Silver Blood

Chapter 18

Roan let go of her and her knees gave out beneath the all-consuming pain. The magic didn't stop; it pumped through her veins, searing every last inch of her. The crimson strands spiraled into the center of the crystal as the magic continued pulling blood from her wound. The crystal greedily sucked up the blood, turning the clear orb red.

Next to her Roan let out a gasp of pain. He stumbled off the platform and fell to one knee, his left hand clutching at the wrist of his right. "What is happening?" His voice came out breathless as drops of his blood floated into the crystal.

"Purification," Bellon answered, his tone dry.

"I'm not a shadow bearer." Roan grit his teeth, his back arching.

Bellon snorted in derision. "No, but you are a light bearer."

"Make it quick," Moira snapped from the doorway. "You're making them suffer. You promised they wouldn't." Her voice cracked. "Make it stop."

Bellon grabbed Lorana by her hair, bunching it in his hand. Her eyes widened when he tipped her head back. Her body shook as each beat in the magic pulled more blood from her. The magic was everywhere, all around and all through her. Inescapable. "Sorry about this," he said, his voice sounding distant to her ears compared to the gnashing, angry whispers flooding her head. "Normally I'd do this first to avoid the pain, but I couldn't risk lover boy trying to stop me." His dagger rose to her throat. He paused to get the right angle. "It'll only take a minute once I make the right cut."

"N-no," she said, pain making her voice weak and the movement causing her skin to scrape against the blade. She started to kick at his knee until a fresh wave of pain froze her in place, stealing her breath away and silencing her scream before it could begin.

Then Bellon tipped to the side, losing his footing as he fell over the edge of the altar platform. Roan panted as he let go of Bellon's leg. His left arm shook as he pulled his sword free. He sliced through the strands of crimson dancing from Lorana toward the crystal. The slice did nothing but coat his sword in fresh blood and sent the dots of his blood swirling through the air.

"How do I stop it?" he asked, his voice frantic. He sliced again and again with the same result. Blood glinted off the metal of his blade, but the magic continued siphoning. He tried one last time, but when he raised his sword he stumbled forward, the sword shaking as he dropped his arm.

Bellon let out a bitter laugh. "You can't, but damn if I don't respect your strength." He didn't bother to pull his sword. He ran at Roan, ready to tackle him. Roan slammed the hilt of his sword into Bellon's head. Bellon didn't so much as flinch. "Don't bother. My family are iron skins from the rocky plains." The iron bloods from the plains were known for being able to harden their skin until it was as hard as iron. Lorana only knew about them because Corwin once lost money on a bet in a fight some farmer held outside of town. The man he betted on lost to an iron blood with iron skin and Corwin got a firm lecture from father on gambling.

Bellon threw himself against Roan a second time. Roan couldn't dodge fast enough as the pain slowed him down, the shaking in his hands getting worse. Bellon grabbed him by the throat and drove him back until he was half bent over the rise in the floor, his back bent at an uncomfortable angle as he stared up at the crystal. Lorana's knees buckled but wouldn't give. It felt as if the magic held her up like a child's puppet toy, freezing her limbs in place. She pushed her magic out, but the crystal sucked it up like her blood.

Movement caught her eye. She glanced up as high as she could with the magic locking her head in place. A shadowy figure climbed down the crystal's rope, dragging the darkness down the rope with him, giving the illusion of the ceiling pressing in on them.