Divine and Devour, page 19
The display would have been impressive if the mortals could visualize Vis’ soul. Despite the force of Vis’ spirit, Valen hadn’t summoned him for the fight. What Valen required of him was weapons.
Valen pointed to the thugs, who had dropped him when they suspected magic was initiated and drawn daggers. “Vis. Nice to see you. Your axe, please.”
Vis’s groan rumbled through the air. “I thought I was going to do the fighting. I’m miserable challenging lesser spirits in the realm. When are you going to summon me for a real battle?”
“Not today. Your axe, quick,” Valen shouted as the first thug caught on and charged.
Vis handed over his axe and watched on the sidelines. “They are mortals. Hardly even worth working up a sweat.”
Valen swung the axe. He had the advantage since the mortals could not view his weapon. The aim was off, but it nicked the shoulder of the one attacking. Valen muttered to Vis, “You don’t sweat. How would you know if they are worth the fight or not? My arms are burning over here. Your axe is heavy despite its apparent spirit form.”
Vis curled his lip in repugnance at the way Valen swung his axe. “Why are you so terrible at fighting? They are mortals! Beat them and be done with it.”
Valen swung the axe at the thugs coming for his back. “I’m trying!”
“This display is pathetic. It feels like a deflated cock.”
“Khaos!” Valen growled in annoyance, “Be quiet and leave your cock out of this.”
Vis gave him such an offended look that Valen almost laughed. The words quiet and cock were rarely banished from the spirit’s vocabulary. Valen might have felt bad, but he had to keep his wits, or he’d end up in the hospital. Now was not the time to banter with his caustic friend. The thugs were unsure what to make of the scene, but they figured out he had a means to harm them. The weapon may be invisible, but they felt its sting.
One thug skidded around Valen and aimed for his kidney. Valen spun and swung the axe, catching the mortal’s arm. It wasn’t the weapon-wielding arm, but it caused the thug to retreat a step. The second mortal lunged for Valen’s solar plexus. Valen swerved, and the dagger missed his middle but sliced along his ribs. He hissed as blood weld and pain tore through his system.
“Need any help?” Vis called.
“I can do it myself, thank you,” Valen gritted through his teeth and swung the axe at one of the thug’s shoulder. It missed and created an opening for the other thug to stab his shoulder.
Valen cried out and dropped one hand from the axe.
Vis crossed his arms and asked in a sing-song voice, “Need any help yet?”
Valen glared at his contracted spirit. “Maybe a little.”
Vis’s expression was a display of ruthless glee. He ran forward and whipped his chains around the calves of a thug. The mortal couldn’t anticipate the spirit or the weapon and fell to his knees. Vis knocked him unconscious and wrapped the chains around his arms. The second thug noticed his comrade on the ground and searched for the attacker. Valen used the distraction to bring the axe down on the thug’s shoulder. The mortal dropped his weapon and staggered.
Valen tossed the axe to Vis, who caught it and twirled the dual blades with triumphant amusement. Ignoring his bloodthirsty spirit, Valen drew back his arm and punched the mortal in the face with all his witch strength. His knuckles popped from the impact, and the thug fell over unconscious.
Valen had a little pity for the busted-up thugs. “Drop them in front of the hospital.”
“What about you?”
“I’m on Healing Street. There’s a medela witch every two feet.”
Vis reached down and scooped up the thugs. He looked like he was balancing a feather as he hoisted the thugs into his grip. His lips hooked down as he grouched, “Hardly worth the fight.”
“Thanks for having my back,” Valen removed his gloves and pricked the tip of his finger with a pin he had kept stuck in his belt. He floated a bead of blood to Vis’ open mouth.
The spirit licked the blood, and a glint of magic struck a red blaze within his eyes. “Thanks for the boost. I’ll get them to the hospital. Next time, bring me a real opponent.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Valen waved him off and staggered to a stall on his right.
