With that, she stood and joined a cluster of other witches. Rather than dwelling on the situation I'd gotten myself into, I stood, careful to keep a good hold of the fox, and headed down the hallway. The small lights cast deep shadows in the corners and along the edges of the space. The shadow walkers must have made great use of those. The hallway was much like the other, clean and modern.

  After what felt like a hundred feet or so, the hallway split. On the right was a large room with clusters of people laughing and talking. The smell of food came from somewhere nearby. I didn't think I trusted anything the witches might have made and turned down the narrow hallway, instead. It would be easy to get lost down the maze of spaces and halls. A series of doors sat on the left, half of which were wide open. The familiar sound of enthusiastic sex filled the air.

  As I walked by, I saw a succubus feeding from a pair of ferals. She threw her head back and let out a shout of great pleasure as the two young men wilted and lost the last of their life essence. Incubi and succubi didn't need to kill those they fed on, but there were rumours that doing so gave them an intense high unlike anything else. Of course, by law they weren't supposed to feed on anyone without full consent, and they certainly weren't meant to kill. I bet that the ferals had been told they'd have a bit of fun and nothing more.

  The succubus leered at me.

  "Want a ride, honey?" she said, patting the empty space on the bed between the bodies of her latest conquests.

  "Not interested," I said as I carried on down the hallway.

  After a few twists and turns, I came into a small, dark room with old battered chairs scattered around about. A number of familiars lounged over the chairs. All of them turned to face me as I entered. I immediately turned and planned to walk away and continue looking away. The familiars were bound to the witches, after all.

  A young familiar with fox-red hair much like Vyx's jogged up to me and tugged on the elbow of my jacket.

  "Don't go..." he said.

  I gave him a polite smile. "I've already agreed to do the spell for your mistresses."

  He frowned, causing deep creases on his young face. Like the other familiars, he was pale and gaunt. He tugged on the elbow of my jacket again, encouraging me to return to the room where the other familiars were watching the exchange.

  "We need to talk to you," he insisted.

  I gave him a nod of acknowledgement and gripped the fox tighter as I pushed Kyra back into her tattoo, just in case. The witches could be using them to try and steal away the fox or something else of high value. The familiar worried his bottom lip and turned his large amber eyes on me.

  "You can free us," he said softly.

  I looked down and away.

  "No, I can't. I'm sorry. Maybe if you can find Fein, he can help you."

  The familiar's brows pinched together.

  "With the spell, you can free us."

  "You want me to break the bond with your witches?" I asked.

  "Yes."

  "If I do that, then I will lose their help. I won't get my loved ones back..."

  He glanced at the other familiars in the room. A tall raven familiar strolled over to us.

  "He's asking if you'll end our miserable lives when you do the spell. Tell the witches it went wrong. You did your best."

  My jaw fell open. I couldn't. The fox familiar looked at me pleadingly.

  "Please. We can't end our own lives, the witches stop that. You can free us."

  "There are four of us, out of ten familiars they want you to work your spell on. That's few enough that you'll get your deal. Please," the raven said.

  I swallowed down my emotions and tried to think about it logically. She knew the witches, so surely she understood what they would and wouldn't allow from this trade. I didn't think it would be too difficult to work the ink magic so that the familiars were overwhelmed and the ink took their lives. Could I really deal with having yet more blood on my hands?

  I looked around the room. I was met with large dull eyes silently begging me. I squeezed my eyes closed and took a deep breath. It was the right thing to do. They were clearly suffering. Gods be with me, I hoped I was doing the right thing.

  25

  I'd left the room with the familiars in it and found myself a nice quiet corner to sit in with the fox in my arms. I rubbed the fox's soft ears and focused on the connection it had to Keirn. Would he forgive me for everything I was doing to get him back? What would I do if he didn't? I calmed myself. Going down that path wasn't constructive. I needed to focus entirely on the steps that would get him back. The fox licked my hand and made itself more comfortable in my arms. It seemed content enough. Hopefully, that meant Keirn wasn't suffering horrendously. The best-case scenario was he was bored in a cell somewhere.

  One of the shadow walkers came and found me. I looked up into her face and waited.

  “Petra is ready for you,” she said.

  I stood up, careful to keep the fox steady and secure in my arms as I did so.

  “Why are you working with her?” I asked.

  The shadow walker shrugged. “She offers us security.”

  “From?”

  The shadow walker narrowed her eyes at me. She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “From people like your precious elf. From people like the cult you helped shut down. From the Ceremonials.”

  “Fein helps people like you…” It felt so bizarre defending the damn elf.

  She snorted.

  “He helps us in a very specific way. Petra is going to help us spread our wings and have the freedom we deserve. We’re tired of being shunned and pushed aside.”

  I didn’t know much about the shadow walker position in society, so I let it all slide. It sounded like Petra was making a lot of big promises, though. How many people would she crush in her rise to power?

  “Come on, Petra’s waiting. She’ll hold onto your fox for you while you do the spell.”

  “Why did she need me to do the spell for her? She never did explain that. And no, no one but me is touching my fox.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Bonds aren’t hedgewitch territory, they’re life magic and tattoo magic. A child knows that.”

