Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) - Melissa F. Olson Page 0,101

cattle.

The leaders of the crowds descending on me had reached the tiles now, and were creeping closer. Before they completely surrounded me, blotting out the stars, I caught one brief glimpse of Lysander. If Maven glowed in my mindset like the sun, Lysander was a supernova of swirling, oily black. The figure threw back his head and laughed as the remnants fell upon me like I was the last spark of warmth in an eternal winter.

Chapter 40

A tattered woman with a black eye thrust a revolver in my face and squeezed the trigger. I fell out of a boat and my limbs wouldn’t move right, didn’t know how to swim. I lay wasting away in a bed with white sheets, coughing blood into the pillowcase because I was too weak to lift my head. An enormous steer knocked me down, and I could feel its hooves begin to slice into my back.

Death after death pounded into me as the remnants attacked. Although none of my physical wounds were fatal, I felt like I was finally drifting toward my own death. I curled into myself, shivering as each ghost took a bite from my aura, at everything that made me me. I was so cold. I was so lost. The barrage of ghosts continued, and I drifted further from myself. I’m sorry, Sam, I thought. I don’t know how to fight.

Yes you do, cried a voice in my head, but it wasn’t Sam’s voice, not unless Sam had developed a Russian accent after death. This confused me enough to bring me back to myself for a moment. The voice spoke again, You have everything you need, baby girl. Do not let this perversion take you, too.

Valerya.

I couldn’t begin to process the fact that my dead birth mother had just communicated with me telepathically. I just couldn’t.

The deaths were still coming, but I tried to focus my thoughts, just for a second. She said I had what I needed, but what did I have? The shotgun and the revolver were around here somewhere, but they were useless against remnants. I still had the knife in its sheath. And—

I lifted my uninjured hand and clutched the cord around my neck. The necklace had fallen out of my shirt and was lying on the ground inches from my skin. I groped along the cord until I could wrap my hand around the obsidian.

Nothing happened.

It was an effort not to panic, not to allow my thoughts to fizzle out and images of death to claim me. I tried to remember how to even think about magic. What was the first thing Simon had taught me?

Extend your senses.

I blocked out everything that was coming at me and focused on the skin of my hand, the way the smooth stone felt as it warmed to my touch. I concentrated on the idea of vibrations, the beautiful chunk of mahogany obsidian tuning to my body. And then I listened for the stone, the same way I’d listen to my own body.

The images of death vanished.

I still hurt, and I still felt cold, but now that the psychic attack had ended I could at least think again. The relief was immediate, like jumping into a cool pond on a steamy day. But the remnants continued to mill around me, passing straight through me, making it impossible for me to see beyond them.

On the other hand, I realized, the remnants would also make it impossible for Lysander to see me from his perch at the top of the amphitheater. He was letting the ghosts take all the fight out of me so he could swoop in, pick me up, and ferry me off to concubine camp. But now I had bought myself a few seconds before he’d realize I was no longer suffering.

Think, Lex, think. I listened for Valerya or Sam, but I heard nothing, and I realized that just as the obsidian was protecting me from psychic attack, it was probably keeping me from psychic help.

You have everything you need. That implied more than one thing, didn’t it?

Valerya’s stone. I lifted my hand with the broken wrist and gingerly touched the large chunk of bloodstone, wrapping my skin around it. I concentrated on it just as I had with the obsidian.

I suddenly felt . . . better. Grounded. Clear. Strong.

And I knew what to do.

I needed my hands free, so I used my good hand to unceremoniously stuff both of the stones into my sports bra, just over my