Trimarked

by C. K. Sorens

  Had it worked? Had a flicker of the medallion been enough to save her? Or had his hesitation over Branna’s pain caused him to fail?

  “Tell me,” he ordered again. Branna shook her head, her hands raised in his peripheral.

  “It’s too bright. I can’t see.”

  “Ask the spirits! Is there one more among them?” Uncontrolled breath, he demanded Branna tell him if the hybrid girl lived in the barrier, or if she’d perished in the flood of power.

  “They’re gone, they don’t like it here—”

  “Nicu!” Devi called out over the battles of man and nature. Her glare accused, her body stiff with outrage. “Get over here!”

  He would have to find out for himself. Nicu’s breath failed him.

  Nicu’s steps took him from natural earth to solid asphalt. He walked as if the events were not urgent, as if he had time. He reached the double yellow line at the center, the very marker that led to Ember’s form.

  Devi grasped his wrist and directed him forward, pulled him in, thrust him into proximity.

  “Nicu,” Chase called in warning. Edan ran past, took the blow Brandt had meant for Nicu.

  Devi jabbed Nicu’s chest, insisting on his attention as if they hadn’t been in danger of attack, as if what happened before them was more urgent.

  And at that moment, Nicu understood.

  Ember was alive.

  Nicu breathed.

  “You have to free her,” Devi said.

  “How?”

  “Both of your tattoos are laced with Veil energy. For now, I assume that isn’t the same for all Fae Ink. To be safe, it has to be you.”

  Nicu raised a hand. Devi slammed it back. “You can’t touch that power,” she snarled. “It’s raw, truly elemental.”

  Nicu curled his lip. There was no need to give an order, Devi far ahead of him.

  “Use your tattoos. They are made from the same Ink, but hers has a different magical structure.”

  “Hers is binding.”

  “Apply the Life in your Ink to free hers. The Veil energy should also be freed, and allow her to get out.”

  Nicu recoiled, denial thrust into his core. Unbind the Trimarked Child. He thought of her hands sparking with magic, power he’d disbursed into the world.

  “Even if that were possible, this would be her norm,” he snarled. “She cannot control herself.”

  “You haven’t given her a chance.”

  Devi didn’t understand. She hadn’t seen Ember flare, or the fear and denial in the hybrid girl’s eyes. A Witch could not comprehend that some magic was best left untapped. Magic he had almost wielded himself, he was reminded, as the skin at his neck itched against the weight of the Trimark.

  He glanced at Branna, slumped onto the ground. He would not try the medallion again, not until he understood her connection to it. Behind him, Edan had Brandt well secured. Chase and Aaron stood by just in case. They were not Nicu’s concern.

  Nicu studied Ember, closed his eyes when he sensed the next flash ready to break. His tattoos twitched. He’d worked far too hard to lose the girl now.

  Devi might be right, though not in the way she expected.

  Nicu’s fingers flexed. He stepped closer to Ember, brushed off Devi’s attempt to restrain him.

  She did not understand.

  Nicu directed power and order. Ink drew forward on his body, crawled down his arms, hair stood on end in response to the movement. Tattoos collected into his palms, saturated the skin over his torso and down the front of his thighs, ready to receive.

  This was what made him different. Nicu could not call on magic itself. He had to steal it.

  He would take hers.

  Ember hung suspended in the barrier, but his height was greater. His feet remained on the ground as Nicu fit his chest to Ember’s back, lowered his hands upon hers, pressed his cheek to her temple, but it was not her he touched. The power of the Veil had become a shell over and around her, absorbed her form as if she were another stretch of the invisible shield.

  Yours is mine.

  His tattoos swirled at the contact, reached for the resonating pull of barrier energy mixed with Ink in the hybrid girl’s body. The Ink dipped onto the smooth energy with tiny spikes of their own power, drunk and full within seconds. Ember’s essence pushed out the particles of magic like beads of sweat. Nicu gripped them with force of will through the channel of his Living Ink and urged the power to leave her, to move along, nourish the barrier, bolster the storm.

