Blood and Kisses(36)

She wiped her damp palms down her white, rope-girdled silk robe. Sleeveless, it crisscrossed her chest, in Grecian fashion. She’d always thought it looked like a nightgown. Heath was in the white robe mages usually wore which resembled a graduation gown. His bare toes appeared stubby in the shaggy rug. She curled her own in response to the thought, then inhaled and focused on feeling the earth through the layers beneath her.

Mina intoned several words in Latin she couldn’t hear through the thrumming in her ears, then the older woman used the first candle to light the two others on the altar. She gave the second candle to Thalia and the third to Heath. Thalia took up the chant, a plea for protection, the words so familiar to her she no longer needed think, concentrating instead on her intentions.

Together, they lit the four pillar candles representing the four directions while continuing to chant. A streamer of white light formed between the candles as each was lit, until a glowing square enveloped her and the other two witches.

Thalia took strength from the ritual, grounding herself and letting her nerves wash into the vastness of the universe. The spells asked of them would be simple, but it was their very simplicity that made them so difficult, requiring strong personal magic, intense concentration and plenty of practice. She possessed the last two. That would have to be enough.

Mina cleared her throat and spoke to the council. “The first challenge will be levitation, the second illusion, and the third transmutation. The fourth and final challenge will be done only if there is no decisive winner and will be a personal power spell.”

A personal power spell? Once again, Thalia shoved away feelings of panic. She could do this. All she had to do was win the first three challenges. No sweat.

Two younger mages wearing robes like Heath’s stood and brought ten-pound weights from the storage area under the stairs. They placed one weight in front of Thalia and one in front of Heath before retaking their seats.

Mina nodded to Heath. “Although Thalia is technically the challenger, I think it only fair as the former Champion she have the opportunity to go last.”

Heath’s mouth tightened and his lower lip jutted out a bit. “As you wish.”

The older woman waved a graceful hand in his direction. “Please begin.”

He sucked the inside of his cheeks and rolled up his sleeves, exposing tanned forearms covered with light brown hair. “Ascendere,” he commanded with an upward motion of his hands, his hazel eyes focused and intense. Yellow streaks of light emerged from his wide palms and wrapped around the weight, a molded turquoise dumbbell. It lifted into the air and hovered above Heath’s bald head. He lowered his hands and the compact dumbbell settled on the rug like a bird landing. His piercing gaze lit on Thalia, and then he yielded the floor with a swirl of his robe.

“Thalia.”

Heart beating like a over-wound clock, Thalia licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. Her gaze flicked to Gideon. He smiled. His obvious faith lent her a jolt of added determination. She would not let either of them down.

Her eyes returned to her target. Mind filled with a single focused thought, she gestured up with open palms. “Ascendere.” Blue light arced from her hands, and the dumbbell rose into the air. It hovered above her head and she, too, set it softly on the ground.

“Let it be acknowledged that both candidates have successfully levitated a ten-pound weight.” Mina waved to the mages who’d brought out the weights. They removed them and replaced them with fifty-pound weights.

Once again, Heath went first. “Ascendere.” The black disk levitated into the air and sank back to the floor with a tiny clunk.

Thalia’s turn. She inhaled as if about to dive. “Ascendere.” The disk flew up, paused, and then landed feather-light on the plush carpet. Thalia let out the breath she’d been holding in a rush.

And so it went, Thalia matching Heath at every increase in weight. Finally, after they’d each lifted five hundred pounds, Mina announced, “The final element of the levitation portion of the ritual will be the contestants’ choice, but must illustrate their ability to control the object they are lifting.”

The assistants had cleared away the weights and now a pitcher of water and a drinking glass were set on the altar. Heath straightened his robes. He took a deep breath and raised his hands. “Ascendere.”

The pitcher floated above the glass and tipped. A measure of water poured into the glass. Then the pitcher returned safely to the altar. Not a drop had been spilled. The audience, who until this point had watched in silence, whispered to each other, clearly impressed by this example of control.

