Master and Apprentice (23 page)

The energy point glowed like a beacon behind my eyelids, a warm and pulsating red. Part of me wondered why I could see so much better without actually looking, while the rest carried on channeling the spell through the red light. The usual searing pain that accompanied all my attempts at magic lessened and left my thoughts clear. I had no trouble drawing the spell through myself, guiding it through my chest and arms. I could feel skin coming together and knitting itself whole.

I pulled back and opened my eyes. “Holy hell.”

Calvin stared at me. “Holy hell, indeed,” he said. “You learn quickly, Donatti.”

“Something like that.” I cleared my throat and turned aside. This little exercise brought up a whole new wave of questions.

But before I could ask any of them, I was plunged abruptly back into the Ian Horror Show.

Burning. No flames, no smoke, but his body was burning all the same. There were too many broken bones to count. The wisp of consciousness Ian had left repeated two words in an uneven stream:
Kill me kill me killmekillmekillme kill. me. Killme.

A cold shock doused the fire and awakened new pain—saltwater on open wounds. Swollen eyelids pried apart to reveal a blurred sliver, a glimpse of a hood. Cracked and bleeding lips parted in a snarl.

“Rayan.”
Calvin’s voice, mocking and cruel. “We have a task for you.”

“Khalyn … fool.” Raw sound, barely forming words. “I will do nothing. For you.”

Vaelyn laughed and didn’t correct the mistaken identity. Of course she wouldn’t. This hurt him more. “It is a small matter. We desire a child of royal blood, and you will impregnate one of our choosing. In two days’ time you will begin.”

“Will not touch … Morai whore.”

“Your reward will be your destruction.”

I felt him consider it, beg for it in silence.
Please destroy me. Please.
“You cannot.”

Another laugh. “We know who holds your tether. It will be delivered to us when he comes for you. And he will come.”

No. Donatti …
A shudder wracked him.

“When the time arrives, you will give. Or we will take, and take, and take for all eternity, and you will live in agony while your seed burns this realm into oblivion.”

White-hot pain exploded in his wrists and ankles, his head. His screams drove me out.

I opened my eyes with a gasp. Cold stone floor beneath me. Calvin hovering above me, his face pinched with concern. “I can hear them,” I said. “And I don’t think they know.”
The storm outside the cave slacked off while the one inside raged on.

“I won’t help you,” Calvin said again. “You pulled me from the fire, and I thank you for that, but I would have survived. And you’re still his apprentice. Still a murdering thief.” He paused for a breath. “As for Gahiji-an, I believe you humans have stated my feelings for him best. I wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire.”

“He is on fire, you son of a bitch.” My hands clenched and unclenched, longing to crack his jaw. I considered putting a bullet in him for shits and giggles. Hell, like he said, he’d survive. “Your freak show of a sister likes her flame curses. All you Morai do.”

“All Morai are not the same!”

“I thought that for a few minutes. But you’re changing my mind.”

He whirled on me. “All right, apprentice. Let’s play your master’s game.” A cold smile settled on his face. “Give me a reason. Why should I help you?”

“Because—” Damn. I couldn’t think of one. Technically, he didn’t owe me anything except half a pint of blood, and I didn’t want that back. He didn’t know me, didn’t know Ian or Tory, and apparently didn’t care what his sister did as long as she left him out of it. I shuffled back through the last few torturous days and seized on the one thing he’d seemed interested in. “Your scion theories,” I said. “Whatever they are. You can test them.”

“With you?” He managed to make
you
sound like
the most disgusting creature to have plagued the earth since Attila the Hun.

“Yeah, with me. I don’t see any other scions volunteering for the job.”

It took him a minute to reply. “Tempting, but no.”

“Why not?”

“Many reasons. Not the least of which is the trifling matter of your tendency to kill any Morai you come across.”

“I haven’t killed you. Yet.”

“And there you go proving my point.”

I stifled a breath that would’ve been a scream. “Fine.” I’d have to try the subtle approach. Unfortunately, I possessed all the subtlety of a goon with a pipe wrench. “Can you at least tell me about your theories?”

He shrugged and looked away, but not before I caught the gleam in his eyes.

“Come on, I’m curious. Why is it interesting that I can use healing magic?”

