Claire was the first one to break the kiss and step back. Marek stumbled back, flushed and breathing heavily.
“What?” Marek asked, his voice low with need. “What is it?”
Claire smiled. Once, such a thing would’ve made Marek wary, but now he loved it. Claire was beautiful and dangerous, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. She was the predator, and Marek was the prey, but he didn’t care. He only wanted her.
“Marek,” Claire said sweetly. “Marek, you must do something for me.”
“Anything,” Marek said. He stepped forward, bridging the distance between them. She’s a little taller than me, Marek thought idly, staring into her cold grey eyes. I never noticed that before.
Claire smiled coquettishly. “You are so close to freeing us both,” she whispered. Marek’s arms opened, and she fell into them. Marek held her tightly to him. He wanted to kiss her again, but something stopped him.
“So close,” she said again. “You’ve finally used the Diev-given power that you were born with. The staff is yours for the taking, Marek. Soon, you will be a god to rival the Creator himself.”
“The creator…” Marek said, his voice trailing off as something occurred to him. He felt strange, like he had just expended a great deal of Essence somehow. Where’s Ako?
He let go of Claire, frowning. Ako was just here, Marek thought, staring at the wall as he tried to piece together what exactly had happened. His hands unconsciously went to his chest to feel for the pendant that Marast had given to him, but that was gone too.
Marek started to sweat. He remembered working feverishly over the staff. There wasn’t much time before Yarran assaulted the castle and killed everyone left. He needed the pendant to give him counsel. He needed Ako at his side. He felt lost without either of them.
“Claire—” Marek started. He stopped, horrified as the memories came flooding back to him. He whirled to see Ako on the ground.
“NO!” Marek cried. He went to go to her but was stopped by Claire. She stood in his way with a determined expression on her beautiful face.
“She is dead, Marek,” Claire said. Her voice was gentle but firm. “She died saving you from your foolish mistake.”
“Foolish?!” Marek thundered. He jabbed a thumb upward to the surface. “There are scores of Kulok who want me and my people dead, Claire! I was doing everything I can to save them!”
“And yet you delved too deeply,” Claire said, shaking her head sorrowfully. “Ako saved you from your greed, Marek. You moved too swiftly. I was ready to step in whenever you called for aid, but you kept going far beyond your limits. It’s a miracle you survived.”
“Ako is dead,” Marek said. He was numb. He had barely heard a word past Claire’s first sentence. “I killed her.”
“You did,” Claire agreed. “Now, you must help those that remain. Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain, Marek. Think of those that remain who still are depending upon you. They need you to be strong. You need the Dominion Wood staff. With it, nothing will stand in your way.”
“I…” Marek said, his resolve buckling beneath Claire’s words. She speaks the truth, and yet nothing is worth Ako’s life. “You are just a woman, Claire, and while you speak truly, I must know for sure. Diev himself will advise me on what to do next.”
“What do you—” Claire began and then stopped and smiled mysteriously. “Ah, your pendant. It is Divine-Wrought, I think.”
“Yes,” Marek said. He backed up so that he was still facing her and picked up the pendant in front of the pedestal. “I need its guidance,” Marek said, placing his palm on it.
Marek flinched as the turquoise gem flared and hissed, warming rapidly. Claire looked at him questioningly, but Marek couldn’t respond as a glow of warm approval filled him. It wasn’t his own, and it wasn’t the same presence he felt before. It was something different, something far more powerful. The power level differentials made Marek feel like an ant looking up at a god and yet quailed in fear at it.
Be at peace, a voice said. The voice was as strong as the being’s presence, and Marek instantly felt peaceful. Who are you? Marek mentally thought through the pendant to what could only be Diev. Are you Diev?
There was a flash of annoyance that vanished so quickly that Marek wasn’t certain that he had felt it. It was replaced by the warm feeling that made Marek want to close his eyes and drift off peacefully. All his concerns and doubts washed away as if they had never existed.
I am Diev, Diev said through their mental link. I speak only to the worthy, and you have proven yourself more than worthy. It is your birthright and rightfully yours to claim.
I… Marek mentally stuttered, awed that he was speaking to the Creator, the one who had created the universe from nothing. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many answers that he could receive.
Marek shook his head at the idea. No. Ako was dead, and Anton and Wyatt were in mortal peril. They needed him.
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What must I do?
Good, you do not shirk from your duty, Diev’s voice rang with approval. You can rely on Claire to assist you.
You know her?
