by Lizzy Prince
The fact that they’d done blood magic together rocked me a little. I found myself taking a step back, pressing more firmly against Munro’s hand. My pulse was throbbing at the base of my throat. Roark’s trustworthiness suddenly had a big question mark next to it.
“I know your thoughts, little witch.” Roark sneered at me, looking pissed that he’d been forced to share this secret with us all. “Stow them. If I hadn’t wanted to help, you’d be out on the street, missing the sword.”
“Is that why Áine called you the marked one?”
Roark just glared at me and didn’t answer, but that was all the answer I needed. Mari stood up from the couch as if she couldn’t take the tension weighing down the room. “Okay, so Roark knows how to get her there. What do we do once she’s there?”
“I have an idea about that,” I said, shooting one last look at Roark. He appeared lost in his own head. His eyes had taken on a distant look as if memories haunted him. But then they narrowed as he glared at me, and I saw a spark of anger and pain painted beneath their green color, like it was part of his DNA. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t like that I could see right through him. That I might figure out secrets he’d prefer to keep hidden.
Everyone else looked at me with various levels of patience, waiting for me to spit out what I thought might be a decent plan. I needed those with magical expertise to tell me how we could accomplish what I was envisioning, but I had the gist of what I thought we’d need to do to stop Cailleach. Permanently.
Mari and Butch hurried to sort through the somewhat shocking amount of magical supplies that Roark had in a spare room. Maybe he was constantly doing magic spells, but the sheer amount of stuff seemed excessive. Mari was thrilled though, and even Lola looked impressed as she peered into the room and started perusing the shelves.
I wandered back out into the kitchen where Roark was sitting on one of the stools at the island. He was sharpening a knife, like some badass monster hunter getting ready to go hunt some bad guys. Who was this guy? I pulled out the stool next to him and watched as he continued sharpening his blade. He paused, turning his head to look at me with a raised brow.
“Do you need something?” How could someone sound so arrogant when saying so few words?
I looked at the tattoos running up and down his arms. Even his fingers had ink, making him look dangerous and more than a little scary. Still, I’d faced worse things than the walking bad attitude in front of me.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Roark sighed and turned back to his knife. The blade making a shink sound each time he passed it over the stone. “What?”
Ryan and Theo were in the living room while everyone else was in the spare room sorting through herbs and spells stuff. Theo looked ready to fall asleep again, and Ryan was on his phone, distractedly typing away. Still, I spoke quietly because I wasn’t sure how much Roark would appreciate anyone knowing his business. Including me.
“Munro and I used blood magic to stop Hattie. He told me that when you do blood magic, you’re connected to the other person forever. If you die, they die.”
Roark slowed his arm, and then set his knife down, giving me his full attention. He wasn’t going to help me out with an explanation, even though he had to know where I was going with my question. He was going to make me spit it out.
“If you’re connected to Cailleach through blood magic, if she dies, won’t you die too?” I whispered as I searched his face for any sign of worry or fear. But there was only cold determination.
“If I were you, I'd be more concerned about whether you’ll be walking away from this battle.”
“I think I’m suitably terrified. Thanks. But that’s not what I asked.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. That magic is long gone. But she’ll still recognize my blood.” Roark rubbed a finger over one of the tattoos on his ring finger.
I remembered Mari telling me that blood from that finger was more powerful. There was an old wife’s tale that claimed there was a vein that ran straight from that finger to the heart. It was just a tale made to inspire romantic swooning, but I wondered if some of the tattoos that adorned Roark’s body were there for protection.
After a minute of uncomfortable silence, I canted my head in an awkward nod. “Okay. Glad to hear it.” Then rolled my eyes as I headed to help the others get ready for the shit show we were about to launch ourselves into head first.
Chapter 19
The drive back to the Hill of Tara was so full of tension it felt like I couldn’t get a deep breath. It was probably anxiety, or maybe I was about to have a panic attack, but the result was the same. I felt freaked out and unprepared despite the fact that the lia fáil were packed up like luggage in the miniscule trunk of the van. The air crackled with a foreboding so thick that even Theo was quiet. The trip was way too short and before I knew it, we were back at the Hill of Tara, arranging ourselves as we’d discussed at Roark’s.
My eyes scanned in a circle looking at our little group, our make-shift family, and saw the fear written there as clear as day. But there was determination too. We’d stationed ourselves in a makeshift square, using the coronation stone as our western point, and placing the sword to the east, the spear to the south, and the cauldron to the north. Mari and Theo stood by the stone, much to Theo’s disgruntlement. He’d claimed that since he was the one to pull the spear out of the dolmen at Poulnabrone that it belonged in his hand. I’d had to placate him with promises that it was all his when we were done trying to save the world. He’d pouted but eventually agreed, but I didn’t think he’d thought about getting it home on his luggage. Sorry dude, that was so not happening.
Ryan and Munro stood to the south, and Munro was holding the spear, which made sense since their element was fire. Butch and Lola took up the spot to the north. Lola held the sword casually, the flat of the blade resting against her shoulder. Her hair was in her ever-constant high ponytail, and I swore she was wearing leather pants. Although, how the hell could you move in that? She looked like she was ready to kick someone’s ass, and I believed she could. Her jaw was set with sheer determination. Butch looked calm beside her, but I wasn’t sure much frazzled that man.
