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

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.

“Let’s see how the queen and her children like choosing between death and losing a part of themselves.”

Throwing her head back, she plunged their joined hands into the water and said, “By the power of blood, bone, and spirit, I command you to give up your dead.”

The wraith opened its mouth and wailed, its magic unleashed in a tidal wave of unstoppable strength. The sound was a soft, haunting melody that grew, swelling into a scream of terrible power that shook the ground and struck the sea like a hammer.

The waters bubbled and churned, the currents shifting until they tore a path between the wraith and a distant point in the sea, just under the far horizon.

“Come to me,” Dinah commanded.

The water at the horizon rushed forward along the path, carrying with it a skeletal shape that rode the wave like the figurehead on a boat. When it reached Dinah, the water stopped, swirling away from them in frothy eddies and leaving the skeleton standing silent and still before them.

Dinah and the wraith lifted their hands and touched the skeleton’s breastbone.

“Take your form, draw your breath, and answer only to me,” Dinah said.

The wraith exhaled, a long rush of blood-scented air that wafted over the skeleton, scouring its bones from head to toe.

For a long moment, nothing happened, but then the skeleton jerked forward, its movements spasmodic and uncontrolled as muscle, veins, blood, and skin spun into being over its bones. It knit together, one limb at a time, until finally the last piece of skin settled onto its face. Its dark eyes flew open, and Dinah was staring into the face of Queen Adelene’s departed husband, King Talbot.

Dinah laughed, triumphant and wild, as the king turned to her. She smiled.

“Welcome back to the world, Your Majesty. Or should I say, the remnant of Your Majesty? Not that it matters. Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed. You have a ball to attend.”

“A . . . ball?” The remnant’s voice was thick and uncertain.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to dance.”

“What will I have . . . to do?”

The wraith swirled around Dinah, wailing its victory while Dinah said softly, “You will kill your wife and your children.”





FORTY-TWO

“WHERE ARE WE going?” Lucian asked as Blue turned toward the garden instead of the road.

“My grandmother’s house.”

“Why?” He kept pace easily with her, his long legs eating up the distance.

Blue clutched the jar of poison to her chest and prayed Dinah and the wraith weren’t outside. “Because she can keep you safe.”

And maybe she could help Blue figure out how to poison the wraith.

“What about you?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine.” Blue launched herself out of the garden and into the orchard.

She’d be fine, but she shouldn’t be. Dinah was furious with Blue’s family as well. She’d killed Papa to get control over the farmhouse and the shop so that she could find the spell. Once she had the spell, she ought to have killed Blue too.