The Death Curse

Chapter 19: Some Explaining To Do

I sat on my bed next to Vivian and watched Rhys clean up the salt and candles. Conflicting feelings swirled inside me. "What did they do to your grandfather?"

Rhys kept his eyes down as he swept the tiny grains. "They stripped him of his magic and took it for themselves. He offered it to them in exchange for releasing me from the Black Circle. It was too much for his fragile body."

"And what exactly is the Black Circle? Some kind of bounty hunting group?"

"Kind of. We're...,"  Rhys paused to correct himself. "They're more like contract workers, hired for the dirty jobs the Council can't handle or don't want to associate too closely with. Because of that, the Circle can get away with a lot of shit."

"Like blood magic?" I asked, not really understanding what the words meant.

Rhys finished dumping the salt into a plastic bag before he answered. "Blood magic isn't off-limits though many do see it as dark magic. And if the Council knew about my training sessions with my father as a child they would have detained him. Practicing blood magic is dangerous, especially for beginners. I don't know how many times I passed out from it and didn't wake up until days later. But I was lucky. Others have been known to die from it."

"Then why do it?"

"Because it's the strongest form of magic," Rhys replied. "You've seen me work other spells without blood and there's a lot of the setup and chanting. It takes all that effort to manipulate the energy outside ourselves. Maybe with practice, you can cut somethings out, use fewer candles or crystals. But only blood magic lets you access the power that is already in you and immediately use it. That's why it's draining and why my father forced me to practice it so young. The more I used it the more I was able to maintain it for extended periods of time."

I digested this information for a few moments. "And the Council?"

Rhys crouched to scrap the leftover wax off the floor as he answered. "A group of strong witches who like to make up rules that nobody really follows. Their main role is to act as mediators between magical disputes and to reign in any witches that pose a threat to the community."

"Okay...," I said as I tried to think if I had any other questions before I moved on to the main reason he showed me all this. Nope, no more stalling.  "So how does this explain what you did at the DVD store? What, you just need a good massacre to keep your blood magic skills sharp?"

Rhys flinched at my words. "No. That's not what I was doing. I... made a name for myself when I was with the Black Circle. I was... very angry back then and I took it out on my targets. The name Emrys Fahy was synonymous with 'ruthless maniac'. But when I left, Emrys Fahy was dead. I couldn't be him anymore, I let that anger go. So I became Rhys Pembroke." He smiled sadly. "But Rhys Pembroke can't help you with your curse."

My chest tightened. "What do you mean?"

"I have no sway, no clout as Rhys Pembroke. I'm just a small-time witch who owns a small shop that's about to go under. But Emrys Fahy? He could easily catch the attention of Silas Thorn." Rhys clenched the wax flakes in his fist. "That's why when this opportunity came up to bring Emrys back in a way no one could doubt it was him, I had to take it."

"Why would you go back to that? You've known me for less than two weeks, why throw away all that you built over the last four years to help me?" It didn't make sense.

"Because Rhys Pembroke already had one foot in the grave," he said soberly. "My grandfather always wanted to own his own business so I used what he left me to open my shop. But it wasn't enough and I needed a loan. And if you could guess I didn't have much credit to speak of or anyone to cosign for me. Not having any other options, I went to the Portland witch community and took what I could get..."