Vis was a blur as he sprinted to the hospital. Valen staggered to the stall and ducked under the awning. He felt his blood coating his stomach and thigh as it dripped from the wound. He knocked on the door but got no answer. He strayed to the next vendor, but they had fled the scene as well.
Finally, he reached a stall where a medela witch was finishing his transaction. Valen gripped his side, and his body threatened to give out. He was about to collapse when Vis appeared and helped him stay upright.
“I need healing,” Valen entreated the medela witch.
The medela witch assessed him and motioned for Valen to follow him into his apothecary. Valen let out a relieved sigh and swayed with Vis’ help over the threshold.
“The imperial law enforcement will be looking for you if we don’t hurry. The incident you caused is bound to reach the Court of Harmony from one of the witnesses,” The medela witch explained while he rummaged through his supplies.
“Thank you for healing me,” Valen wheezed, and Vis set him on a stool by the medicine counter.
The medela witch pressed his lips together. “Our code as a healer is to assist those in need. I’d advise not getting caught up with those from Blood Street in the future.”
Valen snorted, but it hurt his side. “I want to avoid them, but they won’t leave me alone.”
The medela witch grunted. He ground herbs into a wooden bowl and mixed it with water. “Drink this, and I’ll heal your wounds. This will speed up the process and help me restore your health.”
Valen gripped the cup and swallowed the concoction. It was gritty and tasted bitter, but he forced it down his throat. He slammed his head on the counter as he felt the wounds taking their toll. Vis paced with worry.
The medela witch lifted Valen’s shirt and incanted, “Heal.”
The wounds stitched themselves shut, the sensation weird and uncomfortable as his body reacted to the healing magic. All the cells in Valens’ body tingled as they directed their purpose to restore his health. He was still weak, but Valen didn’t feel faint.
The medela witch poured him a glass of water and crossed the room to a sink. He washed his hands and brought a towel for Valen to clean off his skin. While Valen cleaned, the medela witch handed him a small pouch with a list of the herbs contained.
“You’ll need rest to fully recover, but your body should be fine. Go before the imperial law enforcement starts investigating the street.”
Upon reading the paper, Valen recalled his father’s medications. “I need some herbs for my father. I was on my way to collect them when I was attacked.”
“Let me see,” The medela witch held out his hand for the prescription.
Valen rummaged in his pocket and passed the list over.
The medela witch perused the herbs. “I can give you these as well. The magic herbs are in the storage room.”
“Thank you. How much are the herbs?”
The medela witch stated, “Four gold libras.”
Valen fumbled for his coin pouch as the medela witch searched his store room for the herbs. He counted four gold coins and left them on the counter. The medela witch returned with the herbs and instructions on how to take them. He passed them over to Valen and scooped up the coins.
“I didn’t charge for the service of healing you, but you should leave.”
Valen rose to make his escape. He tried to return the towel, but the medela witch motioned for him to keep it.
Vis followed as Valen made his exit out the back of the apothecary and wove through the alleys of Healing Street. He rounded the corner to the inner circle of Aequitas and hired a carriage to take him to Divination Street. It wouldn’t be a good idea to run around with blood coating his clothes and hands.
Vis checked over his condition in the carriage and, satisfied Valen was safe, hopped into his floating card. The card slipped into his deck. Valen leaned against the cushion of the carriage and ruminated on the fight with the Blood Street thugs.
The Taxidermist was making his moves for revenge. Valen was going to have to watch every corner and mark his steps. One failed attempt meant reinforcements would come. He had to be ready because the next battle might be with witches. Worse, if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up in a cell at the Court of Harmony, and all his chances to seal the heart song with Cimmeria would vanish.
Chapter 15
Cimmeria fretted and paced the edge of her constellation. A weird fizzle of energy coursed through her soul, and she couldn’t pinpoint the trigger. She didn’t sense anything amiss with Valen, but their lives were so complicated as of late that it wouldn’t surprise her if he was in trouble.
