“Have you thought about what we talked about the other day?”
“Honestly? No. I plan to,” Danio added quickly. “Everything sort of went to hell and I haven’t had a chance. But I will. Think about it, that is.”
“That’s all I ask,” I said softly.
“Technically,” he chuckled, “that’s not all you’re asking.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t push the issue. I knew it was a lot to ask, after all, no matter how much I was starting to want him to agree.
Danio closed his eyes and rested his head back against the tiled wall. I wanted to offer him a pillow, but knew he’d decline. Instead I just watched him for a moment, trying to decide if the shower was helping. I could still feel the blood magic, stinging like cold water; I swear I could almost feel it moving through my veins if I paid attention, practically pulsing along with my heartbeat.
My eyes were drawn to the darkened veins crisscrossing his skin and I shuddered. I tried to look somewhere else and spotted the tattoo of my initials over his heart, part of one letter was almost obscured by a thick artery, almost as black as the ink itself. Someone, probably Jen, had turned on the bathroom light, so when I forced my eyes away from the blood magic remnants, they landed right on his abdomen. Even when it was just us, Danio somehow managed to keep his shirts on unless it was dark, rendering his scars invisible to my heat vision. As a result, his scars were a rare sight, even after thirty years.
His eyes were still closed and I couldn’t resist stealing a closer look at the dozens of little scars scattered from his ribs and peeking out from the low waistband of his pants. I hadn’t ever counted them all, not that he’d want me to, but I knew without being able to see that there were two on one thigh, three on the other, and seven on his lower back from shards that had gone straight through him. They sounded like the worst, but they were probably better than the rest of the shrapnel; the pieces that sliced him up from inside for weeks, preventing him from healing and making things even worse as they slowly rusted.
I hated knowing that the emotional scars from the ordeal would never truly heal, not like the physical injuries had. For a moment, the thought of it made me tear up, but I reminded myself that, against all odds, the internal injuries had finally healed completely. It was still recent enough that I sometimes honestly forgot.
I used to think the ridiculous amount of showers he took was just a water elemental thing, but ever since the injuries healed he had dropped abruptly to two, sometimes even just one, shower a day. I never realized he was showering to relieve the chronic pain and increase his natural healing speed; an endless race to keep the countless internal lacerations scarred closed as fast as they reopened and bled. Never again would I catch him when he let his guard down, stopping in the middle of whatever he was doing to catch his breath, one hand pressed against his stomach, face creased with pain – only when he thought nobody was watching, of course. No more waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of the shower, because he rolled wrong in his sleep. No more workouts ending with a rush to the bathroom to vomit blood before a long shower. And no more stubborn Danio insisting he was fine when I could tell he wasn’t.
He stretched a little and draped an arm up over his eyes. It was probably too bright, but he wasn’t the only one recovering from the blood magic and I really didn’t feel like I had the energy to get up. After stretching, he adjusted his legs and the movement drew my eyes back down toward his abdomen.
Danio’s scars were the main reason he preferred to keep his shirt on, but I knew they weren’t the only reason. A bout with near-fatal dehydration had reduced him to nothing but skin and bones; much to the surprise of everyone, even his doctors, he had made a complete recovery, except he was still a few pounds shy of a healthy weight. If the evidence of the experience was visible in his face, it was impossible to see beneath his siren-inherited features. It was almost hidden everywhere else, but if you knew what you were looking for it was there in the way his ribs were a little too prominent, the way his hipbones stuck out just a little too much. Oddly enough, the signs were visible in his abdominal muscles as well. At first glance the six-pack was well-defined, if you weren’t aware that his injuries prevented him from exercising the muscles enough to build them; the truth was they were visible because there simply wasn’t enough flesh to hide them.
Of course, anyone who caught a rare glimpse of the muscles typically didn’t see beyond the much more obvious issue: there were only five. At least, there had been five. I allowed myself just a bit of a smile. The sixth muscle had been severed by shrapnel, leaving behind a strange hollow and a nasty scar. Ever since he healed though, he had added some abdominal exercises into his routine and, to our surprise, the muscle had recently made an appearance. It was still quite a bit smaller than the rest, but the dent had slowly filled out and was now just starting to curve outward.
Before I could stop myself, I reached out and brushed my fingers across it gently. Danio jerked back in surprise.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” I said quickly, still unable to stop a smile.
Once the quick motion would have hurt, but he simply sprawled back out and his laugh was genuine instead of forced.
“Don’t tickle me! I’m trying to recover from an aneurysm here.”
“That’s not funny!” My annoyance turned into concern as I wondered if he was being serious. “Did it start bleeding again?” I asked in alarm.
“Nearly, but no. We got out of there in time. Really,” he added, noting my skeptical look.
I heaved a sigh and stretched my aching arm. “It’s weird,” I said softly, “how it targeted the same places we were attacked by blood magic before; where Donna got my arm and Fletcher hit you.”
“Yeah.”
I could still see Fletcher – longtime co-worker, a friend even – whirling to fire off a spell at Danio, the way Danio collapsed as blood ran from his nose and ears… I shuddered. “I can’t believe Morgan turned on us like that.”
