Inked

body screaming that it was dying. The only thing keeping me vertical was the memory of countless training sessions, stretching on until I was so tired I could have wept, and my father’s voice telling my mother “You underestimate her strength. Again, Accalia.” He’d wanted to be sure that, if I joined the Corps, I was as prepared as he could make me. And no matter how much it hurt, it had been less impossible to do what was asked than to prove him wrong.
    It still was.
    The fire abruptly cut out and I staggered, gulping for air that wouldn’t come. And when it finally did, it filled my lungs like ice water. I glanced around and realized that the last of my shields had dissipated along with the flames. Instead of protecting me, what remained of my magical ability was going haywire.
    The desert floor, which hadn’t seen a drop of water, was suddenly wet with an icy sludge. Cold bit at my face and hands as the moisture in the air began to crystallize. The water around my feet solidified as ice crawled across the sand, tracing delicate patterns in the muck. My feet went numb, my skin started to ache and there was frost in my hair and on my eyelashes. And still the temperature dropped, until I was gasping, trying to draw enough oxygen out of the thinning air.
    Grayshadow was backing up from the approaching frost, uncertainty in his eyes. It couldn’t hurt him—it was only ice. But he wasn’t experienced enough with magic to know that.
    “You’ll never defeat me with wild magic,” I taunted, as he hit a torch and jumped in a very undignified way. “You have power but no precision. Any war mage worth his salt could tear you apart.”
    “Feel free to try,” he growled, whirling back at me.
    So I threw a lasso around his feet and jerked. He hit the ground on his back and went sliding on the ice, an expression of almost comic surprise on his face. His feet were held immobile by the spell, and his arms were thrashing about in a vain attempt to stop himself. It didn’t work, and he crashed into the torches on the other side of the ring, obliterating them.
    The abrupt movement tore something in my wounded shoulder, and the pain was blinding. I gasped and had to fight not to let it turn into a cough, abruptly aware of a liquid, unpleasant sensation in my lungs. Wetness was spreading across my lacerated stomach, warm at first but chilling fast against my skin. I was running out of time.
    “You know,” I rasped, as Grayshadow threw off the spell and stumbled back to his feet. “I’ve often wondered how that story would have turned out, had Red been a mage.”
    “You’re not the only one with tricks, human!” he snarled, and four flashes of gold spilled into his palm.
    I barely had time to recognize them as the missing wolf wards before they sank into his skin and changed, showing their true colors. They were beautiful; easily the best wards I’d ever seen, crystal clear and glowing with power. One was a rich dark brown with white streaks, another a beautiful russet and a third a blinding white, like the sun at midday.
    The last was smaller and dimmer than the others, a slightly bedraggled gray with a white streak on his nose. The vargulf , I realized, and a new rage burned in my stomach. It wasn’t bad enough that Grayshadow had stolen his life just because he needed a doppelganger; he was now planning to use what remained of him to kill me.
    Only it looked like the tats had other ideas.
    As soon as they touched him, Grayshadow started trembling like a fever had gripped him. He tried to brush them off, but they’d already taken hold, becoming part of him. They sprang up his body, and wherever they went, great gashes opened up in his flesh. He clawed more furrows out of his skin, trying to tear them off, but they stayed one step ahead. He screamed beneath their careful savagery, because it couldn’t be borne and had to be; because there was no bracing to meet it and no escape.
    He crouched a few yards away from me, hissing. I knew what was coming before he snarled and sprang, but there was no time to get out of the way. The air around him flared and his body came apart , more violently than any change I’d ever seen. I braced myself, even knowing it was useless. My shields were gone, and no way could I stand against an assault like that. But instead of being struck by a four-hundred-pound wolf, a wave of blood and raw, red flesh hit me like a fist.
    I swiped my arm across my face, smearing the gore but