When his turn was over, Heath pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his head, the first sign he felt any strain.

The glass and pitcher were removed, and a blank piece of paper and an uncapped, felt-tipped pen were brought out and set in their place. A murmur rippled through the circle.

Thalia licked her lips. This trick was risky, but she needed to pull out all the stops if she wanted to win. “Ascendere.” Her forehead creased, and she bit her lip in concentration.

Surrounded by ribbons of blue light, the pen lifted from the table and zeroed in on the paper. Every ounce of Thalia focused on control of the pen. The murmurs had died, and the scratch of the point moving purposefully across the paper was the only sound. Finally, Thalia laid the pen to rest on the table, praying her efforts had been good enough. Mina stepped forward and picked up the paper. She held it above her head. “It says, ‘I am the Champion.’”

During the exercise, Thalia had been too centered on forming each letter to take in the whole. Now her chest filled with pride as she acknowledged the precision of each letter. The sentence had the sure flow of something written by a careful hand. Mina showed it to each member of the council. They nodded in recognition of her feat.

The council left their seats and conferred in the corner for a moment. Thalia mentally crossed her fingers. She’d done all she could. The outcome was in the council’s hands now.

While they discussed the score, Thalia took stock of her condition. She’d expended a lot of energy, more than she usually did over the course of two days, but she didn’t feel fatigued.

She glanced over at Gideon. He inclined his head, eyes dark and glinting with approval. In fact, somehow, she felt energized, though not in the same way she’d felt when he’d fed her power during their earlier skirmish with the rogue.

The council retook their seats, and Mina walked back to the altar. “The council has declared Thalia the winner of the levitation portion of the competition. We will take a short break and resume in fifteen minutes.”

Heath’s heavy brows lowered over his eyes, and his expression was dour, but he said nothing.

Thalia repressed a smile. One challenge down. Two more to go.

But who knew how long this odd surge of energy would last. The feeling might simply be a side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through her due to what was at stake.

The first part of the challenge had taken almost an hour. She hoped the illusion portion would go faster.

The break seemed interminable, but at last Mina called the gathering back to order.

Once again, they started small.

Heath conjured a simple glamour, taking on the aspect of one of the other councilmen. Thalia followed by impersonating Mina. Heath created an illusion of a raging fire, complete with heavy smoke and searing heat.

Thalia thought for moment. She needed an illusion just as sensory. The memory of her and Gideon running though the pouring rain flashed into her mind and she almost smiled.

She raised her hands and fabricated a torrent of rain that felt cool and wet. It shushed down from the ceiling with a roar, soaked their clothes, and pooled on the floor, before evaporating as if it had never been, which of course it hadn’t.

Finally, Heath created a swarm of bees. They zoomed around the room, blanketing each council member in turn, en masse. The witches and mages of the council exchanged delighted glances at the intricacy of the illusion. The sensation of fragile wings beating, tiny legs crawling on their skin, the vibration of their buzzing.

Thalia conjured a flock of hummingbirds. They darted back and forth, their iridescent bodies shining jewel bright in the candlelight, their wings a blur. They were beautiful, and the witches and mages craned their heads to enjoy their quicksilver movements, but were they enough to impress the council?

They conferred once more.

At last, Mina declared, “Heath has won the illusion portion of the competition.”

Thalia closed her eyes as she heard the results, her chest heavy. She needed to win the next challenge or everything she’d worked for her whole life would be taken away.

For the transmutation section of the challenge, Mina placed several small objects on the altar, two buttons, two plastic combs, two common river pebbles.

Heath marched up to the altar and laid his workmanlike hands over one of the buttons. He lowered his eyelids, his brow furrowed, and he whispered under his breath, “Metamorphose.” There was a flash of canary yellow light. When he removed his hands, a ruby sparkled crimson on the snowy white cloth. He inclined his head mockingly at Thalia, a ‘beat that’ glint in his eyes.