Page 91 of Wings of Snow
Brow furrowing, I scanned the text beneath.
...bury a veil within soil, rock, water...
...suppresses any magic created by supernaturals or otherwise...
...regular sacrifice needed to maintain its strength if it’s a large area...
I shot to standing, my chair toppling over behind me. “Mother Below, look at this.” I pointed at the spell and the paragraphs highlighting what it did and how it was created. “See what it says here. It talks about creating a veil that can be buried and will dampen any magic beneath it. And it says that sacrificial lives are needed to maintain it.”
Sven pushed his spectacles up his nose as my mate and his guards all crowded around me. Even the Fire Wolf joined us from his reclusive chair by the hearth.
“Ah, yes. There it is.” Sven nodded as his gnarled finger scanned the text. “I knew it was around here somewhere.”
“Where’s the counter spell?” the hunter asked as Haxil leaned forward and tried to turn the page.
“Should be at the end of the chapter.” Sven flipped the book to the front cover. The black leather binding was blank, no text on it anywhere, as was common among all of Sven’s homemade books. “I really should consider labeling all of these,” he said, almost as an afterthought.
Nish rolled his eyes. “You think?”
Norivun drummed his fingers on the table. “Sven, could we perhaps flip back to that chapter and learn what counter spell is needed to reverse such a veil.”
The Fire Wolf grumbled, “Please do.”
“Griminy witches titties, you’re all a grumbling bunch!” Sven sighed and flipped the pages in his book again until he returned to the chapter I’d found. “Ah yes, the counter spell. Here it is.”
An entire page of foreign words appeared in a language I didn’t understand.
The hunter blew forcefully through his nose. “Latin. Why is it always in Latin?”
“It’s the language of choice for our magical ancestors,” Sven replied without missing a beat.
“I know,” the hunter replied as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s just a pain in the ass. My pronunciation isn’t the greatest.”
Sven patted his shoulder. “You’ve always managed before. I’m sure this will be no different. Now, let’s see if any special ingredients are needed. Ah, look here.” He pointed to the sole line. “Perfect, only one!”
I leaned closer, my heart plummeting when I saw what it was. “Lava rock from the Isle of Malician in the underworld.”
Sven nodded as though such a thing were trivial. “Typical. Warlocks do love their dark objects.”
I glanced at the crown prince and his guards. Dismay was written on all of their features. “But we’re not divine creatures,” I replied. “We can’t go to the underworld.”
Sven gazed at me through his spectacles, which made his eyes look twice the size of normal. “One would question if that were true given the magic I saw in both of you when we first met.”
But any hope I felt dimmed even more when the crown prince shook his head.
“I won’t risk it,” Norivun replied. “To venture to the underworld could result in our deaths if you’re wrong.”
“But you’ll never know unless you try.” Sven grinned.
The Fire Wolf pulled out an object from his pocket, a slim metallic device that was a rectangular shape. He tapped something on the surface, and it began to glow as square-like objects appeared on it. Holding it over the book, he tapped the rectangle, and a sound emitted.
“What are you doing?” the prince asked, his question guarded.
“Snapping a picture of the spell,” the Fire Wolf replied, then showed us the replica on his slim object.
A perfect image of the spell and Sven’s book appeared.
Nish backed up, eyeing the hunter’s apparatus. “What is this sorcery?”