“You are going to wear a hole in the line between the stars,” Asteron poked fun at her as he floated nearby.
Cimmeria halted and tapped her toe. Her shoe glittered with blue gems as she parsed her thoughts. “There’s unrest on the world egg, and it makes me nervous.”
“You had a series of strange occurrences. A run-in with the Taxidermist, the witch council meeting, and an interdimensional rescue mission.”
Cimmeria tossed her hair over a shoulder and tapped harder. “It’s hard to explain. I feel like a wheel is turning inside my gut. Like my entire being is changing course.”
That got Asteron’s attention. “Like fate is making a move?”
She paused and toyed with the suggestion. “Possibly.”
The spirit realm rumbled, and she watched as a group of stars changed course. They zoomed through the realm and twirled before settling in the distance. That wasn’t normal. The etheric field waned, and she beheld dimensions beyond her pocket of the universe. Worlds hidden by magic and space blinked into view as the spirit realm converged.
In the distance, she noticed a glass bed with black silk cocooning a lone figure. Deep in a cave, the being slept, and Cimmeria gasped as she realized she was viewing Khaos. She took a step toward him, but the etheric field blinked and closed off the connection to the other worlds.
Khaos had revealed himself. She didn’t know where he was resting, but it was the first time she’d seen him since he abandoned her on the world egg. Her soul flickered, and the ephemeral quality of her existence struck a chord of fear within her. Cimmeria felt her tether to the spirit realm, but she was waning and didn’t know how to stop it. She snapped her fingers to trigger her magic, but nothing happened. Her soul was dying, and if she didn’t find a way to fix it soon, she wouldn’t exist at all.
As Cimmeria dissected the implications of her destiny, a tingle spread through her soul. She shivered, and a flash of electric blue light overtook her vision. When it dimmed, Cimmeria discerned the image of one of the witch council members.
“First Witch Cimmeria,” He bowed at the waist and then acknowledged Asteron, “First Witch Asteron.”
“He’s one of the council members,” Cimmeria clarified for Asteron.
“Hesiod Meridian,” The witch introduced himself with a gallant smile. “I am one of the representatives of our bloodline on the witch council. “I come with good news.”
Hope rose within Cimmeria and gushed through her soul. “What is it?”
Hesiod clasped his hands behind his back and announced, “I am a miracle witch, and it is the council’s decree that I assist you and Valen in resurrecting your body and returning you to live on the physical plane.”
Cimmeria’s eyes widened, and the shock to her soul had her auras blaring. “Repeat that.”
“My magic can perform a miracle to reform your body to its former vitality in all ways. You would be alive in all senses of the word.”
Cimmeria transformed into a beam of happiness. “Thank you!”
Hesiod cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “There’s a bit of a problem.”
“There usually is,” Cimmeria grumbled, and her mood plummeted.
He was solemn as he delivered his message. “In short, to perform the miracle, I must wait for the exact moment when Khaos opens a channel for my magic. Usually, every seven years, on the spring or autumn equinox at the onset of a full or new moon. It doesn’t always happen this way, but there have to be certain alignments and criteria for the miracle to occur. The best chance is when the first witch constellations are brightest. I’ve had years where I did not produce a miracle, and my magic almost killed me. I might end up jaunting through the spirit realm with you instead of the other way around.”
“Well, that sounds unpleasant,” She sympathized.
Hesiod’s expression was benign as he elaborated, “It’s not the most stable magic to possess. I’m hoping to remove you from the stars first so we reduce any supernatural backfire when I restore your body. Right now, you bridge two worlds. What happens to you will affect those you are connected to on the world egg. People like me, who are descended from you. Altering your form will have consequences in the spirit realm as well. We want to mitigate as much catastrophe as possible. It was suggested that severing your ties with the spirit realm would be the best course of action. Once you have a body, you’ll be free to complete the heart song bond with Valen without any issues.”
