Retribution (69 page)

Quin landed next to his family. Then he filled Layla with magical warmth while casting a spell to protect her feet, ankles and calves. After lowering her soles to the frozen earth, he reached up and felt her face. “Are you warm?”

“Yes,” she assured, nuzzling his palm.
 

“Let me know if that changes.” He kissed her forehead then turned to Caitrin. “We need to keep a close eye on the mercenaries from now on. If they're here for Layla, their time's up and they'll be acting soon. They won't want her going into battle.”
 

“I agree,” Caitrin replied, glancing toward the suspicious group. “We need to start separating our fighters by skill. Then we'll put them into formation. We don't want any last minute confusion giving Agro the edge.”

Quin nodded his approval. Then he and Layla followed his parents and her grandparents around the glacier, picking out the strongest attackers, the most reliable defenders, and any others who possessed unusual skill. They divided them as they went, placing them into separate ranks so they could organize their lines and clarify what everyone's responsibilities would be.

As they walked among the masses, Quin tossed back shot after shot of jealousy. Layla was out of her cloak and out of his arms, providing everyone with a heavenly view. He forced himself to accept the gazes constantly flipping toward her. He couldn't blame them for staring, so he endured the bitter medicine as well as the tension that overtook him when particularly obscene expressions flitted across gawking faces.

By the time they were ready to begin placing soldiers into their positions, the entire area was shadowed, and the moon had appeared overhead, its edges blurred by a twilight sky. Due to the missing sun and the wind that had found its way into the basin, the temperature had dropped, and many magicians were huddled around floating fires, keeping themselves warm without constantly making it magically so.

Quin gave Layla another burst of heat, keeping her close as they made their way through a knot of magicians sitting on magical chairs, and when he pulled her hand from his lips, his gaze landed on a wizard sitting two feet away. He was staring at Layla like a starving convict faced with a prime piece of beef, and his fingers twitched as his vulgar gaze took in her body. Quin’s attention stayed fixed on the wizard's hands as they walked by, and it wasn't until they’d moved past that the guy made a foolish mistake.

With raised eyebrows and lewdly curved lips, he reached for her ass.

The insolent fingers made it halfway to their goal before Quin had them in his grip, and he squeezed with less force than he wanted to as he bent them toward the man's tattooed chest, nearly snapping his thick wrist.

“If you want to keep that hand,” Quin growled, “you'll keep it to yourself.”

Spit gathered at the corners of the wizard's mouth as he hissed through clenched teeth, and his aura expanded as he glanced to his left and right. Quin's eyes followed, finding two wizards flanking his captive, and they looked pissed. Shit.

Quin blindly reached around Layla's waist, and as he swept her behind him, the two meddlers started to stand, intent on sticking up for their friend. Quin’s mind flashed through possible solutions, but the wizards didn’t get a chance to cause trouble. Before they could even straighten, Layla hovered up Quin’s back and stretched her arms over his shoulders, shooting two pencil-thin streams of fire at the interfering wizards. The burning currents came within half an inch of their right eyeballs before halting, and the wizards froze, fearfully staring at the tiny, red-hot flames scorching the moisture from their twitching eyelids.
 

Quin and the man in his grip froze as well, worried even the slightest jolt would force Layla’s fire to find its marks, and Quin didn't even breathe as he assessed the situation, severely uncomfortable with the position she'd put herself in.

But she was steady as a rock as she looked down her burning beams to their targets, and her voice stayed even as she spoke. “I suggest you sit back down, gentlemen, and let your friend deal with his own consequences.”

The two men swallowed, leaning their heads away as they slowly lowered their butts to their chairs, and Layla's fire followed, staying within an inch of their eyeballs with perfect precision. The burning streams of magic looked like laser beams rather than flames, and they didn't shift, flare or waver as she steered them through the air.

