Faerie Blood: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Changeling Chronicles Book 1) (30 page)

BOOK: Faerie Blood: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Changeling Chronicles Book 1)
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Like hell would I let this poser get his hands on it. Whether he wanted to conquer our world or not was irrelevant. He wanted my power: then I’d use it to burn him.

“Your world will yield to ours,” he said softly. “Summer and Winter might think they have your fragile mortal plane under their spell, but we are stronger than they know. With Avakis’s power, I will take these lands back under my control.”

“Huh. So you want to conquer this shithole, is that it?” I glared at him. “What was all that about promising immortality to the half-faeries?”

“A king needs an army, doesn’t he?”

“You’re deluded.” Avakis’s armour fit the faerie perfectly, but he was still a stranger to me. The blade sheathed at his waist gleamed with silvery light. An ash blade. “You aren’t Avakis. You’re not even a pale imitation, and I’m not afraid of you.”

Avakis had spent three years tormenting me. Three years of ghosts had haunted me, but I’d still prevailed. This faerie might have stolen Avakis’s armour, but he was nobody. A stranger I didn’t care to know.

Velkas hissed between his teeth. “Do you challenge me, then, mortal?”

Do you challenge me?
Faeries couldn’t just hand over their magic to one another. It had to be stolen. Or ripped from their enemy’s decomposing corpse.

“Yes,” I said, my voice ringing through the clearing. “When I win, I get to escape, and take any mortals you have imprisoned here with me.”

The faerie lord bared his teeth. “You have too high an opinion of yourself. If you defeat me, you get to live.”

Figures.
“Fine. Let me guess. If you win, you get to take my magic and get to use it to take over the world.”

“Why stop with your world?” His eyes gleamed. “Even Summer will learn to serve me.”

“You were exiled for a reason,” I said, taking a mental note—
he’s from Summer.
That meant he’d wield some form of Summer magic. “And I’ve no intention of serving anyone. Ever.”

I couldn’t believe I’d ever found a faerie’s smile attractive. His lips pulled back from his teeth in a feral manner. Then he transformed.

Fangs sprouted and claws lengthened, biting into the earthen ground. Fur grew all over his head, which hunched over as his body expanded into the monstrous form of a hellhound. Four giant paws padded towards me. His voice was still fey. “Then die.”

He lunged.

Hellhounds? Seriously?
His teeth snapped, and I jumped, blade flashing. There must be a catch, because I could kill hellhounds in my sleep.

My sword carved into his neck—but he’d vanished.

That, too, was a classic faerie trick. I’d been dead right when I’d thought he was no match for Avakis. Defeating
him
had almost destroyed me. An invisible hellhound was hardly the most intimidating of Faerie’s creatures I’d faced. I kept quiet, listening out for the telltale sound of its footsteps.

Magic crashed over me like a fountain, smothering my body and trapping the breath in my lungs. I gasped, arms flailing, trying to see through the green haze obscuring my vision.
What the hell is this?
I might have said I was drowning, but my breath still came, albeit painfully. Like drowning, but being deprived of something other than air.

Like magic.

Oh. Shit.

I searched for the power that never failed to leap to my defence when faeries attacked me—and found nothing but suffocating blankness.

Calm down.
My sword remained in my hands, a reassuring weight. So he could somehow dampen my magic. That didn’t mean I couldn’t win. I had other spells, besides. Speaking of… my pockets felt suspiciously light.

I scanned the trees. When nothing appeared, I inched my hand into my pocket for an explosive spell. Dust covered my hand, and when I pulled it out, black and grey fragments scattered on the ground.

Crap. He’d taken out all my spells and my faerie magic, in half a second. And I couldn’t even
see
the enemy.

That’s what I got for complacency.

I just had my sword. My best asset. I scanned the trees, but saw no signs of disturbance. He was too clever. I’d have to go by instinct.

