Faerie Magic (15 page)

And I was about to walk into its darkest underbelly. Again.

The doorbell rang. My nerves spiked, and I found myself shivering.
Show time.

Vance’s jaw hit the floor when I walked out.

“Don’t say a word,” I said.

He blinked a couple of times, shock evident on his features. “How’s the mark?”

“Still there.” I tapped my shoulder. It was weird touching a body that didn’t seem to be there. “Where will you be?”

“Nearby. The mark will activate when you touch the exact centre, three times.”

“Got it.” I drew in a breath.
I can do this.
“We should go.”

He nodded, resting his hand on my arm. I’d never seen him this hesitant around me. Faeries didn’t scare him in the slightest.

“Are you ready?” he asked. I knew he didn’t mean
are you ready to leave,
but
are you ready to fight them?
Our bout earlier had had mixed results, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could handle my magic well enough to take on someone who’d used it all their life.

“I can fight,” I said. “I’m more worried about being found out. It’s not like I have an encyclopaedia of Faerie. If I get put on the spot and say the wrong thing…”

“You’re masquerading as a shadow. Nobody will speak to you. They’ll be too intimidated.”

“They’re half-faeries,” I said. “Trust me, I’m like a fluffy kitten in comparison to some of the faerie-kind.”

He half-smiled, shaking his head. “I said you were over-thinking it.”

“Save the
I-told-you-so’s
for after.”

His hand tightened on my arm, and the hallway was replaced by a street. I inhaled the cool night air. We’d landed two streets down from the venue. I expected Vance to let go of my arm and disappear.

I didn’t expect him to wrap his other arm around me, pulling me against his chest.

I froze. How the hell was I supposed to respond? Not by kissing him again. He’d nodded when I’d said we were employer and employee, but this position was anything but professional. Not least because I didn’t even
look
like me.

He released me. “Good luck, Ivy.”

Hands tingling, I barely had time to blink before he vanished.

Whoa.

I half-ran to the alley, not stopping when I passed by the part I’d nearly died in. This section of town was abandoned, but someone had cleaned up the blood from last night. I averted my eyes and speed-walked to the back entrance.
I can do this
. Acting tough was part of my game. Nobody in here would recognise me in a million years. Maybe not even Calder. I
hoped
not.

Back into the dark. I moved swiftly, following the trail of voices into the auditorium. This time, it was already set up with the seats in place around the room’s edges. I searched out the other contestants, my heartbeat kicking up. No hiding this time. I had to stand out in the open.

Seeing the hobgoblin, I stalked over to him, head held high. My shadowy cloak billowed around me, and more than a few heads turned in my direction.

“Shadow,” said the hobgoblin. “You’re intending to show your face this time?”

“Only if I lose,” I said, in my new strange, cold voice. “And I don’t intend to.”

I eyed the other contestants, sizing them up. Aside from the spider and a short figure who looked like he might be part gnome, all the others were human-sized. But they varied from a tall woman in armour to a short redheaded guy who hardly looked older than fourteen, bouncing on his heels like he was eager for the Trials to start.

As the noise levels quietened, the hobgoblin directed everyone’s attention to the centre of the arena, where glyphs had appeared in the air. This time, I knew what was coming.

“The first match of the night,” the hobgoblin began, “pits Shark against Boulder.”

A tall, grinning male half-faerie skipped into the arena, followed by a bigger, slower one. Half-ogre, I guessed, judging by his green, mottled skin.

“The second match,” said the hobgoblin, “pits Shadow against Razor.”

Razor, to my surprise, was a female Winter half-faerie wearing a mask over the lower half of her face. Her long, curly black hair was tied up and tossed over her shoulder, and she wore casual clothes rather than armour. I’d have to wait to see what tricks she had up her sleeve.

Once the other matches were announced, the arena cleared to make room for the first bout. Shark didn’t appear intimidated by his half-ogre opponent, and circled him, grinning. Then he struck.

