He froze, allowing her to move farther into the room. She closed her eyes to better focus on the threads of power calling to her. It was subtle and elegantly crafted, but it was difficult to sort through all the layers. She shook her head and tried to bury the unease plaguing her.
Dax moved beside her. “What is it?”
“Fae magic of a sort. Ancient. But it’s different from anything I’ve felt before. It’s been changed somehow…” She let her voice trail off, unable to fully explain what she was picking up. It was almost as though there was a component about the magic that had changed from its original purpose.
Malek arched an eyebrow. “Do you know where it’s coming from?”
She swallowed and nodded, walking over to where she knew the safe was hidden. Unlike the safe in the library, this one was seated in the floor. She moved aside the heavy woven rug covering it, and Dax knelt beside her, studying it.
“Any traps?”
She frowned, placing her hand directly on the safe. She closed her eyes and sent her awareness outward, but she didn’t pick up anything except the strange magic. “I can’t be sure. Something is strange about the item in there. It may be interfering with my senses.”
Dax muttered a curse under his breath. She frowned, but it was impossible to offer him any real assurances. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t tell any more than that.
“Malek, watch the door,” Dax ordered and pulled out his lockpicks.
Sabine sat back on her heels, waiting for him to work through the lock. In a few quick movements, he’d slid the tumblers into place and wrenched open the door. A black velvet bag was inside, the shape revealing the object was longer than the length of her hand.
Dax started to reach inside, but she grabbed his wrist. “Wait. Let me.”
His inquisitive gaze flew to her, but she couldn’t put it into words. She knew this item was dangerous to him, but she’d didn’t know how. Leaning down, she picked up the cloth pouch, the heavy weight somewhat surprising. When nothing happened, she relaxed and opened the bag to ensure this was the item they were seeking.
It was a golden chalice encrusted with several precious stones. The workmanship was remarkable and unlike anything she’d ever seen. She held it toward Dax to show him, and he thrust his hand into the bag. His back bowed and a shout exploded out of him, his eyes flashing silver and staying that way. His skin shimmered, the color deepening to a sickly blue-black.
Sabine gasped, terror flooding through her as Dax’s tenuous grip on his demonic abilities faltered. Something was draining his lifeforce and pulling his demonic powers to the forefront. His hand tightened around the chalice, and his body started to tremble uncontrollably. Flashes of gray light snaked up his arms, pulsing in time with the magical trap surrounding the chalice. Sabine fumbled, trying to pull out her knife as Dax let out an ear-deafening roar that undoubtedly alerted everyone within the surrounding buildings to their presence.
Malek swore and dragged a dresser in front of the door to barricade it. “If you can snap him out of it, you need to hurry. We won’t have much time until they break down the door.”
Sabine blew out a breath, knowing they had even less time than that. The gray color of the magic imprisoning Dax could only be the work of a necromancer or one of its minions. Necromancers always corrupted the natural order of things to suit their purposes. They sipped on souls the same way she might enjoy a glass of Faerie wine. If she couldn’t bring Dax back under control of himself, he’d rend a path of death and destruction in his wake until the spell killed him.
The only thing that might work was to counteract the death magic with a source of life. Slicing open her hand with the edge of her blade, Sabine slapped her bleeding hand against Dax’s mouth. He latched on, drinking it as she poured her blood and power into him. Hopefully, it would be enough to break the chains tethering him to the chalice.
It fell out of his hands with a clatter, but he continued drinking until Malek wrenched him away from her. Dax’s eyes were still silver, but he was power-drunk and would remain that way for some time. Even worse, her efforts hadn’t worked. The gray magic of the necromancer still surrounded him.
She scooped up the fallen chalice, understanding she needed to break the magical link Dax had formed with it. Until she did, none of them would be safe and it would continue draining his lifeforce. The power she’d offered him was only a temporary boost, and she didn’t know how long it would last until it started stealing his life again.
Excruciating, white-hot pain lanced through her. She struggled against succumbing to it and tried to focus on the magic affecting Dax. A ward, vaguely familiar to one she’d seen before, had been embedded over the chalice. This was the source of the gray magic attacking Dax.
Her hands trembled. The magic contained within the chalice itself was even greater than the trap. But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by it right now. Whatever the chalice was, it wasn’t killing Dax. A necromancer had crafted a lich ward, a nasty piece of spellcraft specifically designed to drain someone’s lifeforce. Dax must be the intended target, which was why she could still see the gray magic surrounding him. It was impossibly complex, and Sabine didn’t have enough time for a more traditional severing of its hold over Dax.
She turned her attention to the chalice itself and the source of power she sensed within it. Some long-dormant part of her knew it was crafted by the Fae. She explored it carefully, searching for a way to use it to break the hold over Dax.
An unfamiliar scene flashed through her mind’s eye. A ritual. Drums. Words etched into her mind, unlike anything she’d heard before. It was a memory, but it had never been hers. The scent of sulfur and burnt leaves filled the air, but it wasn’t from Dax’s power or even from the necromancer’s trap. It was a long-forgotten remnant from the time the chalice was first forged.