He couldn’t have permanently taken away my magic. It was mine, even if I’d been too scared to really consider what it could do. Even now, I only used it defensively. But there must be a way. I was in Faerie. The magic was from here. I’d taken it from Avakis’s corpse not five minutes from here.

Before I could move, a cascade of leaves swept up and caught me, whipping me against a tree. I grimaced as I landed on my feet, struggling to stay upright as the wind hit me with a force that bent the tree in two.

The leaves flew up again, spinning in a whirlwind. I screamed for real this time, the leaves whirling and slicing in a red dervish. I held my arms tight to myself, feeling blood soaking into my shirt.
Come on, magic. I need you.

What had Vance said? I used magic defensively. Now, I needed to go on the offensive.

The wind kicked up, and another scream tore from my throat. I’d have fallen, but the whirlwind held me in place like I was flying, falling endlessly. My clothes whipped around me, and even the daggers sheathed all over my body were torn free. Only the sword in my hands remained solid, and it took every remaining ounce of strength I possessed to hang onto it. My arms, held to protect my face, stung like a thousand hornets attacked me. My face was wet with blood and tears.
Magic—come on.

Blue light burned before my eyes, causing me to raise my arms again to shield myself from the glare. The stabbing pain of the movement almost made me pass out, and it took several seconds to realise the wind had died down.

Or something blocked it.

I chanced a look up. Leaves still obscured the view, but some kind of forcefield blocked the way. A pale blue divide between me and the slicing, cutting wind.

Magic.

A fresh surge of energy numbed my arms. Before my eyes, glyphs swirled to life on my arms and hands, and the pain numbed to a familiar tingling. Like a healing spell.

Blood still dampened my arms, but the pain had gone, like it never existed. The magical forcefield remained between me and the whirling leaves, though the wind had slowed. Like the faerie had realised I’d blocked his attack.

The hellhound beast appeared with a snarl, slamming its paws on the ground. I bared my teeth at it, and the magical barrier fell.

My blade flashed out with the enhanced speed from the magic. From
my
magic. The hellhound fell with a pained noise as blood poured from its neck. I drove it away, but with every step, resistance pushed me back. A shimmer in the air told me the faerie had a magical forcefield of its own. As the blood from its neck stopped flowing, the hellhound vanished.

The warrior that appeared in its place looked tired, but furious, silver eyes ablaze. “How dare you strike me.”

He pulled out his own blade. The ash tree sword, gleaming in the moonlight now filtering through the canopy. I hadn’t been aware day had switched to night, but time obeyed its own rules here in Faerie.

Shit. I need to finish this fast.
Or else I’d lose ten years again.

The faerie struck, and ash met iron, shaking my whole body. Apparently, the wooden blade wasn’t vulnerable to iron. I attempted to pull the sword back—one touch would be enough to incapacitate him—but couldn’t move.

Faerie magic thrummed around me, blue smoke swirling in and out of my arms. It couldn’t work with the blade—iron and faerie magic were incompatible. I’d have to fight with one or the other.

Magic gave me speed to match the faerie’s own, locking us in a deadly dance of metal on wood, blade on blade. The faerie’s eyes went wide as I gained ground, driving it back, step by step.

“Give up,” I snarled, pushing against his blade. I ought to have sliced it in two by now, but he’d plainly enhanced it with magic.

“You don’t have the right to use Avakis’s magic,” he said. “You aren’t one of the Lords of the Grey Vale.”

“No one ever said life was fair.”

The faerie’s sword pushed against mine. Yeah, he’d definitely enhanced the weapon. I fought to remain in place, to keep pushing, but I was tiring, and he wasn’t.

“Human,” hissed the faerie. “You’re weak. You don’t understand how our magic works.”

Blue tendrils swirled around me, intertwining with green tendrils that seemed to come from the faerie’s sword. My own blade faltered, and my hands trembled.
No.
Sure, he was supernaturally strong, but so was I. I ought to be moving as fast as he was. The magic was still there.

