Page 82 of The Musician and the Monster

“In the name of the Goddess.” Malik stuck his hand out toward Drystan. “Do you?”

Drystan took Malik’s hand. “In the name of the Goddess.”

Hope blossomed between their clasped hands. If his cousin held true, they might just have a chance.

“So.” Malik grinned like a cat. “About that plan…”

Chapter 38

Ceridwen

For the three nights, they worked on the Gray Blade.

Drystan had already completed the light spells required. Only the dark remained. Unfortunately, that meant Malik couldn’t work the spells himself given his avoidance of dark magic. However, he still found a way to assist. Malik wove a ring of light magic protection spells around the altar, ones to help contain the darkness should Drystan lose control again.

Ceridwen played the flute to calm the monster within while Drystan worked the remaining spell.

The night before, he’d almost transformed into the monster again. His eyes flashed red. His limbs warped and stretched. Only her music held the magic in check, and barely at that.

He’d halted his spell, unwilling to let the monster break free.

But they were running out of days. He couldn’t put it off forever. So tonight, he resolved to try the last spell one more time.

Ceridwen hugged her arms about herself as she stared out the window of Drystan’s tower. Courage failed her when she tried to ask what came next. How did Drystan plan to kill his uncle? Who would keep him safe? Would he take her with him?

Part of her knew she wouldn’t like the answers.

Malik’s muttered words tickled her senses as he worked. The falling snow and cold air couldn’t distract her grim thoughts or knowledge of the patterns of blood he traced.

So much blood…

Some of it theirs. Some animal. Other donated by the residents of the castle. She’d offered hers, but the men refused. Both of them would bear new scars on their bodies, preferring to use their own as much as possible.

The faintest hint of moonlight crept through the cloudy sky, highlighting the heavy flakes as they drifted down to join their brethren upon the manor and the city beyond. Ceridwen could almost see her family house just a few blocks away.

Drystan slid next to her, wrapping a fresh bandage around his hand.

“Why work the spells at night?” she asked.

“Dark magic is stronger at night,” Drystan said. “Light magic works better in the day. I need the spells to be at their strongest for this working.”

She nodded along. It made a certain sense since the monster always reared its head after sunset—nights when Drystan must have worked the strongest of his spells, or the most reckless ones.

Ceridwen jumped when his arms wrapped around her. A cocoon of warmth settled over her as she relaxed against him. A hint of leather and a light floral note, likely belonging to one of the many plants Drystan tended, lulled her into a momentary peace. He kissed her with passion each night and each day, but never tried for more. A part of her resented that. Another part chided herself for not being more forward with him herself. But deep down, she knew it probably had something to do with his plans to return to the capital, the uncertainty of his—their—future.

She let herself float away until Malik’s voice interrupted the bubble of warmth. “It’s done.”

Cold rushed back in as Drystan released her. He had work to do. As did she. Malik would stay nearby in case he needed to reinforce his spells, or to protect her if the worst should happen.

Ceridwen took a seat in a cushioned chair set up near the stairs. Drystan had even managed to pull together a makeshift music stand so that she could play the third movement ofThe Blessings of the Goddessas he worked. It wouldn’t be her best performance—she’d yet to memorize or perfect the melody. However, it would likely be only the first of many songs if everything went according to plan.

Three songs in, she thought they were finally safe.

The third movement turned out more beautifully than she imagined. So much so it nearly brought tears to her eyes. Finally, she’d gotten it right on her first playthrough. Ceridwen played the second and first movements after it, playing the whole concerto in reverse order.

Then, Drystan’s posture shifted abruptly. A groan marred the words of his spell. Ceridwen nearly dropped her flute when his eyes flickered to red instead of their traditional deep blue.

“Keep playing,” Malik whispered beside her, calm amid the change threatening to take place before them.

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