We’re past this. We know Jules dies. But the creature is still alive. How did they get rid of it?
They called it to them. I remember the words. And then they commanded it to die. I think because they made it, they were able to stop it.
You know how. You don’t need them. You can use any tone, speak any words of any language. You know Xaviero’s tone, his exact pitch. Even if Xayvion is alive, he wouldn’t have come with Xaviero. He would stay safe waiting to see if this trap worked to free Xavier. This creature was made by Xaviero, and you can use his spell and his tone to stop the thing.
The blood on the floor was nearly gone and the creature had wrapped its bloated body around Arno’s leg. Branislava glanced at her sister, using just her eyes. Tatijana stared at the blood worm, horrified. Fen was the closest to the worm and she had to be terrified that he would be attacked.
Branislava is going to try to kill this thing, Zev informed the others. No one move or speak. Give her the chance to do this.
Branislava didn’t dare wait. She closed her eyes and found the voice and intonation of Xaviero. Zev was there with her, perfecting the pitch in her mind before she opened her mouth to speak.
That born of blood and earth,
I call your name.
To me you must crawl,
Hearing no others’ claim.
Her voice was commanding, reverberating through the room. Tatijana flinched mentally, but stayed absolutely still, her eyes as round as saucers. Her hand, however, was on the knife strapped to her waist.
The worm stiffened. Shook its head. Let out a high-pitched shriek that hurt her ears. She repeated the command, making certain that every inflection was exactly as it had been when the three mages had called the creature back to them.
That born of blood and earth,
I call your name.
To me you must crawl,
Hearing no others’ claim.
Still the creature protested, thrashing, but still sucking at the flesh of the fallen man. Branislava pressed her lips together. Something’s wrong. He isn’t attacking me so I’ve got the correct tone and inflection, but he isn’t responding.
That’s not true. He is listening, but he’s confused. Now that I think about it, Xaviero would have prepared that twine somewhere else. He just had to switch it with the cord Arno wore after Arno was dead. Xayvion could very well have been with him. I am able to listen to any tone or accent and speak languages nearly flawlessly. It is a gift I was born with. Share Xayvion’s tone and I’ll do my best to reproduce it.
Branislava didn’t want to take the chance that he might accidentally draw the blood worm’s attack, but she had no choice. The confusion wouldn’t last long and the worm would be looking to kill. She repeated Xayvion’s voice and intonation, nearly a replica of Xaviero’s only a tiny bit deeper.
She gave an almost imperceptible nod and together, their voices rang out through the room.
That born of blood and earth,
I call your name.
To me you must crawl,
Hearing no others’ claim.
This time the worm reacted immediately, swinging around and slithering toward them like a trained dog might to his master. It stopped directly between them, almost touching Zev’s boots. She had no idea if blood called it and if it would detect the difference. She didn’t dare take the chance. She pushed the next spell into Zev’s mind, repeating it several times.
I’m ready. Let’s kill this thing.
He made her feel confident. That was the thing about Zev she loved the most—his belief in her abilities—in their ability when they were together.
She took a deep breath and nodded to him. Once again their voices filled the room—not their voices—but the voices of the two mages combined.
Of blood you were born,
I call to your spoor.
I see that which is hidden,
May your path be no more.
As you were made,
So shall you die.
That which was created,
Shall now be untied.
The blood worm lifted its head and shrieked even as it began to break apart. Blood spilled out of it in streams, the twine binding it together shredding to reveal an empty shell that was nothing but teeth and blood. The creature continued to make long, hideous noises until its head unraveled as well and it fell to the floor in the middle of the pool of blood, no more than regular twine.
There was a long silence. Branislava let her breath out slowly and backed away from the innocent-looking string and the widening pool of blood. She pressed a hand to her heaving stomach. It was all too much for her, the memories, the sight of Arno’s body and the worm breaking apart.
Zev was there immediately, enfolding her into his arms, turning her so that his body shielded her from the others. “Let’s get you outside, cheri,” he said softly. “You need to be in the fresh air.”