Along with
his
magic. Those green strands tugging at my hands—though I couldn’t feel them, they linked my hands with his weapon. As his magic pulsed brighter, a wave of exhaustion swept over me, and my blade dropped.

Holy shit.
He’s draining my energy.

“Summer still serves me, human,” he said. I glared at him, sweat dripping down my face. My legs bent at the knees, wanting to fold over and collapse. My sword felt too heavy to lift.

Summer. Summer fed on life energy. He’d been a powerful Summer Lord, if he could drain the life from me. Like Avakis had once fed on pain and suffering.

His magic is mine.

I felt for the strands of blue smoke still present, though smothered by Velkas’s own magic. His blade moved towards my neck, and I desperately tried to raise my hands. It was like trying to move a car with my bare hands, but inch by inch, I managed to raise the end of my blade to block his.

It wasn’t enough. In seconds, he’d push me aside and cut my throat, as I had Avakis’s.

And he’d take the former Winter Lord’s magic for himself.

The same magic swirling around me, even now. It fed on hopelessness and despair. I knew it now. Winter magic, by design, gained strength from death, or from dying. From pain. Up until today, my memory had been a blank from the moment I’d fled Avakis’s home to the second I tumbled out into the mortal world. But now I knew how I’d got out. The limitless pain of myself, of all his captives, had given me enough power to tear open a way back.

The spirits were still here—in some sense, at least. Maybe because we were so close to Death.

Panic lanced through me as Velkas kicked Irene out of my hands so hard, the momentum sent me crashing onto my back. Magic swirled before my eyes. Blue and green intertwined. Blue was mine. Winter. Magic that fed on death.

Was
Death
where I’d drawn the power from?

The ash blade stabbed at my face. I twisted over, survival winning out over crushing exhaustion, but not for long. He’d taken too much from me already, and green streams of energy continued to flow between me and his weapon.
Hey. Stop that.
I pushed at the blue streams now flowing from my palms, and the twin energy streams actually knocked his aside.

I wasn’t holding the iron blade any longer—and iron was poisonous to faeries. To faerie magic, too? I’d never even considered it. But this was the only option left.

I splayed my hands, and this time, magic answered. Like it had been waiting there the whole time.
Velkas hissed out a furious breath as the magic knocked him back.
I used it as a weapon.
The blue streams of energy still pouring from my hands looked unwieldy, but I’d watched faeries use Winter magic enough times to know how it worked.

I recalled how I’d escaped. The pain and fear that had flooded me, giving me the strength to run, to find a way home.

I knew my own pain, still raw after all these years. I’d blocked it out, moved on, but here it lingered, in the place where nothing and nobody truly died.

My palms glowed blue, glyphs appearing and snaking across my skin as the pain and anger flooded me.

This time it didn’t overpower me. It enhanced me, pushed me to draw on every screaming second of misery spent in this place. The past couldn’t hurt me anymore. It only gave me strength.

I took all the raging magic and made it my weapon.

Magic overflowed from my fingertips, struck the faerie full in the chest and knocked him aside. The ash blade dropped to his side, his mouth parted in shock. The wound was deadly, but wouldn’t be fatal. Not here.

I knelt and picked up Irene. The magic faded from my hands, but I was already lunging forward.

My blade brushed against his neck. Then I stabbed.

Blood spurted in a blue-red fountain, and the faerie’s eyes turned glassy, blank. I staggered, exhaustion overpowering me again. The pain and anger lived on, pulsing in the air. Pain I’d never really forget. But that didn’t mean I’d let it rule me.

I couldn’t see the children. They might still be in Death. Once I got them out, I’d close the way back.

This time, I barely had to blink and blue smoke turned grey. A face appeared before mine, semi-transparent, as my pain and exhaustion faded into the background.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Here.” I looked over my shoulder. The clearing had disappeared.
Whoa.
Was it because the magic was stronger, the layers between the worlds weakening? Or was
my
magic stronger, now that I knew how to use it? “Are there mortal children here? I want to take them back home. You let me pass before."

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