Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)

The longer they went without using the enchantments, the more nervous I became. It was true that the strength of my magic was more than a match for Nismae’s, but she had time and experience on her side. I was exhausted from spending two nights in a tomb.

High Councillor Raisa ascended the stairs next. She moved unsteadily, using the railing to support and guide herself. But once she entered the ring, she straightened, the years seeming to fall away as she skimmed power from the thoughts and feelings and emotions of everyone in the coliseum, all of which still ran high from the battle. Her magic stung, like thorns or nettles working their way into my skull. As she did so, her body unbent itself until she stood steady on her feet, looking closer to forty winters of age than the many centuries she’d lived.

Ina roared and it sounded like laughter. She wasn’t the least bit afraid. I clenched my cloak so tightly I thought my hands might go numb. What none of us knew was how many of my gifts Nismae might have been able to impart to Ina with my blood. If she had figured out how to use the most dangerous of my powers, all it would take was a tug on the threads of Raisa’s magic to pull her away into nothingness, to hand her over to the shadow god.

Part of me wanted to make a break for it—to race across the ring to the challenger’s side and find Hal. Get Zallie and the children and leave now before the worst of the battle could come to pass. I didn’t know how to help the king who had betrayed me so deeply, who had left me to die. But how could I switch to Ina’s side when she and Nismae had done things just as terrible?

Unlike the ill-fated chimera, Raisa was not going to let Ina make the first move. She flicked her hand and a cloud of magic floated toward Ina, who snapped at it, only to freeze in place when it hit her. She backed up quickly, shaking her head, trying to free herself of the misty shroud following her. She screamed a roar of frustration and hurt.

And then I remembered what spirit users could do: give other people emotions and feelings that didn’t belong to them. All Ina’s worst fears were coming to life inside her mind. Raisa was not a fighter with weapons, but with emotions.

At first, Ina shrank back, but as soon as she realized she couldn’t escape the illusions Raisa had woven into her mind, her fury boiled over. She thundered around the ring, roaring, shooting out random bursts of flame. The audience shrank back from the edge, some of them only narrowly avoiding incineration. Raisa wove a spell around herself like a luminous golden shield, separating herself into two people, then three, then four. The illusions kept splitting until a dozen of her circled Ina.

Would Nismae do her part to stop this?

Ina turned in a panicked circle in the middle of the arena, then leaped into the sky. All the Raisas raised their hands, and Ina crashed to the ground as her equilibrium was thrown off by Raisa’s spell. Then the illusions closed in.

The crowd surged to its feet. This had never been how we expected this battle to end, with Ina cowering in the center of the ring, keening from the psychological torture wrought on her by a person centuries older than her. Only Ina’s tail twitched, sweeping through one of the illusions, and then her head snapped up. Something about the feel of the magic as her tail passed through it must have reminded her of the Sight. One of my gifts. A gift she could now use thanks to my blood.

She caught Nismae’s eye, and one of the streaks of blood painted on her face lit up with magic. With growing horror I watched it glow more and more brightly, saw Ina begin to distinguish reality from illusion. Perhaps I had underestimated Nismae’s skill and power. She seemed to be using the strength of Ina’s fire magic to give more power to the enchantments she’d set with my blood.

With an unfamiliar gift like Ina’s, there was no way to know how much energy she’d have left to use against the king. How deep did that well run? Would I be able to help him enough to hold them off? And did I even want to after what he’d done? I tried to tell myself that anything I did had to be for the best of the kingdom, but if I was honest with myself, all I wanted was the Fatestone and my family. I wanted to take them, run, and never look back.

The moment Ina locked eyes with the real Raisa, she and Nismae pulled the next of my tricks. In a way that was sickeningly familiar, she began to unthread the magic that held Raisa together. I felt it keenly as she reached in, absorbing the power from Raisa and winding its threads into her own until she glowed more and more brightly in my Sight.

Watching someone else do it, knowing the gift had been bestowed with my blood, made my stomach turn inside out. At least Leozoar had asked to die.

As Raisa weakened, so did the illusions, vanishing one by one. The psychological torment must have quieted too, because soon Ina was rising, arching her neck, drinking in Raisa’s magic like it was water. She didn’t even bother going for blood. The audience had already seen enough of that.

Raisa screamed as her body was stolen from her again, aging back into its previous form and then further, until her skin shrank over her bones, her eyes became empty sockets, and then her bare skeleton crumbled into dust.

Ina roared in triumph, kicking Raisa’s ashes into the sky, and then making another lap of the ring. The crowd screamed, still on their feet.

The time had come for Ina to face the king.

The time had come for me to enter the battle in his support.

At this point, it was the last thing I wanted to do.





CHAPTER 37


THE CROWD TOOK THEIR SEATS BUT RAGED ON AS INA retreated into the challenger’s quarters for her final preparations. I descended from the audience and hovered near the king’s entrance to the coliseum, my nerves jangling as I waited for Ina to return. Cold wind battered me, making the red cloak whip around my ankles.

Ina emerged still in dragon form, her face painted even more ornately, the enchantments so bright she was hard to look at with my Sight. Then a familiar shape moved into place beside Nismae: Hal. A jolt ran through me, equal parts relief and desperation. What was he doing still over there? I needed to tell him what the king had done. I wanted the security of his hand in mine.

The people of Zumorda cheered as their king entered the arena, perhaps for him, or perhaps for the hope of his blood being spilled. I was no longer sure which I hoped for. The dragon’s eyes narrowed when she saw the bloody armor, and then she glanced to where I stood. This wasn’t something she’d expected. Her surprise was satisfying, but no match for my despair. I’d helped my betrayer, and it was too late to turn back now. If I did, the kingdom would be destroyed, and there was no guarantee I could get the Fatestone from Ina if she won.

I had no doubt Nismae would be more than happy to claim the Fatestone as proof of her revenge on the king. And even if she handed it over, my powers would drain away along with the magic as it left Zumorda. I’d have to flee to Havemont, where the gods would still be worshipped and nothing had been done to upset the order of their kingdom.

Ina reached for the magic of the king’s life force immediately, attempting to rend it into pieces. She tugged at it as if to snap the neck of a small animal. I felt her magic pulling at me, too, but it was easy enough to push it off. The king’s enchantments held strong, and the magic slipped away from her. She couldn’t use my powers against a person enchanted the same way—especially with me at his back.

The king was slow, but calculating. Ina was fast and filled with fury. Few sounds made it above the shouts of the crowd—the awful sound of teeth on metal when Ina landed a strike, then her roar as he shocked her with lightning that burst from his fingertips, borrowed from the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. Ina retreated, head low, tail whipping.

I felt every jolt of magic, even the fierce shocks as he drew on the powers of all six gods.

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