Krantz notices the open drawer and immediately looks up and scans the room. He walks to the crate of thayar, plucking a stalk out of the box and chewing on it. Then he pulls a small vial out of his pocket and shakes out a few drops of a dark red liquid into his mouth. His pupils dilate, and an eerie wrongness settles over him.

His gaze immediately falls on us, and his lips lift in a menacing smirk. “I thought we might be seeing you today, Queen Laurel.”

Laurel

Very little is understood about blood magic, which leads to the fear surrounding it. Stories would have us believe those who practice it are limitless, their magic restricted only by their own imagination. One of the famous blood mages of our past—known only by the ominous pseudonym Feerdax—is believed to have been able to change his form at will. From young to old, male to female, even fae to animal.

Blood Magic Through the Ages

Thorne tries to keep himself between Krantz and me as protection, but I make a point to step in front of him. A low growl from deep in his chest tells me how he feels about it, but I ignore him.

“How are you able to see through the Prince’s magic? And why couldn’t I aerstep out of here?” I ask Krantz, not really expecting him to answer.

“I told you I had secrets of my own, witch.” The aether rolls through his body in a chaotic wave. He’s like a magnet for all the aether around us, sucking the room dry of the magical current somehow. I feel Thorne’s magic also being drained, so I put up the strongest light shield I can manage. It stops the draining, and Krantz snarls.

“INTRUDERS,” he bellows, and I don’t waste another minute. I grab Thorne and Allyssia’s hands and make a run for it. This time, I let Thorne lead the way, and he slices through every single rebel who tries to stop us with ease. Once we’ve made it down the hallway and to the first floor, I grab Thorne and Allyssia and attempt to aerstep again. This time, it works, and we emerge on the lawn in front of the cellar, and I re-conjure my shield.

The rebels aren’t far behind, pouring out of the house. Krantz and at least six dozen fae fighters run toward us, weapons and magic flying. Thorne takes over shielding, giving me time to evaluate the situation. Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes, I concentrate on the currents of aether flowing around us. It gathers together in crimson pools, sparkling brightly where each fae stands. Where Krantz stands, the aether has turned so deep red it’s almost black, and all the red mist around him is being sucked into his orbit. I will the aether to halt, then open my eyes.