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I frown. “That sounds prophetic.”

“Agreed,” he replies with a grimace. “But Heph said he was an original fallen angel, so whatever you have inside you is powerful.”

Pulling away from Bastien, I turn to look out over the pond. The water is clear with rose colored sparkles on the surface. I focus inward to evaluate the pleasant buzz of magic that pumps in my veins. I look for any shred of darkness that could be lurking, but I don’t feel anything strange at all. “How do I use it?”

“Heph says we can attempt to summon Amell and ask.”

I whirl around to Bastien, and I can tell by the look on his face he hates the idea. But I can also tell he’s not going to argue with me if I agree.

“Let’s do it,” I say without hesitation. I came here prepared to learn blood magic. To do whatever it takes to defeat Ferelith.

This is no different.

“I thought you’d say that, so I’ve got Heph gathering what he needs. He’ll be out here in a moment.”

I nod and nibble on my fingernail, a horrible habit I succumb to when I have way too much spinning in my brain. I think this is the right thing to do. Bastien would prohibit it if it wasn’t. I truly don’t see any other way, and I need to make things right.

“Your mother did the best she could,” Bastien says as he pulls my hand away from my mouth, and my eyes fly to his. “Don’t spend any energy holding this against her.”

I take stock of my feelings. “I can’t afford to think about it now, but I might need you to remind me of that later.”

“I will always remind you of what a great woman your mother was, how much she loved your father, and that she only ever wanted what was best for you and him. I also know she’s dead, and you’ll never understand her reasoning, so all I can ask is that you give her the benefit of the doubt because she has never once given you reason not to.”

I frown at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“When I was forced to make the hardest decision in the world where you’re concerned,” he says, and the reminder is like a slap to the face. The source of the demise of our happiness.

I’m prevented from responding when the door to the little house opens and Heph comes out carrying a bowl, a corked brown pottery jug, and a wickedly sharp-looking knife.

I watch silently as Heph sets the bowl and knife on the ground and then uncorks the jug. From it he pours black salt—an ingredient often used in protection spells, potions, and amulets—in a large circle around the bowl.

When he corks the jug and sets it aside, I ask, “Now what do you do?”

“Not what I do,” Heph says, nodding at the bowl and knife. “It’s your blood that needs to be spilled to call Amell because it’s his blood you’ll be spilling too. You need to get in that circle, pick up the knife, and call your father to you.”

CHAPTER 25

Thalia

My gaze moves to Bastien, once again seeking his reassurance. He hates this. I can see it all over his face, in the stiffness of his posture, the way his hands clench.

When Bastien loved me once, he’d never let me spill a precious drop of blood. But that’s not how he feels anymore, and he’s going to remind me of my duty to my people.

He’ll keep me on track.

He gives the smallest of nods, and I swallow hard before nodding back.

Stepping into the circle, I sit cross-legged and pick up the bowl. Placing it on my lap, I look up to Heph. “How much blood does it require?”

“Enough to get his attention,” he replies with a grimace.

I take the knife, and Bastien steps forward to the circle’s edge, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Start slow,” he advises.

I manage a smile and look back to Heph. “What do I say?”

“It doesn’t matter what you say, only that you ask him to come. Pull on the nearest ley line to amp your power, spill the blood in the bowl, and make your request.”

“Okay.” I breathe out, willing calm into my body. My heart thuds painfully against my rib cage. I take the knife, intent on cutting into the fleshy part of my palm when a thought occurs. “Wait—I’m in a circle of protection. You two should be in here with me.”

“There’s no room,” Bastien says, which isn’t exactly true. It would fit three adults if we all stood.

“We can redraw the circle,” I say, my attention focused on Heph.

“The protection isn’t to keep Amell from us, but to keep Amell from the rest of Vyronas.”

Bastien rounds on Heph with a growl, grabbing his shirt. “You’re going to let him in there with her?”


Tags: Sawyer Bennett Chronicles of the Stone Veil Fantasy