  His fingertips brushed hers. He transferred more out and away. The soft strands of her hair caressed his cheek. The proof of her life added strength to his beating heart.

  “Nicu!”

  Edan’s deep shout commanded Nicu’s focus outward for an instant, enough loss of focus for the shell to move from around them to between them. It pushed him away and took Ember with it. The wind carried the sound of a freight train. Thunder quaked the earth.

  He did not have time for this.

  Nicu compelled the energy with a wave of command until their bodies were once more in the same space. He braced himself against the interior surface, demanded his power seize Ember, and keep the energies from dividing them.

  Distance grew in front of Ember. Every physical and metaphysical muscle strained within Nicu’s being. He wrapped an arm around her ribs once the gap was large enough, curved his back against the cocoon.

  The surrounding power did not have strands to grab or weave. It did not have tiny pieces to collect in his palms. This energy was fluid, but it resisted movement.

  A deep breath and he trembled, weakened. The energy oozed and pushed into the fissures between their bodies, pulling Ember away from him.

  “No.” The small sound conveyed the strength of his resolve, added vitality to his form, enforced his command of magic and imposed his will.

  Power surged into his tattoos. Skin pulled as if pinched by thousands of tiny vices. The Living Ink responded to his commands, ripped from his pores to reach beyond, to enfold Ember’s energy despite the overwhelming efficiency of the barrier. The Ink floated between them, found her exposed flesh, and gripped.

  Nicu drove their bodies out, twisted within the gap until he beat the power back, until it was his strength surrounding her body, freeing them both from the fusion.

  Wintery rain steamed off him. His chest heaved in the fresh air. Ink settled back into place. He cradled Ember on his lap, his torso bent over to protect her from the rain as his spirit cracked at the edges, all because of this small girl, this hybrid child.

  Because now he had moved past understanding. Now he knew. Beyond doubt, Ember Lee had the power to unmake the world.

  30

  Ember

  Wet drops stained Ember’s face.

  Was someone crying? Her eyes cracked open to the grey sky, then she relaxed and closed them again. Just the rain.

  “Ember, wake up.”

  Nicu. A heavy sigh opened her chest. Was he here for her? Time to endure the Fae for being born unlucky.

  Yet, she could not move her body, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to.

  “If you would let me closer, I could heal her.” Devi enunciated with feigned restraint.

  Had the Fae already found her? Maybe she’d forgotten who hurt her —Brandt.

  Ember gasped, struggled against the arms that held her, needed to escape the press of him. The pitted asphalt bit into her palms. She scrambled on hands and knees to turn and confront her captor.

  Golden eyes stared at her with heavy lids. He released her, so not Brandt. Rain blurred her vision. She blinked it clear, patted soaked strands of hair off her face and looked again.

  Nicu.

  Someone touched her shoulder. She jerked aside, flinched from the bright curls before she recognized Devi.

  Then the worst person of all came into view. Wrapped in a sodden, knit-stretched afghan, her mom ran over the mud, crashed into the puddles of the road.

  “You’re alive,” Susan b
reathed, hands shook as she reached toward her daughter.

  “How did you get here?” Ember asked. “Why aren’t you home?”

  As Ember watched, relief turned to anger. The wet of tears became a gloss. “You chose him, I see. You chose magic. Fine. Fine. Fine! Do not come back.” Vitriol melted into a sob and Susan twisted her body away, covered her face with a skeletal hand. “Please, Ember, do not bring that into my house.”

  “Mom.” Ember reached, wanting to explain she hadn’t done it on purpose, to swear she’d tried to stay away from the magic, but Susan lurched to her feet and shook her head. Ember lost her voice and her heart broke. She could only watch as her mother withdrew, distantly registered when Nicu sent Branna to follow.

  Devi’s warm magic tingled across Branna’s skin. She shuddered and pushed the Witch’s hand away.

  “Too much.”

  “It’s a healing spell. It barely takes any power.”