“Malakas,” he spat.
We were both quiet for a moment. I wondered if he was thinking about just how close it had been. I tried to think of something else and, of course, ended up wondering how Mariana and Jen were doing. How fast could Mariana swim with Jen with her? Were they at the labyrinth yet? If anything happened to either of them…
At least, if nothing else, I knew Ember was safe. She’d likely be with Callie… A chuckle escaped me and Dani arched a curious eyebrow in my direction.
“My sister is going to kill me for worrying her like this,” I said.
“She’ll probably blame me and kill us both. I’m a terrible influence.”
I laughed darkly, knowing he was mocking my parents’ opinion of him more than Callie’s; my twin adored him. Although she wouldn’t be very happy with either of us for vanishing like this.
Assuming we got out of here alive.
“I love you,” I blurted, trying to think of anything but the perilous situation we had landed in.
“I love you too,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze. “I’m also feeling much better, if you want to move somewhere more comfortable.”
Truthfully, I would have been happier to keep him in the water, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to argue for long. Then again, as tough as he liked to act, I knew he wasn’t stupid enough to get out of the water if he really needed it. Nevertheless, he accepted my help as he stood.
He didn’t bother drying off and we headed back into the bedroom to find Thomas pacing back and forth while TS watched, ears flattened nervously against his head. TS whined softly at us and Danio gave him a few affectionate pats on the side.
“They’ll be fine,” Danio said confidently.
“I know,” Thomas said, pacing faster. “I know.”
I wasn’t sure if I believed either of them, but I hoped they were right.
Chapter Six
Jen
Nobody even looked twice as Mariana and I casually walked down the path to the
dock party. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until we started to sneak by the buffet table - people around us were stopping to load up plates, so I decided a few extra seconds to get some food wouldn’t hurt; I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to eat again and it would help us blend in.
After our plates were loaded we drifted along the outside of the crowd and down onto the beach. There were less people here and it was dark enough that it was hard to see faces easily. It made it harder to watch out for Taylor, but it would be harder for her to see me too. There were a bunch of tables and stools out in the water itself, most had people sitting around them, but a couple were empty. As luck would have it, there was a free table farther away from the rest, near the part of the dock that was roped off and empty.
Mariana and I waded out to it and set our plates down. The water wasn’t as cold as I expected, in fact it was quite nice. I wished we were here on vacation instead of on a mission to kill an arcanist; it would have been fun to sit at the table with everyone, water gently lapping around our knees. We could easily have brought the table even closer to the dock or the shore so that Charlie could join us. It could have been so fun, instead Mariana and I wolfed down our food, while keeping a wary eye on everyone near us; nobody even glanced in our direction.
A label on the plates said they were made out of some food production waste-product that fish could eat, so we just left them on the table and slowly slipped away through the water, ducking down low. Still, nobody looked in our direction. Mariana went completely under, while I stayed crouched, just barely keeping my nose above the surface, and sort of half-paddled, half-crawled through the shallow water to the dock, planning to stay as close to shore as possible to avoid the blood magic in deeper water. Once underneath, hidden in the shadows, I breathed a sigh of relief. I deliberately hadn’t used my night vision spell yet, wanting to be able to gauge just what the non-magics could see; I was confident we were practically invisible, so I pulled out my wand and quickly cast it.
Everything was bathed in a green-tinged light, bright enough to see easily, making it seem more like it was dusk rather than closer to midnight.
We nodded to each other and headed along under the dock. The water barely went up over my knees. Thanks to a combination of the clear water and my night vision, I could see right down to the bottom and took advantage to avoid stepping on rocks and sharp shells.
Soon, we were right under the party. The dock shook and thudded above us as voices and laughter echoed all around. I listened carefully as we moved along, hoping – and not hoping – to overhear something that sounded like blood casters or someone talking about me and making sure nobody commented on the people sneaking beneath them.
Our luck held, by the time the dock started to slope down, the people above us had thinned out and seemed to be gone. Crouching down, I slipped out into the water and turned to peek over the edge of the dock. Empty. The nearest people were a good twenty feet away, all facing the opposite direction.
We were afraid to go too far out and encounter the blood magic, so we went just deep enough for Mariana to shift into her mermaid form and swim.
“It’s a little bumpier than with a water elemental,” she warned as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders like I was getting a piggy-back ride.
“I’ll be fine,” I said.
She dove forward a little and began to swim. It was quite different from the smooth way a water elemental cut through the water; she didn’t use her tail as often as I would have expected, but each long glide ended with a jolt as she lashed the water with her tail, propelling us forward again. We were as low in the water as we could get and I had to keep my head turned to the side so I didn’t swallow water.
Before we got to the labyrinth doorway, Mariana slowed.
“Can you hop off for a second?” she asked.
I slid down into the water, to my surprise, it was still shallow enough to stand, although a high swell would hit me right in the face.
“What is it?” I whispered, casting a nervous look over the beach. To my relief, it was empty and we were farther from the dock than I expected. Nobody would see us way out here.