I winced inwardly as Shark ran headlong into Boulder’s fist, falling flat on his back. The half-ogre roared and pounced, pinning him flat and pounding his giant fists into the other half-faerie’s face. Blood and spittle flew as Shark spat out broken teeth.

So much for an intimidating name choice.

Shark’s head snapped back as Boulder punched him in the jaw. I winced a little. A normal human might have easily died. Half-faeries, however, were made of stronger stuff than mortals. Shaking his head, Shark spat out more teeth and attempted to roll to the side and throw the half-ogre off. He might as well have tried to move concrete with his fingers.

Boulder grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air, throwing him bodily across the arena. Ouch. The smaller half-faerie hit the dirt again, and cries of delight followed. The crowd wanted blood.

And they got some. When Shark pushed to his feet, Boulder punched him in the face again, which now resembled a battered piece of meat. His nose looked broken, and blood poured from his mouth. But he was still inexplicably grinning.

Then a pair of new teeth grew, right before my eyes, punching through his lower lip. A second set shot upwards, his mouth stretching unnaturally sideways. A ripple of surprise spread through the crowd.

Boulder stared at him, fists at his sides. Shark caught him totally off guard when he jumped, delivering a vicious kick to the knee that sent the half-ogre down. The still-grinning Shark caught Boulder’s next punch and sank his teeth into the other faerie’s hand… right through to the bone.

Boulder howled with pain. Shark’s teeth bit deeper until blood bubbled up, and the half-ogre’s wails reached a high pitch. He flailed his good hand, but couldn’t land a hit. Crimson drops spattered the ground.

Shark let go, withdrawing his bloodstained teeth, and went for the neck.

Boulder froze, the other faerie clinging to his shoulders, teeth inches away from severing a vital artery.

I didn’t hear his surrender, because the crowd roared, blasting my eardrums. They’d come for a show and got one, all right. Grinning a red-stained smile, Shark skipped away. If this hadn’t been a contest, I had no doubt he’d have ripped out the half-ogre’s throat.

The hobgoblin shouted over the noise, his voice amplified: “The second match will begin in a moment. Introducing Shadow and Razor.”

Oh, boy. I’d witnessed the Trials in their brutal reality. But it was too late to turn back. I clenched my fists at my sides and walked into the arena.

Cheers and shouts trailed after me. I paid the audience no attention, too busy trying to figure out my opponent. Razor… why the name? She might not look impressive, but I’d be a fool to assume she didn’t have a hidden plan.

So did I. Keeping my head high, I assessed her, planning my move. With magic-enhanced speed, I’d probably be able to take her down. She didn’t carry any weapons. Her leather jacket would provide some cushioning if I knocked her to the ground, but not enough.

Magic thrummed through the air, reacting to my nerves. Here, surrounded by magic and shadows, I could almost believe I was
there
again. Rather than letting it paralyse me, I imagined the arena to be like a shadowy area of the Grey Vale. The clearing where I’d killed Velkas. The magic seemed to like that, growing brighter, flaring from my hands like blue fire, sliding along my body.

Razor stalked towards me, wielding magic of her own. Snowflakes began to fall over her head, and she hurled a handful of Winter magic at me. Icy shards split the air, and I rolled to the side to avoid them. My own magic remained in its unwieldy form, but I had no time to concentrate. She’d left her right side open, and I aimed a kick at her ribs.

Wintry air slammed into me, forcing me to flip and land on my feet. I pulled my own magic into a rippling shield and then directed it outward, but I hadn’t drawn enough power in to do more than make her step back. I advanced on her, my feet moving with the swift speed the magic gave me. With one swipe, I swept her legs out from underneath her.

Razor’s hands hit the ground to break her fall and a fountain of what looked like water poured out, crossing the floor.
Oh, shit.
I was forced to jump to avoid it, but the flood didn’t stop at me. The icy water spread to cover the whole area we stood in, solidifying into ice.

Damn. I walked carefully, the ground slippery underfoot, cursing inwardly. I didn’t dare do any fancy tricks with the floor like this. Irritation, anger, and fear churned inside me, and my magic appeared equally unruly.