  “Leave her be. She is still overwhelmed with energy.” Nicu stood over them. Ember looked up. The rain softened. His face betrayed nothing. Ember squirmed, not familiar with a lack of reaction. Anger, frustration, commanding, yes. A placid Nicu was new. She didn’t know what it meant.

  A different argument tugged at the edge of Ember’s attention. Partial relief scattered through her when she saw Brandt on his knees with a length of rope around his wrists. Chase and Aaron pinned him.

  “Are you sure you got him this time?” Edan’s tone was dry. Aaron nodded, his eyes as flat as Nicu’s, though his lips bent downward, his face turned away. So he’d gone for help after all, made the choice Brandt didn’t think he would.

  Edan left the three behind and approached Nicu. “Someone let him in.”

  “And gave him a knife,” Devi said. “One I have not found.” Her glare held Nicu responsible for the loss. He ignored her and answered Edan.

  “Your spies are still silent.”

  Edan nodded, a flicker of concern softened his mouth.

  “If this intruder had gotten to them, or if there are more outsiders working toward infiltrating Trifecta, we should know,” Edan warned.

  Nicu looked from the barrier to Devi. “You will have the knife, if found,” he assured her. “Do you want Brandt?”

  Devi’s eyes lit devilishly onto the human. “Yes, but Nicu, why such a wonderful gift?”

  “Silence.”

  Thanks to her lesson, Ember recognized the negotiation. Devi sauntered over for her prize, the terms agreed upon.

  “Do you mind helping with transportation?” she asked Chase and Aaron.

  “Just you wait, just you wait until the wizard gets here--” Brandt yelled as Chase and Aaron hauled him up to his feet. Devi twisted her wrist through the air, raised two fingers to his mouth, and his voice fell silent. Brandt struggled against the hands that gripped him, tried to kick his legs only to be dragged. His vicious snarl thrust toward Ember and Chase punched him in the side of the head to get him to look away.

  With everyone else gone, Nicu turned to Ember, parted his lips, but was stopped when Edan placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Her agreement is with me.” Ember’s heart stuttered. Humans would call that a lie. Fae call it a chosen truth. Regardless, it worked. Nicu stepped aside to let Edan pass.

  “Ready?” Edan asked.

  “Is it safe?” Would she survive this time? Would the barrier try to hold her again? Would she explode in the end like she’d thought happened at the beginning when Brandt’s anger had almost been her death? Would Nicu take her to the Fae after, or did her bargain protect her?

  “It is safe, little hybrid,” Nicu said. Whatever it meant, he was her constant. She believed him so completely that belief spread to her unasked questions.

  With a shudder, Ember pushed herself to her feet. Trembling fingers reached forward to tap tap tap.

  “Now,” she whispered, feeling the smooth opening appear before her. The breeze in her face held an unfamiliar taste and brought a stimulating sensation to the depths of her lungs.

  Edan disappeared from view before the barrier closed. Ember and Nicu stood side by side in the rain’s soft whisper.

  Without looking at him, she walked up the hill. He, of course, walked with her anyway.

  “You cannot return home.”

  Ember’s huff might be called a laugh, except it held no humor or heart. “Yeah. I got that part.”

  “It will not be safe for you.”

  “Now this is starting to sound familiar.” Blood drained from her cheeks.

  “I’m—”

  “No. No apologies and absolutely no more promises.”

  Nicu paused.

  “No. We’ve had enough of those,” he murmured.

  They’d had all of one, so exactly the correct assessment.

  “Goodnight, Nicu.” A dismissal. She expected him to argue. Instead, he became another shadow. Of course, Ember knew shadows never really went away.

  Ember walked along the road, arms wrapped around to steady the wet chill, tired and numb. It wasn’t until her feet crunched across gravel that she realized what she’d done.

  She’d gone home. She wondered if she could slip in, if Susan’s vacillating mind might have forgotten she’d kicked her daughter out.

  Except there was a blanket wrapped into a bag in the grass outside the front door. She stared at it, sucked in the cold and lifted her face to the rain.

  “Leave it.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in a whisper, not wanting an audience while she discovered how deep her despair would drill into her bones.

