L.O.S.T. Trilogy Box Set by R.S. Collins

Author:R.S. Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, adventure, fantasy, paranormal, magic, young adult, witches, wicca, teen
Publisher: Cheyenne McCray LLC

Chapter Nine

Blood seemed to be everywhere all at once. My heart hammered. “Bren. Look at me. Think with me. We have to slow the blood flow.”

Pale, with teeth clenched—he was shaking violently. Could he hear me? He swore once, twice, then met my eyes. The misery I saw in his face tore at my heart. I placed Acaw’s staff on the ground by his side, hoping the ancient elfling-crafted wood might lend him some strength.

Together, we murmured a spell of basic healing. Gold and silver energy flowed between us, then over Bren’s maimed hand. He grunted, then swore more as the light sizzled and crackled over the stumps where his missing fingers should have been. The bleeding slowed to a trickle, then gradually stopped. The magic was no more than a bandage. He needed true healing, deep healing, time, and safety—none of which I could grant him at the moment.

The strain of the ceasing spell began to pull at both of us, and Bren sagged backward in my arms. I couldn’t hold him up, so I eased him down on the blood-soaked grass. Even his face was covered in blood where his scar had been re-opened. His eyes fluttered and closed.

The spell—the battle—what could I do? Would the magic fail when I stepped away from him, even though we’d practiced doing some magic apart? Bren would be a helpless target…

Slowly, carefully, I broke contact with Bren enough to stand. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off his chest, watching it move up and down, up and down. He was wounded, but not dead.

Not dead. Not dead. Not dead.

The devastation around me was unimaginable. I had no idea who had been slain, who was alive, or who could be saved. Tears washed down my face as I bent down, grabbed Acaw’s staff, and risked moving a few steps away from Bren. I still felt his magic, his power, mingling with mine.

The spell held. Thank the Goddess. I had to think. What—how—there had to be—

Gripping the staff, I drew from its innate power and stared at the ribbons of energy connecting Bren to me, and an idea formed. Biting my lip, letting the pain focus my will, I teased a little of my gold from his silver. The gold didn’t want to cooperate, but I narrowed my eyes and forced it into compliance. Bit by bit, I moved the strand out, out, toward the solid form of Rol.

My knees started to give. The effort of so many spells when I had been so long without magic, without practice or training…

Grinding my teeth, I refused any negative thoughts. The gold light wavered, then snaked toward Rol, wrapping around his feet.

The moment it touched him, he roused from his motionless state. The arrow he had been firing flew and struck its mark. A small hole opened in the head of one of the harpies. I winced, wanted to shout—but it was too late to take back my actions.

Rol whirled and stared at me. Awe filled his handsome ebony face.

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