Page 17 of The Endless One

“Agnes,” he murmured. “Can you please conjure water out of the stone?”

The older witch looked at him with frustration before huffing out of her nose. “I should have known you were watching me practice.”

“Don’t ruin the spell with your sass,” he grumbled.

Agnes did what he asked. He had been watching her when she snuck out of the shack at night and wandered down to the water. Her ancestor had been one of the most powerful witches he had ever seen in his life, so it was no surprise that her great-granddaughter was, too. But even Elric had been surprised to watch Agnes crush a stone in her fist and grind it so forcefully that water came out of it.

And so the spell continued. He asked each of the witches to place something in the mortar at that point. Water, a few more poisonous plants, a gemstone that was then crushed by another strong witch. More and more from each woman to create a spell that was both intricate and intertwining all of their magic together into a grand beauty.

Finally, he came to Elissa. She had opened her eyes long before he got to her, trembling as she watched each of the witches give seemingly far more than she could. But her part was more important than she likely thought.

“Elissa,” he said quietly. “Please call down the stars for us. But as you do so, I need you to imagine them as runes. Each one of them must be exactly the same as the other. All runes marking command and control. Do you understand me?”

“Stars are stars, Deathless One. I cannot change them,” she whispered, her eyes so large they looked like twin moons.

“They aren’t stars. Not for you.”

He watched her hands curl into fists, and then something miraculous happened. She trusted him. She didn’t argue; she didn’t fight against what he was asking her to do. Elissa just knew that he wouldn’t ask her to do something that she couldn’t, and she did it.

Light filled the room. Tendrils of glowing energy came through the stones over their head, dancing through the air in bright images of runes. Slash marks created the most important runes, and then she laid them all out on the altar. One by one. They glowed like shimmering diamonds on the stone, marking it for an even more impressive spell.

All the witches remained frozen as Elric leaned forward and took the mortar in his hands. This was the moment they had been waiting for. A spell that would show them where Jessamine was.

He turned to Sybil and handed her the mortar. Without making eye contact with any of the others, he climbed onto the altar and laid himself out like an offering.

“Are you ready?” Sybil asked. Her dark eyes were creased with worry, and a wrinkle had formed between them.

Elric wiggled his shoulder blades into a more comfortable position, and then nodded. “I am.”

She brought the mortar over his lips and hesitated. He knew that she needed to steady herself. Spells were rarely pretty things, and it was very likely that they were about to watch quite the show as his mortal body fought with the spell that would soon rock through him.

But as Sybil tilted the mortar and the first drop of liquid hit his tongue, he heard Elissa gasp.

“Wait!” The word filled the space with sorrow. “Won’t that hurt him?”

He didn’t have to reply.

Sybil lifted her head to look Elissa in the eye and said, “All magic comes with a price. Every spell you have cast is because you killed something to sacrifice it to him. Just because you don’t see a personal cost yet, that does not mean one was not paid for you. Right now, the Deathless One has chosen to pay this price for us. Now, all of you put your hands on the altar, and together, we will seek out our missing gravesinger. None of you lift your hands, no matter what happens.”

Already the belladonna had numbed his lips. There were more poisonous plants in this mixture as well, and he’d made it a little stronger than it needed to be. The numbing agent would help ease the pain, but there were bits of that mixture that would make him seize very quickly.

He hadn’t wanted to tell some of the softer souls in his coven what would happen. Frankly, he’d wanted to pretend it wasn’t going to happen himself.

“But…” Elissa soldiered on even as Sybil glared at her. “I don’t want him to be in pain.”

He lifted his hand and wrapped it around Sybil’s wrist. Veins stood out on the back of his hand as he tipped the mortar and let the poison trickle into his open mouth. It dripped down his chin, coiling down his throat and leaving a burning sensation in its wake. But then it wasn’t all that bad anymore. He couldn’t quite feel it moving down his throat, and even if he could, it didn’t matter.

At least, until the first seizure hit.

His body contorted around it, foam already building on his mouth as his body wheezed for air. He hated seizures. They were quite effective for the payment of spells like these, however. The amount of pain, disorientation, and the feeling of complete helplessness fed black magic spells.

Already he could see that the witches were getting somewhere. Their eyes all slammed shut, and he could see the orbs moving underneath their lids. They searched for her, each one of them trying to find her in a castle that was created to divert them. Some of the witches gasped in agony as they struck runes that were meant to throw them off. And that was all right. Their torment only funneled into the stone, which made the spell amplify.

The seizure shifted into raw pain. It was like someone was slamming a fist into his gut over and over again. Then knives. His skin split along his knuckles, hands, and arms. He was sliced to pieces from the altar as his blood seeped out onto it, paying a price for the spell that would find his beloved.

Elric bore it all in silence. He would never give up. Not for her. Not knowing that she would never give up on him either.

And when he was breathless, tortured beyond reason, he felt the spell slowly grow lax. His body eased, the pain drifting away as the poison faded.