Everspell: The Kindred

by Donna Grant

  “It is.” Brom noted that even the double swords she carried were gone. He wasn’t sure how clothes and some weapons disappeared, but others didn’t. “Where are your swords?”

  Confusion caused her brows to draw together. “You don’t have to pretend to care. You can leave now. I won’t tell anyone what you did.”

  “Your swords,” he pressed.

  She sighed loudly. “I didn’t need them or my clothes. That’s all I have to do, think what I need and what I don’t, and it melts away to reveal this.”

  “That’s amazing,” Brom said as he looked down her naked body. He knew the curves well, had held them in his hands and dreamed about them every night since. The only difference was the skin. “What you can do is so unique that I have no words for it. You shouldna hide that. You should embrace it.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you had walked in my shoes. I belong to two worlds, yet I can’t live in either.”

  Brom quirked a brow. “Seems like you fit quite well in both. You get to decide what you want, lass.”

  “That was taken from me.”

  He looked pointedly at the sword in her right hand. “You carry a bone of the First Witch. You can decide any bloody thing you want.”

  Her lips softened. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I’d love to discuss it more with you. Shall we return to the Gira camp?”

  Runa shook her head. “I want so very many things. Mainly, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to watch every sunset and sunrise in your arms, fall asleep next to you each night, and wake up by your side in the morning. I want to laugh with you and argue and everything in between. I want…you.”

  “We can have that.”

  “Nay, we can’t. I can end Sybbyl. She and the other witches will never see me coming. I can take her out quietly.”

  Brom grasped Runa’s arms, feeling the prick of the bark on his palm. “If you manage to kill Sybbyl, the rest of the witches will slaughter you. You’ll never get out of the Grove alive.”

  “At least Sybbyl will be gone. Maybe I’ll get lucky and get the staff. I’ll have two bones, and the witches will have to do a lot more to kill me.”

  “You doona have magic,” he told her, worry settling in his bones like stones. “The bones magnify magic.”

  Runa smiled softly at him. “I’m part Gira, and that means I have magic.”

  “You can shift from one form to the other, which I admit is rare and spectacular. That doesna mean you can do spells. The sword may help you shift quicker, but it’ll do nothing to stop the witches’ magic.”

  Her chin lifted. “I guess I’ll find out.”

  “Let me come with you.”

  Runa sighed. “We’ve been over this.”

  “I’m coming,” he told her as he released her arms. “You can knock me out again, but I’ll still get up and follow you. The only way you’ll stop me is if you take my life. Or…we can do this together. I’ve lived without you, and I doona like it. I want you in my life, and if I can’t have you, then I’m as lost as I was before. If you die, then I’ll die right beside you. We can go into the next life together.”

  She watched him for a long moment before she let the bark fade away, and her human form return. Runa held out her hand. The moment he grasped it, she wrapped her fingers around his. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “We make a good team. You went out on your own, and look where it got you,” he said with a teasing grin.

  “You do make a good point.”

  They shared a smile before he pulled her against him for a frantic kiss. He wished he could use the spell he’d learned from Malene to jump them to Blackglade, but Runa would never forgive him. As much as Brom wanted to protect her, he realized that he couldn’t. All he could do was respect Runa’s decisions and stand by her, no matter what.

  He ended the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “We have more nights ahead of us. More sunrises and sunsets. Years and years of laughter and arguments. I know that with all my heart.”

  “I love you,” she whispered and put her hand on his cheek.

  “And I love you.”

  “Well, isn’t that nice?” a voice said from somewhere around them.

  Brom jerked his head around as he searched for the woman.

  “Sybbyl,” Runa whispered.

  Brom spotted what looked like black smoke moving against the snow. More and more smoke gathered, rising until a woman walked from it holding a staff. She wore a black gown that molded to her frame. Her face was beautiful, but the evil inside her overshadowed that. Atop her head of golden hair was a black crown.

