Ilona Andrews - Magic Binds

“An ocean.”

“Right now, you are a barren rock within this ocean. A part of you feels the great power that lies there and wants to become one with it. There is so much magic there and you are only human. But because you are human, you impose limitations on yourself, things you won’t do no matter what. These limitations are good. They keep your ego intact. Without them you would melt into the waters.”

“What would happen then?”

“You would become everything you fear. A tyrant, a demon, eventually a god. Hang whatever label you wish upon it. You must find a way to draw the ocean into yourself without losing who you are. You absorb it, not the other way around. That is fundamentally harder than letting yourself become one with it.”

I stared at her.

“You’re not fighting the land!” she barked, exasperated. “You’re fighting yourself. The combined magical power of the land is far greater than you are, but it has no will of its own. Interacting with it is terrifying, because your instincts are warning you about the enormous power difference between you and it. Your fear is pushing you to subjugate it, and fear is telling you that once you impose your will on the land, it will be a slave and no longer a danger. But this is the one thing you cannot do. It will feel like a victory, but in reality it will be the end of who you are. You must find a balance, a place within your land’s power. Doing that is a lot harder, and so a part of you rebels against all of the work you must do to get there. Yes, it will feel as if some outside force is pushing on you. I’ve known people who even heard its voice and talked to it. Some of them went mad, child. Trust me, it’s you. You have to overcome yourself. If the land had a will of its own and was wrestling with you, it would be so much easier. You would just crush it and move on. But you are fighting yourself.”

“How do I win?”

“That’s for you to figure out. One or the other part of you will get the upper hand. It’s not important now. Your father is preparing for battle. You must prepare to defend your land and all within it. What we’re practicing now is fundamentally different from what you’ve done before to keep yourself alive. You’re taking nothing. You’re shaping the magic the way a vessel maker shapes clay and then releasing it. This harms nothing. Feel the magic. Commit. Let yourself sink fully into it, but do not let it pull your essence apart.”

I let the ocean of magic wash over me.

“Deeper,” my aunt demanded. “I won’t let you harm anyone.”

I opened myself and let it swallow me whole.

“Finally,” Erra said. “Take and hold. Release. Again. Again. Again . . .”

I LAY ON my back in the grass and watched the stars get brighter. I was so tired.

Curran loomed over me. I didn’t hear him approach. His gray eyes were dark.

“What?” I sat up.

“I told Derek to meet me here at nine. It’s ten now.”

Derek was punctual. If he said he would here at nine, he would be here. You could set your clock by him. Alarm pinched me. “Maybe he got held up?”

“He called, said he and Julie were going to run a short errand, and then they would come straight here. That was two hours ago. Julie was supposed to meet with Roman about bridesmaid dresses. He’s been sitting in our living room for half an hour.”

Something had happened.

I rolled to my feet. “I’ll get the car.”

Fifteen minutes later we drove out into the night, with the black volhv in the backseat.

“Did they say where they were going?” I asked.

“Near Gryphon Street.”

My old apartment was on Karen Road, off Gryphon Street. Crap.

“Thick magic tonight,” Roman said from the backseat.

I felt it, too. It was flooding me with power. Streets sped by.

“Any idea what they would be doing on Gryphon?” Curran asked.

Probably moving an assassin who thought I was her key to heaven into my apartment. “Some.”

“Feel like sharing?”

“No.”

“Kate, I’m getting sick of this. I was cool with Mishmar, I dealt with you bringing the ghost of your aunt into our house, but I’m done with all the secrecy. You know what’s going on and now the kids are in danger.”

“I’ll tell you afterward. It’s complicated to explain and you’ll be pissed off.”

“I’m already pissed off,” he snarled.

Not yet. When he was truly angry, he would turn ice cold.

“Look, it’s my fault, and now Julie has taken it upon herself to fix my mess. But right now let’s find the kids, and I promise you, you can roar as much as you want after.”

His eyes were completely gold. The steering wheel groaned slightly under the pressure of his fingers.

He would leave me. I knew it with absolute certainty. When he found out everything, he would leave. This was one straw too many.

“She’s right,” Roman said from the backseat. “Rescue first.”

“Stay out of this,” Curran and I said at the same time.

Roman raised his hands.

Curran took a turn. We shot out onto the street leading to the Berkins overpass, a massive stone bridge spanning a field of rubble where several office towers had collapsed and part of the city had sunk.

To the right side, Julie knelt on the bridge. Around her a faint red glow shimmered in a circle. She’d set a blood ward. Within the defensive spell, Derek paced back and forth. Adora knelt by Julie, her head bowed.

Behind the circle a dozen people waited. Two stood out, at the back of the group, a man and a woman, twins in their early twenties, both redheaded, both wearing the black and purple of the sahanu. Five hyenas sat by the female twin’s feet, secured by long chains.

“The twins are my father’s assassins,” I said.

The female twin reached down and took the collar off the first hyena.

“My lord is so good to me.” Roman grinned.

“What?”

“It’s a bridge.” He rubbed his hands together. “I love bridges!”

Arrows hit the car. Magic whined and our windshield shattered.

Curran threw the wheel to the right and braked. The car skidded to a stop, the driver’s side facing the bridge. He grabbed the door. Metal groaned. The door came free. Curran heaved it in front of him like a shield. His body tore. Bones grew, powerful muscle wound about them, and fur sheathed the new body. His jaws lengthened, the bones of his skull crunching and moving to make new leonine jaws. Fangs the size of my fingers burst from his gums. Sharp claws tipped the fingers of his monstrous hands. The change took less than a second, and then the nightmare that was Curran in warrior form snarled and leapt onto the bridge.

“Scatter!” the male twin ordered. “He’s ours.”

My father’s soldiers dashed out of Curran’s way, clearing the path to the twins.

I jumped out of the car and ducked behind the hood as chunks of sharp ice the size of my fist peppered the vehicle. Mages. Crap.

“Roman!” I yelled.

“I’ve got it.”

Roman straightened, ignoring the ice, and slammed the butt of his staff on the bridge steps, his eyes glowing. The staff’s wooden top flowed, turning into a monstrous bird head. The wooden beak gaped open and the staff screamed. Darkness shot out from under his feet, spiraling around him and breaking into a thousand crows. The murder surged around the bridge, like a horizontal tornado, blocking the ice.

I sprinted across the bridge toward the kids.

In the circle Derek was shaking Julie, but her eyes were still closed. He should’ve been able to exit the ward, but she must’ve set it closed both ways. They were trapped in it.

Power words were out of the question. Wasting one on individual fighters wasn’t worth the risk. The only two words that would affect every single one of the fighters would be ahissa , flee , or osanda , kneel , but both of these would hit Julie’s ward and Curran. I didn’t know how her blood ward would react to power words. Besides I didn’t want them to kneel or flee. I wanted to murder every one of them.