The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(39)
She snorted. “A ruse to get them to put extra guards around the best of the horse stock and leave you free to take one of the ponies and trade it for coin in the most questionable part of the Roche quarter. I don’t know what you wanted to spend the coin on—something your mother didn’t want you to have, obviously—but you never made it to the Roche quarter.”
He shook his head, admiration on his face. “No, I didn’t. Instead, there was a man waiting just outside the castle grounds with enough coin to buy the pony and make my friends and I feel rich until we spent it all on candy and fizzy cider. You did that?”
“Being the daughter of a shop owner has its perks. I knew our regular supply man could easily move the pony, and it was far safer for him to deal with the brokers than for the prince to be seen there.”
“You are far sneakier than I realized, Blue de la Cour.”
“Someone had to make sure the heir was alive to inherit the throne.”
“Not all the plans you ruined were my backup plans. Sometimes you got me in far more trouble than any of those plans were worth.” His brows drew together, but the warmth stayed in his eyes. “You were a thorn in my side.”
“I take my joy where I can find it.”
He grinned—that charming, easy Kellan grin she’d always thought was as shallow and useless as he was—and she found herself grinning back before she realized what was happening.
“I still don’t like you,” he said softly, his dark eyes on hers in a way that made her traitorous heart flutter again.
“I still don’t like you either,” she replied in a voice that sounded breathy and soft and very unlike herself.
“It seems I really do owe you my life,” he said quietly as he pulled her close enough that she could feel the heat from his chest against her cheek. Releasing one of her hands, he placed his finger beneath her chin and gently raised her face to his. “How will I ever make it up to you?”
Her foolish, treacherous heart whispered several very tantalizing ideas, and she locked eyes with him as her breath quickened.
Before she could close the distance between them and do the kind of monumentally stupid thing she could never take back, the pub door burst open and a man stumbled inside. Black flames danced along his skin, and agony twisted his face. Screams rose as he turned toward the bar, hoarsely calling for water.
Blue jerked away from Kellan as they whirled to face the door.
“Magic!” a woman cried, and the crowd of people stumbled over each other, trying desperately to put space between themselves and the man. The music jerked to a halt.
The flames writhed like shadows made of wet ink, and the man dropped to his knees, his voice hoarsely calling for someone to help. Blue watched in horror as the flames licked up his arms and twined themselves around his throat like a necklace made of snakes.
Screams echoed throughout the building as people pushed and shoved, trying to get to the door without coming close to the man and his flames. Kellan wrapped one hand firmly around Blue’s as people jostled against them and shouted, “Stop in the name of the queen!”
Obeying the prince was a reflex even the terror of magical black flames couldn’t overcome. The crowd froze for the blink of an eye, but that was all the time Kellan needed. “Barkeep, throw some water on that man. You can keep the counter between you to protect you from the flames.”
That was smart. Blue studied the inky fire, curiosity threading through her fear. Who knew how these flames would respond to water? Would they leap for another victim? Die out like regular fire? Or would the water make any impact at all?
“The rest of you quietly move toward the door,” Kellan said. “We don’t want anyone to be hurt while you exit the building.”
The crowd did as he asked, giving the man on the floor a wide berth as they headed for the door. The barkeep tossed a pitcher of water over the man’s head, but the flames barely flickered in response. The man crumpled to the ground, moaning in pain. The flames clung to him, devouring greedily. The harsh smell of burning flesh filled the air, and he wailed.
The crowd murmured fearfully as they moved toward the door. A woman opened it, took a step outside, and then shrieked in horror. “It’s everywhere! The whole street!”
Blue and Kellan fought their way to a front window as the crowd surged back inside, buzzing with terror. All along the street, pools of glistening shadow flickered like flames beneath the golden light of the braziers. There were people scattered about the sidewalk, writhing in agony as the black fire ate into them. In the middle of the street, a carriage was tipped on its side, its owner sprawled motionless while the horse tangled in the carriage’s traces shrieked as flames ate at its legs.
“What is this?” Kellan asked, horror in his eyes.
“It’s a spell. Has to be. If I can get close enough to the flames, maybe I can figure out what’s happening.”
He shot her a startled look even as he shouted once again for calm. Leaning close, he said, “You can understand magic like this?”
She shrugged, pulling her hand from his so she could move toward the man on fire. “Depends. If this is a spell, then it has ingredients. I know how to work with that. If it’s something else . . .”
If this was something else, then Blue had no idea what to do. The iron bells that hung throughout the Evrard quarter weren’t ringing, so they weren’t dealing with a fae monster. She couldn’t speculate further without gathering more information.