Blood Prophecy: Kallen's Tale (6 page)

“Oh.” 

The Witch spirit finds her
voice once again.  “Are you saying that she can’t perform spells?  She is half
Witch.”

I see she is taking her
shock out on me with her snippy tone.  “No, I am saying that the outcome of a
spell that Xandra casts will be a hundred times greater than it was meant to
be.”

“And you couldn’t have said
something before she worked the spell and destroyed the living room?”  Her
snippiness is becoming anger.

I tilt my head and raise my
brows.  “Would you have believed me if you had not seen it with your own eyes?”

She wants to be mad at me,
but I have taken the oomph out of her argument.  I can see the disappointment
in her translucent stature.  After a moment, she finally admits, “No.”

The Angel begins to stir. 
Putting her hand to her concussed head, she attempts to pick herself up off the
floor, to no avail.  She must have injured her ankle.  She sits back down and
shakes her head in awe.  “So much power in one so young is dangerous,” she says
to the room.

I believe in the future she
will be a bit more willing to believe me.  “I did warn you,” I points out.

A tiny, self-deprecating
smile forms on her lips.  “Yes, you did.  But my pride wouldn’t listen.  I’m
lucky that it didn’t get me more than a twisted ankle and a headache.”

I shrug.  “If it had been a
truly dangerous spell, I would not have let you teach it to her.”

Xandra puts her hands on her
hips and glares up at me.  What did I do now?  “What do you mean, you wouldn’t
let her?  Just because you were the first one to teach me things doesn’t mean
that you have full rein over my magical education.”

My eye brows and my hairline
become one.  “And what basis from your vast magical experience will you use to
determine if a spell is safe or not?  It makes more sense for someone who is
versed in Witch magic, and has experienced your magic first hand, to determine
the ramifications of a spell spoken by you.”

I am not sure what message
she is trying to convey when she scrunches up her face, but she is beautiful
when she is annoyed.  “You know, my father is right over there.  I don’t need
another one.”

My voice becomes husky as my
lips curve up into a smile.  “Believe me, I have no desire to be your father.” 
The blood rushing to her cheeks tells me she has no problem understanding my
message.

Her father clears his voice,
bringing us back to our surroundings.  “Yes, well, now that you’ve established
that you only have one father, I’ll give my opinion.  I believe Kallen is
right.  He has the best idea of all of us what you are capable of, so he should
have final say in what spells you do.”  I try hard not to laugh when she
includes her father in her glare.  “But, before any of that is decided, we need
to figure out what we’re going to do about the door and window.  It gets
awfully cold in these mountains at night.” 

I can fix both.  I give
Xandra a pointed look, as I say, “Of course.  If Xandra will let down her wall,
I can reverse the damage she has done.”

The Angel looks doubtful. 
“You are able to perform reversal magic?”

I resent the disbelief in
her voice.  “Yes, I am.”

Xandra looks up at me in
confusion.  “Can all Fairies do that?” 

I shake my head and I cannot
miss the hunger in her eyes as she stares at me.  I wonder if I look that
enraptured when I look at her in unguarded moments.  Probably.  Maybe even
worse.  “No, it is quite difficult to perform reversal magic.  It requires a
lot of power and refined skill.  The only other Fairy I know who can do this is
my Grandmother.”

She purses her lips as she
digests that information.  A sudden change in her demeanor tells me an idea
just exploded inside her head.  “So, you could have reversed the avalanche and
the rock slide I caused?”

I chuckle and shake my
head.  “You created natural disasters on a grand scale.  There is no magic
strong enough to reverse that.  Now, as impressive as it is that you are
holding this wall in place for so long, without another magical mishap, I
cannot reverse the damage until you let it go.” 

She gives me a sour look,
but she begins to concentrate on letting the magic go.  An odd smile touches
her lips, causing several of us to raise a brow in her direction.  “Care to
share with the rest of us what is making you smile so?” I ask.

“No,” she says in a singsong
voice.  Then, she closes her eyes so she can focus on what she is supposed to
be doing.  At first, she is making a little headway.  Her magic is beginning to
sink back to the ground.  That does not last long. 

It does not take me long to
realize that she is losing control in a monumental way.  I call out her name,
but she does not hear me.  I even try shaking her, to no avail.  Damn it, she
is lost in the magic.

