Page 80 of An Archer's Reckoning

Quin held up his hands in surrender and laughed. “Yes, all of that.”

“We might actually survive this thing.” I absently ran my hands through my long, dingy hair.

My mind raced with ideas, with possibilities.

Just as my spirits began to soar with thoughts of survival and victory, a warmth tickled my chest, and my tunic turned from shimmering gold to a dark, putrid color. The Phoenix dulled to near invisibility. I ran a hand over its fabric as Quin stared thoughtfully.

Órla landed lightly on the table and spoke aloud for both men to hear. “Magic abhors being turned on itself. Declan, you are not simply bonded with me. Youaremagic. If you follow this path, I fear the price demanded may be more than you would wish to pay.”

My heart ached with guilt.

Using magic to harm another went against everything the Phoenix stood for. I tried to grasp lessons from my time on the island, to see my teacher, to hear . . .hervoice? I was so close to seeing those days in my mind, yet they remained elusive memories lost to time.

Still, I knew what Quin proposed to be wrong. It sounded wrong as he spoke. It felt wrong as I saw it play out in my mind’s eye.

“Price? What do you mean?”

“You have felt the price magic exacts when a Gift is used normally. You become fatigued, mentally, physically, spiritually. The level of fatigue deepens with the strength and duration of magic used.”

I nodded. “I’ve certainly felt wrung out after a day of practice.”

“You recover quickly with rest and food.” She paused, and I nodded. “However, using inverted magic drains the user’s life force. You might kill your opponent, but you would also be killing yourself.”

My brows rose, and a hand fled back into my hair. I leaned back and looked at Quin. He didn’t look surprised by Órla’s pronouncement.

“Is there any way to recover from that? Or to counter it, or strengthen a Mage?”

“There is none.” Quin shrugged. “A weak Mage might lose years of life with a single use. A powerful one, drawing on more of the currents, might die within days of inverted casting.”

No one spoke.

Órla tottered to settle against my arm.

My head ached at possibilities, and consequences.

Quin finally stood. “Get some rest. You can join the Mages’ Council tomorrow and learn more of our plans. I would appreciate a fresh pair of eyes. That goes for you, too, Órla. No one understands magic like its Daughter.”

“Did you hear that? You should listen to him more often.”

Chapter 28

Jess

Morning came too early. I struggled to sleep, my mind wrestling with images of my father’s lifeless eyes, then my brother as he screamed from a distant balcony. When my mind drifted to images of my mother, a whirlwind of emotions threatened to rip me open.

How could one person feel angry and sad and hurt and guiltyall at the same time?

Then there was Keelan.

The Guardsman’s strong façade couldn’t block his own internal turmoil. It was as clear as the winter skies above. In a strange way, seeing him struggle was comforting. I didn’t feel quite so alone in my grief.

Keelan looked up from his pallet to find me tending the fire. I caught the surprise on his face and offered a tight smile and shrug. “Even a queen can be useful sometimes. Did you sleep well?” I asked, more peace offering than question.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “I think there’s a rock growing in my back now, but it was otherwise all right. You?”

I stared into the fire as I poked at the embers. “It will get better someday. How is that?”

“It’s a step in the right direction.”

---