Tarot Academy 4 - Sarah Piper Page 0,99
a dark mage. That was…
Fuck. That was a dark mage.
Of course it was him. If not in body, in spirit.
“I see you’re having some trouble accepting the reality of your situation,” he says, faux sympathy dripping from his tone. “Let it be a lesson about the consequences of breaking a sacred blood oath. An oath that still requires fulfillment, I’ll remind you. Her irresponsibility does not absolve you of that.”
I take a step toward him, still gripping the athame. “You’re stuck here in the dream realm, old man. Your power is limited. You’re basically impotent.”
Another soft chuckle, his eyes still sparkling. “Well, that’s not entirely true, is it?”
With a quickness I don’t see coming, he grabs my arm, thumb brushing the pentacle and serial number tattooed on my wrist.
“You’re dangerous, witch-girl,” he hisses, his voice dark and ancient, the words yanking me back in time to a storm on El Búho Grande, to the day when my friend Luke was possessed by a dark mage and tried to kill me.
The day my friend Luke died as a result, and I was framed for the magickal crime.
“It was you,” I gasp, the pieces falling into place. Luke hadn’t climbed the Grande that day—he simply appeared there, plucked out of his old life and dropped into the cave beneath the owl’s wing deep inside the rock face. He attacked me with magick, and in the end, his body was tortured and destroyed by mages, made to look as if I’d murdered him myself.
It was a cruel, violent act. One that landed me in prison, and ultimately, at the Academy.
“I needed a way to reach you,” the Magician continues. “The time had come to fulfill the oath.”
“You possessed and killed my friend. You sent me to prison.”
“Technically speaking, I didn’t possess him, but that’s neither here nor there.”
“You killed him!” I scream, my voice reverberating off the cave walls. But this crazy motherfucker is unfazed, offering no more than a shrug beneath his ratty feathered cape.
“At the time, it seemed the most prudent method. Granted, obtaining your cooperation has proven a bit more difficult than I anticipated, but I’m confident we’ll get there. You see, Starla…”
He’s rambling now, going on about the nature of magick and manifestation and my all-important role in his big plans to fuck the entire planet in the ass without lube, but my mind is still stuck on the part about Luke. About all the witches and mages who’ve been accused of crimes they didn’t commit—magickal crimes perpetuated by dark mages loyal to the madman who brought me into this world.
“People were poisoned,” I say, cutting him off. “Innocent witches and mages. They were burned alive, tortured, raped… Their own family members were convicted of the crimes.”
He smiles and taps his stomach, clearly pleased with himself. “Quite impressive when you list it out like that.”
“You were behind all of it,” I say, disgust turning my words into ash.
“I can’t take all the credit. I had lots of people willing to help. Not right away, of course. But eventually.”
“Those aren’t people. They’re dark mages, and they don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us.”
“I see.” He steps closer, crowding into my space, his sour breath making my eyes water. “Those dark mages? The ones you claim aren’t people, and don’t deserve to breathe? They were willing to die for the cause they believed in. Can you say the same of your Arcana brothers? Of yourself? All the people and things and causes you claim to value… How far are you willing to go to stand up for them, Starla Milan, Blood of the World, newborn witch who barely understands so much as one iota of the power coursing through her veins?”
I take a step back, sucking in a breath of cool air, clearing my head. I didn’t conjure myself here to listen to his propaganda. I came with an offer, and it’s time to put the metaphorical cards on the table.
“I’ll tell you exactly how far I’m willing to go.” I slice my palm again, dripping blood on his precious altar. “Those all-powerful Arcana objects you probably jerk off to every night? I’ve got three of them. And despite the fact that having them in your possession will make you infinitely more powerful than you already are, I’m willing to hand them over.”
His eyes narrow curiously, his energy pulsing with greed and desire. “Freely?”
“For a price, of course.” Holding my bloody fist over the altar,