“Kallen, do something,” her
mother says to me.  Yes, because I have not already thought of that. 

Her magic is reaching a
crescendo, and the oxygen in the air is beginning to spark.  Actually, spark is
too mild of a word.  Little bursts of flames are appearing out of nowhere as
her magic sets the air on fire.  Pulling as much magic as I can, I throw it at
her.  Her only response is a small smile that I do not believe has anything to
do with what I am doing.  I wish that I could tell what is going through her
mind at the moment.

My magic is hitting a solid wall
but I keep pushing.  I will not back down, regardless of the line of fire where
our magic meets that is trying hard to burn the house down.  I can hear the
Angel saying a spell behind me.

“Element created from magic
untamed, burning, boiling, all in flame, with measured magic I fight in kind,
the soothing flow of water will bind.”  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a
pail of water appear in the woman’s hand and she begins to fight the flames,
her pail constantly refilling.

“Jim, you have to leave,” the
Witch spirit is telling her husband.  “It is not safe for you here!”

“I am not leaving you here,
Julian!  If I go, you go.”  The Cowan spirit is holding his ground.  He is
taking an ignorant stand, but I do admire his courage.

“Jim, I have magic to protect
me.  This fire is moving into our plain like a knife through butter.  I can
defend myself as Kallen attempts to help Xandra, but I cannot keep both of us
safe and the house as well.”

I hope that I never feel as
helpless as Xandra’s father looks at this moment.  He wants nothing more than
to protect his wife and daughter, yet he has no weapons for which to do so. 
Finally acknowledging that fact, he gives his wife a grim nod and disappears
through the wall.

Xandra is feeling my magic
now.  I push harder, using every last bit of magic I can pull, until I finally
feel her pushing back.  Now, I need to be conscious of my own safety.  An
inferno of fire is headed my way as Xandra’s magic betters mine.  It is coming
perilously close.  This may very well be my undoing.

Finally, I feel her magic
stutter, for lack of a better word.  She is trying to take control again.  The
fire is only inches from me now.  I feel the ends of the black hair falling
over my brow begin to singe.  I keep pushing, even as smoke begins to rise from
my unruly hair.

I fall to my knees when her
magic suddenly pulls back.  The fires are fizzling out, just as my strength
is.  Xandra’s magic is gentler, pushing lightly.  She is in control.  I can
stop pushing.  Slowly, we both push our magic back to the earth.  Without the
house exploding.  Or anyone dying.

Chapter 4

“You did it,” the Angel
says, dousing a spot on the curtains that has flamed again. 

Xandra drops to her knees in
front of me.  She looks so sorry, I cannot possibly be angry with her, though I
can tell she expects me to be.  Smiling as widely as I can at the moment, I
say, “Always interesting around you.”

A nervous giggle escapes her
lips.  Placing her hand on my cheek, she asks, “Did I hurt you?”

Other than draining me of
most of my strength, fortunately not.  I turn my face slightly so I can kiss
her palm.  “Not this time.  But you have tired me a great deal.  I have endless
pity for whomever you release that magic of yours upon.”

Her mother breaks in on our
tender moment.  “Xandra, are you alright?”

Xandra turns her attention
to her.  “I’m fine, Mom.  Dad…?”

“He’s fine, I sent him
outside when it all began.”

Xandra’s eyes are back on me
now.  “When what began?”

She is not going to want to
hear this.  I place my hands on her shoulders, wanting to pull her close, but I
refrain.  “When you began to turn the air to flames.”

“What?!  I did not.”

Our relationship would go a
lot smoother if she would stop arguing about the things that are fact, not up
for debate.  Trying to get more oxygen inside of me, I pause before responding
to her.  It does not escape my notice that the other two in this room have
chosen this moment for silent introspection.  “You did.  You pulled so much
magic around you that it was competing for space with the very molecules of the
air.  You created an imbalance.”

Her pallor turns green.  “You
said only black magic practitioners create imbalances.”

I shake my head.  “No, I
said practitioners of black magic create imbalances on purpose, to draw as much
power as they can.  You created an imbalance because you temporarily lost
control of your magic.  It is not the same.”

Doubt remains in her eyes.  “Why
did Dad have to go outside?” 

