Page 14 of Fate Promised

The man’s smile widened. “No mates, huh?” He studied her, then turned toward the vulk. His lips twisted. “This time, I won’t be tossed out of the way.” He turned to Juri. “Stay back, or I kill her.”

Juri’s eyes turned crimson, and his hands fisted, but he remained in place.

The man’s arm raised, and he muttered twisted, strange words. Chanting came from the woods, where black-cloaked figures stood at the edge of the verdant fog. The fog turned a deeper shade of green, and people along the beach slumped to the ground.

A great rending boomed across the beach like the earth itself yawned and groaned. Wind rushed, spitting sand.

Triska staggered, putting a hand over her eyes. She braced, expecting the man to blast her with more magic, but nothing happened.

She wiped the sand from her eyes and peered around her. Panting hard, his hand on his side as if he had a stitch, the man stared out across the ocean. “It’s there.”

She followed his gaze and saw a mass sitting in the bay. “What have you done?”

The man was ashen, his face thinner, but his eyes flashed, and green light flared in his palms. “Let’s take care of you and the vulk.”

The man whirled toward her right, flinging another ball of green. Triska raised her arms, and her magic surged, deflecting his attack, but she trembled, her body chilling.

The man stepped forward.

Her heart hammered so hard it felt like it pounded in her throat. She drew on the last dregs of her magic and swirled it back around her. Then she tossed it forward like a blanket to douse the man’s magic.

Juri leaped forward.

The man’s magic flashed toward Juri, hitting him square in the chest. Juri ground to a halt, snarling, a hand clutching at where he’d been hit. A sharp pain lanced through her chest in the same spot, and she staggered.

“Tsk, tsk, better stay back.” The necromancer focused on the rune, his eyes narrowing. He was panting harder, and his hand shook, “Let me do that again.”

No! First, he’d attacked her town, and now he wanted to attack Juri? Not a chance. The man’s magic was fading, the power fighting against hers weakening.

She gritted her teeth and poured more power into the light surrounding her, pushing it to reach up and surround the man.

It crept, inch by agonizing inch. A little farther …

Cold crept over her, the tips of her fingers turning numb.

The necromancer hissed. “What are you doing? Stop that.”

She fisted her hands and let her magic flow through her in one surge. It reached up and covered both the man … and the rune.

The symbol rotated and broke in half, one part shooting forward and crashing into her chest, exactly as it had when she was ten years old. Sparks erupted as her white light exploded, sending another powerful wave of magic out in front of her over the beach. The man screamed as he was lifted off his feet and backward into the mass of swirling air. And he disappeared.

A dark form wrapped its arms around her, tumbling them both to the ground. She braced herself, but instead of smashing into the sand, she landed on a warm chest. Arms tightened around her, holding her close. A heavenly scent of cedar, mixed with a touch of wild air, like the first blast of winter, swirled around her.

She drew back and looked up at the massive face. “Juri,” she whispered.

6

Juri sat up, cradling Triska in his lap. The scent of blackthorn blossom—her scent—surrounded him, and his pulse steadied. He didn’t release her as he scanned the beach. The fog was gone, and the smoke billowing up from the fires no longer held a greenish tinge. Villagers slumped to the sand, clutching their chests in the same way the hooded necromancer had after Hoyt drained him in the sewers.

Kyril stormed along the beach, scanning the crowd, his eyes red.

“Are we safe?” Triska asked. “Is that magicwielder gone?” She turned to fully face him. “What are you doing here?”

Her voice was pure and melodic, and he wanted her to keep talking so he could memorize every lilting tone. “He’s a necromancer named Hoyt, and yes, he’s gone for now. You blasted him pretty good.” No more sulfur dotted the air, only the brine of the sea. Juri kept Triska in his arms. His chest still tingled from where the symbol had hit him. Unlike when he was ten, and the symbol adhered to his chest, this time a feeling of joy … of bliss … washed over him, making his knees almost buckle.

Yet Hoyt had used their connection to try to kill Triska. Kill both of them. The blissful feeling cooled.

His chest still twinged as he stood, slowly dropping Triska to her feet. He swept sand off her arm and lifted his hand to remove a smudge from her cheek but lowered it again. “I’ve been tracking him for weeks, and he ended up here.” He scanned the bay and the now raging water. Thick fog had roiled all day, but now it was gone, and an island stood visible beyond the outermost tip of the rocks. From this distance, it appeared as a dot against the moonlit sky.

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