Bright Blaze of Magic (Black Blade, #3)(33)
“What’s wrong?” Devon asked.
“This sword was one of the real black blades,” I said, swinging it back and forth. “But it doesn’t have any magic in it anymore.”
“But how is that possible?” Felix asked. “You didn’t stab yourself with it. Isn’t that the only way to get magic out of a black blade?”
Deah tilted her head to the side, studying me and the sword. “Maybe not. Maybe Lila used up all the magic without having to stab herself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your transference Talent lets you absorb and use any magic that you come into contact with, right?”
“Yeah . . .”
She shrugged. “So you’ve been holding on to that sword for more than an hour now. Maybe that’s all you needed to do to tap into the magic that was stored inside it.”
Even though I’d had a similar thought back at the restaurant, I still looked at the sword, unease slithering down my spine. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I’d thought that my transference Talent and the magic I stole with it only made me stronger. But when Katia Volkov had stabbed me, I’d discovered that I could also use the power I absorbed from others to heal myself. And now, I’d somehow sucked all the magic out of a black blade without even trying.
I’d always thought I understood exactly how my power worked and everything I could do with it, but now I was wondering if there was more to my transference Talent than I’d realized, the same way I’d wondered about paying the lochness toll at the bridge and what it might really mean to the creature. But I pushed my thoughts aside. Right now, I needed to focus on getting to the mansion and finding out what had happened there. Not this strange new ability I might or might not have.
I looked at the others. “We all know that things at the mansion are probably going to be bad. So just follow me, and stay as quiet as possible. Okay?”
My friends nodded back. I took the lead, and we left the parking lot behind and plunged into the forest.
The moon and stars were still shining in the night sky, but the thick canopy of leaves blocked out most of their light, and the way the branches arched up and merged together overhead made it seem like we were trudging through a dark cave instead of the middle of the woods. The clouds of mist from the waterfalls were particularly thick tonight, obscuring the landscape even further, but I welcomed the white blanket that cloaked everything, including us. If there were any Draconi guards in the woods tonight, they’d have a hard time spotting us.
We moved through the trees as quickly as possible, but we hadn’t gone far before I realized how absolutely quiet it was. No rockmunks scuttled through the underbrush, no tree trolls hopped from one branch to another, no bugs or birds of any sort darted through the air. Nothing moved or stirred, not even the wind.
It was quiet—too quiet.
The sort of too quiet that usually meant death.
My heart clenched, dreading what we were going to find at the mansion.
But we hadn’t even reached the grounds before we came across the first body.
It was a Sinclair guard, wearing a black cloak and matching cavalier hat. He was sprawled across the ground, clutching at an ugly stab wound in his stomach with one hand, his sword hanging slack in his other hand. I didn’t have to use my sight magic to see the blood that coated his body and blackened the leaves all around him.
“That’s Charlie,” Devon whispered in a sad voice. “He worked for the Family for more than ten years. He was a good guy.”
We all stared at the body. Devon sighed, then leaned down and gently closed Charlie’s open, sightless eyes. He straightened back up and his gaze locked with mine, all of his soul-crushing grief, stomach-churning fear, and sharp worry filling my heart as though they were my own emotions.
They definitely were tonight.
The closer we crept to the mansion, the more bodies we found, Sinclair and Draconi alike. My stomach knotted up. I wondered who had won in the end, if the Sinclairs had pushed Victor’s guards back or if the Draconis had wiped them out.
We were about to find out.
Finally, we reached the edge of the woods that ringed the mansion. Still being as quiet as possible, we crept forward, hunkered down behind some bushes, and peered around the branches.
No guards patrolled the outside of the mansion, although more bodies littered the lawn, both Sinclairs and Draconis. The coppery stench of blood filled the air, and flies and mosquitoes buzzed over the bodies in thick, grotesque black clouds. Beyond the lawn, lights blazed in practically every room in the mansion, but no one moved back and forth past the windows, and I didn’t hear any yells, shouts, or screams. Whatever had happened here, it was already over.
That cold fist of fear wrapped around my heart again as I worried about Oscar and Tiny. They’d both been in the mansion when we’d left, along with dozens of other people and pixies.
If Oscar and Tiny were hurt . . . if they’d been captured. . . if they’d been killed . . .
Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced myself to blink them back. If anything had happened to the pixie and the tortoise, I would never, ever forgive myself.
Because this was all my fault.
I should have realized that Victor wouldn’t wait forever to use those black blades and that the Family dinner was the perfect time for him to strike. Stealing the weapons hadn’t been enough, and I should have found a way to stop him completely. Now, people were dead—people I knew, respected, and cared about.