Marked By Magic by Christa Wick
Chapter Twenty-Three
"I don't havetime to solve this puzzle the safe way," Esme said, her gaze briefly meeting Denver's before landing on Cade next and then Iris, where it stuck the longest.
Philia and Jet had already left the room. Lana and Seth remained behind, all three males standing while the women sat.
"You're anxious to start planning a battle," Esme said with a nod at the men. They stared at her, their expressions stony and unreadable.
She let the silence build until Denver finally shook his head.
"We don't have enough intel to plan a battle. We can only figure out how to fortify against an attack at this point."
Seth and Cade nodded at his assessment, their muscles bunching up tighter.
Absently stroking the artifact, Esme stared at Abby for a few seconds before addressing those gathered.
"I need a few minutes alone with my mate, then I need Iris and Lana back in the room."
Everyone she asked to leave moved quickly. Denver lingered by the door once he and Esme were alone.
"Don't do that, love," she said, gesturing him over. "We have enough factors throwing roadblocks between us."
"I know what you're going to say," he replied, his gaze stuck on the box that held the black pearl. "You're going to put that damn thing in your head not knowing how or what it will do once it's in you."
Her fingers strummed along the table's surface, the uneven stone floor and the power running through her making everything wobble.
"Sit," she said, the word sharply enunciated. "And tell me what happened with Oscar earlier today."
Surprise jerked him from the wall and over to the chair opposite Esme. He plopped down like a duffel bag of bowling balls, the plastic seat and the hollow metal legs groaning at the sudden impact.
"Tavi—" he growled, jaw clamping shut when Esme shook her head at him.
"She didn't tell me, but she was thinking about it when she visited to give me these."
Her hand swept in the direction of a burgundy leather journal and a cheap grade school notebook. Denver recognized both as the materials Tavi had been working with when he interrupted her, especially with the fresh layer of the young woman's scent covering them.
"Your mother's writings," he said, knowing that Esme had developed severe headaches trying to read them, whether from the witch script or some spell her mother might have put on them to specifically bar Esme from prying.
"So now you know," Denver answered, the words clipped from how tight his jaw had locked.
Esme summoned a wan smile. "We haven't had a good argument in weeks. I kind of miss it. It's quite unlike you to handle me with velvet gloves."
With a growl, he jumped to his feet, lifted Esme from her chair and sat down in it. Cradling her against his chest, he gently pressed a kiss on her forehead.
"We are not going to argue about it," she said, plucking the pearl from its box and bringing it close to her forehead, where it began to glow. "There is no time to argue about it. We can't maintain the transfusions. We need everyone strong, ready to fight, and not drained from keeping me alive another day."
Denver squeezed her tight, his energy pulsing with pain. Putting the pearl back in its box, she snuggled closer to him.
"This is the only way I can help save you…and Oscar...all of you. I am not saying I will die—but, if it is going to happen, let it be while I am trying to help those I love."
"You're killing me, baby," he rasped. "Making me cry, too, and you know I hate that shit."
Surging up, she kissed away one of the offending tears.
"You can save them for now," Esme comforted, reaching out to tap at Tavi's notebook. "Tavi discovered a very important secret my mother kept from me—big shock, right? Anyway, sick as Riya was, she needed a witch to help her transfer the pearl to me. It wasn't just me she was sending away to rest up before the ceremony—she taught my mother what was necessary. Riya thought using my loving mother was the best way to keep the transfer secret until I was old enough—powerful enough—to use all the knowledge it imparted."
Denver consented with a short nod, emotions still warring across his face.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
Her hand resting gently atop his chest, Esme nodded at the door. "Tell Iris and Lana to come in, then go do everything you can to warn and protect our people."
* * *
"She's quieterthe closer I am," Esme said, trying to drag the cot over to the altar.
Nudging Esme out of the way, Iris took the cot and placed it by Abby as Lana brought over a blanket and pillow. Esme settled in then took Iris's hand. The three women had spent the last half hour going over the ceremony, Iris memorizing the ancient words she would have to speak in a tongue she had never spoken before. Lana's job was to keep Esme breathing and her heart pumping.
Some pain relief would be nice, too, Esme thought.
