I whirl around and motion the soldiers past me. As the streaks get closer, they converge into a massive, writhing black entity. I call on my powers, sucking them into my body in a violent wave that has me lighting up like a storm beacon. When the enemy is nearly on me, my skin tightens like a rubber band being stretched, and I send out my power in a forward pulse that slams into the darkness like a punch from a heavyweight boxer.
The inky blackness reels back, shuddering from the impact. I don’t let up. Pulse after pulse slams the area, forcing the darkness back. My body slows, like I’ve lead in my veins, and I send out one last pulse. When the dust settles, the dark streaks are gone and the streets lay in quiet disorder. Those still alive are quiet, suffering from the shock of the attack, too scared to move.
The ground beneath my feet sizzles, charred and smoking. My vision is tight, like I’m staring through a tunnel. I fight for control as my chest expands with each deep breath. It actually worked?
It takes a moment before the people begin to slink back into town to find friends and loved ones. There’s a nudge to my back and a hand to my shoulder. Wyatt stands beside me, staring at the destruction. “What the hell just happened?”
“That,” Granel says, slamming his sword into its sheath as he comes alongside us, “was the blackest of magic. Dark souls. Someone released them.”
“Dark souls?” Wyatt repeats. He drops his hand from my shoulder, an unsure smile tugging his lips. “Like bad-tempered ghosts?” I can tell he’d like to shrug the notion off, but it’s got him spooked.
“More like spirits called from the abyss,” Granel corrects.
“That’s nice and creepy.” Wyatt glances my way. “Looks like you’ve got yourself one tired, cranky whore of a problem.”
Like I need him to state the obvious? From what Kera’s told me about the firsts, messing with dark magic goes against their beliefs. “Who did it?” I ask Granel.
“How would I know? But whoever it is has a lot of power and then some.”
I’m not buying his innocent act and face him. “You were in the middle of the last killing spree. Seems logical you’d be in on this one.” I know I’ve hit a nerve when the muscles in his jaw jump and the hand resting on his sword hilt tightens.
“I have made my fair share of mistakes, but these are firsts. I have never intentionally killed my own kind.”
“That’s right.” My lip curls as I turn away from him, daring him to attack me. “You only intentionally kill my kind.”
“What?” Wyatt looks from me to Granel. “You tried to kill Dylan?”
I hike up my shirtsleeve and show Wyatt the brand on my arm. “Remember seeing this? It’s the mark of death, and if it were up to him,” I nod toward Granel, “my body would be nailed head and heel to the post in the middle of town feeding the crows.”
Granel scrubs his whiskered cheek and sighs. “I have no excuses to offer. All I ever wanted was to protect those whom I believed to be in danger. I can only ask that my former actions not contaminate your thoughts toward these people. What you can do—what I just saw you do—we need your help.”
I cover the brand with a jerk. “I’m here for Kera.”
“Kera is here? In Teag?” A spark of interest enters his eyes. “Does anyone else know?”
I can actually see his mind flipping through the possibilities of her being here. And he wonders why I don’t trust him? “She was kidnapped.”
He settles his face into a mask of sympathy. “I am sorry to hear that. You do know I have many contacts throughout Teag.”
Granel offering to help me—one of the tainted? Warning bells go off in my head. “Who’s pulling your strings now?”
His lips thin. “No one.”
“That’s not really your style, is it?”
“My style?” he asks after a moment’s pause.
“Thinking for yourself.” I don’t bother waiting to hear his reply, I walk away. My knees buckle and my footing does a strange little jig. I’ve used too much energy and I haven’t had time to recharge.
Wyatt comes alongside me and catches my elbow as I teeter. “He won’t be a problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“My pinky is thicker than that idiot’s spine.”
“Don’t be so sure,” I say. “There’s nothing he won’t do to get what he wants. Working for someone else or on his own, he’s a huge problem.”
We catch up to Leo, who’s directing people like a faithful herding dog making sure his sheep are going in the right direction.
I call him over, and when he gets close, Wyatt’s impatience gets the best of him. “So we have an evil someone with sleazy minions and a populace that’s completely at their mercy. Sounds like your run-of-the-mill dictatorship that needs to be toppled, which, lucky for you, is my specialty.”
“I don’t know, bro.” The wind pushes a thick link of Leo’s dark hair into his eyes and he pushes it away. “So far all you’ve done is get Dylan in trouble. Need I remind you of the barn incident?”
Wyatt groans. “One miscalculation. Seriously, how was I supposed to know he’d light up like that?” He points to me. “Did you know?”
“Well, I—”
“I knocked out that guy with the sword and I wasn’t even on top of my game.” A mixture of desperation and hope colors his voice. “You need me.”
Seriously? He wants to stay so badly he’s begging? I don’t get it, so I ask. “Why do you want to stay here?”
“You’re kidding, right? It’s like, whiskey wild here. I might regret the hangover, but not the party. I promise, you’ll be glad I’m around.”
He’s like Jason, seeing the fun of the fight, but not the pain. The scary thing is, I need him. He has the tactical experience I don’t.
“You can’t think human,” I warn him. “There’s nothing typical about this place or any of these people.”
He nods. “Brief me on the particulars.”
My head has stopped spinning, but a dull ache has replaced it. I rub the heel of my hand against my forehead. “There’s not much to tell.” That’s a lie. There’s too much to tell and no time. “Everyone’s crazy. And to top it off, my dad’s their king.”
Wyatt laughs. “You’re a prince?”
“The heir,” Leo tells him with a wry curl of his lips. “It freaks me out, too.”
“Go on,” Wyatt stands with his feet apart and hands on his hips. Very Patton-esque of him.
There’s too much info. My mind refuses to land on any details, so I go for a generic overview, hoping he’ll catch on as we go. “This place is knee-deep in magic no one wants to control. Faldon says I should take the throne, but the people don’t want me.”
“Faldon?” Wyatt lifts his right eyebrow.
Leo leans close. “Wicked old dude who tried to kill him. He was Dylan’s grandfather.”
“Was?”
“Dylan took care of him…permanently.”
Wyatt sucks in a breath, his eyes harboring a bit more respect for me. “Nasty.”
“Something is going on with Baun,” I say, ignoring them as I think aloud, “but I just don’t know what yet.”
“Baun?” Wyatt asks.
“Their king and Dylan’s whacked-out dad. He’s imprisoned by the pux,” Leo adds.
“Pux?” Wyatt rubs the back of his neck. “You guys have mentioned them before, right?”
Leo holds up a hand and shakes his head. “Don’t ask.”
“And,” I continue, “I think Bodog agrees with the general idea of me saving Teag. I get what he means when he says this is all my fault, but it’s still crazy.”
“So let me get this straight.” Wyatt points toward the village. “You caused all this?”
“In a way.” That doesn’t sound right. “I killed Navar, who was controlling the people—”