Quin pulled in a careful breath, finding the eyes of the man who started the confrontation with his itchy fingers. “If you try to touch her again, I'll rip off your hand and turn it to ash. Do you understand?”

“I got it, man,” the wizard grunted, and Quin released him, but he didn't straighten. Layla was still within a few centimeters of burning out a couple of eyes.

“Let them go, love,” Quin instructed.

She obeyed, letting the cold wind separate the beams of fire into wisps of smoke, and Quin kept his eyes on the three bitter magicians as he backed away.

Layla's grandparents moved in, blocking his view as they formed a protective circle around them. Then Kemble and Cordelia parted the crowd of dumbfounded bystanders so their family could safely emerge.

Quin pulled Layla from his back to his chest, worried the incident might have upset her, but she looked fine. “I'd say they just learned a valuable lesson,” he noted.

She shrugged. “Some people never learn.”
 

“True, but I doubt they mess with you again. That was amazing. I've never seen anything like it.”

“Neither has anyone else,” Caitrin interjected, nodding toward the army.
 

Quin and Layla glanced around, finding everyone staring at them as they gossiped. Layla blushed and turned away, and Quin kissed her shoulder, filling her with heat while looking at Caitrin. “They're going to figure us out soon anyway. We're about to perform unheard of magic, and we need to release our auras to do it. It uses too much energy to keep them concealed.” He lowered his voice. “Our bonded lights will stay hidden until we're ready for Agro to see them.”

Caitrin nodded. Then he looked to the inky blue sky, which had lost the sun's kiss altogether and was sprinkled with bright stars and a clear moon. It wouldn't remain that way for long. An ominous line of gray clouds rolled in from the southwest, threatening rain and decreased visibility.

“Well,” Caitrin said, looking at Serafin and Kemble, “let's start lining them up.”

They flew to the southern side of the glacier, which was bordered by a massive crag stretching at least three-hundred feet across and fifty feet straight up. Positioning the army at the base of the cliff would prevent them from being surrounded, which was the worst thing to be when deadly magic was flying.

Everyone who'd volunteered from the Cormac/Adair and Owen/Sullivan covens, along with nearly everyone from Layla and Quin's coven, lined up in front of the protuberant stone, taking the safest positions in the planned battle formation. This was the one stipulation Quin and Layla wouldn't budge on. If their friends and family were going to fight, they’d be in the best position to survive. Only his parents and her grandparents would join them on the front line.

Caitrin turned to the watching volunteers and called for the magicians with the least amount of experience to line up to the right and left of his loved ones. Then he summoned those who possessed powerful defensive spells and instructed them to form a row five feet in front of the first. More witches and wizards who possessed average skill lined up next to them before spilling into a third row. And the fourth and final row, the one furthest from the stone backdrop, consisted of their most powerful and practiced magicians, including ten bonded children, five bonded couples, four sets of twins, and one set of triplets.

The only magicians left to place were the mercenaries, who insisted on staying together, so Caitrin instructed them to fall into formation at the east end of the army. They easily agreed and flocked to their positions.

The entire process had gone smoothly, and those who orchestrated it were surprised and relieved their army was being so patient and compliant as they stood in uniform rows, waiting for their next instructions.

Quin breathed heat into Layla with a kiss before lowering her feet to the ice. Then Caitrin moved to her side, magically magnifying his voice while speaking to the crowd. “When the Unforgivables arrive, each of you will be poised to attack on command, but you won't be casting your own spells.”

A rumble of confusion rose up from the soldiers, and Caitrin raised his hands for silence. “I know you're confused, but we'll make it perfectly clear for you. Layla and Quin can perform magic that will be extremely beneficial to our cause, and if you'll be patient and open-minded while Layla demonstrates it for us, you'll see just how beneficial it will be.” He paused, searching the front row of soldiers. Then he pointed to one of the bonded children. “You, sir. Your name’s Doyle, right?”

“Yes,” the man answered.

“What's your element?” Caitrin asked.

“Fire.”

