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But I needed to be terrifying to him.
Undeterred, I gathered his magic, letting it pool in my hands, watching the purple mist gather around my fingertips. I tried to focus, but the dizziness wouldn’t leave.
I inhaled deeply, feeling Araki’s resistance as he fought to regain his magic from my grasp. I was foolish to think he would fall for a kiss. But this—this is what would be my killing blow. His magic against him. The night was watching, waiting to see my victory. The wind whipped around us as the stars winked, one by one, cloaking us in total darkness. The ball felt like a distance away, insignificant.
“King Araki,” I yelled across the space between us. I manipulated his magic, bringing his attention back to me, so he could watch his death as it came for him, the way my parents had. “The Nightshade Coven sends its fatal regards. Long live the Usurper of Halafarin.”
Then I threw all the magic I gathered tonight, hurtling in a wave of such devastating magic.
But then I gasped, hit with a feeling I couldn’t recognize. It was as though someone cut me open, the slightest incision in my gut, and prodded inside. A phantom gust sneaked in, sending shivers shuddering through me. I was drained immediately, falling to my knees on a hard inhale.
The magic I aimed at Araki dissipated between us, slowly feeding back to him.
He looked at me, his face dark with fury and death. And I realized he was taking back what I stole and more.
He took some of my magic.
“No!” I cried.No!
Araki’s fingers twitched, and I felt something dropping in me, like a knot being tied and then being anchored within that incision that was made. His magic wrapped and tightened around my body, incapacitating me. In a trance, I watched his lips part.
“Our souls combine through pain, blood, and magic. Never to part, never to split. What is mine is yours. What is yours is mine!” He roared.
Blue light erupted around us, blinding me.
One’s Duty and Vow
Several days ago
Reilyn
“Breathe, Reilyn.”
My eyes flew open as I took a deep breath. I gathered the energy I felt radiating from the woman before me, her hands clasped before her.
“There you go,” Priestess Opaline said. Her grey eyes held mine, her head tipped to look down at me, but I knew it was a knowing look rather than a dismissive sneer. We both knew I didn't need the instruction. The training was more of a practised formality, something to keep me limber, my magic well-acquainted, so it didn't drain me too much to use when I went beyond the sanctuary.
Let me borrow you. I breathed as Opaline instructed and reached out for the threads of magic she extended to me. I mentally ran a finger over the threads, touching each inch as I guided it toward me. I cooed at it.
High Priestess Opaline watched me, waiting for her magic to snap into me, meld with my own, and let me borrow the energy she possessed. I felt it when it sunk into me, making me gasp with sheer intensity. While Opaline had a modest amount of magic, it was still hers, and anything borrowed was like an electric shock when it formed with mine.
Behind the High Priestess, Nala struggled to compose her face. I smiled at her, but jealousy warped her pretty features. She had been my best friend since I came to the Nightshade Coven, where Opaline had trained us both. My magic far outweighed Nala's, and while she sat in my training sessions, quiet withlonging, she didn't let it force us apart. I gave her a slight nod which she returned.
Opaline snapped her fingers, a gentle reminder to focus. I wanted to roll my eyes and tell her I had been born ready for anything the Nightshade Coven gave me. In the past twelve months, I was sent to other kingdoms, stealing magical artefacts to covet and protect, assassinating corrupt officials, and swallowing magic from the mouths of those tainting it. Assassination was my most prevalent job with the coven, and it wouldn't end with the tally I already had.
My lips quirked when I looked at Opaline. No, I'll keep being useful to them for as long as they need me, and they won't stop needing me. Not now, when I was on the verge of my most important mission.
“Come here, little sister,” I called, using the affectionate nickname I gave Nala many years ago.
“Reilyn, this is your training session,” Opaline chided. “Nala has enough of her own training to do.”
“She can spare one moment.” I dismissed her fussing. Glancing around wearily, Nala rose from her perch on the large, flat rock she was lounging on in the sun and approached me. I took her hand before she could protest and pulled her to me. Her magic seeped into me, dancing and twirling in vibrant pinks and lilacs. I could see her magic. With Opaline, it was like trying to play an instrument long ago forgotten that took a moment to be familiar with. But Nala's magic came to me without much beckoning. I laughed quietly as I thought about changing my hair color—midnight blue ringlets to a shock of red—and felt the slight tingling in my scalp as it transformed.
When I opened my eyes, I knew my red hair had turned pink. Nala's magic was pretty and delicate, like her rosebud mouth, high, rosy cheeks, and pink hair that bounced down her back like a waterfall. Nala was beautiful, and I was envious of her ability to change herself depending on her mood. I could only do it when she felt generous and had the energy to spare by letting me mimic her magic.
But while Nala could deceptively change her appearance and create small illusions with existing elements—her hair, clothes, eye color—she couldn't magic something out of thin air. I was beautiful and powerful.
My gift allowed me to inhale anyone's magic and claim it. Observe it from the sidelines, reaching out to feel it, like dipping fingers into the water out of the side of a boat until I was ready to use it. A mirror, Opaline had called me when I first showed her my magic, that very first training session. I reflected people's magic at them; I could use it to my own will. Borrow it, give it back, and feel the depletion leave my body exhausted for a while. But it was exhilarating—to take something of someone's and wield it like my own.