  “I dropped Aaron off, saw you on the road.”

  Aaron, her unexpected... unexpected. “How is he?”

  “He’s fine. He about collapsed at the Circle.”

  “What?” She gasped.

  “The Witches gave him some concoction that will make him sleep for 24 hours while he replenishes his blood, then he’ll wake up, charming as ever. What about you?”

  Ember shrugged, stared at the wet mess on the lawn.

  “Did you come to get some stuff?” Chase’s voice was delicate in her ears, on her spirit. She turned with caution, though she had no words in the face of his soft tone.

  “I’ll get you more,” he said. “Something less.… wet.”

  The laugh that punched through her broke through the pain, brought a sliver of light into her thoughts.

  “And what will that cost me?” Her lips twisted with the familiar comfort of the question.

  “You were the only one who demanded a price.” Ember startled, her eyes wide on Chase, his hair plastered to his cheeks by the rain. He looped his arms around her shoulders.

  It was a hug.

  It was amazing.

  Ember leaned in, shuddered with relief, shivered in the cold.

  “Come on.” He shifted to her side and kept his arm draped over her shoulders. “No reason to survive a magical storm only to die in a real one.”

  Epilogue

  Brandt

  Brandt’s head hurt. The damn gnomes had done a number on him while they dragged him to some weird chain-link fence cell, one in a line against an outer wall of a warehouse they’d stolen after the Fade. He’d shaken the door half-heartedly. He didn’t have enough energy to escape.

  His body felt starved for air, but he knew better than to draw in a deep breath after an earlier try nearly had him blacking out. That damn Halfer was almost as tough as Brandt’s old man. The gnomes had promised a healer. They had left the timeline to the imagination. Whatever. He could handle this. He’d had cracked ribs before and they were a bitch, but they weren’t life threatening. For now, he needed to rest and bide his time.

  Clipped footsteps filled the concrete expanse of the warehouse. Brandt grunted at the tall man topped with a bowed hat. A chuckle had him hissing in pain a moment later.

  “Damn, it’s good to see you,” he told the Wizard who’d helped him once before. The weird guy remained silent as he approached the enclosur
e. He’d buttoned his long coat up this time, hands rested in his pockets as he looked at the crumpled mess Brandt made. “You’re here to get me out, right?”

  Tristan pulled a hand out of his pocket, waved it across his body with a few muttered words, and the cage door sprang open. Brandt tried to stand, groaned with the pain.

  “No need to get up.” Tristan stepped into the cell and looked down his sharp nose. “That was quite a scene back there.”

  “So you were there? But didn’t come?” Brandt swallowed a painful lump as the Wizard simply stared. Maybe the guy hadn’t intervened in case Brandt’s plan worked, but then things got too crazy. Brandt didn’t have the energy to fight about it right now, though. Once out and healed up a bit, they two could have a talk about setting some rules in this partnership. “Yeah, sorry about that. That bitch wouldn’t break the barrier.”

  Tristan angled forward, his coat tight where it caught at the bend of his hips. It was the unnatural curl of his usually straight lips that sent a cold shaft of fear through Brandt’s chest.

  “Of course not, stupid boy.”

  Thin talon-like fingers gripped deep into Brandt’s arms, lifted his broken body. Brandt cried out into the warehouse, the echo cut short, lost between one of the Wizard’s steps and another.

  Brandt dropped onto the forest floor. He scrambled back, the pain in his bones nothing compared to the panic that pulsed through his blood.

  “Y-you got me out?” Yet the menacing form above him did not seem in the mood to assist. “So—so you still need my help? For your big plan.”

  “I wondered if you paid attention. But no, you have played your part. Well, most of it.”

  Those long fingers slipped open the top few buttons of his heavy coat, dipped into a breast pocket within and pulled out a small, closed pinecone. Brandt squinted, his fear stuttered under his confusion.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your human blood is unique, tied to this land. Born in Trifecta after the Fade, trapped by the convergence, mingled every day of your life with the magics of human, Witch and Fae. Power that allowed me to carve our way through the barrier, if you recall.”