Magic Tides (Kate Daniels – Wilmington Years #1) Read Online Ilona Andrews

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Novella, Paranormal, Romance, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Kate Daniels - Wilmington Years Series by Ilona Andrews
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Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
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It would’ve been too simple.

Darin swam back and climbed up to stand next to me. “What now?”

I looked at Antonio, the little boy without a chain. “Are there any more kids like you? Without chains?”

He shook his head.

“Any other people who are here against their will?”

“Leslie.”

“Who is Leslie?”

“She is a cook,” Antonio said.

“Okay. Go get Leslie and have her bring whatever fuel she has in the kitchen. Oil, spirits, anything like that. And then you, and Leslie, and Garvey can help me gather wood. We’re going to build a bonfire, and then we’re going to pray.”

Either the cruise ship hadn’t bothered with flame retardant upholstery, or the magic somehow canceled it out, because the tower of chairs we’d gathered into a big pile went up like candles. We’d doused them in cooking oil and kerosene from the kitchen, but we might’ve as well not bothered. They burned like tinder despite the damp.

Hopefully the ceiling wouldn’t cave in on us.

We hadn’t found any more disciples while gathering wood. I had sent Antonio to all the places where they gathered, but he found only empty chairs. The woman who’d led me down to the arch must’ve gotten everyone off the ship. As far as I was concerned, letting them leave was more mercy than they deserved. If someone remained, it was on them.

“I’m not praying to him!” Elaine clenched her fists, making the scars on her arms stand out. “He’s the reason I’m here. Ten months! Ten months I haven’t seen my baby. My husband probably thinks I’m dead. My parents…”

Solina, the younger chained-up woman, hugged her.

Of all of them, Elaine had the most fight left in her, but she was like a knife that had been sharpened too much—dangerous yet brittle. She’d almost attacked the old man. Garvey had served Aaron voluntarily. He hadn’t been a slave or taken against his will; he had witnessed everything Aaron had done, and he’d stayed because Aaron had made it worth his while. Garvey deserved everything she wanted to do to him, but Elaine didn’t deserve having to live with it.

“I know it’s hard,” I told her. “And you’re angry. You have a right to be angry. But we must get these chains off so everyone can go home. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the kids.”

Elaine looked around at the clump of chained-up children. Her expression went slack.

“Are we good?” I asked her.

She nodded.

I pulled a small plastic bag out of one of my belt pockets and emptied the mix of herbs into the fire. Blue sparks burst from the fire, filling the air with a thick, smoky aroma. I funneled my magic into the flames, pulled a small vial of my blood out of another pocket, and dripped a few drops into the bonfire.

The flames turned crimson.

The fire pulsed with magic like a giant heart beating.

I didn’t even try to speak Gaelic. I only knew a handful of words, and I’d offend him more than anything. He’d bargained with Aaron so he’d understand me.

“Manannán mac Lir,” I said, sending another splash of magic into the fire.

“Manannán mac Lir,” the chained people intoned behind me.

“Son of the Sea.”

“Son of the Sea.”

“Lord of Emain Ablach…”

“Lord of Emain Ablach…”

“Mag Mell, and Tír Tairngire.” Some of those were technically synonymous, but no god ever wanted less titles. I kept going, echoed by a chorus.

“Over-King of Tuatha Dé Danann, Weaver of Magic Mists Féth Fíada, He who Captains the Self-Guiding Boat Sguaba Tuinne, He who Rides the Steed Aonbharr, your people seek you in their hour of need. We beg you to speak to us.”

They were his people. They might have come from different mythological origins, but all of them were people of the sea.

Nothing. Just ruby-colored flames. I hadn’t expected him to answer right away. It was a very long shot. Most deities refused to manifest, even for the briefest instant. Not only that, but this entire set-up functioned as a faith factory for him. That dumpster of gold was proof of his existence and power. He would know that I was calling to end it, and he’d be reluctant to part with it.

I didn’t share that fact with anyone because Elaine was on edge as it was. I needed them united and committed to begging.

The fire crackled.

I started over. “Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

Fire calls were like a ringing phone, annoying and difficult to ignore. And I had a feeling Manannán might have gotten himself an avatar. In the myths, he liked to travel. The fire call would bug him even more than usual.

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

The flames flashed blue. A man rose from the fire. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, he was naked to the waist. A long kilt or a belted robe hung off his hips, merging with the flames. His long hair and beard were the color of sea foam. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue.


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