as she staggered and swayed, then someone touched her and the pain lessened.
For a dazed instant, the voice and strong hands that pressed into her shoulders were Tier's. Then, as the effects of the priest's attack faded, she realized it was Hennea behind her, offering her support and power.
She needed a shield like the one Volis had set to encase them when they had entered the room, but she didn't have time to throw a shield around everyone. Instead, she created a shield and set it around Volis. For a moment the whole area around Volis lit up, but then the shield fell apart, a victim of its hasty construction.
He laughed. "Try this," he said and sketched a sigil in the air.
She blocked most of it, but the straining of her magic past her reserves almost blinded her with pain, and the remnants of his sorcery sent both Seraph and Hennea tumbling to the ground.
She wouldn't be able to hold out against a second such blast.
"Hennea," she whispered. "When I tell you, jump away, then get the others out of here." If she could distract Volis long enough, maybe her children could escape.
"No," said Hennea.
A breeze blew a stray lock of hair into Seraph's eyes.
Wrath lighting his face, Volis drew back his hand in the manner of a man throwing a rock. Hennea took control of the remnants of Seraph's shields and refined them as Volis's hand released whatever it was he'd formed and the spell bounced off harmlessly.
Wind cooled the sweat on Seraph's forehead - she had just enough time to realize that there shouldn't be a wind when a sudden gust of it knocked her to her knees.
The wind picked up even more speed, turning Seraph's hair into a vicious whip that stung her eyes and cheeks as her left knee made painful contact with the floor. The table Volis had been working on skidded across the floor, hit the wall, then flung itself at the priest's head.
Temporarily occupied defending himself from his furnishings, Volis quit concentrating on Seraph; but any magic would draw his attention.
Seraph drew her knife and staggered to her feet, bracing herself against the wind.
"Hennea," she said, her voice low. "Is there a cure for the shadowing that you know and I do not?"
Seraph thought for a moment that Hennea had fallen too far away to hear her, but then Hennea said, "No. There is no cure but death."
Seraph crouched and used the motion of the wind and a feathering of magic to creep up behind Volis. When she was close enough she rushed forward, and stepped on the back of his knee, collapsing the joint so the wizard staggered backward, off balance. She threw her left arm around his chin to hold him steady and jerked her knife into his neck as Tier had once taught her. The sharp knife cut through Volis's throat, severing skin and artery.
Seraph stumbled back, fighting the wind for her balance. Victory came so quickly, brought to her by the sharp blade of her knife. Her first kill. She wondered if she'd used magic to kill him, if it would seem more real to her.
The young man's body fought for a while, but pain blocked his own magic and the extremity of his emotions kept Raven magic from coming to his aid - rings or no. Seraph watched because it seemed an act of cowardice to turn away from a death she had summoned.
When he was dead, Seraph turned away to survey the room. Lehr, bless him, had remembered what she told him. He had Bandor pinned face against the wall in some sort of wrestling hold. Hennea had gotten to her hands and knees and crawled against the wind toward Volis's body. Jes, looking exhausted, sat on the floor near -
Ah, Seraph thought ruefully, that's where the wind came from.
Rinnie's hair spread out in pale flames as she stood motionless, arms spread with palms out like some ancient statue, her skirts absolutely still though the wind still tore furiously through the room. Jes must have cut her loose because there were no ropes on her, though lines on either side of her mouth showed where they had been. Her eyes glowed with an eerie gold light that obscured her pupils.
Words of warning, long forgotten, came back to Seraph. To be a weather witch was always to long for the energies that coursed and strew themselves in tempestuous weather, always to be in danger of being so caught