Sea Glass
Page 8
Ulrick could be in Ognap by now. If he was, then it would prove Devlen’s claims that Ulrick agreed to the switch. If he found the other Warpers, then they’re all together and I would have to deal with three powerful magicians. But it would also mean I could drain and neutralize three more blood magicians. Which was fine with me. The sooner the better.
Before, Ulrick’s skills were limited—his glass vases also trapped magic within them, but the magic transferred emotions rather than thoughts. Could he still use his own magic? Or had it remained with his body? I asked Devlen.
“No. Besides not knowing how to blow glass, all my own magic stayed with my soul.”
“How does blood magic work?” I asked.
Devlen sipped his ale. “Everyone has a soul. Therefore, everyone has magic. But not all can access the power source and use their magic potential. Only magicians can link their magic to the blanket of power.”
“I know all this. I studied at the Magician’s Keep for the past five years.”
“Humor me.” His finger traced the wood grain on the table. “Blood magic binds a person’s soul magic to his blood. It attaches energy to a physical substance. After the binding is achieved, blood can be drawn from the person and injected into another. The Warpers would mix the blood with tattoo ink and inject it into the skin.”
Devlen rubbed his arm as if remembering the prick of pain. “For the first level of the Kirakawa ritual, only a small amount is needed. The blood gives the Warper a boost of magic, and instead of drawing a thin thread of power from the blanket, he could pull a thicker strand. If the blood…donor is not a magician, the boost is weaker than blood from a magician.”
His gaze trapped mine. “This is where it becomes interesting. If the person receiving the blood is not a magician and the donor is not a magician, nothing happens. But if the nonmagical person injects blood from a magician, he gains the ability to connect with the power source. He becomes a magician. Think about it. Everyone could be a magician. Everyone would be equal. What is wrong with that?”
A persuasive argument, except for the one thing. “But it’s addicting. No one stops at the first level. The first few levels are benign, but once you get to level nine—”
“Ten is when the killings begin. And at level twelve the heart’s blood is harvested from the chambers of a heart. The final step reaps the most potent magic. Because the heart is where the soul resides.”
I shuddered, remembering the bloodstained sand at the Magician’s Keep. Sudden pride at my deeds during the Warper battle flared. Those who knew how to perform the last two levels of the Kirakawa had been imprisoned in my glass animals and hidden. Devlen had hoped to use me to find his captured mentor and finish the Kirakawa.
“What level were you on?” I asked.
“Eight.”
The word hung between us like a dark cloud. I pondered his explanation and encountered an anomaly. “The magic blood is injected into your skin, but when you switched bodies with Ulrick the tattoos didn’t go with you.”
“Correct. The extra magic stayed with my body. When I entered Ulrick’s, I only carried my original magic, which was strong.” He tapped his mug on the table. “Interesting. The addiction clung to me even when I swapped bodies.”
Horrifying was closer to the truth. If Devlen switched back to his body, he would have access to magic again and Ulrick would still be addicted.
He touched my hand. I recoiled. “When you stole my magic, you took away my greed for power. You could do the same for Ulrick.”
Ulrick had been frustrated with his limited magical abilities. To render him without any magic at all would be devastating. “I’m not sure he would want me to.”
“Does not matter what he wants. If you do not drain him, he will desire more magic and he has learned how to acquire it.”
With blood magic. “How could you say it doesn’t have to be ill used? Eventually anyone using it will advance to a point where he needs to kill in order to satisfy the hunger.”
“The desire to increase your power does not influence what you choose to do with your magic. Once acquired, I could do good things like heal and help others with it. The Daviian Warpers believed Sitia needed stronger leadership. They used their powers to overthrow the Council because they felt Ixia was on the verge of invading us, and the current Council would be ineffective in repelling them.”
“They were wrong.”
Devlen shrugged. “For now. Ixia’s Commander could always change his mind.”
“I can’t get past the fact of having to murder another to finish the ritual.”
He considered. “You could find someone on the edge of dying and take his soul right before he passes.”
“But then you deny him eternal peace in the sky.”
“Only if he was headed to the sky. What if the fire world claimed him? Given the choice of eternal pain or helping another, I have no doubt he would choose to stay.”
I almost agreed to the benefits of his scenario before I realized he had used his golden tongue to twist his words again. And I had fallen for it. Again.
His gaze slid pass me and a wry smile touched his lips. “Such a good boy. Right on time.”
I turned. Janco and four Sitian guards hustled toward us.
Devlen spread his hands wide, showing he was unarmed, but his attention never left me. “I enjoyed our conversation.”
