The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(110)

The queen blanched, and Blue froze, her eyes wide as the wraith whirled to face Dinah.

“No!” Blue lunged for the wraith, tearing at its shroud as it lifted its arms to meet Dinah’s outstretched hands. The drop of blood on Dinah’s finger disappeared beneath the wraith’s bony limb, and for an instant, nothing happened. But then Dinah threw back her head, the cords of her neck standing out as she screamed in pain. The wraith shivered, its hand sizzling where it met Dinah’s, and then the two collided against each other with a thunderclap of power that reverberated throughout the ballroom. Dinah and the wraith fell on the floor in a heap, the wraith’s dark shroud settling over them like a tattered blanket.

Blue’s frantic gaze found Kellan’s. Behind her, the shroud shuddered, and then a single creature rose to its feet. It was Dinah, but not. The same dark hair, same sharp bones and pale skin. But her eyes were entirely black. Her fingers were long, skeletal things. And when she smiled, her teeth were double rows of fangs.

Kellan shuddered, horror crawling up the back of his throat like sickness. Dinah and Marielle the witch were one and the same.

“Look out!” he yelled as Dinah turned toward Blue.

Blue pivoted in time for Dinah’s fist to send her crashing to the floor. One of her dancing slippers flew off her foot and sailed under the dais.

Dinah laughed, a powerful swell of sound that grew and grew until it was a creature of teeth and fury battering those around it. Dust fell from the cracks in the walls, and the floor buckled. She threw her arms out, and magic swept the room in a tidal wave of force and fury. The windows shattered, glass exploding out onto the castle grounds. Every person in the room was knocked screaming to the floor, including the king.

Kellan landed beside his father. The king’s sword clattered to the ground, and the prince kicked it out of reach.

“Kill,” the king muttered.

“No. Father, please. It’s Kellan. It’s your son.” Kellan wrestled with his father as the king struggled to reach the sword. “You taught me how to swim, remember? You showed me how to eat a shirella in three bites, how to scale a wall, how to make Mother laugh. We used to picnic every weekend with the de la Cours. Please, remember. Remember.”

He brought his face close to his father’s as Dinah grabbed Blue and hauled her toward the dais. “You love us. You love me. You loved me so much you gave your life for mine.”

Kellan’s throat closed over the words, and he dug his fingers into the king’s tunic to keep him from reaching the sword while Blue turned to look at him one last time, her expression peaceful, though there was pain in her eyes.

She was saying good-bye, and there was still so much he had to tell her. So much he wanted to know.

“Swimming,” his father whispered. The hand that had been reaching for his sword stopped.

Kellan looked into the king’s eyes and found a glimmer of his father staring back.

“Kellan?”

“Yes.” Kellan pressed his forehead to his father’s for a moment. “Please let me go help Blue. I need to know that you won’t go after Nessa or Mother.”

“Can’t.”

Kellan pulled back to look at his father, his heart breaking at the torment on the king’s face.

“Controlled.” The king’s jaw clenched. “Can’t fight it. Kill me, son. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can’t kill you again.” The words ripped their way out of him, carrying the unbearable weight of years of grief and guilt.

“This is going to be fun, Adelene.” Dinah jerked Blue to her feet and wrapped her too-long fingers around Blue’s shoulders as they stood in front of the queen. “The king will kill you and your children. I’ll take the throne. And Blue here will be at my beck and call. Her blood will bond anything I want. There’s no spell, no potion off-limits to me now. As much as I’d love to stay and see your deaths with my own eyes, my sister is still an accomplished witch, and she’ll have ways of knowing about this if I stay too long.”

“Dinah—”

“I think you should start calling me by my real name.” Dinah’s smile stretched wide and triumphant. “Marielle, blood wraith of Balavata. Come along, Blue. You’re going to help me kill my sister.”

“No!” Kellan shouted as Marielle wrapped one hand around Blue’s arm and flung the other one out, sending a gust of power to knock any resistance out of her way.

Marielle dragged Blue toward the exit, pausing once to look at the king. “Kill them all,” she said, slamming a wave of magic into the king with a casual flick of her hand.

“Blue!” Kellan yelled, but it was too late. Marielle had already dragged Blue out of the ballroom.

“I chose,” the king whispered, his sword hand clenching into a fist. “Chose to save you.”

Kellan met his eyes and found love.

“Forgiven.” The king’s sword hand opened and strained toward the weapon. The love in his eyes dimmed to something dark and empty once more.

Kellan slid his hand over his father’s cheek as tears filled his eyes. “I love you,” he said quietly as his fingers found the thread right where Blue had said it would be. His chest tightened, grief pouring through him, and he gently pulled on it. The king shuddered, eyes rolling wildly in his head, and then as the thread came free, his body fell apart. Skin separated, muscle collapsed, and the black ooze that was his blood dried into brittle flakes until everything that bound him together disintegrated into dust.