“Which makes this all the more intriguing,” his father said, sounding anything but intrigued. “Where are these new magics of yours coming from, I wonder? Do I have your new witch to thank for that, as well? I should have questioned the whore more closely when I encountered her the other night. Perhaps I can remedy that now.”
The voice changed in nearness, in volume, as those booted steps began wandering around Bones’s quarters. I heard a door slam open, and knew it must be the lavatory, just from where it was. It was the only other door in the room, apart from the exit.
“Come out, vixen!” his father called. “I have work for you. Paid work. I think you will find the terms much to your liking…”
The boot steps grew louder.
I heard cloth move, like he’d lifted up the sheets to look under the bed.
When his father spoke next, it sounded like he was right outside the door.
I could already feel my magic gearing up.
“I will be far more generous if you simply show yourself!” he said, his voice growing harder. “Only if you refuse me, or frustrate my patience, will you tempt me to treat you otherwise.”A faint scoff reached his words as the cane clicked on stone. “Ask my son just how much I enjoy skinning the filthy creatures he insists on rubbing all over his skin. You do not want to anger me, witch––”
He was yanking open the closet door as he spoke.
He cut himself off as he stared at me.
For some reason, I made no effort to hide myself.
I stood there, furious, the crystal still gripped in my hand.
“You,” he hissed, his eyes wide.
I stared up at the tall mage, his outline so like Caelum’s in the sunlight behind him. His long, raven-black hair was Caelum’s opposite, as were his silver eyes, which seemed to glow in the dark as he glared at me, but his features mirrored Caelum’s, too.
“I guess we won’t have to fetch the hybrid after all,” he said coldly.
Before I could open my mouth, Caelum appeared behind him.
His face was bloody, bruised, already swollen from the cane, his lips split. Blood trickled down the side of his jaw, sliding down his face from a long thread that started under his platinum hair. The hand he held up looked broken.
I saw the flames in his irises, the hardness of his expression, right before he unleashed a hard bolt of magical fire that blinded me completely.
37
Rage
The magic that left his fingers let out a sound like a peal of thunder inside the stone tower. It shook the walls, the floor, the ceiling. It made me light-headed, like it sucked every molecule of oxygen from the air, and filled it with electrical charge.
He aimed all of it at his father’s back.
I saw the fire flare behind his father’s outline as it hit, blindingly bright, so bright I couldn’t see anything but those silver eyes––
––then the magic ricocheted backwards.
Terror hit me, but there was absolutely nothing I could do.
That insanely strong bolt of magic slammed into Bones’s chest, flinging him backwards like he’d been hit with a swinging wrecking ball. He flew backwards so fast, I couldn’t even see him go. I glimpsed him briefly when he crashed into the far wall of his room. I couldn’t comprehend his face, the position of his body, his condition, or even exactly what had happened, not until he’d already fallen from the cracked stone.
My mind stopped.
I could only stand there, frozen.
I couldn’t suck in a breath, not even to scream.
For those few seconds I only stood there, shaking, fists clenched, begging him to move, to open his eyes, I was sure he was dead. He looked like half his bones were broken. Blood streaked the stone, and within seconds, his skin looked grey.