In her hands was an object of power. Like the Faerie wine she enjoyed drinking, the chalice offered her a shocking insight. Only a Fae could wield the chalice and claim its power. The trap itself was a perversion, fixed in place using a combination of undead and demonic blood. It was clumsy and coarse compared to the elegance and beauty of the magic contained within the artifact.
It might be possible to use that power to break the necromancer’s spell. All magic demanded a sacrifice, even if it was hers. Blood dripped from her hand and she smeared it over the chalice, coating the gemstones in an offering.
She gasped as the magic of the chalice rushed through her, strong and more potent than anything she’d ever experienced. Sabine’s glamour fell away as she grappled the tidal wave of power, attempting to direct it to break its hold over Dax. Her skin began to glow, her hair lightening into an impossible shade of silver that could never belong to a human. The winding, silver thorn tattoos that were the hallmark of her heritage reappeared on her hands and arms, pulsing with magical intent.
Someone or something thudded against the door, trying to break it down. She ignored it and gripped the chalice tightly, refusing to release it. The power from the chalice rushed through her, trailing up her hands and arms, burning along the path of the markings on her skin. The magic was both Unseelie and Seelie, before they had ever been sundered. The chalice was an ancient relic, forged from a time when the gods still walked this world. It was flavored with their power.
Items of power had their own awareness, and this one was no different. Sabine had never held one before, but she recalled the lessons she’d learned as a child. Understanding what it wanted, she stopped fighting. Instead, she poured her power into the chalice, connecting with it and letting its power flow over her. It recognized her as worthy, and the magical attack ceased abruptly. The golden cup fell from her hands, clattering to the ground, and she slumped over, gasping for breath.
Malek reached for her, but Dax growled. “Don’t touch her.”
“Dax,” she whispered, recognizing most of her magic had been used trying to break the trap holding him. Dax wrapped his arms around her
and pulled her to her feet. The pounding at the door continued, and she dimly heard the sound of wood splintering. At least Dax seemed to be in control of himself once more and one crisis had been averted.
Dax scooped her into his arms and carried her over to the bed. “Do you have enough strength to hide yourself?”
She blinked, trying to fumble with her limited magic, and nodded. It would be a crude undertaking, but it was imperative it be done. The glamour settled over her skin, a thousand pinpricks as she fixed the illusion in place.
“We need to get her out of here,” Malek warned, pushing another piece of furniture in front of the door. They’d break it down any minute, and she couldn’t risk being caught here in her weakened state.
“There’s an attic access in the sitting area,” she managed, leaning against one of the posters of the bed and trying to fortify her remaining strength. It would take some time and rest before her magic naturally replenished itself.
Dax yanked open the attic access, studying the darkness. “We can escape to the roof and over to the adjacent building. Can you climb?”
Sabine winced. “I don’t think I have much choice, but I might need some help. The chalice should be safe to pick up for now, but use the bag, just in case. I don’t have enough magic left right now if you trigger it again.”
Dax walked back over and carefully used the bag like a glove to pick up the fallen artifact. He slid it back inside and pulled the drawstring tight, hiding it from view.
Malek frowned and motioned toward the attic entrance. “They’re going to be through the door in another minute. We need to leave. Now.”
Dax affixed the bag to his waist and frowned. “Malek, take her back to the tavern. Keep her off the main streets and out of sight.”
Malek moved over to her and wrapped his arm around Sabine, pulling her to her feet. She was still unsteady, but that wouldn’t get any better until she had a chance to rest. Peering up at Dax, she asked, “What about you?”
“I’ll stall them.” Dax slid his sword from its sheath. He turned back to Malek, his eyes flashing silver. “If any harm comes to her, I’ll hunt you to the ends of the world and beyond.”
Malek’s jaw clenched. “Nothing will happen to her. I won’t allow it.”
Dax gave him a curt nod. Malek started to lead her toward the attic access, but she stopped beside Dax and looked into his eyes. “Come back to me, Dax.”
His mouth curved upward into his telltale smirk. “Run along, little Fae. I have people to kill.”
She reached out, placing her bleeding hand against his sword arm. “By blood and magic, I offer you my strength and demand you return to me.”
His eyes flashed silver as her power flowed toward him, and he jerked away. In a voice barely recognizable, he roared, “Go! Now!”
Without waiting for her to say or do anything, Malek swept her toward the attic access and pushed her up the ladder. It was none too soon as the door splintered and crashed open behind them.
Chapter Ten
Malek glanced at Sabine. She'd been leaning on him heavily for the past ten minutes, but her usual grace was absent as her steps became even more sluggish. He bent down and scooped her into his arms. She didn't object. Instead, she trailed her fingertips over his chest.
“There's an old temple east of here. We need to get to the burial stones.”
He frowned. “What's there?”
Her eyes fluttered shut as she murmured, “A crypt. Tell Edvar to call Bane. He can lead you through the tunnels under the city, but you have to show him…”
Alarm flooded through him as her voice trailed off. He squeezed her gently. “Keep talking to me, Sabine. What do you want me to show him?”
She blinked open her eyes, but they were unfocused. Whatever she had done inside the councilman’s home had stolen all her strength. She swallowed. “I won’t be able to stay awake much longer. By blood and magic, I release you from the confines of your oath to share your knowledge of what happened tonight with Bane and Edvar.”
