The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(113)
“There was plenty of proof if you’d simply gone to the Wilds instead of hiding away here in your cottage while she continued to hurt innocents.” Blue’s voice rose. “You knew she was still in the city. You knew she was wicked—”
“I cut the wicked part out of her!” Riva cried, her cheeks flushing.
“There is no part of her that isn’t wicked!” Blue lunged toward Riva, but the wraith’s grip held her back. “She killed my papa. My friend Ana. Countless children. I stepped on their bones! I saw the carnage. And then she pulled the king’s body from the sea and brought him back to life just enough to send him to the castle to kill his children. And all of that happened because you decided to separate part of her from her magic instead of letting her be caged like she deserved.”
“This is charming. It really is.” Marielle moved toward Riva. “I do love seeing someone hate you nearly as much as I do, sister dear. But I’m afraid I have people to kill and a throne to take, so it’s time for you to go ahead and die.”
Riva’s wand swished, and a jet of pale yellow light flashed from its tip. Marielle laughed as flames caught on her cloak and spread. With a wave of her hand, the flames coiled themselves around her arm, a snake of fire with its head pointed at Riva.
“Blue, a drop of blood if you please.” The wraith’s fingers curled into claws around Blue’s arm. “I think we’ll see what happens when we bond fire to a witch.”
Blue laughed, a little forced, a little desperate, her mind racing to come up with a way to keep Marielle from using her blood. “I thought you were the invincible, all-powerful blood wraith. And yet you can’t even kill a harmless little witch without my help.”
The wraith’s black eyes turned toward Blue, and it gnashed its teeth at her. “I can kill anyone without help. Including every single little street brat you hold so dear. Shall I start with them next? Or would you rather I make a visit to your grandmother’s cottage first?”
Movement flashed out of the corner of Blue’s eye, and she turned just as Riva collided with her, breaking the wraith’s hold on her. The witch stood between Blue and her sister, her wand raised, her voice trembling as she said, “Run, child.”
Another pale light shot from the wand and exploded into a hail of spiders that crawled over the wraith’s skin and poured down her nose, ears, and mouth. The wraith threw the fire snake at Riva as it staggered back, choking on spiders.
The fire hit Riva, wrapped around her, and ate into her skin. Blue whirled and ran onto the porch, where she’d last seen Nessa, but the weathered gray boards were empty. Frantically, Blue scanned the garden, but it was silent and still. She turned back to the cottage as Riva doused herself with a water pitcher. The wraith stood tall, her skin shuddering as she opened her mouth and wailed, a terrible gust of air that flew out of her, filled with spiders and magic.
Blue was thrown off the porch and onto a bed of lavender. Scrambling to her feet, she hissed, “Nessa? Nessa!”
The garden was silent.
“I should have just let you die!” Riva’s voice rose.
Blue crept up the steps again, her heart in her throat as she came to the doorway. Riva crouched, her back to the door, her skin seared and her hair smoking. Her trembling hand clutched her wand. Marielle faced her, both hands raised, magic shimmering between her outstretched palms like a translucent storm of power. And behind Marielle, a narrow wooden chair clutched in her hands, was Nessa.
“That’s always been your problem, sister. You could never stomach doing what needed to be done.” Marielle locked eyes with her sister.
Riva muttered something, and the tip of her wand glowed.
Blue rushed through the door, aiming for the wraith, as Nessa swung the chair over her head like an ax, slamming it into Marielle’s back.
A spell erupted from the wand and struck Marielle as she whirled to face Nessa. Thorny vines spread rapidly along Marielle’s back, wrapped around her body, and sank barbs into her skin. The chair landed on the floor in pieces.
And Marielle, her palms still cradling the storm of magic, slammed her hands together.
The storm exploded outward—a silvery-clear pulse of magic that tore through the cottage, blew out the windows, and sent Blue hurtling through the door.
She landed on her back in the same bed of lavender, and all the air left her body. Frantically, she tried to ease the fist that had wrapped around her lungs as the cottage creaked and tilted, cracks running along its walls. She had to get up. Get to Nessa.
A thin wheeze of air flowed into Blue’s lungs, and she struggled to her feet. Dread was a shroud of stone wrapped around her as she mounted the steps once more and saw Nessa held tightly in the wraith’s grasp while Riva lay in an awkwardly crumpled heap on the floor.
“You’re supposed to be dead.” The wraith spat the words at Nessa, its black eyes blazing with fury.
So are you. Nessa was bleeding from her ears, and there were bruises blooming on her face, but she was alive, and Blue had to keep her that way.
A thud sounded behind Blue, and distantly she thought she heard Kellan’s voice shouting, but all her attention was focused on Nessa. The princess squirmed in the wraith’s grasp, clawing at the hands that held her, terror in her eyes.
Blue ran into the cottage.
The wraith opened its mouth wide, double rows of jagged teeth gleaming, and Nessa screamed, a high, thin wail that tapered off abruptly as the wraith sank its teeth into her shoulder.