Chapter Twenty-two

Volencia bit her lip then went into action, calling on her magic. She could only pray it didn’t back fire. She grabbed the snake and started to pull. “No, stop!” Damion growled, but she didn’t. She wasn’t going to lose her father when she was so close to having him back. She let the light inside her, which was screaming to get out, go. Damion let her father’s head go and focused on the black curse now wrapping around his arm. As her hands covered her father, his shaking eased and he took his first breath past the evil. “He’s breathing again. Keep going.”

“The ball, is it cracking more?”

“No, I’m fixing it.” Volencia’s brow drew down as she focused. She had to keep it in check, she didn’t want to overwhelm either of them. The beastly curse was nearly as long as Damion’s arms spread wide. When it finally broke free, Damion nearly fell back, her father slumping in his chair. Volencia grabbed for the sword so it wouldn’t fall, afraid the strain on the crystal would harm it. Her fingers missed, but her magic eased it to the carpet for her.

She gently let her father’s head rock to the side, checking to make sure he seemed okay. At the least, he was breathing. Damion, however, went back, falling through the glass door to the balcony. Volencia’s body kicked into gear again going to him as he wrestled the curse, despite the broken glass he was covered in.

“What can I do?” She asked, her hands open before her, afraid to call her magic again.

“I need one hand free to call the void!” Damion struggled, his skin no longer tan, but ranging from ash grey to coal black. “Ahh!” He cried as the thing slammed his chest, looking like it was trying to get into his body.

“Come on, I need you…” She whispered, pulling her own magic outward. “Damion needs us.” Her finger squeezed and her mind focused on stilling the curse. It slowed, Damion breathed hard, rolling until he was holding it beneath him. His right hand went to the marble balcony pushing the glass around and leaving blood streaks as he worked his magic.

“Volencia, I need you to decrease your magic. It’s too much.”

“I’ll lose control of the curse if I do.”

“Voids open—” his body was shaking, sweat was pouring from him.

Closing her eyes, she focused on cutting the magic off. Pulling it back into that secret room inside her where it’s been locked away. When she reopened her eyes, Damion was sitting up looking mush worse for the wear. His body lurched forward, and he vomited. Volencia’s arms wrapped around his shoulders just as his body gave way and he started to pitch forward. “Damion?” His eyes rolled back in his head, and his body slacked. Volencia had to fight to keep him up, he was just too heavy. His arms, hands, and clothes were stained with blood, though none of the scratches seemed too deep.

The door burst open, a white faced Gregron ran in, “What in Ephira is going on?”

“Gregron,” Volencia sighed with relief, “I can’t lift him…” She had Damion in her arms, holding him tight, trying to keep him from the shards of glass all around them.

“What the hell happened?” He stopped beside Venron, who was still out. Then slid the door open. Hunkering down beside them. “I could feel your magic from the training field.”

Volencia felt a tear rolling down her cheek. “We were trying to remove the curse from father. It’s gone now. At least a good portion of it. It was like a living thing, it attacked him once released. It’s gone now though.”

“It must have been a hell of a spell.” Gregron hooked Damion’s arm over his shoulder and heaved him up. Volencia grabbed his other arm to help. “Go put down a pillow for him and make sure there’s nothing on the sofa.”

She nodded, adding a pillow from one of the other seats. She tucked it under his head, as Gregron laid him down. The black was finally starting to fade from his skin. “You all look like you just waged a war in here. He looks the worst though. Let me go call the healers and have them assist.” His hand caught her chin, turneing her face, his rough thumb rubbing a spot on her cheek. “That your blood or his?”

“His. I didn’t get hurt.”

Gregron nodded and left to call in the healers. They had no issues with her father, but they couldn’t do anything with Damion. His magic was still ramped up and running through him, so any time they tried to use their magic on him, his skin blackened like it was being attacked, and made the healers nervous.

“It’s fine.” Volencia placed her hand on the distraught elf. “Once he’s rested for a while, we’ll call you back up to try again. I think he’ll just need a little time.”

They had said the same about the King. That he was healed, but they didn’t suggest waking him. After so much magic runs through one’s body, it wears them out, and trying to force them to wake with magic, only makes things worse in the end. So, they got his shirt off and checked his back. His chest was bruised, but there were few cuts that were able to make it through the fabric. An errand boy ran to get him a clean shirt.

After the healers left, Volencia called for something light to be brought up, then tucked herself next to Damion on the sofa. Gregron was sitting across from her, his arms crossed over his chest. “Why would you have done this without me here?”

“Damion wanted as few people here as possible. He was worried that if someone panicked, he could lose control of the magic and it would have made things worse. He wanted me here in case something happened, so I could help. To be honest, I worried that you weren’t here. But I think it was the right call. You would have tried to stop it at the wrong time… things could have gone very differently, but it worked. And that’s what’s important.” She frowned, standing to go to the fireplace. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. If it’s rescued your father, it will be worth it. In the future though, if you do something like this again, I expect to be told what’s happening, even if you don’t want me there with you. I deserve to know.” His green eyes were hard, but he followed her, “I’ll get it going for you.”

It took nearly the entire day for the king to come to. Gregron and Volencia were talking over dinner in the study when he rolled over with a groan. Gregron jumped up, eager to know how he was. He knelt before the king. “How are you feeling?” His fingers brushed the hair from Venron’s forehead, resting his hand on the King’s shoulder.

Venron groaned again, and Volencia had her hands pressed to her lips. He couldn’t even do that before. “By the Gods, I’m starving.” Tears sprung to Volencia’s eyes and Gregron gave a congradulatory hoot. Venron was clearly surprised by his own hoarse voice. “That boy is a walking miracle!”