“There are some really big fish here and I haven’t eaten in a couple of days. I’ll be quick.”
I nodded and moved back a bit to give her room. Better to eat now while it was safe: we didn’t know what would happen once we reached the labyrinth.
Mariana dropped down under the water. I watched her with a thrill of excitement, as I realized that I was about to see a mermaid go fishing. I knew how they did it, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to see it before. It would be a nice, brief, reprieve from the stress of what we were about to do. To my delight, the water was still nice and clear.
I watched as a large fish swam right under Mariana. She slowly stretched out her hands until the fish was between them. I knew it was coming, but still jumped in surprise as little bolts of electricity arced between her hands and seemingly through the fish. The water around her lit up for a brief moment, almost too bright for my night vision. I wondered if electric eels lit up, too, or if it was just mermaids. The fish almost immediately began to float toward the surface. Mariana grabbed it, then turned away from me to eat it.
“Okay,” she said. “Sorry, let’s go.”
“No problem.”
In just a couple more minutes, she slowed again.
“There it is,” she breathed, staying low in the water.
I slid off her back and looked toward the beach. Sure enough, there was a familiar section of dunes that was arched and slightly recessed. But instead of the dark cave I was hoping to see, it looked like solid sand. My heart sank.
“The doorway isn’t there.”
“Maybe not,” Mariana whispered. “But labyrinths are tricky and they do want it to be hidden. There’s no way to tell if the doorway is open or not unless you go right up to it. You could walk right though the sand and in.”
I took a deep breath and carefully studied the beach and the dunes. No movement. Nothing. There was nobody there.
Mariana suddenly hugged me. “Be careful!”
“I will,” I said, hugging her back.
“If something happens, run to the water as fast as you can and just dive in. I’ll grab you and swim like hell. Remember to hold your breath!”
“Got it!”
I stayed as deep in the water as I could, until I was forced to get out, then sprinted up the beach to the dunes. It still looked like a solid wall of sand. I glanced behind me for Mariana, who was nowhere to be seen. With a deep breath, I turned and pressed my hands against the sand, praying they’d sink in and I’d be able to walk through.
The dunes were solid.
No! I pushed harder, then pounded against it. Sand ground against my fist and went flying, but the dunes were unchanging.
“It’s no use, the doorway is sealed,” came Taylor’s voice from behind me.
I whirled, wand ready. To my surprise, she had both hands raised with no wand in sight.
“Wait, please!” she cried. “I just want to talk!”
I hesitated.
“I’m like you,” Taylor continued. “Please, will you lower your wand?”
Like me? What did that mean?
“How do I know you won’t blast me with blood magic the second I do?” I asked, making sure she knew that I knew what she was. I hoped that, maybe, by specifically saying blood magic it would imply that I wasn’t worried about any other magic she could throw at me. She was between me and the water, so I needed every advantage I could get.
Taylor shrugged. “We don’t sacrifice people here very often, I used it up.”
“Used it up?” I echoed. I thought of when Fletcher cast a blood magic spell against TS, but nothing happened. As far as I could remember, he hadn’t tried again after that. All of Taylor’s words sank in and I realized what she was getting at. “You… you have to sacrifice people more than once?” I asked in horror.
She took a step back, eyes
wide in alarm. One hand reached back like she was ready to grab her wand. “You’re not a blood witch?!”
Now I was even more confused. “That’s a bad thing?” I cried, confused.
“I thought… I thought you were one of the ones who escaped.”
“Escaped?” I asked. I lowered my wand, just a little. “You said that you’re like me. Did you escape from somewhere?”
“I want to,” Taylor said. “From here. This was… this was a mistake. They say Alaria kills any initiates who want to leave. But some have escaped the island. She thinks you’re one of them who came back to stop her or steal her secrets. But you’re not even a blood witch. What are you doing here?”
I didn’t want to tell her the truth, but we weren’t going to get anywhere if we just kept going back and forth with questions. Although I supposed I didn’t have to reveal the full extent of my involvement or mention MES.
“My friend went missing,” I said. “I was searching for him and ended up in the labyrinth.”
“But you got through,” she said suspiciously. “Alaria told us the minotaur stops everyone except for blood casters. Not that I trust her word… And you killed Donna.”
“The minotaur let me go… if I promised to kill Alaria,” I confessed. If Taylor really did want to escape…
She looked surprised by that, then her eyes narrowed at me. “Then why are you trying to leave?”
“To get help. I thought the minotaur was going to let me out the doorway I came in, not dump me on an island with Alaria. I can’t fight her alone.”
“No, you can’t,” she said flatly. “Nobody can, she’s too powerful.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. We stood in silence for a moment and I thought of my earlier realization. “So, you have to sacrifice… multiple people?”
“Yes,” Taylor said softly. “Each sacrifice yields only a finite amount of power. Once it’s used up, there must be another sacrifice to keep using blood magic.”
“That’s… How can…”
Rise of the Arcanist Series: Books 1 - 6 Page 36