You are all mine, Diev said. Something like annoyance flickered again, then changed back into the blissful feeling that Marek was coming to relish. You are all my children. Help her, and she will help you.
At this, Diev’s presence vanished, leaving Marek feeling empty. There was now something in him that desperately wanted to be filled again. Marek closed his tear-filled eyes, willing the feelings of loss down. The feelings didn’t quite vanish, but he didn’t feel as though he was about to burst into tears either.
“Well?” Claire asked eagerly, pressing into his side. Marek opened his eyes to see that Claire was right next to him. He put an arm around her and looked up at the staff.
“He said that I could trust you,” Marek said quietly, giving Claire a squeeze.
“Him?”
“Diev,” Marek said, awed. “I spoke to the Creator.”
“You will become better than him,” Claire said. She pulled herself out of Marek’s grasp and passed him a knife. Marek took it, staring down at it uncomprehendingly.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
“You must break through the wards,” Claire said, nodding to the knife. “And to do that, you will need to conduct a blood ritual.”
“Blood rituals are banned by the Council,” Marek said flatly. “They are incredibly dangerous.”
“The Council!” Claire snarled. “The Council are led by a bunch of greedy old men who watch the world pass them by.”
“But blood magic…” Marek said, his voice trailing off. “It was banned for a reason.”
Claire slapped Marek so hard that his head rolled back, and he stumbled a few steps. Confused, Marek raised a hand to his cheek and blinked at her, bewildered.
“You should know better,” Claire hissed. “You should know that nothing should stand in your way if you desire it. Power is only for those who are willing to do what is necessary. Do you want to save your friends and those that depend on you?”
“Yes, more than anything,” Marek said, looking down at the knife clenched in his hand. “I don’t know how to conduct rituals. They were banned just before I started learning at the Citadel.”
“Fools,” Claire said, her voice dripping with scorn. “They seek to hoard their knowledge, but they only weaken themselves in the end. Three generations from now, there won’t be a Citadel if they continue such foolishness.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Marek growled. He was now clenching the knife so hard that his knuckles whitened. “Tell me what I must do,” Marek said. “I will do anything to save them.”
“Good,” Claire said, smiling again. “The ritual you will be conducting is relatively easy, as you will simply be overloading the magics protecting the staff. She waved a hand, and illusions of symbols appeared around the pedestal. “Slice your hand. You will use your blood to fuel your carvings.”
Marek nodded, slicing his hand. It hurt, and he clamped his fist to keep the blood from escaping.
“Good,” Claire nodded approvingly. “Now, you will carve these symbols…”
Claire helped Marek write symbols around the pedestal in his own blood. He didn’t recognize them, although he could feel a faint hint of power contained within them. He didn’t know what they were, perhaps words in a different language he had never seen before. The thought frightened him, as the potential for abuse was there, but Marek doggedly continued working. I’m committed now, there’s no turning back.
“You are ready,” Claire said. Her smile was coy, but her eyes were bright with eagerness. “Now, channel your magic again. Your blood will fuel your magical power to greater heights.”
Marek hesitated. “What exactly will this do?” Marek asked. “Why blood? What language is this?”
“Does it matter?” Claire asked him. “If it does what you need and saves your friends, does it matter what language it’s in or what exactly it does?”
Marek considered this. “No,” he said after some consideration. “No, it doesn’t.”
Marek began to channel, focusing his efforts on the words that he had written in blood around the pedestal. He didn’t have much Essence, but with Claire he felt like he could do anything.
“Yes,” Claire purred. “Use your power, Marek. Use it all to get what you desire most.”
Marek grunted as his channeling immediately took a toll. A weight continued to build in his chest, and it quickly became uncomfortable.
“I… will need… help,” Marek ground out. It had only been less than an hour since he had used almost all his Essence, not nearly enough time to recuperate.
“Yes, you will,” Claire said from behind him. Her voice was low and smug. “You’re mine, Marek. Body and soul.”
“What—” Marek began and screamed as a searing pain swept through him. He turned back to look for Claire, but she was gone.
You’re mine, Marek, Claire’s voice echoed in Marek’s mind. Mine to do with as I will.
“No!” Marek screamed. Claire swirled some of her Essence to his own. His horror returned as he realized that he could not move on his own accord.
Such power, Claire whispered. She laughed, the sounds of her glee piercing through Marek’s mind painfully. Marek cried out, but he couldn’t even lift his hands to cover his ears. A living, breathing vessel fully under my full control.
You said you would help me! That you would help my friends!
I lied.