Silverfall Read online

“We’re working on the assumption that a witch cursed a mage, right? That’s the story we all know. A mage and witch were feuding, as they always do.” She stopped to give Cory a reprimanding look, because he was willing to continue the feud, spurred by the need to be considered the superior of the two magic-wielders. I still didn’t understand the rivalry between witches and mages, or their distancing themselves from each other as if there were a stark difference in their magic—there wasn’t. Just different names for the same: a mage who could make spells and perform them with efficiency was called a spellcaster, a witch a spellweaver. The difference in what they did? Absolutely nothing. Daring to point that out only earned an unrequested history lesson about their origins, which were from the same god but different sisters. It was exhausting listening to it.

  Madison continued. “The mage Caspian took the feud too far and killed a witch while she was transformed.”

  “She’d taken on the form of a raven,” Cory offered. “Using a transformation spell. We know that. The witch cursed Caspian and his bloodline to never have magic without the penalty of death.”

  Raven Cursed. A line of mages who come from a cursed bloodline. Mages don’t claim us, so we might as well be our own denizen group.

  “This is where I feel there’s a piece missing,” Madison offered. “Everything we know about witches’ magic doesn’t support this. If the curse wasn’t done by a witch but by a Caste?” She looked at both of us in turn. “There were so many Caste until fifty years ago when the Immortalis started to kill them off. If the Caste can only do their curses as a coven, then there aren’t enough of them left to remove the curse.”

  Madison was back to pacing again. This had to be something she’d been working on since she found out about the Caste. How long had she wondered about this—about me? “Caste are the only ones who can remove their curses,” she said. “And their magic is archaic. Magic, like anything, evolves.”

  I looked away, not because of her hypothesis but because I wasn’t ready to tell her that my magic was different because I might not be Raven Cursed. I could be something different altogether.

  “Then that means it can never be removed?” It came out sounding more hopeless than I intended. I was fine trying to treat the symptom and not the problem, but I had been hopeful that Mystic Souls would remove it. Break the curse and make me whole.

  “I could be wrong. I’m sure I am. We just need to find something in the book that will do it.” Madison’s false optimism wasn’t fooling anyone. “If we can’t remove the curse, so what? If we can get you magic without you killing anyone, isn’t that what we want?”

  Giving her a smile, weighted by the knowledge that it might not work because of what and who I might really be, I said, “It’s what we want.”

  After an hour and a half, we were only a little less than a quarter of the way through the book, scrutinizing each spell to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Some wording was early modern English and some old English.

  We’d culled only four spells from that hour and a half of work.

  But just seeing the four spells lifted a heaviness that had burdened me. Whether the curse remained or not, at least we had found a way to circumvent it. There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Tomorrow, I could have my own magic without anyone ever having to die or be put in the state of in-between. Cory would no longer have to loan me his magic. Distracted by the prospect, I zoned out but was pulled back to the present when Madison coaxed the book from my hands.

  “I still can’t believe you have it,” she said, leafing through the pages.

  “Just for two weeks,” I reminded her. She closed the book, keeping one finger in it as a placeholder for a spell she had been returning to throughout the session. It was an earth restoration spell. As an earth fae, she destroyed flora whenever she borrowed from them. Although she didn’t seem to have a profound connection to the process, she had a look of discontent whenever she had to do it. I suspected that she, like me, was looking for a way to restore what she killed.

  Her thumb ran along the worn leather. It was supposed to be inconspicuous, but I noticed her lean in and inhale, basking in the magic that emanated from the book.

  “Asher got this for you?” she asked, her raised brow and tight lips showing her mistrust of him and the likelihood of him having used unscrupulous tactics to get hold of the book.

  “I’m placing my bets on theft,” Cory asserted.

  “Why would he steal it for me?”

  “I don’t think he stole it for you. He stole it just to see if he could. He loaned it to you to get off your crap-list, and I suspect he’s going to hire you for a job that is guaranteed to involve shady dealings.”