“Because it’s not instinctive, except to the Bahari. Transformation is instinct, but that type of healing is basically a side effect of shifting form.” His sigh suggested he’d just lost some internal battle. “You’re a Dehbei scion. You shouldn’t have been able to heal anyone before you learned how it worked—and even once you knew, it should have been harder than it was for you just now.”

“So why could I do it before, then?”

“I don’t know. However, it does fit with my theory.” “And that’d be?”

He frowned. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Why? Do you really think I’m going to learn this big secret and then destroy you or something?”

“Yes.”

His soft, drawn tone sent a shock through me. That wasn’t sarcasm. He was actually afraid of me. Me, the bumbling idiot who’d been a half step away from getting myself and Ian killed a hundred times in the past year, who could barely squash a spider
without an ocean’s worth of guilt, who’d probably obliterated half of my own soul because every time my hand was forced and I had to kill or be killed, a piece of me died with my victim.

For the first time, I considered what I must have seemed to him—Ian’s partner in slaughter, his willing trainee. The mad prince’s lackey. The Slayer’s apprentice. Nausea knotted my gut, and I drew a deep breath to try and ease it. “Look, man,” I said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I hate destroying anyone, human or djinn. I never wanted any of this. But with your clan trying to kill me and Ian every time I turn around, and the whole
ham’tari
thing, it’s been hard to get around.”

His eyes widened a bit. “What
ham’tari
… thing?”

“You don’t know?” I held back a minute, not sure why I’d thought it was common knowledge to the djinn. But it made sense that it wasn’t. Obviously, it was a dirty spell, and that bastard Kemosiri wouldn’t have bragged about using it. Ian probably didn’t want anyone to know either. He’d only told me to make me stop nagging him about destroying Calvin. But if telling him would convince him to help me get Ian the hell out of the compound, I’d risk Ian’s eternal bitching and moaning. “I’m not entirely clear on everything,” I said slowly. “Basically, Kemosiri—you know who he is, right?”

Calvin made a disgusted sound. Yeah, he knew.

“So Kemosiri laid this curse on Ian’s father to force him to wipe out the Morai. His father was killed, and the curse got passed on to Ian. And since I’m his descendant, I get echoes of it. I’ve had shitty luck all my life. I guess it’s because of the
ham’tari.
” I looked at my feet, suddenly feeling like I was stuck in a confessional booth with glass walls. “The only time things have gone right for me was after I met Ian, when we started going after your clan together. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. But if Ian dies, I get the whole curse. And I have a son.”

I waited. Calvin didn’t say anything. His expression had gone blank.

“Don’t you get it?” I said. “Come on. You’ve seen it yourself. I pulled you from a fire and got struck by lightning. That wasn’t God. It was the damned curse.”

He frowned. “That was definitely unusual.”

“No shit. And besides,” I said, “I don’t think I could hurt you even if I wanted to. You’re two thousand years old. I’m just a watered-down descendant, ten times removed.”

“You have more power than you realize.”

I snorted. “Yeah. You should see what I can do with a sneaker.”

“You don’t understand.” With a tired gesture, Calvin sat on the nearest rock. “Djinn grow more powerful as we age, but our life spans are a bit longer than yours. And our magic is drawn from the djinn realm. We are limited here, weakened by our tethers and the spells that bind us to them.” He looked at me. “I believe the reverse holds for scions.”

“I don’t get it.”

“The power still builds with time,” he said. “But because human lives are shorter, it builds along the line of descent, rather than the individual. Each generation of scion has greater potential power than the last.”

I started to laugh that idea off. But then I remembered Cy, and how he could control his invisibility already. At three years old. I didn’t recall much of my childhood, but I knew the nuns at the orphanage would’ve burned me at the stake or something if I’d ever vanished in front of them. “Okay. I might buy that,” I said. “But why are your sister’s goons so much stronger than me? I mean, they’ve gotta be first generation, second at best.”

“Because magic adapts. The power of the early generations, the first scions who are direct children of a djinn and a human,
still comes largely from the source tied to the djinn realm. And those with Vaelyn have been trained to use it by a djinn, one who, regrettably, knows almost as much as I do about how our magic works.” A pained expression crossed his face. “But later generations—your generation—are almost entirely dependent on earth magic. The further along you are in the line of descent, the more power you draw from this realm. From the earth itself.”