  Sybbyl wore a self-satisfied smile, like a cat who had gotten into the cream. Her blue eyes moved to Brom. “You’re a handsome one.”

  “This is between you and me,” Runa said.

  Brom shot Runa an angry look, which caused Sybbyl to laugh. Brom wanted to punch her, but he decided to let the Coven leader believe that he wasn’t a threat.

  “Protecting your man?” Sybbyl stated with a shake of her head. “Aren’t men supposed to protect women? They rarely do, you know. We’ve always been the ones who did everything.”

  Runa rolled her eyes. “Do you want to fight or talk?”

  “So eager to die, I see.” Sybbyl tsked. “Hand me the sword, and I’ll allow the two of you to walk away and have the life you so desperately want.”

  “Do you really believe I’m foolish enough to think you’d allow that?” Runa demanded.

  Sybbyl flattened her lips. “I gave you a chance. Don’t forget that when you’re gasping for breath.”

  Runa lifted the sword. “I’m queen of the Gira. Do you really think it’ll be me who dies?”

  “Too bad you’re on the wrong side. We could’ve made a good team. We still can,” Sybbyl said.

  Brom waited for Runa to tell the witch to shut up. Or attack. Instead, she hesitated as if she were contemplating the witch’s words. He stared at Runa, silently urging her to ignore Sybbyl.

  “How?” Runa asked.

  He blinked, unable to believe that Runa was taking this road. She had wanted to go after Sybbyl herself. As a matter of fact, Runa had been hell-bent on doing just that. Why was she thinking of changing her mind?

  Sybbyl’s smile returned. “You’re smarter than I gave you credit for. You have a bone. I have a bone. The Gira are extremely useful in battle. They make quick work of enemies while having fun as they do it. You join me, and we can use both bones to take over the world and put humans without magic in their place. Witches, Gira, and anyone with magic can move about freely.”

  “And the others?” Runa asked.

  Sybbyl glanced at Brom. “You mean those without magic? They’ll live in fear, hiding so those like us won’t find them.”

  “The Gira told me you want the Varroki.”

  “Oh, I do,” Sybbyl said with a nod of her head. “They have warlocks, something we don’t have. I know nymphs have males, but the magic we have only goes to women, except for the Varroki. We’ll get the Varroki men to ensure that we witches continue on forever.”

  Runa nodded slowly. “All while making yourselves more powerful. Is that when you’ll try to wipe out the Gira?”

  “I would never do such a thing. Not if you’re an ally. If you and the nymphs decide to stand against me, then I’ll dispatch you with the rest.”

  Brom fisted his hands, fury burning hot through him.

  “That is a fair offer,” Runa said. “I’d be a fool to toss it aside.”

  “Runa,” Brom said in dismay.

  Sybbyl laughed. “And this is why I think only women should rule.”

  “Then you’ve never met the right man,” Runa stated.

  Disappointment filled the witch’s face. “So, that’s how it is?”

  “That’s how it is.”

  Brom barely had time to digest Runa’s words before Sybbyl sent out a blast of magic, black tendrils filling the air. Runa lifted the sword and blocked the
blow, as well as a second and third volley. Sybbyl moved quicker and quicker. A startled cry shot from Runa when she didn’t move fast enough to stop the magic, and it cut through her.

  26

  The pain was…unbearable. Runa couldn’t hold onto the sword. It fell from her numb fingers, landing in the snow. She watched it happen in slow motion, trying with all her might to hold onto the weapon.

  Her mind demanded that she move, but her body couldn’t respond. Agony exploded inside her again and didn’t let up. She heard laughter in the distance that sounded like Sybbyl. Runa tried to look for Brom, but her eyes were growing hazy. Suddenly, the world careened, and she was falling until strong arms she knew well caught her.

  “I’ve got you,” Brom whispered.

  She smiled, or she tried to, anyway. Runa wasn’t sure about anything but the unending torture of pain. If she had listened to Brom, they would be back at the loch with the others. She could’ve lain in his arms, reveling in the love that had found them so unexpectedly in a land ravaged by magic and power.

