Blood Sorcery

Chapter 1

I always knew when a new memory was coming.

I woke in the darkness, choking, shoving the blankets aside as I gasped for air.

No… My lips formed the word, but all that came from my dry throat was a rasp of sound. I couldn’t deal with another memory. There were too many of them now, they were coming too fast. First, they had come only in my dreams—which was its own torment, making me fear sleep and locking me in the blurry realm of what was real and what wasn’t.

Now, even waking up didn’t stop them.

They’d been getting worse since I started practicing magic again—especially since I’d started practicing the darker magics: death magic … and blood magic.

The fact that I could now see my magic as part of the web of life, larger than myself, as natural as any predator, didn’t change the fact that other humans feared it instinctively. It also didn’t change the fact that blood magic was banned, that I’d hidden that talent from Daiman.

I was already lying to my only ally.

And every time I practiced … it seemed to bring up memories of my past life. I could feel this one bursting free of the spells that had held it back. Instinctively, my mind tried to press it away. I knew by now that I couldn’t stop a memory, but I always tried.

I wanted to cry when it finally made its way into my consciousness: a muddy cobblestone street, the smell of death in my nostrils, a cold wind that tugged at my cloak.

I knew this memory. I’d been seeing pieces of it for weeks now.

It was the day Terric Delaney almost killed me.

How I had survived, I didn’t know. I only knew that I’d been sure I was going to die. I remembered fear and pain and knowing there was no possible way I could escape this. I remembered fire, Terric’s magic, licking at my skin.

I couldn’t deal with another piece of this memory.

But I had no way to stop it.

I had no idea what was coming. I was striding along the grimy street, my shoes clicking on the stones, and I drew both my skirts and my cloak up around myself so they wouldn’t drag in the mud. I could feel a sneer on my lips.

In the present, my heart was racing. I gripped the edge of the bed and tried to stay upright. I was praying for this to be over soon.

It was daytime, but the street was eerily deserted. Once or twice, I thought I caught the sound of crying on the wind, and the crackle of fire, but no one stirred from their houses.

The plague had driven them inside.

I couldn’t always remember my thoughts when I saw memories, but this time, I knew what they were: that this was exactly the world I wanted. I wanted the humans inside their houses, silent and unseen. I wanted the world to myself.

In the present, my stomach twisted. The reason for that silence had been illness and death, something my past self knew very well.

And all she had felt … was satisfaction.

Is it down this street? I called over my shoulder. I did not look back at whoever was accompanying me, but I could hear the heavier tread of his boots.

Yes. Not much farther.

The man’s voice was carefully blank, but with what I knew now about that day, I could hear the lies.

In the present, I froze. There was dread settling into the pit of my stomach. I knew where this was going, and even though I thought Nicola Beaumont had had it coming … well, Nicola Beaumont was me, and I didn’t want to see this happen.

It’s too bad Philip isn’t here to see this. Although…. My past self must have had some witty comment to say, for I turned to my companion, half-laughing, my mouth opening.

The fireball hit me in the space between breath and words.

It was a killing blow—or it should have been. My hands came up to shield myself, and wards burst up around me faster than any ritual could create them.

I’d always been fast with magic.

The force of the fireball bowled me over backwards, and I felt its heat somewhere distantly, but it was not the decisive strike it should have been.

I saw Terric’s horror as I hauled myself to my feet. He’d thought this would be the end of it—alone, no witnesses and no innocent bystanders—and here I was, still alive … and he had no backup.

Why?

The sound of my voice startled me. It was a like a little child’s, high and uncomprehending. Even as my enemy looked at me in complete terror, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t strike.

I could feel my own betrayal echoing down through the years, still in some ways as sharp as it had been that day.

The memory released me and I leaned over, covering my mouth with one hand to keep from throwing up. My stomach was still twisting.

Why?

I could hear the word over and over in my head. I knew the story of my own past. I knew what I had done. There weren’t even words for how awful I had been. I had never wanted to feel sorry for that woman, but here I was, wanting to comfort her.

There was a sleepy murmur from beside me and Daiman’s hand came to rest on my back.

You all right? His voice was slurred with sleep, his palm warm on my clammy skin.

I’m fine. I tried to slow the racing of my heart, but my stomach heaved again and I leaned over, hissing through my teeth. You should … go back to sleep.

We’d missed the boat on that one, though. He was awake now, trying to pull me into his arms while I struggled away. I couldn’t deal with a touch on my skin right now—I could still feel the warmth of the fire through my wards, the jarring impact of my body against cobblestones.

I could still hear my own voice asking "Why?"