  “Now you’re just showing your biases against him,” I said, although there was doubtless some truth to his words.

  “Well, I have to admit, Asher’s reach is very long and quite impressive,” Madison said.

  “I’m sorry, Maddie.” Cory grinned at the dagger-sharp look she shot him for calling her Maddie. “You said ‘Asher is a thief’ incorrectly.”

  “How do you know he didn’t borrow it?” I challenged. I couldn’t believe I was defending Asher, although I said it in hope as much as in his defense. I hoped the book was borrowed and that if we weren’t able to get through all the spells, I’d have another opportunity with the book at a later time. Though I guess the same could be true if he had stolen it.

  A small smile settled on Madison’s lips as she listened to Cory and me debating the circumstances that led to Asher gaining possession of the book. Cory wasn’t ready to rule out theft. I had settled on it being an attempt to make amends for betraying me.

  “If he didn’t steal it, why didn’t he answer your question?” There was a rigid scowl on Cory’s face.

  “Let’s say that he stole—”

  “He did,” Cory interrupted. “No need to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “He allegedly stole it. We have it now and there’s nothing we can do about the alleged theft right now. Let’s just do the spells and return it to him, and it will be his problem.”

  Madison deliberated over the last few pages of the book, her face twisted in concentration. “I think I might be able to interpret these pages. It looks like Akkadian or close to it.”

  Cory sputtered. “Close to it. We’re dealing with a rare archaic book that most people believe is just a legend, and we’re going to wing a spell because it ‘seems like’ or is ‘close to’? Am I the only person who wants to be absolutely sure that we’re lifting a curse and not conjuring something that might have cataclysmic results? Like this one.” He took the book from Madison and flipped through a few pages to where he’d left pink Post-Its to mark spells we had no intention of trying.

  “This one’s worded nicely, but if you didn’t know Latin really well, you wouldn’t know that it’s a demon summoning spell.” He flipped a couple of pages. “This one here is a death spell.” He flipped to another in French. “A cursory glance at this one and it appears to bind you to the person who evokes the spell. Binding isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but the way this one reads, the person’s life force is used for the magic. Do the magic enough, and it’s certain death for the bound.”

  Cory spoke Spanish fluently and knew Italian and had picked up French from conversations between me and Madison in an effort to prevent us having our “secret” language. We all knew Latin well. If you were going to work with spells, it was a good language to know.

  After three hours we had culled all the spells that we felt confident we had translated properly. My tomorrow could look very different. Or it could be the same, I reminded myself. I needed to be realistic, but I couldn’t totally suppress the flush of optimism that kept rearing its head.

  Our search only yielded nine spells. Two were to remove the curse, and the other seven were to prevent a donor being placed in a death state and sharing their magic.

  “Borrow magic from me,” Madison suggested once the spells had b
een divided into the two groups. We’d decided to start with the ones we deemed the simplest and safest. Madison then directed her attention to Cory. “You’re a great spellweaver. If there are problems, you can intervene.”

  I’d never borrowed magic from Madison, and the thought of doing so felt heretical. Or maybe it was the ensuing guilt that would overcome me if the thought of keeping her magic crossed my mind even for a microsecond. It would, I knew. It did with Cory, despite my knowing I could never exchange his life for magic. My craving and need existed, and tamping it down was an ongoing struggle.

  Please let this work. I didn’t want this to ever be an issue again.

  My lips were gripped between my teeth, unwilling to commit to the idea, so instead of speaking, I simply nodded.

  We prepared all the ingredients for the spell, and Madison handed me an opaque-looking stone to boost my magic.

  “External sources of magic don’t work,” I said, reminded of a bounty, a vampire who had stolen an illegal magic object that gave him the ability to use magic. I hadn’t been able to use the magic.