His brow furrowed. “You want me to tell them everything?”
“They’re both sworn to keep my secrets. Show Bane your mark. He won’t kill you.”
Malek fell silent as her remaining magic settled over him, shifting the confines of his oath so he could reveal her secrets to this other demon. Malek frowned, debating whether to abandon this entire charade. Sabine was exhausted, and he needed to get her to safety. It was tempting to steal her away from the city until she recovered, but she trusted these people. If he had any hope of convincing her to trust him too, he needed to play by her rules for now.
Keeping his voice gentle, he urged, “I'll take care of everything. Just rest.”
She nodded and leaned her head against his chest again. He felt her relax in his arms a few minutes later, and he knew she slept. He paused in the alleyway, breathing in her intoxicating scent, and battled his instincts. It was getting more difficult to stay in character the longer he remained in her presence. Now that he’d had a glimpse of the real Sabine, the one hidden underneath layers of intricate glamour, he needed to be even more careful. In his wildest dreams, he’d never expected to find a full-blooded Fae hiding within the city, much less one with her level of power.
Malek continued walking, staying in the shadows and off the streets as much as possible. Except for the maps he'd studied in preparation for his arrival, he didn't know the city very well. The temple she spoke of was deep within the oldest area of the city.
People hadn’t worshiped the old gods for centuries. As a testament to their abandonment, the surrounding area was mostly deserted. Moss and vines covered the cobblestone streets, reclaiming the territory. An uneasy chill went through him, and he walked silently, feeling eyes tracking his progress.
The gate surrounding the temple was falling in some areas and completely collapsed in others. A strange stillness filled the night as though even the spirits haunting this place held their breath. He paused and swept his gaze over the area. Someone was definitely watching, but he didn't see any sign of them.
Malek pushed open the gate and headed inside, toward the back of the temple where the burial stones should be located. The giant stone obelisks were scattered throughout the grounds, each one dedicated to a different god. At the rear of the crumbling temple stood two stone figures, a god and goddess, pressing their frozen hands together in a show of solidarity. Magic hung heavy in the air, and Malek ignored the oiliness that coated his skin as the ward around his neck tried to fend it off.
He took a few steps toward the statues and called out, “I know you’re there. I have a message for Edvar.”
After almost a full minute, a young boy, no more than seven or eight years in age, stepped out from behind a burial stone. In a wavering voice, he whispered, “She's not dead, is she? Did… did you hurt her?”
“No.” Malek studied the child a little closer. He was even younger than the boy Sabine had spoken with in the alley when they first met. “She's alive, but she needs help. Are you Edvar?”
The boy shook his head and motioned for him to follow. “No, but I'll take you to him.”
He scampered behind the burial stone again and moved aside some bushes. A tunnel descended into darkness.
“Stay close. Walk in my steps. Light doesn't work here, but I know the path.”
Malek arched a brow but followed the boy’s instructions. The moment he entered the tunnel, the strong chill of magic crossed over his skin. It was different from the source of power he felt from Sabine, but it was similar. Someone with Fae blood had placed wards here—powerful ones. Sabine's warning about needing an escort suddenly made sense. If a Fae had set traps here, no one would be able to pass without severe consequences. He doubted even the warding around his neck could protect him.
The boy stepped forward, and a trail of green illuminated his footsteps. Malek’s eyes widened in surprise. It was some sort of moss generating its own light. Someone, most likely Sabine, had shown the
child where he needed to walk. He had the suspicion anyone else who tried to infiltrate the crypt would find themselves hopelessly lost or trapped.
“What’s your name?” Malek asked, making sure his footsteps followed the exact same path of the boy.
“Toby,” he said without looking back over his shoulder. He stopped at a small alcove and traced a pattern over it with his finger.
The wall shimmered briefly and disappeared. Malek inhaled sharply at the realization it was simply an illusion. He’d swear Toby was human, but the child had manipulated the magical protection with no small measure of competence. Someone had spent a great deal of time teaching him. From the heavy scent of magic coating the air like a blanket, the entire area could be an illusion. He'd seen enough magic over the years to know one misstep or incorrect rune would likely mean the death of anyone who attempted to navigate this place without an escort.
Malek followed the boy down the corridor, stepping on the same moss-covered stones that continued through here. They turned down different paths enough times to convince Malek they were traveling in circles. But such was the nature of Fae magic. It wasn't a coincidence people could go missing for years after falling afoul of them.
He glanced down at Sabine still in his arms. With the strange green glow offering a bit of illumination, Sabine appeared even more Fae-like. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the memory of her true appearance. She was exquisite, and he understood why she’d hidden her appearance underneath layers of glamour. No one who ever saw her true appearance could ever mistake her as anything other than Fae.
Malek couldn't help but wonder how she'd learned about these tunnels and whether she'd been the one to teach Toby how to navigate them. It would explain the worry he'd seen in the child's eyes that something might be wrong with her. Sabine was shrouded in secrets and mystery as thick as the glamour that protected her.
To Kill a Fae Page 15