Born in Fire

“I agree. And yes, occasionally they procure spells from an unauthorized dealer, when the need arises. Often the casings are kept, however, all marked, so we can keep track of who is using what. I make it my priority to make note of them all.”

I just could not believe he had never seen a casing without a marking. That said volumes about the people he dealt with—and how little he’d seen of the magical world’s underbelly.

Volumes.

“Regarding making a note of the casings,” I said, “we can assume your memory is…”

“Photographic.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be, what with all the other things you have going for you?”

“I am ready to dangle you over the water again.” He stared down at me, utterly serious.

Laughter bubbled up from my middle. “I get that a lot.”

He looked at his feet. “Smoothing dirt doesn’t seem like it would require a volatile spell.”

I stared at the two casings. If I put the new one in the pouch, I’d have to show Darius all my spent spells. That would just amount to a lot more questions, like why do you have a bunch of empty casings in your spell pouch?

I slipped the old one into its home, to be used as a fake spell down the road, and put the new one into my pocket. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? Could be an old specimen, I guess, that just didn’t make it to you.”

“Pity we didn’t look harder at the other site.” He glanced back that way, then at me. “Keep walking forward. Don’t fall in the water or look over the edge. I will be right back.”

“Wait—”

He sped off like a motor was strapped to his back.

After taking a glance at the still waters, I did exactly what he’d said. Onward I walked, lost in thought about the many enemies I’d managed to accrue in such little time, all without the benefit of a bounty. At least the vampire who’d bonded that crazy mage would have to wait until Darius and I figured out whatever this riddle was. The mage’s friends, however…

“Another.”

I jumped and struck. My fist glanced off Darius’s muscled side before he danced backward, his brow furrowed.

I palmed my chest, trying to still my heart. “You scared the bejeebus out of me.”

“You need to pay better attention to your surroundings.”

If it wouldn’t stroke his ego, I’d mention something about his utterly silent advance, amazing speed, and daunting quickness. I was doing him a favor by withholding that information, surely—otherwise the guy’s ego would swell so large that he’d never have friends.

He held out his hand. When I reached for the proffered token, he pulled it away and tsked. “Finders keepers.”

“Mature.” When his hand advanced again, I inspected the orb, the same as the one I’d found. “Still, there’s the question of the sentinels. Did they use the spells? Or did the magic user kill them or trick them into leaving their posts?”

Without warning, I snatched at the casing. Darius yanked it away just in time, leaving my fingers to glance off his closed fist.

“Only turtles would be jealous of your speed.” Darius tucked his prize away.

“I was close. Admit it,” I said, continuing on.

“This was the same magic user. The pellet was discarded in roughly the same way. Tossed after use. Mages do it a lot. Witches and warlocks do not.”

“Witches don’t throw down their used casings?” That was something I’d never noticed.

The terrain slowly began to change. More land patched the waters with taller, thicker reeds. In the distance, the mountain loomed larger, spilling its trees onto the flatter, hopefully dryer, land.

“Witches and warlocks seem to be more earth conscious. When one has less power, he or she must reach for any source at their disposal to make up for that which is lacking.”

“I bet you’re a hit with all of them, hmm?” I shook my head. “By the way, many men use the term witch. It’s gender neutral these days, like mage. Something about negative connotations with the term warlock in the Spanish Inquisition days…”

“That doesn’t concern me.”

“Oh yes, a real hit.”

“Not far now.” He motioned in front of us at a wall of trees. I could barely make out a small, rickety wooden fence separating the suddenly wooded area from the swamp. Water closed the wooded area off into an island; the raised path we were on was the only dry way in.

Closer still, I squinted at what looked like a boot at the edge of the trees and the water, off to the right after the path met the island. From the angle it was splayed on the ground, it looked as if it still contained a foot. Problem was, I didn’t see the leg attached.

Darius stuck his hand out in front of me, surveying the same thing. After a moment, he dropped his limb. “I think we will soon find the answer to our latest question.”

My attention stayed on that boot as we drew closer to the end of the raised path. I could barely see where the land bowed strangely—not something you’d see in the Brink. “He’s got one of those sheets on, doesn’t he?”

“She. That is a woman’s boot.”

I rolled my eyes—it looked like a normal combat boot to me. “Don’t tell me you’re a fashionista, too. How do you possibly find the time?”

“It is important to change with the times so as to remain undetected among humans,” Darius said. “I always pay attention to fashions of the day, and patterns of speech. It is how I am still alive after all these years.”

That made sense. Another point to him. So annoying.

Right where the path met the island, still about ten feet from where that boot lay off to the side, a vibration of magic jiggled my bones and stopped me dead. I held up my hand for Darius to stop beside me before taking out my sword.

“Do you feel that?” I asked in a hush.

I raised my palm to face the magic, inviting the currents to run through my blood so I could hear their song. That would lead me back to the nature of the spell, then to the type, and finally to the purpose. That was the goal, anyway. When a powerful mage was behind the wheel, he could disguise his intentions.

I bent to feel the area near my feet. The magic thinned down near the ground, not forming a root as it should have. “Our mage either got lazy, or isn’t as experienced as his power level suggests. This wouldn’t trap someone, though. This blockade was placed independently from whatever has that boot. Though the distance alone should’ve told you that.”

Slowly, with a steady hand, I slid my palm along the ground. Razor-sharp pain sliced into my skin, the edges of a nasty spell catching the top of my hand. I sucked in a breath and gritted my teeth, waiting to see if the spell manifested into magical knives or some other horrible thing. When it didn’t, I continued pushing my hand forward until the pain moved up toward my wrist. I held it, wondering if this would evolve into a physical reaction of some kind. Still nothing. Just a barrier.

“Three inches thick, or so.” I pulled my hand back slowly. “The edge of it, which is frayed because the spell wasn’t properly rooted, hurts like the devil. That seems to be about it. I can’t tell if it’s a tripwire of some kind. Not yet, anyway.”

I eyed the path, and then the water off to either side. The memory of that gaping mouth with the sharp rows of teeth flitted through my mind. Those serpents were onto me—at least the one was—and they knew I liked to hang out over the water. I had to make this quick.

“I need to reach right, Darius. Help.”

He knew the drill, and quickly realized he’d have to be a more active participant this time.

I leaned over the side, feeling his strength holding my weight. “Pull me in,” I said, watching the water. I leaned over the left side of the path as well, feeling how far that spell went. “Okay, lift me up.”

His long fingers curved around my ribcage and glanced off my breasts.

“Dude,” I said, shaking him off as soon as I could. “Not cool.”

He didn’t comment, clearly only concerned about my analysis and not my personal boundaries.

I scowled in thought, remembering the bite of the spell. The gap at the bottom. “This was done by a powerful mage who has good control over his magic, but lacks experience. A younger person, maybe, or someone without the proper training early on. The feel of the currents suggests a darker sort of magic—the type that gains energy from sacrificing, calling on demons, that sort of thing. Not all of those things are bad, mind you. Some religions exist peacefully while using those practices, but I’d bet this guy is after personal gain. This spell…is not peaceful. I came across another mage whose magic felt like this just a day or two ago, depending on how long I’ve been in this place. Could be coincidence, but given your problem and my involvement, I’d bet not.”