  Madison tossed the stone aside, a weak smile lifting the corner of her lips. This was just another reminder of the complexity of my magic. If I were actually Malific’s daughter, Madison didn’t know half of the complexities. I pushed the idea aside. I wasn’t Malific’s daughter. I refused to believe it until I had more information. For now, it was just speculation.

  Madison lay down on the floor a few feet from me, waiting for me. It took several moments before I advanced and hovered a few inches from her, preparing to say the words of power, to divest the magic from her. But I hesitated. I couldn’t do it.

  After years of coveting it but resisting, it seemed so wrong to take it now that she was offering. I didn’t want to see her in any state of in-between. She’d taken too many risks for me.

  “She’ll be fine,” Cory whispered next to me. He raised his voice. “Won’t you, Sleeping Beauty?”

  Madison opened one eye. “It’s always fairytales with you,” she teased.

  “Sure, latch on to the fairytale part and not the compliment? Beauty. Nice.” He chuckled.

  “Thank you, Cory, for the wonderful compliment. Those are the words that will carry me for a lifetime and raise my spirit on down days. Brighten my days when the sun refuses to shine. Bring a smile to my lips each time I think of them. Oh, wonderful one, I appreciate the compliments you bestow on me.” Madison winked at me.

  “That’s more like it. How hard was that?” he said, flashing her a grin and placing a light kiss on her cheek. He was the only person who could get away with that.

  Madison shut her eyes again and I hovered a couple of inches from her, inhaling the gentle breeze of magic that wafted from her, earth and lilac. As I started to say the words of power my body tensed. Magic curled around me like a blanket. It felt so different than Cory’s, yet so familiar.

  We had debated on which spell to try and eventually settled on the one that seemed the easiest, in which she would keep her magic and not stay in-between. If the spell worked, she’d wake and we’d both have her magic.

  Not wanting her to be in-between for too long, I quickly went to Mystic Souls and did the invocation. The room became heavy with magic, a dull and gloomy pall filling the space. The temperature dropped so low, I could see my breath. Goosebumps formed along my arms. Dark and dolorous magic overtook me, and a sense of foreboding became an unbearable weight.

  Cory and I waited patiently for Madison to get up. But she didn’t. She no longer had the peaceful look she had just moments before. And her body became too rigid. Something was wrong.

  A trickle of blood ran down her face like tears, then a trail of blood came from her nose.

  “Bring her back!” Cory commanded. I said the words of power to return her magic. But nothing happened. Fear wrenched in me when I felt the tug in my chest that told me the person I borrowed magic from was slipping away to the other side. Madison would die and I would have her magic.

  I was killing her. I said the spell again with no success. I kept saying it over and over until my voice was raw and reedy. I tossed the Mystic Souls aside and pressed my lips to hers and said the words of power again. And again. Nothing.

  Out of reflex Cory started to administer CPR.

  “That won’t work,” I yelled. Again, I repeated the words of power, over and over like a prayer, my lips pressed so hard against hers the words were muffled. It was as if the proximity would give me more power. It didn’t. Her body was losing heat.

  “Say the spell again. Not your power words. Say the spell and add ‘Rescindo,’” Cory urged. Leaping up to get the book I’d tossed aside, I flipped to the page, taking little care when turning the pages. This book was dangerous. It should be destroyed. Every page should be ripped from it and set aflame.

  I said the words as quickly as I could. A sharp tide of air swept through the room. Madison lurched up, running her fingers over her face. There was horror in her eyes as she looked at her bloodied fingers.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice quivering, tears blurring my vision. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry . . .” I repeated it so many times my voice became rough and dry.

  “It’s okay.” I could tell she was trying to make her voice sprightlier than she felt. She kept blinking her eyes and wiping them until Cory gave her a damp cloth. When she was done Cory lifted her chin and examined her eyes.

  “How’s your vision?” he asked.

  She blinked several times until finally her eyes were clear. Cory took the damp cloth from her and softly blotted her face, removing all traces of blood.