  I followed her down the hallway back to the main room I’d spoken to Petra in. The feeling of being watched followed my every step. Faces looked at me from corners, shadows, and doorways as though I were a wanted man going to my death. My hand reflexively went to where my stiletto would normally have been. Of course, it wasn’t there. The fox pinned its ears back and snarled at anyone who dared get within arm’s reach. It’d need to remain close and defend itself while I was doing the spell, as I’d be lost within the ink magic.

  Fuck, what had I gotten myself into? I was doing a spell that would kill a number of familiars and make the lives of the survivors worse, and I’d be open to attack from the witches and everyone else while working the magic. Gritting my teeth, I called on the ink network and pushed it to help me. Darkness licked around the edges of my vision before it slowly turned pale pink in agreement. It was better not to think about the payment it would demand for that.

  The room was packed with witches, familiars, and shadow walkers as I walked in. I held my head high and looked for any potential threats. The familiars all ducked their heads and looked away. The witches, however, met my eye and smiled. They were all young and pretty, thanks to their familiars. Petra handed me a sheaf of pure white paper and a number of bottles of pitch-black ink. I tucked the fox under one arm to take the supplies and looked around for where I was supposed to do this. The ink network itched in my fingertips to take control of the ink and kill everyone in the room.

  "No. We need them to get us Keirn back, and we don't know how to get out of here without them," I told it.

  It flickered and receded some. Of course, I could see its logic, but I needed to think of the long game.

  Petra nodded towards a comfortable red chair with a long table set in front of it.

  "I'm sure you'll find that suitable. I'll take the fox off your hands," she said as she reached out to take the fox.

  The fox bit her finger and almost succeeded in biting through the bone. Petra bared her teeth at the fox and growled some curses I didn't quite catch.

  "The fox stays with me," I said.

  It looked up at me with a proud grin, the witch's blood marking its muzzle making me smile. I settled myself in the chair and tried to ignore the press of gazes around me. All eyes were on me. There were many ways this situation could go wrong. I needed to have some faith in myself, the ink network, and the fox to get me out of it in one piece.

  I placed the paper and ink down on the table, and the fox made itself comfortable in my lap. I leaned forward, keeping the fox close to me. I didn't want anyone trying to snatch him while I was working. The ink was good quality as I'd demanded. It was true pitch black, and they'd been generous in how much they'd given me. There was easily enough there to kill everyone in the room, as the network whispered and reminded me.

  "Focus," I told it.

  It huffed and slipped into my fingertips as I picked up one of the pens. I wouldn't be using my blood for this. I didn't want any more ties to it than was absolutely necessary. Taking a calming breath, I formed the symbols and weavings I'd need in my mind. As I was pulling together the outer threads to force the bonds open and deeper, I realised I could hide a time limit on there. Surely, a week would be plenty long enough to get Keirn and Vyx back; after that, the bonds would revert to their normal status. It wouldn't remove the blood from my hands, but surely it would help at least a little bit.

  26

  I closed my eyes and allowed the ink network to flood into my hands. The basic design of what I needed was fixed in my mind. Traditionally, I'd need to place the ink on the familiars' skin to set the spell in place, but I didn't want them to drop dead the moment I was finished. I hoped the network would provide a loophole that meant I could weave the ink without having to place the design on their skin.

  The network pressed the image of ink flowing from the bottle onto the familiars as a group; that way, when some of them died, it wouldn't be quite as obvious. It was going to take a lot of energy, and I was beginning to feel the fact I hadn't eaten in a good while. I'd be vulnerable both during the working of the spell and afterwards. I was going to need a miracle to pull this off.

  My hands moved over the paper in strong sweeping motions as I allowed the network to run into the ink and form the designs on the crisp white paper. Slowly, the magic built within me and on the paper. It felt like a gentle pressure that wrapped around my hands and tugged on the crown of my head. As the design came together, it looked like a complicated mass of smaller sigils, which was a good way of viewing it. The battery was at the heart. That was where the ink magic was pooling, ready to run through the rest of the spell. Spreading out from there were lines and threads that would act as scaffolding to force the bond to remain open at a much deeper level than usual. Then there were the little stamps that acted as a shut-off point seven days from the moment I inked them on the paper. Finally, the very outer edge was the dam that would slide into place once the timestamps went off. From the outside, it looked like a series of swirls and harsh straight lines. I hoped that no one present knew anything about sigil designs.

  Once the design was complete on paper, I picked up the second bottle of ink and smiled as I felt the power rippling through my hands. The ink called to me, the potential that it held intoxicating. I closed my eyes, and the ink network rode me for the briefest moments. The world was brighter, I was stronger… I could be so much more. I pushed it down and focused on the familiars that had been pushed closer to me.

  A quick motion of my hand pulled the ink out of the bottle and sent it in narrow ribbons towards the familiars. Each familiar watched the ribbon approach them, some showed fear and visibly paled, others lifted their chins and leaned forward, eager to have it press against their skin. The ink settled onto their throats above the collars that marked them as belonging to whichever witch had claimed them.

