Dread fills my heart. There are only three drops of the potion. None can be wasted.
My hands are trembling. Exhaustion. Burnout. Magical overstrain. All battling with each other to ruin my day the most. I reach for a small glass vial of blue, syrupy potion that I purchased from Nora’s apothecary a few months back. It will steady my nerves, but my fingers are too weak to twist the top off.
“Here.” Jinx takes the calming elixir from me, opening it easily. She fills a dropper, the magic glinting cerulean in the light. My familiar looks at me with those steady, slitted feline eyes. “How many drops?”
I eye the elixir, my unsteady hands, then Lucas’ antidote in the small bowl. “Four.”
Jinx’s eyes narrow. “Your heart could slow to a stop with four. Two.”
I roll my eyes. “Then why ask?”
“Why be difficult? Kneel.”
I try to bend my knees, but my legs give out. My hands slam on the workstation to keep from falling. With a groan, I lower myself to the floor. I tilt my head back and open my mouth like a little baby bird.
The draft is sickly sweet and oozes uncomfortably down my throat. I click my dry tongue to clear the flavor, nose scrunching. The effects are immediate. The worst of my trembling dissipates, but my gut clenches painfully, curling my shoulders in to ease the tightness. Synthetic magic is rough on the body like that. Jinx was right. Any more and I’d be writhing on the ground at the minimum, comatose or dead at the worst.
With a critical eye, I hold out my hand. It’s still, but I don’t feel steady. I’m going to flinch and miss. I just know it. But with the way Jinx glares at me, there’s no way I’m getting a drop more of the calming potion. Sweat turns my palms clammy and my gaze slides to Lucas.
Jinx’s eyes roll. “For fuck’s sake, get up before he dies.”
The looming threat gives me the strength to find my feet. I roll my shoulders, cracking my neck, then my wrists, and my fingers. “Okay.” The book of Creation floats over to hover before me. “Okay.” I swallow and take a breath. “O?—”
“If you say ‘okay’ a third time, I’m going to slap you again,” Jinx growls, blue eyes slitting.
I nod numbly. The fear of failure nearly cripples me, but I push it away. I already practiced the spell, over and over, until my pronunciation was perfect. No one can incant like I can. My old room was festooned with ribbons from competitions, and my father looked slightly proud when others complimented him on my performance.
My brother rarely placed. Not with Valen competing for the same medals, and especially not with his sister, Emilia, giving them both a run for their money.
I give Lucas’ too-still body another once-over. I won then. I’ll win again.
My eyes snap up to Jinx. “You’ll need to hold him down.”
Jinx deftly mounts the table, straddling Lucas’ hips and pinning his shoulders. “Like this?”
“More.” Carefully, I scoop up the small bowl containing the antidote and withdraw a fresh dropper. “He cannot flinch. One drop per puncture, and then in the mouth.” My voice cracks. “He’ll writhe.”
Jinx grips Lucas with bruising force. “Ready.”
I take a steadying breath, standing at the top of the table behind Lucas’ head. The two open punctures from the spider’s fangs sit side by side below his collarbone and are still raw and glistening, like his body is unable to begin healing.
The ancient words flow from my lips, my tongue and throat perfectly blending them with my magic. The air sizzles, the books stilling. Sweet and heady aromas fill the space. My eyes warm as they begin to glow green. The antidote hums in response, the magnificence of Creation’s glow intensifying. I draw up all the liquid into the dropper.
“Stencia.” Release.
A single drop lands in the center of the first puncture. It sizzles, and an acrid stench burns my nose. Lucas recoils.
Jinx throws her strength into him, immobilizing his shoulder with a grunt.
I draw in breath. “Stencia.”
The second drop plops into the other puncture. Lucas’ eyes snap open and I look down into the all-black depths instead of the familiar warm golden brown. I nearly stammer, but manage to hold onto the humming flow of incantation. Alasdair,naked and bleeding on the cold stone floor of the Archweaver archives, opened his eyes only once while I was cursing him. His Androclaria green eyes were gone, replaced by a matte black that consumed the whites of his eyes. The same darkness that fills Lucas’ eyes now.
I don’t allow myself the luxury to react. There is no room for error and I shove all memories of my brother away and focus on the task before me. I must save him. There is no other acceptable outcome.
The air is swirling, loose strands tickling my neck. Then Lucas screams.
Only my mastery over magic and my body keeps me from flinching at the unholy sound. My ears ring and then ache, buzzing out from the high pitch. He doesn’t stop. Lucas keeps screaming and screaming. He bucks wildly, but Jinx does not permit more. Bruises are forming under her grip as she jacks his head back. He thrashes, breaking out of her hold for a moment.
