Page 116 of Blood of Ancients

“Because that’s what fathersdo, you fucking idiot! They protect their young!”

My hand stopped inches from Magnus. A sharp exhale of breath stilled me. Kelvar’s words had been gruff, wrapped in pain.

Sven and Grim murmured something under their breaths, almost like a prayer to the gods—or a curse.

Magnus stopped shaking Kelvar. He stared down at him, aghast, confused. “W-What?”

The Whisperer grunted and kept his eyes closed. When he opened them, I saw the dewy gray pools in a new light.

Gray like Magnus’ eyes. A slightly different hue, yet their similarity was more apparent now than ever before.

“You lie,” Magnus croaked, his voice weak. “I did the research, Whisperer. My father was Fell McKordan. A man I never met.”

Kelvar let out a bloody chuckle, spitting a glob of red off to the side. His face was covered in sweat. I wondered how much longer he could hold on.

“The story’s l-long in telling, boy. Don’t suppose w-we’ve got the time for it, alas.”

My breaths were heavy, my chest ready to implode with grief for Magnus, for Arne. I had not had time to console Arne over the violence we’d just witnessed—hadn’t even formulated what I was going to say to him, what Icouldsay to him. I was at a loss.

Magnus kicked me into gear when he looked over his shoulder at me. “Silvermoon?”

The expression on his face was torn, grief warring with confusion warring with helplessness.

I’d never seen the bloodrender like this. Didn’t even know how to react at first, other than to furrow my brow and wonder,What canIdo? Why are you looking tome, Magnus?

Then it struck me. He was looking to me because I was his silvermoon, his shining beacon, and I was the only one he could look to for assistance in trying times. And that sincerity, thatneed, got my mind working, juices flowing. I recalled a time when Magnus had been injured from the bloodletting tests done to him by Tomekeeper Dahlia. The leechings.

I had given him my blood freely. It not only invigorated him, prompting me to ride the pierced man even on his recovery bed, but I later learned it helpedexpelthe poison in his bloodstream.

Somehow, my blood had rejuvenated Magnus Feldraug. Turned him potent, virile, and allowed him the strength to fight off his leechings next time, and to escape his bindings.

Magnus had special blood because he could use it to make his magic more powerful. The academy wanted to test that ability and weaponize it.

ButIhad special blood because I could use it to makehimmore powerful. His body, his vessel.

Abruptly, I went on my knees next to Magnus, crawling forward to loom over Kelvar. “I have an idea.”

I pulled out one of Kelvar’s wicked daggers from his tunic-sheath and nicked my palm. As blood welled and beaded, I hovered my hand over Kelvar’s wounded side.

He frowned up at me. “What are you d-doing, girl?”

“Way I look at it, Hersir, it’s not going to matter if I fail, because you’ll be dead anyway. But if it works . . . ?”

“Ifwhatworks?”

Magnus growled, “Just let her operate, old fool.”

“I th-thought the elf was the h-healer.”

Corym shook his head. “A gut wound like that? Surefire death, Whisperer. Even my capabilities are useless. Plus, I have nothing to work with here.”

“Grand,” Kelvar croaked, and finally gave me a begrudging nod when I pinned his eyes with mine.

I carefully moved his bloody palm and lifted the tunic of his shirt, showing a gaunt, pale body beneath. The stab wound was jagged and deep, coated in black veins, pumping thick red rivers and already looking like it was infected with dark magic. It had surely gone deep enough to strike his internal organs.

Hesitating, I chewed my lip, staring down. Wondering if I was making a horrible mistake.

“If you’re going to do it, d-do it!” Kelvar yelled.

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