A Darker Shade of Magic (Shades of Magic #1) - V.E Schwab Page 0,53

Suddenly it was everywhere, Blotting out his vision and forcing its way into his nose and mouth, down his throat, choking him, smothering him.

And then it was gone.

Kell coughed and gasped for breath, and looked down at himself, unhurt.

For an instant, he thought the magic had failed.

And then he tasted blood.

Kell brought his fingers toward his lips, but stopped when he saw that his entire palm was wet with red. His wrists and arms felt damp, too.

“What … ,” he started, but couldn’t finish. His mouth filled with copper and salt. He doubled over and retched before losing his balance and collapsing to his hands and knees in the street.

“Some people say magic lives in the mind, others the heart,” said Holland quietly, “but you and I both know it lives in the blood.”

Kell coughed again, and fresh red dotted the ground. It dripped from his nose and mouth. It poured from his palms and wrists. Kell’s head spun and his heart raced as he bled out onto the street. He wasn’t bleeding from a wound. He was just bleeding. The cobblestones beneath him were quickly turning slick. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t even get to his feet. The only person who could break the spell was staring down at him with a resignation that bordered on disinterest.

“Holland … listen to me,” pleaded Kell. “You can …” he fought to focus. “The stone … it can make …”

“Save your breath.”

Kell swallowed and forced the words out. “You can use the stone … to break your seal.”

The White Antari raised a charcoal brow, and then shook his head. “This thing,” he said, tapping the silver circle at his shoulder, “is not what’s binding me.” He knelt before Kell, careful to avoid the spreading blood. “It’s only the iron.” He pulled aside his collar to reveal the mark scorched into the skin over his heart. “This is the brand.” The skin was silvery, the mark strangely fresh, and even though Kell couldn’t see Holland’s back, he knew the symbol went all the way through. A soul seal. A spell burned not only into one’s body, but into one’s life.

Unbreakable.

“It never fades,” said Holland, “but Athos still reapplies the mark now and then. When he thinks I’m wavering.” He looked down at the stone in his hand. “Or when he’s bored.” His fingers tightened around it, and Kell coughed up more blood.

Desperately, he reached for the coin pendants around his neck, but Holland got there first. He dug them out from under Kell’s collar and snapped the cords with a swift tug, tossing the tokens away down the alley. Kell’s heart sank as he heard the sound of them bouncing into the dark. His mind spun over the blood commands, but he couldn’t seem to hold the words in his head, let alone shape them. Every time one rose up, it fell apart, broken by the thing killing him from the inside. Every time he tried to make a word, more blood filled his mouth. He coughed and clutched at syllables, only to choke on them.

“As … An …” he stammered, but the magic forced blood up his throat, blocking the word.

Holland clucked his tongue. “My will against yours, Kell. You will never win.”

“Please,” Kell gasped, breath ragged. The dark stain beneath him was spreading too fast. “Don’t … do this.”

Holland gave him a pitying look. “You know I don’t have a choice.”

“Make one.” The metallic smell of blood filled Kell’s mouth and nose. His vision faltered again. One arm buckled beneath him.

“Are you afraid of dying?” asked Holland, as if genuinely curious. “Don’t worry. It’s really quite hard to kill Antari. But I can’t have—”

He was cut off by a glint of metal in the air and the ringing sound of it striking bone as it connected with his skull. Holland went down hard, the stone tumbling from his grip and skittering several feet into the dark. Kell managed to focus his eyes enough to see Lila standing there, clutching an iron bar with both hands.

“Am I late?”

Kell let out a small dazed laugh that quickly dissolved into wracking coughs. Fresh blood stained his lips. The spell hadn’t broken. The chains around his ankles began to tighten, and he gasped. Holland wasn’t attacking him, but the magic still was.

He tried desperately to tell Lila, but he couldn’t find the air. And thankfully, he didn’t need it. She was ahead of him. She snatched up the stone, swiped it across the bloody