Wyrd Blood by Donna Augustine
Prologue
Brief History of the World
In 1620 BC (Before the Change), magic sprang into existence. No one knew why or how this occurred, as there had never been magic in the world before. Some speculated that it was because of the dual eclipse of the moons. Others said it was because the planet shifted on its axis. But no one had any logical theories on why some people were gifted with magic, and others were not. Or why magic would skip several generations. The only thing that was brutally obvious to all was that magic was power and this was the beginning of a new world.
By 391 AC (After the Change), people gifted with magic had taken control of every country in the land. The power structure had shifted and righted itself to this magical reign and a new normal had taken shape. The Wyrd Blood, as those with magic in their veins were sometimes called, were hoarded as commodities by their stronger brethren. They were kept in gilded cages, bred for more magic, more power.
But even as people found their footing in this new world, no one realized what world they’d be soon living in once the Magical War of 810 began. Because those with the thirst for power are seldom satisfied until they have it all.
Chapter 1
910 AC
Ryker stood leaning beside the open door, his face silhouetted by the full moon shining behind him. I didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the burn of their stare. The same night breeze that ruffled his dark hair caressed my skin, taunting me with a hint of freedom. It was a stark contrast to the cold stone wall at my back, as I sat in the windowless room.
The world unfolded ten feet away, yet I didn’t have any hope of reaching it because of one wrong decision. Wasn’t that the way of it, though? A single misstep and everything crumbled around you. Safety, permanency, they were the grand illusions we all tried to partake in. Eventually, though, the truth would shine its harsh light on our endless vulnerabilities. That was when the true survivors stood, while the weak crawled into the shadows.
I wouldn’t be among the weak. I forced the fear down, into a dark pit within, as I had so many times before in my life. The regrets were harder to swallow back, but I did, knowing he was searching for weakness. I wouldn’t give this man a crumb. He already had too much power, and I wouldn’t take part in any illusion of my defeat. I wasn’t finished yet, not by a magic mile.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest, his white shirt pulled tight over broad shoulders as he made himself more comfortable. I sat stiff as a board, afraid to reveal anything while we sized each other up in the darkened silence.
“How many days are you going to sit here?” He raised his hand, mocking me as he made a show of counting his fingers. “Going to need the second hand soon.”
I didn’t laugh at his crude joke. Didn’t scowl, either. I’d figure a way out of this mess, and then we’d see who was gloating.
He didn’t like me. I didn’t like him either, so at least in that, we were on an even playing field.
His hand dropped. “You must realize this is a waste of time.”
His tone was that of a person who thought they had all the control. I said nothing, as I had for the last four nights he’d come, my insides charring from restrained anger.
He turned his head, his hawkish profile partially revealed in moonlight. He smiled, and it added a chill to the already cold room.
“What if I tire of this game and kill you? Aren’t you afraid to die?”
I was already dying. Probably that much quicker, too, in this hole. I quickly blocked the thought as his magic reached out. I tried my best to keep up my defenses as his magic swirled in the air and filled the room, testing me, surrounding me, trying to find my weaknesses as it attempted to lure me into letting down my defenses.
He might beat me eventually. He was strong, stronger than anyone I’d ever met. But if this was my time to cross the Styx into the forever night, I was going with a fight.
I’d die here if need be. That was the craziest part of knowing you were dying. It trimmed off all the should-haves and cut you right down to your essence. It was a gift of freedom, cursed with a lack of time. It made you think back to everything you’d done, every decision, every word, and see it in that harsh light. Some actions shone and some cast a dark shadow on your timeline.
He crossed his arms in front of him, his forearms rippling. “You’re going to give me what I want.”
I shrugged, a silent Think whatever you want. Time will tell.
I tilted my head back, looking at the ceiling. “Are we finished for tonight?”
He let out a short laugh that, unlike the smile, sounded genuine. “I’ll leave you to your amusements until tomorrow.”
He walked out and shut the door to the empty room while I shined that harsh light back over the last week of my life, and the regrets flooded back to the surface.
Chapter 2
Eight days earlier…
A hand gripped my shoulder and a surge of energy shot to the area before I could stop it.
The hand was gone, followed by a string of “Gods, fucking, magic, fucker…”
My eyes slanted open to Ruck shaking the singed hand in the air. He said it was similar to a burning feeling, but it felt more like a zap of energy on my end.
“Sorry.” I’d long ago stopped trying to explain how it was an automatic reflex when I was startled. Ruck had heard it too many times before to bother repeating. I pushed off my pelt on the floor and glanced through the gaping hole in the wall that had once probably held a window, as the rest of the holes probably had. The moon still hung in the sky. “What’s up?”
Ruck stared at his hand, so whatever reason he had to wake me, he didn’t deem it as important as the throbbing. “I hate that I’m the only one who can wake you up.” His tone didn’t have much heat, though, and most of the anger ebbed with the sting.
“I keep telling you to poke me with a stick or something.” I pointed to the corner, where I’d left a stick handy. I knew why he didn’t do it, whether he’d admit it or not. He thought maybe if he got zapped by my magic enough, some of it might seep into him. Wanting to be Wyrd Blood was like asking for someone to stamp a price tag on your hide. That didn’t seem to stop some from trying.
“What’s up?” I repeated, knowing there had to be some reason he was waking me, when it was his least favorite thing to do.
“Reilly is here. Wants to talk to you.”
I flopped down back onto the pelt, the floor a little harder underneath than I would’ve liked. I kept forgetting that I’d given Marra one of my pelts. “Just because he runs his crew at night doesn’t mean he can’t communicate during the day. Did he say what he wanted?”
“He’s not giving details, but I don’t think he wants anyone to know he’s here. He came alone.”
My attention jerked back to Ruck as if he’d grabbed my chin. Alone? Why the hell would he come alone?
The questions must’ve been written all over me, because he nodded, as if to say, Yeah, you probably want to find out what this is about.
“I’ll be down in two minutes.” I stood back up and rummaged through the small pile of clothes I had in the corner, looking for something warmer to throw over my shirt.