  Finally he rested his forehead against hers. Madison was strangely calm, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit to keep me from panicking.

  “That’s not what I expected,” she eventually said.

  “That’s not what anyone expected,” I said, closing the book and putting it on the table.

  “Are we done?”

  “Of course we’re done. I . . . I don’t trust the spells in that book. That was the simplest one, and there’s no way I’ll put you or any of us through that again. I just won’t.”

  “That was one spell. One attempt. We should try again. Just one more.”

  “What if that’s the one that kills you? No. I can’t ask you to take that risk. I . . . I just can’t.” The blood tears streaming from her eyes, the trail of blood from her nose, and her lying lifeless in front of me flashed through my mind. It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t going to put her through that again, and it was heartbreaking that she wanted to do this to give me access to magic, change my life.

  “No, we’re done with it,” I said flatly. My hope died with the words. A few days ago, Mystic Souls was just one of my two options. Now, as I recalled the emotional distance Mephisto had put between us, I wasn’t sure if the other option remained.

  I looked from Madison to Mystic Souls, feeling the weight of despair settling back on me. I was back where I started. Now I needed to look for an alternative. There were always other options. I hoped.

  Cory and I were fearful of lingering side effects from the spell, but Madison didn’t hold the same concern and had to be urged to stay. When she finally agreed to spend the night, we ordered pizza.

  Cory and I munched on a meat lover’s with extra cheese, but I couldn’t help the eye roll I gave his salad. As if a bowl of lettuce could undo the damage our cheesy meat goodness had done to his diet. Cory split his attention between turning his nose up in derision at Madison’s cheese and black olives pizza and studying the Mystic Souls. He placed another sticky note as a placeholder in the book and closed it.

  “How is that even a food people eat?” he huffed out. Madison’s typical pizza order seemed to become more offensive each time she ordered it in his presence. It was very weird for him to have such a strong opinion about it, but Cory seemed insulted to his core by her culinary blasphemy. Madison simply locked eyes with him and took another large bite, causing h
im to cringe.

  “Are we really going to have this debate each time we order pizza?” Madison asked.

  “If he hasn’t stopped by now, he’s not going to. I’m not sure how black olives wronged him, but I wish they would apologize. We all have our quirks, and this is his.”

  “It’s not a quirk. Who wakes up one day and says, ‘I think I’ll mess up a cheese pizza by putting olives on it’?”

  Madison’s response was to take another bite, eating it slowly and obviously savoring it. With a sound of disgust Cory turned away and resumed studying Mystic Souls.

  “He’s so easy to rile,” she whispered.

  “I never thought olives would be such a controversial topic.”

  “It is when you’re doing it wrong!” Cory said.

  He mumbled a few more scathing remarks about the pizza before returning his attention to the book. I’d lost all interest in it, but Cory was curious to find a spell that would allow him to enter the Veil.

  “I think this spell will open it,” he announced. He read aloud. It seemed easy enough but so had the others.

  With the book in hand, he moved away from us into a corner.

  “Cory, don’t,” I pleaded.

  The set of his jaw was enough for me to know he wasn’t going to listen to reason. Curiosity and his desire to experience a world not available to many overrode logic. Or maybe he wanted to see the beautiful world I had described. I couldn’t blame him for wanting to get a glimpse.

  “Remember, Mephisto was guiding me when I did it.”

  “I’m not going to go in, I just want to see it. Just the opening, to know that it’s real.”

  “I told you it’s real. Isn’t that enough?”

  He huffed. “Fine. I want to see it, too.”

  He sorted through his bag of ingredients, pulling things out, while Madison and I gave each other sidelong looks.

  A golden flare of light briefly obscured our vision. A powerful gust of wind tore through the room, then a pale golden shimmer rose and fell. The scent of red currant misted the air. But after the initial display, there was nothing. The Veil never revealed itself. No bright new beautiful worlds came into our scope. Just moments of nothingness. But I’d take that over what happened earlier.