Page 60 of Of Nine So Bold

Drawing a steadying breath, Byron began chanting in a low, barely audible voice. In only a moment, I felt the stirrings of his magic in the air.

Curiosity drew me a step closer to his work. His power was intriguing. Unquestionably Erenlian, yes, but closely aligned to the princess’s gifts as well. I’d felt the resonance of their abilities when I was aiding him in bringing her consciousness back from wherever that horrific spell had cast her. Indeed, I’d barely left his side during all those dreadful days when she lay unconscious, her body unable to be moved for fear of sending her once again into a seizure. So I’d had ample opportunity to study them both.

His determination and power throughout that terrible time had only increased my respect for him. If anyone could help this creature, I suspected it would be the scholar.

Continuing to whisper under his breath, Byron twisted his magic around the Huntsman, seeking an opening in the dark spellwork that gripped the burned man. In my mind’s eye, I tracked his progress. My years of training with monks in my home country had made my perception a matter of more than mere sight. The power wrapped around the Huntsman was like a scaly black ribbon, covering him from head to toe, impenetrable.

Or… almost.

Byron spotted the opening in the spell at the same moment I did. In my mind, I could see his gifts dive into the weak pointlike a needle made of light. The Huntsman lurched, and then his struggles against the demon pinning him to the ground ceased for a moment.

Satisfaction coiled inside me. Progress, then.

Never ceasing the spells he whispered under his breath, Byron watched the man intently. His eyes darted back and forth like he was reading a wealth of history from the ribbons of spellwork. What had been done, perhaps. What the man had suffered.

A low, rumbling growl started deep within the Huntsman’s chest.

Horror hit me. That wasn’t a growl.

That waslaughter.

“Got… you.”

A woman’s voice emerged from the Huntsman’s burned throat, her tone filled with contempt and glee.

“The queen,” Byron gasped. He stumbled as suddenly the thread of his power jerked deeper into the Huntsman, as if someone held the other end of a rope and was using it to drag him forward.

Gwyneira started toward him. “Byron?” Dex caught her before she could come closer. “What’s happening?”

Digging in his heels, the scholar fought to keep from being pulled toward the Huntsman. “Can’t… Trap.”

He lurched forward another step. Lars grabbed him as if to hold him back.

But the pull on his magic only grew stronger, making both men fight to keep their feet.

And then the princess cried out. Stumbling, only Ozias’s grip on her kept her from crashing to her knees.

“What the fuck is this?” Clay demanded.

My eyes flew between them all, my sight and my magical perception alike racing to track what was happening.

And my blood went cold.

In my mind’s eye, the light of the princess’s magic glowed bright. When we first met, her power had been so deeply under wraps, I hadn’t even perceived it, and had she not worn her diamond pendant marking her as a witch, I may never have even known. But with all she’d suffered and survived, her power had only grown, until now it was as brilliant as winter frost in sunlight, shimmering and radiant but with a ghost of a dark shadow twisting through its core.

But that wasn’t what froze me.

A radiant beam of her power stretched out, and it wasn’t alone. Another light was with it, bright like a star and recognizable too.

The scholar. Their two gifts met like a bridge, merging together so intricately, I would swear they were as close as any two people could be in this life or any other. I wouldn’t know where to begin in separating them, if I even could.

But that was the problem.

The trap inside the Huntsman was pulling on Byron’s gifts, trying to drain his power. But because of this beautiful, breathtaking connection between them, it would soon grab hold of the princess too. Even if it didn’t, to drain one of them would be to drain the other.

And kill them both.

Instinct born of years of training propelled my power to reach out quickly. I couldn’t fully see the shape of the trap within the Huntsman. But I could see the black ribbons on its surface that were trying to consume Byron’s power and absorb it into that horrible spell.

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