The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(101)

The syphur weed and mink’s foot had dissolved, turning the oil into a thick brown liquid that smelled like death itself.

There was no way to know if the amount of liquid in the bowl was enough to kill the wraith, but it was certainly enough to take down at least four horses. Maybe more. She’d used far more generous amounts of each ingredient for this potion than she ever had when using them separately to make a spray for farmers to use to keep bugs and vermin away from their crops.

It was the strongest poison she could create. Two lethal doses bonded together with the strength of her blood. Now she just had to figure out a delivery system.

“Blue, someone’s in the house!” Lucian whispered from where he was balanced at the top of the ladder, the jar of acid poised over the doorknob. “I hear footsteps upstairs.”

Quickly, Blue poured the contents of the bowl into her last empty jar, corked it, and hurried toward the ladder. She’d figure out the delivery system once they were clear of the house.

“Get us out of here,” she said.

The acid sizzled against the doorknob, and the hot stench of melting iron filled the air. Soon, Lucian had the door open. The sounds of Halette and Jacinthe getting ready for the ball drifted down from upstairs as Blue and Lucian crept out of the root cellar. Blue grabbed the volshkyn leaf that had bonded with Dinah’s blood from the floor, and they tiptoed out the front door and began running.





FORTY-ONE


MOONLIGHT BATHED THE landscape in silvery light as Dinah stalked over the marshland that led to the Wilds, triumph a wicked flame inside her bones.

She’d spent the day in the de la Cours’ shop testing the spell’s ingredients. Figuring out which ratios made the most sense. And figuring out a counterspell strong enough to destroy the lock as long as she used Blue’s blood to bind the lock and the spell together. All those years studying to be a witch had paid off.

All this time, the answer to her problem had been standing right in front of her. She hadn’t known Blue’s family possessed magic, but now that she did, everything made sense.

Riva, that fickle witch, hadn’t had enough power on her own to defeat the wraith. She’d needed someone with a different sort of magic. Someone who could create unbreakable bonds.

Someone like Blue.

But Blue’s bonds weren’t unbreakable. Not if Blue’s blood was used against itself. Dinah had tried it out in the shop with extremely satisfactory results.

She kicked bones aside, sending a small corpse spinning down the hill as she approached the gate. The strands of silver, gold, and rose lead glittered in the moonlight, and Dinah’s smile stretched wide and feral as the wraith’s scream split the air.

Pulling the potion from her pocket, she carefully poured it over the lock. The metal sizzled and hissed, acrid smoke rising to sting Dinah’s eyes.

Sixteen years of waiting and planning. Sixteen long, torturous years pretending to adore the royal family who’d ordered the wraith’s destruction. Pretending to be satisfied with an ordinary life. With the fragile power that came from wealth and status. Power that could so easily disappear with a single wrong move.

The lock was melting, silver running into gold running into rose lead and bleeding down the iron bars of the gate. The wraith rushed forward, its scream turning from anguish to vicious anticipation as the iron cracked.

Dinah didn’t want power that could disappear. She didn’t want friendships with those who were afraid of magic. Afraid of strength and will and purpose.

She wanted to be limitless, and she was about to get her wish.

The gate shivered, its bars disintegrating into flakes that tumbled toward the forest floor like rivers of ash. The wraith fell silent, its arms reaching across the empty space where the gate had stood as the last of the iron dissolved and swirled into nothing. The ground shuddered, and a loud snapping sound echoed around the Wilds—a whiplash of magic that tore through the invisible cage that held the wraith back.

The creature rushed forward, colliding with Dinah, a shadow of terrible cold that clung to her skin and whispered against her bones. For one long instant, they held on to each other, the wraith’s mouth gaping wide as if it might sink its fangs into the source of its freedom, but then Dinah whispered, “We have work to do.”

Turning, Dinah walked out of the Wilds, across the marshland, and onto the road that led to Falaise de la Mer, the wraith floating silently beside her, while the bells along the road rang frantically. When they reached the crossroad that would lead them north toward the castle, set high on a distant hill and lit with fiery torches, the wraith turned toward it.

“Not yet,” Dinah said as the hunger that had hollowed her spirit for so many years howled for the vengeance it craved. “Tonight, the royal family and everyone in the city will be there for the ball, and I have a very special betrothal gift I’d like to bring the prince.”

The wraith hovered behind Dinah as they walked to the de la Cour farmhouse, moved silently across the property, and climbed down the steps carved into the side of the cliff. Before them, the Chrysós Sea was a vast, dark shadow sprinkled with starlight.

“Join me,” Dinah said.

The wraith floated against Dinah’s back as if hugging her from behind. Its black cape covered her, and its clawlike fingers rested on her own. Together, they walked into the sea.

The waves splashed against their knees, tugging at the cloak until it spread behind them like a pool of spilled ink. The vicious triumph burning in Dinah’s bones carved its way into her heart as she waded out to her waist, her arms spread wide, the wraith wrapped around her limbs as if they were one.