That left Roark and I at the northern point the goblet—or cauldron—sitting at my feet. There was power humming around it, beckoning and enticing me to pick it up and use it, but I didn’t want to put my hands on it just yet. I felt like as soon as I did, all hell was going to break loose. In fact, I was kind of counting on it.
“What am I supposed to do with this stone?” Theo had been griping about the stone since we’d come up with the plan. I was pretty sure it was just his way of working out his nervous energy, because I’d seen him giving Lola some kind of pep talk when we’d gotten out of the van. And it looked like he’d been telling her to kick ass with the sword. But Theo’s superpower was distraction and even if he was driving people crazy, he was still taking their minds off the daunting task ahead of us.
“I could at least do some damage with the spear or sword. Hell, I could even knock someone out with the stupid cup.” Theo pouted and smacked a hand against the stone. He yelped and jumped back. “What the hell? Why is it warm?” Theo’s eyes darted around the group, looking panicked as he stared at his hand, then up at the stone as if he wanted to accuse it of doing something nefarious.
Roark spoke up beside me. “It senses the other lia fáil. Their power together is stronger, and it feels complete.”
Theo leveled a disbelieving glare at Roark, looking at him like he had two heads. “The rock feels complete?”
Roark returned the stare, giving Theo a look that said he didn’t have time for this shit. “Yes.”
“Okay then,” Theo said with an eyebrow raised. And leaned back into the stone and sighed, as if that simple answer made it less crazy. Plus, now he had his own personal body warmer.
Roark grunted and mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “disrespectful”.
I looked down at the goblet in front of me, staring at the intricate etchings in the silver. They matched those on the sword and as I stared at them, they appeared to move. Blinking my eyes a few times, I shook out my hands as a tingle worked its way through my body. The magic was so thick here that I could feel it buzzing against my skin with little jolts of electricity. The golden particles swarmed around us like moths did to those giant streetlamps in the summer back in Iowa.
They weren’t vicious like those bugs though. No, they wrapped around everyone like a protective blanket, as if the magic was another person in our fight. I watched as the sparks reacted differently to Roark. They didn’t zip and fly around him. Instead, they hovered as though he was controlling their behavior with his mere presence. Something to consider later. Just another piece of the Roark puzzle.
He saw me staring and gave me a bored look. “You have something you want to say before we get all this started?”
I didn’t know if he was always in a rotten mood or if our appearance on his doorstep with this mess was the reason. But it didn’t frighten me. I’d been ready to put the magic’s reaction to him in the very back of my mental parking lot until all of this was over, but he was inviting the question, so what the hell?
“The magic doesn’t react the same way to you as it does the others.” I shrugged.
I must have caught him off guard because I could tell it was a genuine reaction when he flinched. “You can see the magic?”
The memories of a similar conversation with Munro launched themselves in my head. Roark’s reaction just confirmed that it was indeed rather rare. Not that I doubted Munro’s word on the matter but seeing Roark’s shock was in and of itself surprising. What shocked someone who’d been around for eons?
“I can. I know it’s rare,” I said, the wind whipping around us, cutting through my coat and lashing strands of my hair around my face. My nose was starting to go numb, and I fought the urge to sniffle every few minutes.
Roark stared at me, that haunted look returning to his eyes, and I didn’t understand why this would have brought it about.
“I know of only one other witch who could see the magic.” He looked over at the coronation stone, his shoulders slouching just the slightest as if he carried something heavy. “Cailleach could see the magic.”
“Oh,” I gasped, not sure how to respond to that. Should I be concerned about all the similarities Cailleach and I shared?
Knowledge about things like this and the fact that Roark had done blood magic with Cailleach just made him more of a puzzle. And I was even more curious about how he’d ended up as a guard dog for a fae relic while living for thousands of years. No wonder his eyes looked haunted.
Neither of us moved as the wind carried away his words. He stared at nothing while my gaze was trapped on his face. Then, as if a switch was flipped, he straightened, and the mask fell over his features, displaying only the cocky, tattooed beast that he presented to the world. Turning back to the rest of our group, I looked over all of the faces of the people who had become like family to me. I remembered that even if Cailleach and I shared magical similarities, when it came to family, we couldn’t have been more different.
“Let’s get started,” I said, and my voice carried through our magical circle like the cold air had crystalized the words.
We’d figured out a plan the night before, and I could only hope we didn’t all die in the process. Mari grasped Theo’s hand, and they each placed their free hand on the coronation stone. Mari closed her eyes and began to chant. The words she spoke were ancient and foreign, and I didn’t know what she was saying, but I knew what they meant. It was a request for protection. A blessing upon the earth. Earth that was represented by the stone. There was a tug at the collective magic around us, and I saw the golden particles swirling and weaving through our bodies, wrapping us in a protective cloak.