Cimmeria couldn’t produce tears, but her soul wanted to weep with relief. “Thank you,” She breathed out and wrapped Hesiod in a grateful embrace.
Hesiod patted her on the shoulder and cleared his throat. “The witch council requires your consent to remove the piece of your soul connected to the constellation and to conjoin your soul with a new body. Do you wish to proceed?”
Cimmeria released her descendant and tapped her toe as she reflected. The chance to have a life with Valen had no contention on the rest of her decisions. “Yes. I’d like you to perform the miracle.”
Hesiod bowed and started to fade. “You can say no at the last minute. Don’t worry if you cannot go through with it. I’ll make sure that the council votes in favor of your relationship as a soul and living witch. It’s going to be your choice no matter if I perform the miracle for you or not.”
“Thank you, Hesiod. You bring honor to our bloodline.”
A wide smile stretched his face into luminous happiness, and his aura glowed bright like the stars. His astral projection blinked out of the spirit realm. Cimmeria spun to face Asteron, and both of their mouths hung open.
“I can’t believe it,” She collapsed in awe.
“I’ve never heard of a miracle witch,” Asteron blurted.
Cimmeria pressed her hand to her mouth. “He can restore me to life. With a body.”
“Khaos, but that’s next-level witch magic.”
She laughed at his reaction. “Where did you pick up that phrase?”
“I’ve been watching the young witches in their classrooms at the academy. They have fascinating lessons, but I find their use of the Libra language entertaining.”
She dropped her hand and studied Asteron. “Has the world egg caught your interest?”
He brushed aside her query. “I’m not drawn to the living like you. I’m curious, but I don’t want to be a part of the world egg. I had my life, and it was satisfying. I’m needed here in the spirit realm.”
She glanced at the world egg from her perch. “I have to discuss this with Valen.”
Asteron waved her off. “Go be with your heart song. I wish you luck and blessings, dear friend.”
Cimmeria brushed stardust off her skirts as she rose and snapped her fingers. In a flash of light, she traveled out of the spirit realm and landed in the townhouse belonging to Valen’s parents.
“Valen?” She called for her heart song.
“I’m here.”
She followed the tug on her soul that led to her heart song. He was studying star charts in the observatory. His tri-colored hair was twisted into a knot on top of his head as he tracked a finger down a manuscript. Valen was so intricate in his appearance, from his olive skin tone to his tall, lean frame. He was a blend of cultures and worlds, and each presented a piece of his beautiful character.
Her hips swayed as she drew near, and he turned his chin to gaze in her direction. His narrow slate-gray eyes observed her approach, and his penetrating regard ignited her soul. Valen straightened and shook down his silver, white, and chestnut mane. His mouth flipped a wicked grin, and he circled the table where he waited.
Cimmeria stopped a handbreadth away and crept her fingers up his chest. The flirtation was not a new form of language between them, but it was intensified by the unleashing of their heart song. The leaves rustled as magic fizzled in the air. Valen kept his hands limp at his sides, but he cocked his head to the side to watch her movements. Her other hand rose as she reached his collarbone, and she gripped the neckline of his blue cotton shirt.
His grin spread into an expression of seduction. Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips to his, and it flipped a switch. His magic billowed through her and pumped awareness into her spirit form. She felt his arms wrap around her, and their hips collided.
She tightened her fists as he slanted his mouth over hers and added tiny nips of his teeth. A deep timbre rattled from his throat and crawled along her tongue, where it vibrated between them. He swept his hands to her hair and clasped a swath between his fingers. Her mouth opened on a short deliverance of desire when he tugged her closer. He licked into the open space between her lips, and she felt sucked into his embrace.
Cimmeria hadn’t been a fan of tongues when she was alive, but whatever Valen did with his changed her entire outlook.
The burst of sensation targeting her mouth had her panting and clawing at his chest. His laugh was more breath than sound, and it puffed down her throat as she tumbled out of her mind and wrapped her soul in the kiss.
