Page 77 of The Salted Sceptre
I was grateful that he’d allowed me to babble on for as long as I had. I considered prevaricating and spinning out this dance for longer but there wasn’t really any need: I was only delaying the inevitable. I drew in a deep breath and filled my lungs to breaking point. Then I exhaled. ‘You already know what my answer is.’
Athair’s expression grew stonier. Yeah, he knew. His golden hands curled into tight fists. I saw with a brief jolt of shock that he’d dug his fingernails into his palms with such force that blood was dribbling through his fingers and splashing onto the ground.
‘Say it,’ he bit out.
I would if he insisted. ‘I’m not going to join you,’ I said aloud. ‘I am not your daughter, not in any sense that actually matters. I will not use blood magic. I will not become a fiend. I have no desire to be a soulless, friendless creature that cares for naught but herself. I don’t need more power or more wealth or a longer life. It’s quality, not quantity, that counts. You are on your own. Forever.’
Athair’s tone was devoid of emotion as he whispered, ‘Then you have signed your own death warrant. Yours and everyoneelse’s that you’ve ever cared for.’ He raised his hand and there was a spark of flame above our heads. It flickered and started to grow. Within seconds it was big enough to swallow up several bogles.
He laughed coldly then snapped his fingers and sent the gigantic fireball flying at high speed towards the front of the Royal Elvish Institute. I held my breath – but the vast ball of flame didn’t reach the grand building. Two metres before it hit the stone façade, it jerked, sizzled and vanished.
I gazed at the spot where the fireball had been. ‘Aw.’ I pursed my lips. ‘Where did it go?’
Athair’s eyes narrowed. He flicked his fingers and repeated the process. The second fireball was larger and hotter than his first one, but when he threw it at the building exactly the same thing happened.
I smacked my lips in satisfaction. ‘It so happens that I’m friends with a couple of very powerful sorcerers,’ I said. Boonder was skilled at modern runes and Gordon was an expert in ancient ones; when their skills were combined, their ability to draw an effective ward was extraordinary.
‘No ward will stand against the might of my magic for long,’ Athair snarled.
I sniffed. ‘I seem to recall that my mother managed to create one that kept you out of the Assigney mansion for weeks.’
‘That was blood magic.’
True.
‘And at the time I didn’t want to hurt your mother,’ Athair said. ‘Or you. These circumstances are very different. I’m going to raze that fucking elvish building to the ground.’
He raised his hands in the air then thrust them downwards as he conjured up a wave of rumbling earth magic. The manicured grass across Charlotte Square ruptured as the tremor blasted towards the Royal Elvish Institute. Even though themagic was directed away from me, I was still thrown off my feet. I landed on my back with a thump, just in time to see the forceful earthquake shudder to a halt.
As I heaved myself back upright, a voice called out from one of the upper windows. ‘Mud McAlpine has established root magic beneath this ground! No earth magic shall penetrate it!’
I grinned and waved at the witch. ‘You know, Mud is an incredibly powerful witch,’ I said to Athair. ‘He banished the fiend called Zashtum all on his own.’
If this was news to Athair, he didn’t show it. ‘Zashtum was weak. No witch can banishme. As I’ve already proved.’
That part was probably true. Unfortunately. ‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat.’
Athair smiled nastily in response. ‘Indeed.’ He sprang upwards, landing on the backside of Prince Albert’s bronze horse. For a centuries-old prick, he certainly was nimble.
From his high vantage point, he moved his arms one way and his hands another. It took me a moment to realise what he was doing: he was conducting his own orchestra. There were no violinists or cellists, and certainly no woodwind section, but there were dozens upon dozens of cumbubbling vampires.
He drew upon one group, which comprised around fifty vamps, and they broke away from the others to advance upon the institute. Athair twirled his wrists and flicked his fingers. The vampires immediately screeched a loud response and threw themselves towards the ward. They bounced off it then picked themselves up and threw their bodies at it again. I realised they would repeat that movement over and over again with no regard for their soft, rotting flesh.
‘Worth a try,’ Athair muttered, then he called down to me. ‘I might not be able to get into that building just yet, daughter, but it won’t hold out against for me long. Besides, this is Edinburgh.’ He grinned toothily. ‘You can’t ward every building in the city.It’s a shame there are no longer any orphanages in existence – still, I’m sure my fanged darlings can find some tasty families to snack on while your friends cower inside the elves’ shithouse. Watch this, darling Daisy. Watch the power you could have enjoyed for yourself.’
He twirled on the back of the horse, flinging out his arms and directing those blasted bloodsuckers away from Charlotte Square towards other streets, other doors and other homes.
I licked my lips as fear scorched my veins – but then there were several loud screeches as vehicles skidded through the streets towards the square.
Unable to see what was happening, I took a few steps backwards, just in time to spot an armoured car approach one group of marauding vampires. It spun to the side, halted and a window lowered enough for one of the vehicle’s occupants to point a weapon. The muzzle of a gun appeared but it didn’t fire bullets; instead it jetted out a spray of liquid.
I watched the arc of fine droplets mist through the air. They looked innocuous; to anyone who didn’t know better, they could simply have been water. But I knew better, and when the liquid hit the stampeding vampires they knew better, too.
Their screams echoed through the night sky as the enhanced vamp spray ate through their flesh in seconds. The first wave fell to their knees and pitched forward; the second wave collapsed, writhing, onto their companions. Each droplet ate through hair, skin, flesh and bone; as soon as it hit their rotting brains, it was game over. It was incredibly satisfying to watch.
Athair howled in rage, though not because he cared about his army of undead warriors. It was simply that he hated not being in full control. He directed his anger at the armoured car, sparking out magical lightning in its direction. When that didn’t work, he blasted it with air magic.
The vehicle could withstand a barrage of bullets but it couldn’t repel a powerful fiend’s magic. I grimaced as it overturned, hoping the occupants would be alright.