Razor’s feet left the ground and she leaped at me. I raised the magic in a clumsy shield and knocked her aside. Only then did I see the sharp edges to her boots.
Dammit.
Of course she wouldn’t have given herself a disadvantage with the slippery floor.

I hovered on the balls of my feet and sent out a blast of energy she easily dodged. Hand to hand would be trickier with the floor this slippery, but not impossible.

Throwing another handful of magic, I let her dodge, anticipated her landing and jumped. I crashed into her, knocking us both off our feet. She wriggled beneath me, the ice helping her to roll free. Before she could pin me, I punched the joint of her arm hard enough to break it. She snarled, kicking out, and I saw the double function of those razor shoes. Damn.

She managed to break free of my hold and launched to her feet, aiming a kick at my knee. I dodged, skidding out of range. The half-faerie raised both hands and called up a torrent of magic. It glanced off my shield, and she snarled. I stepped sideways, my feet skidding again. When she launched another magical assault, I ran forward, using the momentum of the slippery ice to leap into the air, avoiding her attack. My fist struck her cheekbone, and I jabbed her in the ribs with another strike.

Razor went down, feet slipping from underneath her. The collapse took me by surprise, and I didn’t react fast enough to stop her spiked foot coming up and hitting my arm. I felt the material of my jacket tear underneath the illusion and yanked my hand away.

Not fast enough. She moved sideways, sending me crashing onto my back, and her spiked foot came at my face.

With no time to move my head, I raised my hand. Pain exploded in my arm, the spike tearing through the flesh of my wrist. Swearing, I rolled aside, barely dodging another stab, and retaliated by kicking at her knee. My wrist burned with pain.

Pain. Wait. Avakis’s magic fed on pain—I should get a boost. My shield brightened, blocking another magical assault. Her mask had torn free, and Razor bared her teeth at me, kicking viciously. The pain made me clumsier, too slow to dodge, and the sharp edge of her shoe ripped open the knee of my jeans. I felt warm blood trickle down my shin underneath the illusion.

I need to finish this fast.

Drawing on the pain, the magic’s glow burned brighter, turning into a blue stream of energy. Pain… not just my pain. Wait. I could draw on the others’ too. Boulder lay in a miserable heap at the arena’s side, while Shark’s mouth dripped blood. Razor herself moved awkwardly, like I’d cracked a rib. Their pain made my magic burn brighter, and this time, my attack actually knocked her flat onto her back. I approached, seeing my reflection in her eyes. A faerie warrior edged in blue light.

The crowd’s whispers filtered through, especially the other contestants. They knew something was screwy.

If I kept drawing on their pain like this, if Calder was here… he’d immediately know who I was. As far as I knew, nobody else had the same ability. I’d been an idiot not to realise sooner.

I continued to let the power flow through me, but directed it into forming a shield instead. Rather than hitting her with magic, I tackled her around the waist, knocking her flat. Her nose broke beneath my knuckles. Blood spurted between my fingers, and she screamed.

I twisted her arm behind her back, hard, and used my other arm to elbow her in the ribs. She broke free of my hold, blood dripping down her face, and tried to kick me again. Sharp pain ran down my leg, but I’d already kicked her viciously in the shin. She was forced to put weight on her uninjured leg, and her moment’s hesitation gave me the chance to get in close and bring my knee up to strike her chin—hard enough for her teeth to bite into her lower lip. She fell, not quite unconscious, but halfway there. Blood dripped from her open mouth. Her head dropped to the side.

“Razor surrenders,” said the hobgoblin.

“Damn right she does,” I muttered. Ouch.

Not exactly how I planned to win, but I’d survived. I limped to the arena’s side, blood trickling down both my legs. I sat down on the nearest step, and a fresh bolt of pain lanced through both knees. My wrist continued to sting, too. I’d got lucky this time. Two guards carried the half-unconscious Razor to join the other injured contestants.