“Perfect. Will you volunteer for us?”

“Sure,” Doyle agreed, stepping out of formation. Then he walked forward as Caitrin spoke to the crowd.

“Doyle’s a bonded child, a fire child.” He looked at his subject. “Will you give us an example of your largest fireball?”

Doyle nodded then walked several feet away and stretched his hand in the air. His fireball was impressive, about twenty feet in diameter and perfectly round, and the crowd mumbled its approval as Doyle confidently returned to Caitrin.

Caitrin offered him a smile then addressed the army. “I'm sure everyone agrees Doyle's fire magic is some of the best around. But now we’d like to show you what Layla and Quin can do with fire, because their spells are beyond impressive, and they can put them into other people without any adverse effects.”

The glacier hummed with doubt, and Caitrin had to call for everyone's attention. “Please be patient and give us a chance to show you what we're talking about. We're limited on time.”
 

The crowd obeyed, and Caitrin looked at Doyle, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “Layla's going to summon her fire magic into your body, Doyle. Then, when I tell you to, you'll cast it off as if it's your own.”

“I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that,” Doyle replied. “How is she supposed to do that without burning me?”

Layla stepped forward and gave him a reassuring smile. “I promise I won't burn you. I've done it several times, and I've never burned anyone.”

Quin stifled a laugh as he watched a dumbfounded expression slide over Doyle’s face, and he wondered if Layla noticed the effect her smile and voice had on the stranger. If she did, she didn’t show it.

Doyle nodded his approval, and Layla took his right hand, raising it up so everyone could watch as she touched her fingertips to his. When her comfortable heat flooded his insides, his trance broke, and he looked from her face to his hand. “It's not possible.”

“We're proving it is,” Caitrin disagreed. Then he took several steps away to avoid getting charred by Layla's magic. The others around Doyle followed suit, and Caitrin looked at the army. “You just saw Doyle's strongest fireball. Now you're going to see him casting Layla's fireball, and I assure you it's hers, not his. Will you tell them what you're experiencing, Doyle?”

Doyle swallowed his amazement. Then he spoke to the crowd while staring at his hand. “Warmth filled the upper-half of my body when she touched my fingers. It's similar to the feeling I get when I summon my own fire, but more intense and… foreign. It's definitely hers, not mine.”

“But it doesn't hurt, correct?” Caitrin clarified.

“No,” Doyle confirmed, “it doesn't hurt at all. It feels... empowering and energizing and... and... amazing.”
 

“Thank you,” Caitrin returned, ignoring the crowd's murmurs. “Now expel the fire as if it were your own.”

Doyle obeyed, releasing Layla's fireball, which was twice as bright and twice as big as his. The result had him stumbling back, and the observers loudly gasped as the burst of flames illuminated their faces. Quin ignored the magic and watched the mercenaries' reactions to it. A spark of excitement flashed in their eyes as they shifted, but many in the army had the same response.

Caitrin waited for the crowd to quiet down then spoke above the whispers. “As you can see, Layla's fire magic surpasses Doyle's, and the same is true for Quin's, so they'll be filling each of you with it before the Unforgivables arrive, and it will be their spells that will lead the initial attack. Do not add your own fire to theirs. They will be filling you with as much as your body can handle. If you add to it, you’ll burn yourselves. Wait until their magic has cleared your body before casting your own spells.” He paused and looked at Doyle. “You can return to your place now, Doyle. Thank you.”

Doyle looked away from Layla and shook his head clear. Then he made his way back to the line of shocked magicians.

Caitrin turned to Quin and lowered his voice. “If you're going to release your auras, you should do it now. Get the shock over with so we can move on.”

Quin thought for a moment then looked at Layla. “Do you have a preference?”

“Not really,” she answered. “They already know we're not average, so if you feel more confident in your magic when you're not concealing your aura, we should release them now. If you accidently burn one of them, they won’t let us follow through with the plan.”