Daiman sat back in the bed warily. In the moonlight, he looked almost like a statue, bleached into whites and blues. In daytime and by candlelight, he was all warm colors—tanned skin, brown hair falling softly over his forehead. There were gold glints in his eyes if you looked closely enough, which I definitely liked to do.

I pushed myself out of bed and managed to light a candle, though my hands were trembling so badly that it took three tries.

I heard the creak of the bed and he was behind me, arms warm around my waist, hands steadying mine on the candle.

What did you see? His voice was low and warm in my ear.

I closed my eyes and let my head drop back against his chest. The solid warmth of him was bringing me back to the real world, to this little village in Greece that was far in space and time from that day so many years ago.

I didn’t want to remember it again.

It was the day Terric killed me. I opened my eyes and sighed. I mean … you know what I mean.

His arms tightened around me silently. He didn’t say anything, for which I was grateful.

For inhabitants of the magical world, April 17, 1350 was the day I had died. It had been a shock to find out that I hadn’t actually died that day.

Like the fact of who I was, it didn’t seem to fit with the rest of reality.

Was it a new memory? Daiman asked me.

Hmm? I looked up at him, and then nodded. Sorry. Right. Yes. It, ah…. My throat closed around the words and I had to force myself to keep talking. It wasn’t much. It was his first attack.

Oh? He pulled away from me to take a seat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. Moonlight, dappled through the tree outside our window, slid over his bare skin. So how did it start?

I heard my own voice again in my head, asking why, and all of a sudden, I didn’t want to share it. I didn’t want to say it out loud. Why had I been so surprised? Terric had been my enemy.

No, I couldn’t tell anyone else yet. I still didn’t know what to make of it.

Fireball, I said shortly. It was nothing, really.

He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again, looking away. His face said he knew I was lying, but at least he didn’t push it.

I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered as I looked out at the water. The night air was drying the sweat on my skin, and I was quickly getting chilled.

And the memories were starting to steal the sense of safety I’d found in this place. Theoretically, it was far away from everything. It was isolated, surrounded by people whose concerns were the frequency of the rain and the availability of fish, where the cows and sheep were in the mountains, how the olive crop was.

But it wasn’t far enough away to keep me from remembering.

Nowhere was far enough away for that.

And….

We should head north, Daiman said quietly.

I looked up at him, silent. Waiting. I knew what was coming, and I didn’t like it.

The Coimeail need an answer, he pointed out.

I gave a groan and sank my face into my hands.

Two days ago, I had received a request from the Coimeail, the four magicians who had once advised Terric in his oversight of the Acadamh. Once, they had been eager to let him deal with my … inconvenient … magical specialty.

In other words, they’d wanted him to murder me.

Now they wanted me to kill him, instead.

Maybe it was a joke. My voice was muffled by my hands. I picked my face up and stared at him. Possibly?

His look told me the odds of that. He shook his head regretfully.

It’s just…. I felt my fingers clench, and knew I was frowning. I was grateful to be drawn back to the present, away from the memory….

But the present had its own problems.

Namely: Doesn’t it seem like a bit of a leap?

Daiman’s eyebrows came up. What?

I began to pace. They said Terric’s gone rogue, so they want me to kill him. Right?

Daiman rubbed at his hair. His face was furrowed in confusion. Right. But—

"Okay … how has he gone rogue?" I stared at him, hands spread, waiting for the look of recognition in his eyes.

It didn’t come.

This was probably why people didn’t usually have important discussions in the middle of the night.

I sighed. "My point is, none of this fits together. We haven’t heard anything about him disappearing, right? And hell, why has he gone rogue? More than that, why am I the one who needs to kill him? Why can’t they do it themselves?"

They’re all the Acadamh has left, he advised me. They can’t risk themselves. And they would never ask unless the need was urgent.

How urgent can it be? I demanded. He opened his mouth, and I cut him off with a shake of my head. "No, seriously. How urgent can it possibly be? They’re the Coimeail. They command the Hunters. Every powerful sorcerer in the Separatist world owes them allegiance. They aren’t lacking for resources. Why do I need to do this?"

Because his treason is not yet widely known, a new voice said.

Daiman and I looked around sharply.

Maggie emerged from the shadows of the doorway. How long she had been there, listening, I wasn’t sure. She could appear and disappear at will, a trick few sorcerers ever mastered—I wasn’t sure if even I had ever had the knack of it.

Certainly, she’d been there long enough to hear that I didn’t trust them.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared.

She didn’t look at me, though, not at once. Her eyes raked over Daiman’s naked chest, and it was clear from the tightening of her lips that she was displeased to find him here, in my bed. There was no jealousy to it that I could see—merely distaste.

As if I were somehow dirty, and she were disappointed in her old friend.

