Dead Magic Read Online Free PDF Page B

risked her death.
    Opening his eyes, he looked at Mirabella. "You should rest now. This next bit is going to take some time."
    The little girl shook her head and plopped on the ground beside her mother. Cross-legged, she pulled her mother's limp, blunt hand onto her lap and continued to watch. Winslow smirked. He should have expected that response. Then he closed his eyes and devoted his attention onto the woman's head injury. He had to go slow. No bones could just snap into place here, it could disturb the delicate brain tissue beneath.
    In his mind was only the contusion, the spider cracks webbing away from the impact point-a crater that terrified him enough that he avoided it for the moment. Magic swirled through the spot, oh-so-carefully mending the cracks, taking it a centimeter at a time.
    If they were very, very lucky, he'd be done by sunrise.
    ***
    "So now we are going to Tournament?" Dorian tried to hide the annoyance in his voice. It had taken him the better part of an hour to track his wife down, and what he found her doing was just as baffling as her sudden announcement at tea.
    In her old workshop, outside of Delgora Manor, Elsie had snuck away from all of the guards and Warders without even leaving him a note. It was only by relying on his Talent that he'd been able to find her. He left footprints through heavy dust on the floor and tried to ignore the drape of cobwebs in the corners. She'd abandoned this shop when she'd ascended to House Witch and, to be quite honest, he'd forgotten about it himself.
    One of the dress forms had been stripped of its sheet and placed prominently in the center of the room. Likewise, she'd bared one of the work tables and sat sketching plans for a new dress. The only magic present in her current task was shown in the bright candelabra light fixtures. Dorian knew the electric lights were faulty, normally flickering and dim, but Elsie made them shine.
    "It would appear so," she said without looking up.
    "Is this another premonition?" Dorian self-consciously glanced at her right hand.
    She'd taken off the glove in order to work, revealing the gold, shimmering tattoos that curled around her skin, looping between fingers. Eight years married and the sight still jarred him. He could still hear the pitch of Magic's voice as the Dellidus creature attacked, could feel the shared agony as it began to feed on their god.
    "I wouldn't call it a premonition so much as an order." Elsie frowned at the sketch. "Lavender. Lavender would be better, she's too skittish for red."
    Dorian took a moment to digest her words. Leaning against the doorframe, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and squinted at her. "Elsie."
    She stared at the sketch for another long minute before looking at him. The haunted, tormented look on her face only confirmed his suspicions. Things were getting worse. A mere month into their marriage, she'd started having nightmares. A week later, she'd taken to pacing through the Manor in the dead of night, not asleep but not totally awake, either. Dorian was aware of every shift in her, his Talent was so attuned to hers that he could feel the gnawing, ever-present fear she harbored. A fear she had no name for and precious little understanding of.
    The ark project had mollified her, given her something to do, but it was almost finished. He hadn't understood what the thing was for at first, but he'd taken a tour three weeks ago and finally caught on. Inside the massive thing were rooms upon rooms, three large kitchens spread out to accommodate a lot of people. She'd made eighteen gardens inside the structure, all of them engineered to use artificial light. But perhaps most frightening of all, was that she'd made certain none of it required magic.
    The pain in her eyes stabbed into him, but he stayed where he was. "He's talking to you now, isn't he?"
    Her gaze fell to the tattoos and he watched her flatten her hand over the paper. "I should have known I couldn't hide it from