Mari’s sucked in a deep breath and flicked her eyes open. She nodded, letting us know her part was complete. Munro and Ryan came next. They faced one another. Each one had a hand wrapped around one end of the spear. They spoke the same words that Mari had just said, only this time, they weren’t giving a blessing to the earth but praising the fire for its ability to give and take life. To create balance because even as it destroyed it made way for new life to bloom.
The magic swelled again, and my skin was charged with the power gathering around us. Every hair on my body stood straight up, and goosebumps rippled over my skin as wave after wave of incredible power surged and pulsed. The threads of earth and fire magic wove together, making the particles shift color slightly. Some of the gold took on a slightly darker color that reminded me of a burning ember.
Shifting their hands to the center shaft of the spear, Ryan and Munro slammed it into the ground, cementing the connection between earth and fire. The power undulated from the spear, a reverberation of magic so strong that I felt a blast of warmth on my face despite the frigid temperatures. My breath was coming in short pants as the energy charged each cell in my body.
I could see everyone in the circle was similarly affected, and I sensed the need for action brewing under all of our skin. Without pausing to even catch our breath, we turned to Butch and Lola. Lola shifted the sword so that she was holding it parallel to the ground, and Butch placed his hands over top of Lola’s. As she and Butch began to speak the words of the spell, the air around us shifted and danced, blowing my hair back from my face as if in a gentle caress. Lola and Butch were asking the wind to bring change, to take away the ill winds of the past and usher in renewed balance.
This time, the magic spun and dove between our bodies, and threads of a soft shimmering green appeared, making the magic look like a kaleidoscope of color. There was nothing else left but for Roark and me to do our parts. Neither Roark nor I picked up the cauldron but left it at our feet. Turning to face him, I looked in his eyes, silently asking if he was ready. That pain and anger was still present in his green eyes, but he also looked more determined than ever. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, and we clasped hands.
This time, only Roark spoke, speaking a blessing and asking the water to cleanse, to heal old wounds and bring about new life, washing away the decay of the old. When he finished, I spoke my own spell, seeking the soul magic deep in the depths of my heart. I thought about my mother’s magic, which had been released back to me after Hattie’s death. I both felt and saw the particles of magic swell and pulse around us, like a comforting embrace. As if some piece of her was there protecting me. Protecting all of us. Then, I thought of Munro’s magic, intertwined with my own through both the bond of blood magic and also through the souls of Connall and Áine. They might not be the reason we loved one another, but their souls were a part of us. And their love had waited thousands of years to be reunited.
My eyes were locked on Roark’s, but I felt each individual in the circle of our spell. Every person had made a place in my life. Whether it was because I loved them, or someone I loved, loved them. It didn’t matter. They’d become part of my life, part of my family.
Keeping the connection with Roark, I asked the soul magic to provide the capacity to heal our hearts, to give us the ability to move forward even after we’d been broken. Truth rang out in my voice because I knew it was possible, and it had already happened for most of us. Some of us still needed healing though, and I asked the soul magic to give them peace so they could find their way once again. When the magic swelled one last time, there were five strands of magic swirling and weaving their way around us in golds, umber, greens, blues, and red. For one moment in time, we were safe and loved and protected. I wanted to stay inside the bubble of well-being, but the only way to make sure we could get back to that place was to deal with Cailleach.
Pulling one of my hands from Roark’s, I stretched my hand out toward the spear buried in the earth. With little more than a thought, it soared through the air and into my outstretched hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, Roark held out his palm
to me, and I used the knife end of the spear to slice down the center. Still holding his other hand, we both knelt as he held his free hand over the cauldron. Blood seeped from the wound and pooled at the edge of his palm. One single drop of blood dangled above the cup before it broke free and dropped inside.
As if Roark’s blood was a hydrogen bomb, all the air around us was sucked in before it exploded out from the cauldron. Roark had warned us this could happen, so everyone was braced for the impact. Even still, I was almost thrown back and if Roark hadn’t been holding my hand I would have been tossed from him like a piece of confetti in the wind. When the air settled, I looked around to make sure everyone was okay and sighed in relief to see everyone was still upright. Either standing or crouched as they’d braced against the onslaught.
“Now we wait,” Roark said as he straightened up, pulling me from the ground and releasing my hand.
“No need to wait any longer, darling. I’m here now.”
Roark visibly paled, and my stomach dropped to my feet. I spun around to find Cailleach at my back. Looking more alive than should have been possible without a single burn on her body. This was it.
Chapter 20
Considering I’d set Cailleach on fire and left her to burn just the day before, I’d say she looked pretty damn good. Her skin didn’t show one burn or scar from the fire, and she had found new clothing. No doubt to replace what had been burned off her. Even though I’d seen her in modern clothing the day before, it was still disconcerting to see her in leggings and a sweater. I don’t know why, since it wasn’t like there was a store on every corner for ye old garments that she would have stocked up on dresses like she wore back in her day.
She looked so small with her long dark hair tumbling wildly down her back. If I’d seen her on the street, I would have thought she was any modern woman, well, a very beautiful modern woman. But she was a viper, a coiled snake that might look unassuming. But she was deadly, and the disgust on her face was directed at Roark.