When Daiman looked away from her, I felt something twist in my chest. Was he ashamed?

Was he ashamed of me?

Maggie’s cool voice called me back.

There’s no stopping the news that you’re alive, unfortunately. She slid her arms into her sleeves like some sort of ancient statue. Her gaze was impassive. We’d hoped to control it, but Philip made sure the whole Monarchist world knew you were alive, and that Terric was a liar. It didn’t take long to spread to the Hunters from there.

I couldn’t help but think that was fair. As little as I thought of Philip, there was no getting around facts. Terric had lied. He’d built a false reputation on a whole foundation of lies, in fact.

He deserved everything he got, in my opinion. I shrugged, a smile playing around my lips.

Maggie’s eyes flashed slightly. We have so far, however, managed to control the information of where he is and what he is doing, at least. Her voice was clipped.

"And where is he, and what is he doing?" I raised an eyebrow.

Finally, I was going to get some answers.

We … don’t know.

Or … not. I blinked. I looked at Daiman, only to find him looking at Maggie in equal confusion.

What? I said finally.

She hesitated. Come outside, she said finally. The rest are there. I will explain everything.

She was gone a moment later, and Daiman got up silently. I could tell from the jerky movements as he pulled on his clothing that he didn’t like this any more than I did.

We don’t have to go out, I said quietly.

He looked up at me silently.

I shook my head helplessly, You know this whole thing reeks of lies already. They can’t order me to do anything, I’m not beholden to them. We don’t have to go out.

You may not be beholden to them, he said quietly. But I— He broke off when he saw my face. What do you want me to say? he asked finally.

I shook my head. I had no answer for him.

"I pledged my life to the Acadamh." His voice was harsh.

I know. I never forgot that.

Nicky….

Fine. Let’s see what they want. I pushed my way past him out the door.

Nicky. He said my name again, his voice almost hopeless.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

What was I going to say, anyway? Pick me?

I had never been one to beg.

Chapter 2

They were, indeed, all there, standing together and waiting for us. Whether they overheard our conversation, I could not tell.

I hoped not, but those impassive faces could mean anything.

I saw Akihito regarding me calmly, as if I hadn’t tried to kill him the last time we met. Therese was as reserved as Akihito, her dark skin washed oddly pale bye the moonlight. And the fourth member, the woman with the round face and watchful black eyes, stood half-hidden under the shadows of a nearby tree.

That is Nergui, Daiman murmured to me.

Whatever had passed between us inside, it was gone now. Right now, he was a solid, comforting presence at my shoulder.

Right now, it felt like we were a team.

I turned my head slightly to let him know I was listening.

She is the newest member of the Coimeail, he explained. One hundred years old, perhaps, but no more than that. From Mongolia. You would be unwise to underestimate her.

I had no intention of doing so, especially not if she had already become one of the five most powerful people in the Separatist movement this young—but his words were still appreciated. I nodded a silent thank you.

And then I went on the offensive.

Because like hell was I letting them run this thing.

You said you would tell me what Terric was doing. I swept my eyes over the group. So?

The members of the Coimeail did not even look at one another. For all of Maggie’s uneasiness, this question had been anticipated.

There are two possibilities, Therese said. The wind off the sea blew her robes against her slim form. The first is that Terric is alone, seeking to finish the task he failed to complete many years ago.

Killing me, I said quietly. I wished she would speak plainly.

Yes and no. Akihito took up the explanation. Terric had long believed that magic such as yours should be eradicated from the world—a measure Fordwin had long suggested.

"Fordwin would never—" Daiman began hotly.

He did. I looked over at him sadly. I found some of his writings in the library at the Acadamh, remember? He said the only way to suppress dark magic was to kill the one who wielded it.

That stopped him dead. He looked between me and the Coimeail, his lips parted.

It was not that he had nothing to say, I could see. He had too much to say. There were too many questions.

And he didn’t want any of them answered.

For a moment, I wanted nothing more than to take him away from this place. Daiman had believed in the Acadamh without reserve … until my presence revealed its darkest secrets. I had seen his world unravel that day, and even though he was hanging on, how many more revelations could he take?

Because there were more. I was sure of it. No organization existed for 600 years without racking up some dirty secrets, and now that the first one had been revealed, the rest were all going to spill out.

But Daiman only looked down, away from me, and I knew he wasn’t going to leave.

I nodded at the Coimeail to continue. What we needed was the whole truth.

Maggie took up the explanation. Because Fordwin had supported him in this—and had already known you still lived—we thought perhaps Terric had taken shelter with him. She shook her head, her flaming red hair barely shining gold in the moonlight. "But even he does not know where Terric