And when Somnus sees that, his threats turn to pleas for his life. He begs for mercy, screaming and thrashing. His power lashes out again, and the caster launching another attack at me drops into a dead sleep.
But Maven's dark magic once again deflects his attempt to stop her. I watch her whisper something to the immortal rightbefore she drives her adamantine dagger through his heart—and, simultaneously, through the totem.
He goes still immediately.
Gods above. Somnus DeLune is dead.
A small, practical part of me was dubious about Maven's knowledge and capability of bringing down the untouchable, centuries-old monsters who have been tyrannizing legacies, but now…
My awe is cut short. Everett cries out, and I whirl to see that he's pinned by the only wolf shifter remaining. It's clawed up his entire chest and is biting one of his arms, trying to rip it off. He's covered in blood as he blasts the animal away with ice using his other arm, but then he goes slack.
Damn it.Damn it.
They're all injured. Which one do I try to heal first? Who needs it the most? My head is pounding, and the ringing in my ears isn't going away.
Let them die.
They were going to betray you anyway.
Their blood will free you, little Crane.
"Silas!"
Maven's voice barely cuts through the encroaching madness, and when I look at her through the smoke and snow, the ringing in my ears softens ever so slightly. For a moment, I'm desperate to make out what she's shouting at me to do. She's motioning toward Everett, then toward Baelfire, and then?—
An elemental hireling tackles her and bursts into flames.
My keeper’s agonized scream pierces through everything in my head, shattering through my curse. My world is nothing but sharp, cold hysteria as I race toward her, throwing out spells to kill the elemental and extinguish the raging fire. Somewhere in the background, I can hear Baelfire roaring as a dragon again, and I know the fight is raging on, even if Crypt and Everett arestill down. I have no idea whether we're winning or losing right now.
But I don't care. Because when my magic douses the fire, and I drop to my knees beside Maven, she's burnt almost beyond recognition.
She's not breathing.
She's…going to die.
And if she dies this way, I'm going to lose her for good.
Without thinking, I begin chanting a healing incantation, drawing from the blood on my shoulder where the Undead bit me earlier. Red light glows around me, but nothing happens to Maven's motionless, smoking body.
Let her go, a voice in my head whispers.
You're useless to her anyway,my father's voice whispers.
She's dying, and your blood magic can't heal her. Useless boy.
My hands tremble, and I can't breathe as I crouch over her, my tears splashing and sizzling against her charred skin. For once, the voices are right. If my magic can't save her…then what is the point of it? Was I always meant to fail my keeper this way?
No. I refuse to lose her. If my blood magic can't help Maven, then it needs to change.
Ineed to change.
My heart thunders as my entire world narrows in on this moment. In the Garnet Wizard's library, there were many books forbidden to the rest of the world. But under his tutelage, no magical knowledge was off-limits to me. He was proud of my unparalleled gift for remembering countless spells, charms, hexes, incantations…
And amid those ancient tomes, I found spell books written in the language of the Nether, outlining the path to wielding death magic—the initiation, the sacrifice, the price.
I memorized those spells, too.
Which is why, when the blood magic fades around my fingertips, I squeeze my eyes shut and begin uttering the forbidden words. They taste acrid on my tongue, and a cold, greedy, malicious energy sweeps through me. It clings onto my existing magic, twisting it and reshaping everything I've ever learned. Everything I've ever been.
