Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(105)

“P-power?”

“The tides have turned. This Accession, the Sorceri will rise once more. Thanks to the scythe.”

“How? What does that mean? Y-you said you couldn’t get my sorcery back from the weapon. That it was just a conduit to get powers up to the vault.”

“I lied. I wasn’t sure if this was possible at the time, and my style is to under-promise and over-deliver. But I’ve used my unparalleled abilities and the full force of my sorcery to—how do I put this?—reverse the flow. Only two virgins and a basket of puppies had to be sacrificed for the ritual.”

Bettina swallowed, hoping she was kidding. “You’ve stolen back all the Sorceri powers?”

“Naturally I’ve collected a few abilities for my own—a kind of tax on my subjects, as it were, for our defense. But most powers will be returned to their rightful owners.”

Bettina’s heart began to pound. Like this rightful owner?

“Incidentally, after I downloaded all those powers, I uploaded a nasty little spell for our Vrekener foes.”

“What kind of spell?”

“Let’s put it this way: the mighty? Oh, how they will fall. And that’s all I’ll say on the subject.”

Bettina didn’t care, her mind focused on one thing. “Am I to get my power back?”

“There’s something you must agree to first.”

She was about to cry, “Anything!” But then Bettina realized she was no longer that girl—the one who’d begged, the one who’d agreed to the tournament in the first place. “Tell me, Morgana.”

“You must never use this power against the Valkyries. At least not until after the Accession.”

“What? Why?”

“That Valkyrie soothsayer was the one who predicted the scythe would come into play in this tournament. She provided Raum and myself with inside information,” Morgana said, adding dryly, “though she neglected to mention that she was divining for both of us.”

A Valkyrie had been turning the crank? “The raven-haired one? But you hate the Valkyries.”

“Hate? Just because I secretly wanted them all dead? It was never personal.” She waved a hand, as if at a buzzing fly. “It seems the Sept of Sorceri are now siding with the good guys. Apparently, Team Vertas doesn’t mind that I’m evil. Once you’re queen of Abaddon, I suggest you align your kingdom accordingly, so my new Valkyrie besties and I don’t have to annihilate you.”

“Team Vertas,” Bettina repeatedly dumbly. She supposed it could be worse. The great Sabine and her new husband were allying with those “good guy” factions. “I agree to your condition.”

“Good. And now that we’ve taken care of the fine print”—Morgana’s hand started to emit light—“would you like to be made whole?”

Mouth gone dry, Bettina nodded. She wished Daciano were here to see this moment. She wished Cas were by her side. And Raum.

She gazed in Salem’s direction.

“Go on, Princess, get your heart-stopping on!”

As Bettina crossed to her, Morgana raised her hand, and more light boiled up from her palm. Heated air began to flutter around the sorceress’s body, her gold jewelry vibrating.

At once, a rare wind blew, rocking the spire, bursting open the balcony doors. Rain pelted the interior. The flame chandeliers hissed and died. The wind twisted inside the round room like a tornado, scattering sodden papers and silks.

“Are you ready?” Morgana queried over the din.

The air was heavy with magic; it pricked at Bettina’s skin. Her hair tossed in the wind. “I’m ready!” She inhaled deeply—

Morgana’s hand suddenly went dark. The wind died, the sorcery dissipated. “You know, I just remembered how you doubted me. It seems this tournament has been wonderful for you. But you complained incessantly about the minor details, like the countless deaths. Bitch, bitch, bitch—”

“Morgana!”

“Who’s your favorite godmother? Who’s the best sorceress in the entire Lore? Say it.”

With a roll of her eyes, Bettina muttered, “Morgana’s the best sorceress in the entire Lore.”

Mollified, her godmother said, “Then enjoy.” She shoved her palm against Bettina’s forehead. Fire seemed to leap from the sorceress’s hand. The wind howled once more.

Bettina’s body seized, her back arching, her limbs twisting. But Morgana held her aloft, pouring sorcery into her, as if into an empty vessel.

“Almost done, freakling. Almost . . .”

Levitating. Heat rushing. Bettina’s muscles knotted until she thought they would snap—

“There!” Morgana finished, releasing her at last.

Gasping breaths, Bettina clutched her godmother’s shoulder for balance. Is it back? Am I whole?

Salem laughed. “That was bloody brilliant, ladies! And oddly arousing. If I had a body, I’d be cock-up right now.”

Amber light filled Bettina’s palms. The excruciating emptiness she’d suffered had disappeared. Happiness bloomed, manifesting itself in swirls of sorcery all around her. “Oh, my gold. It’s . . . back.” She staggered before she found her footing.

Perhaps I have finally found my footing?

“Consider that a wedding gift.” Morgana smoothed her hair. “Now. What shall you wear for your nuptials tonight?”