Two guards rushed him. They jerked him to his feet and slammed him face-first onto the table. He offered no resistance despite being armed with Janco’s sword, which Janco wasted no time in reclaiming. Frisked and manacled, Devlen was pulled upright. The amused smile remained on his now-bloody lips.
Before, Ulrick’s skills were limited—his glass vases also trapped magic within them, but the magic transferred emotions rather than thoughts. Could he still use his own magic? Or had it remained with his body? I asked Devlen.
“No. Besides not knowing how to blow glass, all my own magic stayed with my soul.”
“How does blood magic work?” I asked.
Devlen sipped his ale. “Everyone has a soul. Therefore, everyone has magic. But not all can access the power source and use their magic potential. Only magicians can link their magic to the blanket of power.”
“I know all this. I studied at the Magician’s Keep for the past five years.”
“Humor me.” His finger traced the wood grain on the table. “Blood magic binds a person’s soul magic to his blood. It attaches energy to a physical substance. After the binding is achieved, blood can be drawn from the person and injected into another. The Warpers would mix the blood with tattoo ink and inject it into the skin.”
Devlen rubbed his arm as if remembering the prick of pain. “For the first level of the Kirakawa ritual, only a small amount is needed. The blood gives the Warper a boost of magic, and instead of drawing a thin thread of power from the blanket, he could pull a thicker strand. If the blood…donor is not a magician, the boost is weaker than blood from a magician.”
His gaze trapped mine. “This is where it becomes interesting. If the person receiving the blood is not a magician and the donor is not a magician, nothing happens. But if the nonmagical person injects blood from a magician, he gains the ability to connect with the power source. He becomes a magician. Think about it. Everyone could be a magician. Everyone would be equal. What is wrong with that?”
A persuasive argument, except for the one thing. “But it’s addicting. No one stops at the first level. The first few levels are benign, but once you get to level nine—”
“Ten is when the killings begin. And at level twelve the heart’s blood is harvested from the chambers of a heart. The final step reaps the most potent magic. Because the heart is where the soul resides.”
I shuddered, remembering the bloodstained sand at the Magician’s Keep. Sudden pride at my deeds during the Warper battle flared. Those who knew how to perform the last two levels of the Kirakawa had been imprisoned in my glass animals and hidden. Devlen had hoped to use me to find his captured mentor and finish the Kirakawa.
“What level were you on?” I asked.
“Eight.”
The word hung between us like a dark cloud. I pondered his explanation and encountered an anomaly. “The magic blood is injected into your skin, but when you switched bodies with Ulrick the tattoos didn’t go with you.”
“Correct. The extra magic stayed with my body. When I entered Ulrick’s, I only carried my original magic, which was strong.” He tapped his mug on the table. “Interesting. The addiction clung to me even when I swapped bodies.”
Horrifying was closer to the truth. If Devlen switched back to his body, he would have access to magic again and Ulrick would still be addicted.
He touched my hand. I recoiled. “When you stole my magic, you took away my greed for power. You could do the same for Ulrick.”
Ulrick had been frustrated with his limited magical abilities. To render him without any magic at all would be devastating. “I’m not sure he would want me to.”
“Does not matter what he wants. If you do not drain him, he will desire more magic and he has learned how to acquire it.”
With blood magic. “How could you say it doesn’t have to be ill used? Eventually anyone using it will advance to a point where he needs to kill in order to satisfy the hunger.”
“The desire to increase your power does not influence what you choose to do with your magic. Once acquired, I could do good things like heal and help others with it. The Daviian Warpers believed Sitia needed stronger leadership. They used their powers to overthrow the Council because they felt Ixia was on the verge of invading us, and the current Council would be ineffective in repelling them.”
“They were wrong.”
Devlen shrugged. “For now. Ixia’s Commander could always change his mind.”
“I can’t get past the fact of having to murder another to finish the ritual.”
He considered. “You could find someone on the edge of dying and take his soul right before he passes.”
“But then you deny him eternal peace in the sky.”
“Only if he was headed to the sky. What if the fire world claimed him? Given the choice of eternal pain or helping another, I have no doubt he would choose to stay.”
I almost agreed to the benefits of his scenario before I realized he had used his golden tongue to twist his words again. And I had fallen for it. Again.
His gaze slid pass me and a wry smile touched his lips. “Such a good boy. Right on time.”
I turned. Janco and four Sitian guards hustled toward us.
Devlen spread his hands wide, showing he was unarmed, but his attention never left me. “I enjoyed our conversation.”
Two guards rushed him. They jerked him to his feet and slammed him face-first onto the table. He offered no resistance despite being armed with Janco’s sword, which Janco wasted no time in reclaiming. Frisked and manacled, Devlen was pulled upright. The amused smile remained on his now-bloody lips.
