Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(97)



She caught Nismae’s eye, and one of the streaks of blood painted on her face lit up with magic. With growing horror I watched it glow more and more brightly, saw Ina begin to distinguish reality from illusion. Perhaps I had underestimated Nismae’s skill and power. She seemed to be using the strength of Ina’s fire magic to give more power to the enchantments she’d set with my blood.

With an unfamiliar gift like Ina’s, there was no way to know how much energy she’d have left to use against the king. How deep did that well run? Would I be able to help him enough to hold them off? And did I even want to after what he’d done? I tried to tell myself that anything I did had to be for the best of the kingdom, but if I was honest with myself, all I wanted was the Fatestone and my family. I wanted to take them, run, and never look back.

The moment Ina locked eyes with the real Raisa, she and Nismae pulled the next of my tricks. In a way that was sickeningly familiar, she began to unthread the magic that held Raisa together. I felt it keenly as she reached in, absorbing the power from Raisa and winding its threads into her own until she glowed more and more brightly in my Sight.

Watching someone else do it, knowing the gift had been bestowed with my blood, made my stomach turn inside out. At least Leozoar had asked to die.

As Raisa weakened, so did the illusions, vanishing one by one. The psychological torment must have quieted too, because soon Ina was rising, arching her neck, drinking in Raisa’s magic like it was water. She didn’t even bother going for blood. The audience had already seen enough of that.

Raisa screamed as her body was stolen from her again, aging back into its previous form and then further, until her skin shrank over her bones, her eyes became empty sockets, and then her bare skeleton crumbled into dust.

Ina roared in triumph, kicking Raisa’s ashes into the sky, and then making another lap of the ring. The crowd screamed, still on their feet.

The time had come for Ina to face the king.

The time had come for me to enter the battle in his support.

At this point, it was the last thing I wanted to do.





CHAPTER 37


THE CROWD TOOK THEIR SEATS BUT RAGED ON AS INA retreated into the challenger’s quarters for her final preparations. I descended from the audience and hovered near the king’s entrance to the coliseum, my nerves jangling as I waited for Ina to return. Cold wind battered me, making the red cloak whip around my ankles.

Ina emerged still in dragon form, her face painted even more ornately, the enchantments so bright she was hard to look at with my Sight. Then a familiar shape moved into place beside Nismae: Hal. A jolt ran through me, equal parts relief and desperation. What was he doing still over there? I needed to tell him what the king had done. I wanted the security of his hand in mine.

The people of Zumorda cheered as their king entered the arena, perhaps for him, or perhaps for the hope of his blood being spilled. I was no longer sure which I hoped for. The dragon’s eyes narrowed when she saw the bloody armor, and then she glanced to where I stood. This wasn’t something she’d expected. Her surprise was satisfying, but no match for my despair. I’d helped my betrayer, and it was too late to turn back now. If I did, the kingdom would be destroyed, and there was no guarantee I could get the Fatestone from Ina if she won.

I had no doubt Nismae would be more than happy to claim the Fatestone as proof of her revenge on the king. And even if she handed it over, my powers would drain away along with the magic as it left Zumorda. I’d have to flee to Havemont, where the gods would still be worshipped and nothing had been done to upset the order of their kingdom.

Ina reached for the magic of the king’s life force immediately, attempting to rend it into pieces. She tugged at it as if to snap the neck of a small animal. I felt her magic pulling at me, too, but it was easy enough to push it off. The king’s enchantments held strong, and the magic slipped away from her. She couldn’t use my powers against a person enchanted the same way—especially with me at his back.

The king was slow, but calculating. Ina was fast and filled with fury. Few sounds made it above the shouts of the crowd—the awful sound of teeth on metal when Ina landed a strike, then her roar as he shocked her with lightning that burst from his fingertips, borrowed from the storm clouds brewing on the horizon. Ina retreated, head low, tail whipping.

I felt every jolt of magic, even the fierce shocks as he drew on the powers of all six gods.

The king advanced. I saw him try to draw on her magic as she had attempted with him, but the power slipped away. Though she was bigger, he was more experienced at using magic. He also had the gods on his side, and Ina had only Nismae.

The king took his boar form and charged across the coliseum. The crowd roared incoherently, their screams a demand for blood.

Ina didn’t keep them waiting.

She lunged toward him, breathing a storm of fire into the face of the boar. He waited, unperturbed as the flames scudded around a magic shield he threw up as though it was nothing. What he didn’t realize was how Ina had closed in behind the fire until she stood only a pace away from him. The moment the flames subsided and he dropped his shield, she snapped for his neck. He tore away with a squeal and her jaws closed around his shoulder instead. He struck back immediately, attempting to gore her with a tusk.

I trembled as they fought, unable to do anything to help with the physical aspect of the battle, but still feeling the king’s pain resonate through me. Ina whirled out of reach and reared up on her haunches, never taking her eyes off her prey. The crowd stomped its approval until the earth felt as though it might split in half. In some of the rows near the front, people had begun passing around a container of carmine, painting their cheeks to match the streaks of my blood on Ina’s face.

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