Westley doubled over. Try as he might, he was unable to bring his arm up to block the next swing.
Steel clashed against steel as Solveig stood over him, intercepting the mortal’s sword. Like he had seen her do thousands of times now, she ducked and dodged, a blur of motion that kept the mortals at bay.
She leveraged the two mortals against each other, and before long, she popped up behind the one who’d been about to kill him, dagger to the mortal’s throat.
“It’s quite embarrassing that you thick-headed mortals were able to steal our magic.” She slid the dagger to the thin cord at the mortal’s neck, slicing through it.
Solveig reached around with her other hand and yanked the stone out of the man’s shirt. Awe filled her eyes as she took in the nearly black hue of the rough-cut gem. “Blood Stones don’t have to be on your person to protect you—that’s why they’re so powerful. Everyone would need to wear one if that was the case.
“I’m sure you also know that the more blood a stone absorbs, the more powerful it becomes. But the price for this magic is steep.”
The mortals traded glances, confusion replacing some of the malice on their faces.
Solveig continued, buying Westley time to try and recover. “Magical objects used by non-magical beings always require a price—a heavy one. I’m guessing whoever gave this to you didn’t explain the finer details.” The mortals’ faces drained of colour, their confusion turning to dread. “Blood Stone magic is no different, and because of its great power, the price is uniquely cruel.
“You see, once I destroy the stone, anyone who offered their blood to it is not only no longer protected, but magic can never be wielded ontheir behalf again. It’s a one-time deal. Breaking the Blood Stone breaks all other magic gifted.”
“Even if that’s true, you can’t destroy it. Only magic can,” one of the mortals said warily.
Solveig’s eyes glinted with mischief and secrets. “Who said I don’t have magic?”
The mortals’ dread morphed into fear, and they tried to stop her. But she was too quick for them. Westley watched from his crumpled spot on the ground as Solveig held the stone in her palm.
Her lids closed and her chest rose and fell with three deep breaths. When she opened her eyes, they sparked with a flash of magic. Her palm grew shaky, but her intense focus held the stone. The current in the air changed and slowed as he took her in, her dark copper hair lifting with the static charge.
It was only moments, but the mortals began to laugh when nothing happened.
“You don’t have magi—”
A sudden flash of light escaped Solveig’s palm, blasting the two mortals backwards as the gem shattered into pieces, more blood pouring out than Westley would have thought possible.
The current of her magic washed over him, but it didn’t harm him as it had the mortals. His magic stirred, more potent as it flowed through his veins, and his pain began to subside. He tried to wield his magic, but there was still a barrier holding it captive beneath his skin.
His brief disappointment receded when Solveig stumbled. He tried to make his way to her, but the wound in his side was too great.
Solveig tried to catch her breath, blood still pouring like tears of crimson from the remnants of the stone.
The foolish mortals had not learned their lesson—they never did—and they regrouped and charged at Solveig.
Butwith their protection gone, they were no match for her, even in her exhausted state. She sliced through their stomachs with two expert swings of her sword, no mercy in her hard eyes.
One of the mortals stood behind her, ready to pounce, but she swung around so quickly his head found itself severed and rolling away from its body. The last mortal screamed and tried for another clumsy attack. His head joined that of his companion, his body crashing to the blood-soaked ground.
Screams echoed in the distance and Solveig rushed to Westley’s side, kneeling to examine the arrow.
“What, no jokes?” she asked as she inspected the wound.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he said, not bothering to keep the awe out of his voice.
“And you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
“Were you hit too?” He winced as she gripped the shaft of the arrow.
“No, why?”
“I heard your gasp of pain and you clutched your side, right here.” He weakly brought his hand up to touch the soft side of her torso. She shook her head.
“This is going to hurt.”