  Their life essence formed in my mind, bright pulsing magic that both pulled me closer and pushed me away. I didn't dare touch it, but some part of me wanted to dip my fingers into it and feel the pure magic. The very essence. I wasn't them. I was better than the witches.

  The ink magic threaded its way around the essence of the familiars. Those that had begged to be set free had a dullness to their essence, a grey clay-like texture that moved through the bright light of the rest of their essence. The ink magic wasted no time in diving into the clay and shattering it. They died immediately. Their bright colourful essence went out, and I was aware of the sound of their bodies dropping to the cold stone floor. I focused on the surviving familiars and made quick work of tying knots around their ink magic, securing the spell in place.

  It was done.

  I slumped back into the chair and held the fox tight to me as the ink network left and the exhaustion hit me. I could barely keep my eyes open, my hands were shaking, and everything felt fuzzy. How long had it been since I'd eaten? My body needed fuel to do such a large and complicated working. Fuck, there could be side-effects associated with such a working, and there was a good chance that I owed the ink network something for doing it. Someone reached in and tried to take the fox from me; I fought to open my eyes, heard the fox snarl, and someone shouted in pain.

  "Fuck off, the fox is mine. I held up my end of the bargain," I growled as I forced my eyes open.

  The whole room swam, but I could see Petra and the dead familiars.

  "Four of them didn't survive," she said.

  "Not my problem. I did the spell. Now you help me get my loved ones back from the Ceremonials."

  Petra sniffed. "I don't think you did uphold your end of the bargain."

  "The familiars have a deeper bond. I never said anything about keeping them all alive."

  "I suggest you back away," a familiar voice growled.

  Whispers went around the group, and I was suddenly surrounded by open space.

  "Dacian, what happened?" Rex asked as he crouched down next to me.

  I didn't think I'd ever been quite so happy to see an assassin in my life.

  "I did a spell, a very big spell, and I haven't eaten in a long time. I'm so glad to see you," I said as the room began to spin even more violently.

  "Food was made available to him," Petra said.

  "And was that food entirely safe to eat?" Fein demanded.

  Petra didn't answer. Someone pressed something warm into my hand.

  "We came prepared; eat that, Dacian," Shadow said.

  I didn't open my eyes. I lifted my hand and bit into whatever he'd handed me.

  The magic hit me hard. Whatever it was tasted like pure sugar and energy. It has a slightly cherry aftertaste, but the spinning dissipated to be replaced with a feeling of euphoria. I was on top of the world and could conquer anything. A strong hand pressed against my shoulder.

  "Breathe, Dacian, let it do its work," Rex said.

  "What the fuck did you give me?"

  "An alchemical cake. They have some fancy name for it, but we call it airship fuel," Shadow said.

  I could hear the smile in his voice. I opened my eyes to see Fein standing glaring at Petra. The elf wore a long black coat that succeeded in making him look even more intimidating than usual. The witch was doing her best to stand strong, but I could see the fear in her face.

  "You stole my tattoo magician," Fein bit out.

  "I didn't steal him," Petra said, lifting her chin.

  Fein didn't say anything. The darkening of his expression said everything.

  "I had a better offer for him, and it was better that I made said offer in the privacy of my own home," Petra said.

  Fein ran his thumb along the side of Petra's throat.

  "Cross me again and you'll beg for death," Fein said softly.

  Petra swallowed hard and looked away.

  "Now. You made a deal with Dacian, I assume to help him retrieve his elf and feral. You are going to fulfil that deal. Understood?" Fein said.

  Petra made a noise of agreement and Fein turned to look at me. His face was filled with concern, and that startled me.

  "Are you ok, Dacian?" His voice carried a warmth that I hadn't expected.

  "I think so? This cake is hitting me pretty hard, but I'll survive," I said.

  "Now, tell me everything that has happened down here," Fein said as he perched on the edge of the table.

  Where did I start?

  27

  The witches and co. left the room and gave us space while I told Fein everything that had happened, from the kidnapping to the familiars and finally the deal. His face remained blank while I talked, which I hoped was a good thing.

  "You did the right thing, Dacian. I do all I can to help the familiars, but there is a balance to be struck. I cannot bend the nature of the witches."

  I smiled and stretched my legs. Everything was feeling odd since I'd eaten the magic cake. My injuries had healed, my head had cleared, and I felt bouncier, almost like I was vibrating.

  "We will be remaining with you for the duration of your stay here," Fein said.

  "How did you find me? Where the fuck are we?" I said as I held out my arms, gesturing to the space around us.

  "Rex was charged with protecting you, and that meant he could track you. We came looking for you the moment Luka and Shadow saw the mess in the apartment," Fein said.

  "We're under the Smichov section of the city," Shadow said.

  I wrinkled my nose. That made sense. Smichov was the darker, more dangerous part of the city, the type of area you didn't go after dark unless you could defend yourself. It seemed very fitting that a group such as the one who had taken me would live under there.

  "We will speak to Petra once you have recovered from everything and formulate a plan to get Keirn and Vyx back. There are a number of ferals who will be aiding us in this," Fein said.