfortunate enough to come across it, you’ll be glad you paid attention. Now, blood. The texts say that all blood rituals are regulated by the council. We don’t teach blood magic at this Academy. If you choose to apply to the elite guard when you leave Bloodline, they have courses that will assist in countering the magic. Why is it such a difficult discipline to counter?”
Sophie’s hand shot up. Where I was a proponent of avoiding unpleasant things, Sophie leaned into them. “Because, like souls, all blood is different.”
“That’s right, Sophie. My blood magic rituals will be different to yours. As will everyone else’s in this room differ from each other. There are some spells that are universal like binding and compulsion spells. But there are some things one blood mag
e can do that another cannot. That’s why it is a discipline that takes decades to master if it is ever done at all. And why it is so heavily regulated. The Council might forgive a blood magic ritual that is done using your own blood, but stealing blood from another person and using it for a spell is strictly forbidden.”
Isla raised her hand. “How is a ritual different in this instance to a spell?”
“Good question. A spell is generalist magic. The blood used in most spells doesn’t have to come from a human host. You’ve no doubt come across spells that require a certain amount of blood, not a specific type. A ritual is very specific in nature. It is usually constructed with a certain purpose in mind. The blood then must be derived from a human host. Either the spellcaster or the one they are trying to harm.”
“What about blood circles?” Diana said. “The textbook says blood can and has been used to amplify an arcane circle in the same way as salt, but I don’t see the difference between that and using blood for any other magic.”
“What is the normal purpose of an arcane circle, Diana?”
She thought on it. “Normally it’s for protection or summoning. Sometimes for warding.”
“Exactly. Blood used for the purposes of keeping yourself safe is far different to blood used to hurt somebody else. You see the distinction?”
“I’ve seen Professor McKenna use blood in a potion,” Kieran said. “How is that permitted?”
“Professor McKenna is a certified blood magic user. All elite guards and members of the faculty must be certified. As does anyone who deals with the undead or necromancy in general. Why is that?”
Nobody knew. Aside from the creepiness of it, we didn’t have much contact with the undead. After a long moment of silence, Sophie raised her hand. The professor nodded at her. “Unlike other forms of magic,” she said, “blood retains its properties after a person dies. So, it is possible for a person who has someone’s blood to maintain control over the soul of the person who dies. A ritual like that can only be broken by a stronger magic user.”
Goosebumps pricked along my skin. “You would know, wouldn’t you?” James couldn’t help saying.
“Out!” Professor Suleiman ordered.
“What?”
The professor stared James down until the Nephilim’s face turned puce. He banged his things while he packed up and stomped out.
“I have to touch on it, Sophie,” the professor said.
Sophie sighed. She nodded and rested her chin on her crossed arms. “If you must.”
“You’ve no doubt read about the reason why Enock Mwape was listed in the Book of Beasts. His magic was unique in that he was able to transmutate blood into raw power. In that way, he was able to steal the gifts of other supernaturals. When he was caught, Mwape had the ability to shift into a jackal as well as having the vampiric compulsion gift. He was in the middle of growing a set of wings when he was finally caught. It took two squadrons of elite guards to take him down and they sustained heavy casualties. This is an extreme case, of course. Mwape’s alchemy was unique. But you see the importance of restricting blood magic, don’t you? Unlike the soul, blood is easy to come by. We bleed every day in war. If we don’t restrict the magic, there will be chaos.”
We spent the rest of the lesson going through case studies of criminals who had used blood to aid them in their crimes. There were plenty to choose from. We could take our pick from sorceresses who abducted children and drank their blood in order to stay young. Scorned mages who killed their love rivals and used their blood to trap them in this world so they could torture them after death. And my favourite, a group of rebel vampires who resented supernatural society rules and decided that they would drink from whomever they pleased. Once they were done, they warded the person’s home in blood runes that kept the scene in gruesome condition so they could come back and relive the pleasure of the kill. It made me wonder whether Andrei’s family had anything to do with the vamps in question.
Speaking of the devil often made him appear. When I arrived back at the dorm that evening, there was a message from him to return his call.
Sophie gagged. “I don’t know how you’re still friends with him.”
“Necessity!”
“Don’t lie. You like that idiot. Two crazies in a pod.” She packed her stuff. “I’m heading to the library. I want to research some more for my potions.” That was Sophie code for her wanting to get a head start on an assignment to beat Celeste. And she had the gall to call me crazy!
My spidey senses tingled out of control when Andrei accepted the call and was dressed and shaved for a change.
