Page 143 of The Seeker
But this magic was blood magic meant to tap into the essential human nature of the Irin race. Humanity was what set the Irin apart from the Fallen. It was their human blood that gave them conscience.
Human blood was the key. Human blood needed to be spilled, and Irina were half human.
Damien and Rhys were preparing their needles by the sacred fire in Rhys and Meera’s tent. Ata stood over them, watching while Damien referenced the memory stone.
“Do you think we’ll all be necessary?” Rhys asked. “Two mated pairs almost seems like overkill.”
Damien said, “Overkill is never a bad idea when you’re dealing with an angel.”
Ata said, “It would work with only one of the singers. But Nalu killed many of our people before the spell overwhelmed him. I’m hoping that with both Sari and Meera performing it, the magic will work more quickly.”
Damien looked up from his needle. “And you?”
“A scribe’s magic is never as potent after death. Akune’s magic is more memory than power to me now.”
Meera felt the words in her chest in a way she couldn’t have before. Even in their nascent mating, she felt profoundly tied to Rhys. She tried to imagine losing him, and it took her to such a dark, rage-filled place she needed to back away.
No. Never. It could not be.
But that loss, that rending, was exactly what Ata had lived with for hundreds of years.
And she wants to die. She is doing all this so she can die to be with her mate.
It was a desire Meera felt more keenly now.
“Why did you change your mind?” Meera asked.
Ata looked up. “Why do you care? Do you want to learn or not?”
“I want to learn.”
“Then be quiet and wait for your mate’s mark.”
Rhys and Damien walked over. Meera and Sari had bared their backs, leaning forward on cushions so their mates would have an easier time giving them tattoos.
“Are you ready?” Rhys asked quietly.
Meera nodded, but she couldn’t speak.
Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.
Thetalesmwould start on her left side near her waist. It would rise up to her heart, over her shoulder, and across her back before it trailed down the right side. It was a single line. A single spell, and not one mistake could be made.
Damien settled behind Sari, his touch easy and sure.“Milá?”
“I’m ready.” Sari closed her eyes, and Damien kissed her spine a second before he began to write. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”
“Are you sure?” Rhys asked Meera more hesitantly.
Meera thought about the dark lines marking Ata’s body and knew from that moment forward she would wear magic on her skin. Martial magic. Violent magic.
Blessed are the peacemakers.
The old human proverb sprang to her mind. Could one be a peacemaker when she was fundamentally marked by violence?
Meera would just have to see.
“I’m sure.” She gripped the edge of the pillow. “Go.”