  Runa had been sure that going after Sybbyl was the right thing to do. Maybe it had been, had she not showed Brom where she was. Perhaps had she let him face the witches she could’ve found Sybbyl and ended the witch’s life.

  So very many maybes. But she knew only one thing for sure. Runa was going to die. There was no doubt about it in her mind. She didn’t know what kind of magic Sybbyl had, but whatever it was, it was powerful. Runa supposed it could be the staff. Though, there was no use even considering that now. What was done was done.

  Brom had tried to warn her that she didn’t have the magic needed to go up against Sybbyl. She should’ve listened to him instead of thinking she always knew what was right. Time and again, it had been proven that she should take others’ advice, and she had repeatedly ignored that.

  Now, she was paying the price.

  “Doona die on me,” Brom demanded near her ear. “Stay with me, Runa.”

  She wanted nothing more than to be with him. She wanted that more than anything else in the world. Brom was…everything. He was her present and the future. He was love and acceptance. He was hers.

  Runa tried to call his name but only managed to cough. Something trickled from her mouth. She swallowed and tasted blood. She raised her eyes, searching for Brom’s face, but all she found was darkness. It surrounded her. That’s what was eating her from the inside out—darkness and evil.

  Brom wiped the blood from Runa’s mouth as fury and fear mingled inside him. It was a potent and compelling mixture. When Runa went limp in his arms, there was only one thing he wanted to do. He gently lay Runa’s head upon the snow and got to his feet to face Sybbyl.

  She held the staff in one hand and the sword in the other, a confident smile upon her lips. “There’s no saving her.”

  He let the anger and horror at what had happened to Runa grow within him. He embraced it, welcomed it. The last several years of his life had been lived in solitude, something he had accepted would be his path. Then he’d met Runa and got a glimpse of something wonderful within his grasp.

  And Sybbyl had taken it from him a blink.

  She would pay.

  The witch raised a blond brow. “Do you really think you can stand against me? In case you didn’t know, I’m a witch. With two bones of the First Witch. That means I can kill you with a thought.”

  Brom simply stared at her. When he felt his flesh begin to heat, he looked down to see sparks jumping off his clothes. He took a deep breath and let his power rush through him. The bone beneath his tunic amplified his magic and quickly doused the flames.

  “Who are you?” Sybbyl demanded, unease contorting her features.

  Brom sneered at her. “How does it feel to know that you’re no’ as powerful as you believe?”

  “You’re a human without magic.”

  “Am I?” he asked. “I could be, but should you make such assumptions?”

  Her gaze narrowed on him. “You stopped my magic.”

  “I’m going to do a lot more than that. I’m going to stop you—once and for all.”

  Blue eyes widened. “You’re a Varroki.”

  “And you just killed the woman I love. I’m going to make you pay for that,” he stated.

  Sybbyl lifted the sword and the staff. “You’d be a fool to go up against me. I have two of the bones.”

  “You might have them, but you doona wield them.”

  “Of course, I do,” she replied acerbically. “If I have them, they’re under my control.”

  He snorted, shaking his head at the foolishness of others. “You think because you have them that you control them? That just shows how little you know of the bones and what they’re capable of. Have you no’ wondered why the Blood Skull made sure no Coven witch ever got to it? The skull decided that, no one else.”

  “I know I got the staff and the sword.” Sybbyl shot him a flat look. “You can’t say that.”

  Brom released a long breath. “Do you know why you’re going to fail? Because you assume you know more than you do. You think you’re smarter than others. That your magic is more powerful.”

  “It is.”

  He shrugged indifferently. “Perhaps, but the fact that you fail at grasping knowledge and basic facts tells me you willna see the dawn.”

  Sybbyl looked up. “The sky is already beginning to lighten. I think you’re only talking because you know your time to die is now.”