"What aren't you telling me?" Iris asked after several minutes had passed without Esme releasing her hand.
"You have to be both wolf and witch for this to work," Esme answered.
Iris snorted, her cheeks turning pink as she reached for the bottom hem of her blouse. "Good thing I've got my combat bra on."
Esme interlaced her fingers with Iris.
"Not all of you in your wolf form, just your hands."
Iris shook her head. "I mean, I've done it with a finger to scratch at something—and that wasn't even the entire finger."
"Show me you can't" Esme challenged.
Iris looked between Esme and Lana, then back again. Lana kept her hands clasped in front of her mouth, tension stretching her mouth into a squiggling line.
"O-kay," Iris agreed, the single word shaking as it left her. "Here goes something…I hope."
"Hope is almost all we're running on," Esme said, one finger reaching out to lightly stroke Iris's wrist before withdrawing.
Air whipping in and out of her, Iris started the transformation with her thumbs, gaze crinkling as she tried to wrestle the stubborn digits into compliance. Slowly, the nails extended. Two small pops sounded, then two more as the knuckles were pulled and the bones and ligaments lengthened.
The transformation spread outward, thumb to index and down the line until both hands were twice their original length and covered in a soft, downy fur.
"So you don't have something for me to make the cut?" Iris asked, her voice resonating with her wolf from the partial shift. "No ceremonial knife or something like that?"
Reaching up, Esme stroked the thumbnail on Iris's right hand.
"You brought your own knives, my friend."
Lana moved into position on her knees, out of view from Esme unless the witch arched her neck and rolled her eyes toward her forehead.
"Brrr…" Esme teased as Lana's cold fingers weaved through her hair to make contact with her head. "Better than an ice pack."
"It's a dang refrigerator in this cellar." Lana wiped her cheek against her sleeve, the words clogging her throat. "Hopefully Riya's pearl gets you on your way back to walking in the sunshine."
Esme echoed the sentiment as she lifted the box containing the pearl.
"Brace yourself," she warned the wolf-witch.
Pinching the pearl between the nail on her thumb and that on her index finger, Iris lifted it from the box. Her head bobbed, her eyes closed. A shudder ran through her.
"Start the words," Esme ordered. "Don't let the visions overtake you."
Iris began chanting, her body fighting to switch back to human or complete the transformation to wolf.
The words echoed around the room, creating an overlay of what was being said with what had been said like two children singing in rounds.
Ya kyì bwud jì durn.
K'sta ya twì durn.
Chyʼo vzrik klavke durn.
Hand shaking, Iris brought the pearl up to Esme's forehead with her right hand. The thumb on her left hand pressed lightly against the witch's flesh.
Ya kyì bwud jì durn.
K'sta ya twì durn.
Chyʼo vzrik klavke durn.
The pearl glowed brighter. Lana squinted at the light, but Esme looked at it as if she could see something unfolding. Her mouth would purse then her lips would part in awe before turning down again.
Ya kyì bwud jì durn.
K'sta ya twì durn.
Chyʼo vzrik klavke durn.
Iris pressed down more firmly on Esme's flesh. She drew blood as she pushed. The droplets lifted into the air, into the light of the pearl, each one turning just as black as the mysterious gem with its dark, beckoning luster.
Ya kyì bwud jì durn.
K'sta ya twì durn.
Chyʼo vzrik klavke durn.
When the wound was deep enough, Iris pressed the pearl against the opening, pushing it down with just one nail. Esme's magic resisted at first. So did her flesh. Her bones and muscles recoiled, Lana holding her firm and sending a warm pulse of magic along the witch's scalp.
When Esme's breathing grew harsh, Lana smoothed it out, her own breath falling like a cool breeze on Esme's skin.
Ya kyì bwud jì durn.
K'sta ya twì durn.
Chyʼo vzrik klavke durn.
As the last word left her, Iris pulled her nail from Esme's forehead. The pearl's and Esme's own magic immediately sealed the wound.
Minutes passed in silence.
Lana was the first to speak.
"Anything?" she softly asked.
Closing her eyes, Esme answered.
"Yes. My mother must die."
Reaching out, she wrapped her hand around Iris's wrist.
"And I need a wolf-witch to kill her."