Well, this is not going to
make her feel any better.  “Because the imbalance you created did not only
affect our plane of existence.”

“How could I affect another
plane of existence while in this one?  They should have been safe, shouldn’t
they?”

Her mother shakes her head
and explains how her plane of existence is close to ours.  “If Kallen wasn’t
here…”  She shakes her head.  “This is all my fault for keeping so much from
you.  We all would have been safer if I had taught you the ways of magic as you
grew up.”  Obviously.  Too late to change things now. 

Xandra’s eyes come back to
me again.  “Am I that dangerous?”

Finally, she is beginning to
understand.  “Yes."

Her face falls as reality
sets in.  Placing a hand under her chin, I lift her face so that I can see her
eyes.  “But, you are learning control.  It was not me who brought you back from
wherever your magic had taken you.  You did that.  I only lessened the damage
while you took control back.  And now, I can reverse the damage.”  Hopefully, I
have still have the strength for that.

“Okay,” she whispers. 

I force my legs to push me
up from the floor.  I am a little unsteady on my feet, but I try not to show
it.  I hold my hand out to Xandra and she places hers in mine.  I pull her up
next to me.  I would like nothing more at the moment than to pull her down the
hallway off the kitchen, to her bedroom, and sleep for the next week.  Well,
sleep eventually. 

I believe it wise to send my
thoughts in a different direction.  “Perhaps you could make your grandmother a
cup of tea while I clean up.”  I expect her to be angry that I am asking her to
do such a mundane thing, but she is not.

She sends a weak smile in
her grandmother’s direction.  “Would you like tea?”

The Angel’s smile is
brighter.  “That would be lovely.  I’m afraid using magic tires me out quicker
these days than it used to.” 

Noticing the woman’s
distinct limp, Xandra goes to her and assists her to the kitchen.  Her mother
goes to check on her father.  I am alone at last, able to focus on repairing
the damage.  I assume a lotus position in the middle of the floor.  This type
of magic takes a lot of concentration.

In my mind’s eye, I imagine
the room as it once was.  I have to imagine everything coming back together, molecule
by molecule, piece by piece.  I am not simply fixing the room with magic.  If I
did that, I would have to sustain that magic for the room to stay intact.  As
soon as I sent the magic back to the earth, the magical repairs would disappear
with it.  I am reversing the magic that caused the damage to begin with.  I am
erasing its effects.

As I sit here, willing the
repairs, I cannot help but wish that I could imagine the furniture as something
a bit more appealing, but it is not my house.  The red couch is horrible,
though.  Regardless, I imagine the brown carpet, then the furniture that was
here before, and then repair the damage to the walls.  It takes much longer
than it should because I am so tired, but it all falls into place eventually.  There
is no trace of Xandra’s destructive magic in the room.  If only I could do this
when she is using her magic.

I am even shakier on my feet
than I was before.  I stumble slightly as I walk to the kitchen and have to
lean against the wall to hold myself up.  I seem to have missed something,
because everyone in the room looks guilty.  Or angry.  Or both.  At the moment,
I decide I do not care what is going on.  “It is done,” I say to the room in
general.

“You look like you should be
lying down.”  As crappy as I feel at the moment, I appreciate the concern on
Xandra’s face.

Her father echoes her
sentiment.  “Are you alright?”

I nod.  “I will be fine if I
rest for a short while.”  I would like to add, curled up around Xandra.  That
is probably asking for too much. 

“Why don’t you take him to
your room so he can lie down?”  her father says to Xandra.  Looking pointedly
at her grandmother, he adds, “I think you could use a little time away from our
guest, as well.”

Xandra does not hesitate to
grab my hand and practically drag me down the hall to her bedroom.  I like her
enthusiasm.  When we are in her room, she closes the door as I flop down on her
soft bed and close my eyes.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

I open one eye to look at her. 
“I would be much better if you were lying here next to me.”

She laughs as she lies down
next to me.  “I guess that means you’re not too tired.”

Grabbing her waist, I roll
us until I am lying on top of her.  I hold my weight off from her with my
elbows.  “Perhaps I am faking fatigue to have a few stolen moments with you.”  Not
true, but I am finding myself to be less fatigued by the minute.  “It is
amazing how you can make flannel sleepwear look good.”