  “Have you heard Trea’s voice in your head?”

  Sybbyl froze. “What?”

  He smiled because he knew the witch had. “Tell me, does she give you encouragement or help guide you?”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I take that to mean she doesna. If she’s making your life hell, you should ask yourself why. You may have one of her bones—two now—but she doesna want it in your control. And she’s going to do everything she can to ensure it doesna stay there.”

  Sybbyl gave him a scathing look. “And I suppose you’re going to take them from me.”

  “You’re damned right, I am.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, he sent magic at her. Sybbyl deflected it, but he wasted no time sending a second wave that hit its mark. The witch cried out in pain and doubled over. Brom didn’t hide his smile when he saw the torn material near her waist and the dark stain of blood on her gown.

  “You’ll pay for that,” Sybbyl stated angrily.

  Brom prepared himself for her strike. He dodged three hits of magic, throwing his own out in between. But Sybbyl’s fourth strike hit him squarely in the chest and sent him flying backwards through the air, head over heels. He slammed into a tree and was left gasping as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

  He tried to hold onto the tree and get his bearings, to figure out how far he was from the ground, but his hands wouldn’t work. Air whooshed around his face as he plummeted to the frozen earth. The thick snow did nothing to soften his landing.

  Brom knew he had to get on his feet and face his opponent before she struck again, but no matter how many times he demanded that his body work, it refused. It felt like an eternity before he could draw air into his starving lungs. Then he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. Everything hurt. He didn’t know what ached worse—where the major injuries were, or whether the worst of it was from Sybbyl’s strike, hitting the tree, or falling to the ground. None of it mattered. He had to get to his feet.

  Only by using a nearby tree was he able to pull himself to a standing position. His eyes were blurry, so he blinked a few times to clear them. He saw no sign of Sybbyl as his eyes scanned the forest. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, alerting him that someone was near.

  Brom spun and dropped to his knees an instant before magic slammed into the tree, splintering it. Huge chunks of bark rained down upon Brom, causing him to use magic to protect himself. He glanced at the tree in time to see a large portion of the top coming directly at
him from high above. Brom dove out of the way. He rolled, coming to his feet as he sent another blast, but once more, Sybbyl was nowhere to be seen.

  He slowly turned, looking for her. When there was no sign of her, Brom rushed to where Runa lay. Before he reached her, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Brom dove, twisting and getting off a round of magic directed at Sybbyl. His gaze latched on to the wave of magic coming at him. In slow motion, he saw it aimed for his chest. Brom turned onto his back in midair and saw it skim by his tunic, slicing the top without harming him. He landed hard on his back and immediately jumped to his feet. Pushing aside the pain that radiated from every fiber of his being, Brom sent two more strikes of magic at Sybbyl.

  They were both injured. Brom wanted to think the witch was hurt worse than he was, but he didn’t think so. She had two bones of the First Witch to amplify her power, he only had the one. He had no idea where Malene and the others were. All he could do was stay on his feet long enough for them to find him so they could end Sybbyl.

  But Brom wasn’t sure he would be able to. He winced and glanced down at his side where a large cut poured blood. With a hand on it to help stanch the flow, Brom knew his strength was leaving him quickly.

  “You’re no match for me,” Sybbyl said as she eyed him with derision. “You think because you’re a warlock that you’re better than me?”

  He snorted at her, noticing that she was favoring her left side. “I know that I’m fighting on the side of good.”

  “Good?” she said with a cackle. “I’m the one fighting for the rights of all with magic!”

  “You take lives as if you have the right to decide who lives and who dies.”

  Her lips peeled back in a sneer. “Those without magic have been doing that for centuries. It has to stop.”

  “Your way isn’t the right way,” he said as blood poured through his fingers and dripped onto the snow.

  She shook her head. “You should be dead. Why aren’t you dead?”

  “I’m a Varroki.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “It’s more than that.” Her face went blank. “You have a bone.”