“I don’t know if I should be elated or concerned,” I said. “I mean, are you actually wearing shoes?”
He ground his teeth so hard his bottom jaw jutted out. “I’d hate to think what Nephilim society might be like with your rapier wit ruffling their feathers. When you’re done cackling, I’ve found something that belongs to my family.”
I wasn’t done cackling at my own wit for a while. He rolled his eyes and waited. I swallowed my amusement. “Okay, where is it?”
“It currently belongs to somebody else.”
“Huh?”
“It was one of Seb’s toys. When he grew up, my mother passed it on to a family friend and now it’s up for auction.”
The way he casually delivered that information had me frowning. “Up for auction where?”
“Ravenhall’s black market.”
“Of course it is.”
“Are you in or not?”
“Why can’t you just go on your own?”
“I may or may not be on the outs with the auctioneers. But you’re a hot ticket. You can get us in anywhere.”
I massaged my forehead. Was I really contemplating tagging along with him to the supernatural black market? “You promised,” he urged. Sophie was wrong, I despised him.
“Fine. But we better make it out in one piece.”
“Of course.”
Somehow, I didn’t really believe him.
32
The day of the auction dawned bright and sunny. I considered it a universal up-yours to Andrei. He didn’t have the decency to be irritated. As he’d predicted, he’d gotten a sufficient amount of grief when we approached the barrier to the market. As a sweetener, he had paraded me in front of the no-neck bouncers who reacted like I was royalty. We were promptly swept into the market.
Sophie scrubbed her palm over her left arm and shuddered. The pinched expression on her face mirrored my own. I wasn’t sure if it was because we were at the Ravenhall black market or if it was the overwhelming stench of the fens that did it. I suspected a little from column A and a little from column B.
The black market was no different to any of the open-air markets they had in the human world. Except that the stalls held articles for spellcasting and potions as opposed to dream catchers and – oh wait, we traipsed past a section of stalls selling dream catchers. I stand corrected.
“How’s your nose?” I asked Andrei. If the smell was this bad for humans, I imagined it was murder on his supernatural senses.
Andrei shrugged. “Dosed myself with a dampening spell before we got here.”
“Nice of you to share.”
“I wouldn’t want to take away from your first experience of the wonderful world of dark magic.” He raked his gaze over my face. “Then again, I’ve seen you take on worse.”
On my left, Sophie was fidgeting. She had a bigger stride than me but was somehow lagging a little behind. Her nose twitched and her head snapped every which way.
“You okay?” I asked her.
The disapproval she’d worn turned into an outright scowl. “This place freaks me out.” I might have believed her sentiment had her head not almost twisted off her neck as she craned behind us at the flavoured coal store. She veered off into oncoming bodies. I yanked her back beside me a millisecond before she would have crashed into a hulking para-human in nothing but a toga.
“Get a grip,
Soph!”
She rubbed at the back of her neck. “This place doesn’t feel right.”
I swept my focus over the immediate area. To the naked eye, there wasn’t too much happening here that was different to the stores in Rivia. If you took away the oppressive cloud that was enveloping us, everything was peachy.
“Brace yourself,” Andrei said ominously. He placed his hand flat out in front of him and mumbled something in a dead language that I didn’t understand. Some things never changed.
I couldn’t see what he was warning us against. A dome of red light flared around his body. Sophie’s hand became a manacle around my wrist.
There was no physical line in the grass, but in two short steps, my body was coated in what felt like magical sludge. I forced in a breath even as my airways felt like they were closing. Darkness saturated the sky above, bleeding into the atmosphere until the sun became a muted orb that barely lit the way in front of us. Almost as quickly as the sensation began, the pressure on my lungs eased.
I whipped around and it was as though a veil had descended over the world. The stalls of multi-coloured crystals, earthenware pots, and fringed black shawls morphed into crumbling shanties with stained cotton cloths as walls that separated them. I gulped as I took in the severed hands of apes and para-humans on the table closest to us. Next to that was a stall made entirely of rickety shelves. Glass jars lined every free space. An eyeball hung suspended in clear liquid. It stared right at me with pale blue irises. As I watched, the eye blinked. Sophie hissed.
“What just happened?” I said, tearing my gaze away from the chubby baby hand that was beckoning me into the stall.
“We’ve entered the veil,” Andrei said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not in Kansas anymore, squirt.”
I stamped my foot. Andrei huffed. “What do you want me to say? That we’ve stepped off the Supernatural reservation and are currently standing on what is technically a little piece of the Hell dimension?”