“Uh-huh. You know, most people would disagree that there’s any magic on earth. Outside of Disney World and the Bermuda Triangle, that is.”

“There is power here. Vast, untapped power. Humans have forgotten how to use it.” He flashed a small smile. “When we first came to your realm, magic was embraced. There were human sorcerers then, with talent and skill that rivaled our own.”

“Oh, Christ. Sorry,” I said. “Ian tried to feed me this line. Merlin and Rasputin and shit. Urban legends.”

Calvin’s brow lifted. “Most legends begin in fact. Anyway, this handful of black sorcerers, along with the actions of my so-called brothers, served to make humans fear magic. The world turned away from it, and it was forgotten. That’s why later-generation scions have trouble accessing their power. For you, wielding djinn magic is difficult. Painful. Am I correct?”

“You could say that.”

He nodded. “But learn to use earth magic, to tap into the power your brothers have turned from, and you will equal—or even exceed—the power of a djinn in your realm. You in particular, apprentice.”

“Yeah, sure. Pull the other one and we can play ‘Jingle Bells.’ ”

“Don’t you see? You’re Dehbei. Not only are you a late-generation scion, born to this world untethered and pulling
from the magic of your own realm, but your djinn strengths are already earth based. Your potential is … well, frankly, it’s frightening.”

“Wait a minute.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, afraid they might start shaking. “Are you saying I actually have a chance against these assholes? That I can get Ian and Tory out of there and survive?”

“You might. With the proper training.”

“Then train me.”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t think I should do that.”

“Please. Jesus—I mean jeepers. Whatever. Look, what they’re doing to him makes the Spanish Inquisition look like a bunch of Boy Scouts. God … er, heaven knows what they’re doing to Tory. I can’t destroy Ian. I don’t
want
to destroy him. Yes, he’s a bastard, but he has reasons. You know what they are.” I stopped for a breath and wondered briefly what Ian would think if he knew I was begging a Morai for help. Probably something like
I will tear your limbs off, blasted thief.
“They murdered his wife. They’re cutting him to ribbons. And your sister’s planning to make him father a child with her.”

“Yes. Which means she’ll continue to hunt me. She needs me to perform the
ba’isis.
”

“Then we avoid them for a few days. You train me, I go in and get them. And your sister leaves you alone.”

A deep frown etched his lips. “She’ll be expecting you to come for him. She probably wants you to, so she can use you to further command his obedience.”

“Yeah, she said as much. But she won’t be expecting me to know what I’m doing when I get there. She thinks I’m weak. And she doesn’t know I can spy on her.” A chill jolted my spine. I didn’t exactly enjoy the spying method. Maybe Ian wouldn’t think about me over the next few days.

And maybe Vaelyn would call off the whole torture thing and sit Ian down for a nice chat over milk and cookies.

Calvin propped his elbows on his knees and stared at me over steepled fingers, like a principal considering the best punishment for a wayward child. Finally, he said, “Very well, apprentice. I’ll teach you what I can. But should I believe you intend to destroy me, I reserve the right to defend myself.”

“Thank you.”

I refused to think further than the next few days. Get Ian and Tory out. I had to concentrate on that. After they were safe, we could worry about the next problem—which was the tiny matter of Vaelyn, who sure as hell wasn’t going to say
Oh, well, back to the drawing board
when she lost her favorite torture victim.

And since they shared a tether, we couldn’t destroy her without destroying Calvin too.

I
took my jacket off and folded it. “Are you sure I have to do this?”

“Yes. The fastest way for you to learn your power is to discover the source.”

“But do I have to take all my clothes off ?”

Calvin smirked. “You can leave your underwear.”

“Gee. Thanks.” If he was messing with me, it didn’t show. Much. I rolled my eyes and kicked free of my shoes, yanked my vest and shirt off, and did the rest before I could lose my nerve. At least I’d put on clean underwear before I left the house and got caught in a downpour. I rubbed at the goose pimples on my arms and hopped from foot to foot. “It’s kinda cold in here. Is that fireball of yours hot?”