Now she looks embarrassed as
she looks down at her attire.  She groans.  “I guess we should get dressed.”

There is no way I am going
to let her up at this moment.  “Soon,” I say, nibbling at her lips.  She wraps
her arms around my back and pulls me closer, kissing me in a way that makes me
want to take things to a whole new level.  One hand buried in her silky black
hair, I let my other hand explore, eliciting soft moans from her.

“You are so beautiful,” I murmur
against her lips.  My body is pressed so close to hers, she is supporting my
weight.  She does not seem to mind.  When her hands begin to roam, it is my
turn to moan.  She is driving me insane.  I want to remove all obstacles
currently keeping us from joining as one. 

And that is the thought that
brings me back to reality.  We are not hand-fasted.  And her parents can travel
silently through walls.  I am not sure which is the biggest impediment against
us making love, but it really does not matter.  The outcome is the same.

Dragging my lips away, I
lean my forehead against hers and try to get my breathing under control.  My
body is having problems agreeing with my decision to stop things.  It very much
wants to keep going.  “You are going to drive me to distraction.  Perhaps your
father was not wrong in insisting that I act like a gentleman.  For I find when
I am this close to you, I want to be anything but gentlemanly.”

Her sexy smile does not help
calm my body down.  “And I don’t want you to act gentlemanly.”

Growling loudly, I roll away
from her and close my eyes.  She is trying to kill me.  “You are not helping.  My
restraint is precarious at best right this moment.  I prefer not to have your
father find us in a compromising position.”

Rolling up on to her side,
she begins tracing small circles on my chest.  Her voice is husky with passion,
as she says, “Fine.  And you thought you were the only one who’s irresistible.”

How little she knows of her  many
charms.  But, I do not want her to get a big head.  I open one eye and say, “No,
I did not.  I am fully aware of how irresistible you are.  Otherwise, I would
be back in my realm being adored instead of here where you do not do nearly
enough of that.”

It hurts when she pinches my
chest.  I flatten her hands against my chest as both of my eyes open and I try
to look serious as I say, “Ouch, why would you do something so mean?”

“I’ve heard enough about
your Fairy groupies for the day.”

I laugh.  “You are even more
beautiful when you are jealous.”

I smile I do not like creeps
onto her face.  “You know, I haven’t given the whole groupie thing a try. 
Maybe after we take care of Grandpa, I should explore that option.  You do make
it sound appealing.”

I do not know if I am
beautiful when I am jealous, which I am at just the thought of her being with
someone else.  I roll her over onto her back and say, “I prefer your adoring
crowd to be limited to one.”

It is her turn to laugh.  “Oh,
so it’s okay for you to make me jealous, but you can’t take it?”

I certainly am not going to
admit to that.  “I am not jealous.  I simply believe you have too much on your
plate right now to think about locating and keeping the interest of a male
harem.”

A simpering smile touches
her lips.  “Harem?  I like the sound of that.”

I guess the only way to end
this conversation is to kiss her into silence.  And I do.  Deeply.  It is quite
some time before either of us speaks again.  When we do finally part, she says
breathlessly, “Okay, maybe I don’t need a harem after all.”

Exactly what I wanted to
hear.  I roll onto my back once again and close my eyes.  “I thought you would
see it my way.”

A pillow lands on my face
with what I feel is excessive force.  “You’re still a pompous jerk.”

I take the pillow and place
it under my head and grin.  “Yet, you still hold me in your heart.”

“You were awfully sure of
that when I performed that spell earlier, weren’t you?”

That gets me to open my eyes
and look at her.  “I hoped that was the case.  I was happy to have it
confirmed.”

With a satisfied smile, she lies
on her back and slips her hand into mine.  “What am I going to do if I can’t
control my magic when Grandpa comes?”

She is getting stronger; I
need to help her realize that.  “You gained control of it this afternoon.”

She snorts.  She is still
cute when she does that.  “Barely.”

I give her hand a squeeze.  “Neither
barely nor heartily changes the fact that you did gain control.”

She shrugs.  “I guess not.”

We are quiet for a few
minutes.  I try very hard to stay awake to continue the conversation, but it
does not take long for my eyes to close again and for sleep to set in.