The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(86)

“Leave her be, Blue. We know the truth now. We should go.”

“It’s disrespectful.” Blue swallowed past the tears, the anger. “Leaving her like this. She should at least look like she’s at peace, instead of being discarded like she was nothing.”

She tried to fix Ana’s dress, to have it lie over her body gracefully like it would had she been given a proper burial. Something pricked Blue’s finger, and she drew back, shaking her hand as blood welled.

“All right. It’s all right.” Kellan sank to the ground beside her. “I’ll help.”

He gently combed Ana’s hair to lie neatly around her and then worked on smoothing her dress. Blue watched Ana’s face, a strange buzzing gathering in her blood and heading toward her hands.

She turned her head and stared at the gaping maw of the Wilds. At the gate and the threads of metal that held it closed.

A shadow detached itself from the darkness behind a clump of vines, and the buzzing within Blue became a scream of pain and power as a shimmering, smokelike human shape undulated closer. The dark pits where its eyes would have been were fixed on Blue.

The bells on the road behind them rustled gently, a soft melody that sounded like wind chimes. The wraith moved closer, and the bells rang faster, their clappers striking their iron sides with relentless fury. A wild, discordant song swirled into the air, filling Blue’s senses with rage and longing as she locked eyes with the wraith.

She needed to touch the monster. To press her skin to the gate and reach through it. The need was a craving—a powerful ache rising from some dark, unfathomable place within her—and it would not be denied. The monster would know pain then. It would know punishment for its heinous crimes. All she had to do was touch it. Her magic, usually an ember in her palm, was liquid fire in her veins. If she could just wrap her magic around the wraith, she could destroy the monster. She was sure of it.

“Blue, no!”

Kellan slammed into her, knocking her to the ground and wrapping himself around her. She blinked and stared around her in confusion.

When had she stood to her feet? Why had her hand been a breath away from the lock at the gate? She didn’t realize she’d actually been reaching for it.

The wraith opened its mouth and wailed, a scream of fury and anguish that scraped the air like a sword, blending with the bells, a storm of anguished rage trapped in its prison.

Kellan pulled back, his eyes wild. “What were you doing?”

“I don’t know!” She looked over his shoulder as the wraith rushed for the gate, its wail shaking the ground beneath her. “I don’t even remember standing up and moving toward the gate.”

“We’re leaving.” Kellan rolled them away from the gate and then climbed to his feet, keeping her hand securely in his.

She didn’t argue. She was shaking, and the magic in her blood was still hurling itself toward the wraith.

What did that mean? Was it just a response to another creature with magic? Or had Grand-mère suspected something like this might happen all along when she warned them not to touch the gate?

“You scared me more than any stupid risk I’ve ever taken,” Kellan said as they left the Wilds and entered the marsh again.

“I scared myself.” Her hands were still trembling.

Abruptly Kellan stopped walking and dragged her into his arms. Burying his face against her hair he said, “Promise me you’ll stay away from here. Forever.”

“I promise,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him and held on until the shaking stopped, the bells went still, and the wraith eventually fell silent.





THIRTY-FIVE


KELLAN WAS STILL shaken when he returned to the castle after dropping Blue off at the farmhouse. Even the knowledge that she was safe, that the wraith couldn’t break out of its prison and come for her, didn’t make him feel any better.

Children had been regularly sacrificed to feed the appetite of a monster. To keep it strong.

And Blue had nearly touched the gate. Nearly reached through it to where the wraith was waiting on the other side, its miserable pits for eyes focused solely on her.

A chill raced down his spine as the truth hit home. The wraith hadn’t looked at him once. Hadn’t acknowledged the guards with their swords. It only had eyes for Blue, and Blue had somehow only had eyes for it.

There was a mystery there that needed to be unraveled, but he wasn’t sure where to start.

And one look at his mother’s face when he entered the family’s wing of the castle told him he wasn’t going to have time to think about it.

“Where have you been?” she demanded, giving him a look that usually prompted him to start making amends even before he’d figured out just how much of his crimes she knew.

“I had something important to take care of.”

“Oh, did you?” Her brows rose, and he stilled his hands before he could reach up to adjust the collar of his shirt, which suddenly felt too tight.

“Yes. And you’ll be glad I did.” It was always best to sell his misdeeds as something that would benefit her. It didn’t always stop the sword from falling, but it often softened the blow.

“I’ll tell you what I’d be glad of.” She rose from the settee where she’d been waiting for him. The window at her back let in the rays of the dying sun, painting her tall profile in orange and crimson, like a warrior of fire.