“I am Taurion, son of Vornedir,” Sinasre’s father boomed, “and I won’t leave without my children.”
Nyquist weaved his hands in a long, complicated pattern, preparing a spell that promised to be terrible.
We had to stop him. Dread throbbed in my chest, intensifying. I fought against the time spell, letting magic flow through me as I cast different incantations that might unbind me. None of them worked.
Nyquist released his spell, hands fully extended toward Taurion. A wide shaft of red magic shot toward the fae. Taurion crouched, sword rising to meet the attack. Crimson light enveloped him from head to toe.
I watched, transfixed. Sinasre and Anama had practically lost their mother, would they lose their father now?
Slowly, Nyquist’s blood-tinted magic began falling like a curtain. Taurion was gone. The old man smiled with satisfaction. Except when the curtain fell away completely, it revealed the fae crouched low to the ground like a prowling tiger.
Nyquist gasped as Taurion pounced. Twisting in midair, he sprung like a gazelle, soaring over Nyquist and landing behind the old man. At Nyquist’s back, Taurion trapped him in a chokehold, the glyph-edged sword quick at his throat. The blade pressed into the regent’s wrinkled neck.
“Release my children or live a life of torture until you do,” Taurion hissed.
A few of Nyquist’s followers raised their hands, ready to strike.
“Stop!” Nyquist ordered, his voice shaking. “Don’t cast, you idiots. You’ll hurt me.”
Half of the warlocks lowered their hands, but the rest seemed to be considering the benefits of being rid of the old man.
Shit! They were all a bunch of traitorous snakes. Someone had to do something. Could no one get free of this blasted time spell? What about Rowan, he had extra speed, didn’t he? I couldn’t see him with my limited range of sight. Irmagard and Fedorov needed medical attention. Was everyone with any sort of power out of commission?
Something touched my ankle. I slowly shifted my eyes downward and realized it was Fedorov. Taishi was kneeling by his side. He had been tending to the professor’s wounds when the time spell hit us.
“Bystr kak veter. Menya nikto ne ostanovit,” Fedorov’s voice echoed next to my ear.
What?
“Bystr kak veter. Menya nikto ne ostanovit,” he repeated. His voice sounded hoarse but normal. It wasn’t dragging the way mine had when I tried to speak. Why not?
Then it hit me. Fedorov’s speed spell! It must be enough to cancel out the slowness. Fedorov was giving me what I needed to get free.
“Bys… tr,” I said under my breath, each syllable coming out as slow as molasses.
As I painstakingly tried to repeat Fedorov’s incantation, Nyquist growled, angry at his presumed allies who seemed ready to let him die.
“Stand back,” he ordered, then he quickly added, “I will release your children, Taurion. Then you will leave. Agreed?”
What? He was trying to bargain?
“Bystr kak veter. Menya nikto ne ostanovit,” Fedorov’s voice insisted next to my ear.
I continued the spell, wishing the words were easier. I didn’t speak a word of Russian. “Kak… ve… ter,” I managed.
“You filthy humans can kill each other,” Taurion said. “I care not about your squabbles. Give me my children and leave us out of this for good.”
No, he couldn’t abandon us. We would all be dead by now without their help. The regents were too many, too powerful.
“Men… ya nik… to,” I continued as Fedorov repeated the words over and over.
“As you wish,” Nyquist said just as his chest seemed to split in two and a brilliant light poured out of him as if he’d swallowed the sun and it were now ripping out of his unhinged ribcage.
The light poured out and shot toward Nyquist’s destroyed cottage. It snaked around the fallen debris, twisting between torn chunks of brick and concrete as if searching for something. Finally, it stopped, rose twenty feet up in the air, then plunged back down and burrowed into the ground like a drill.
A moment later, the light pulled back out of the ground, reared its head and, like a giant sea monster, spewed the contents of its guts onto the ground.
A body.
It rolled across the lawn and came to a stop on its back.
Anama!
Nyquist had really freed her.
Without Anama’s power, Nyquist’s time spell died. I could move again. Everyone else could, too. I staggered forward and fell on one knee. Others put their arms out to keep their balance. Could Nyquist not use the other Loopers he’d trapped? I had no idea how any of this worked.
“Ne ostanovit,” I blurted out, the final words of Fedorov’s incantation tumbling out of my mouth since I’d been so intent on finishing it. Great, just when I didn’t need it anymore.
Taurion gestured toward one of the other fae warriors to check on Anama. A blond male with long tresses down his back pulled away from the others and ran to her. He helped her sit, then stand after she got her bearings. She seemed shaky on her feet but otherwise unharmed.
“Father?” she mouthed when she noticed Taurion.
Her father just nodded, still holding Nyquist, the sword at the old man’s neck. “Now, my son,” he demanded.
“He’s in the infirmary,” Nyquist said. “Free of my spell, able to wake. You can go get him.”
Shit! Nyquist had been keeping Sinasre in a magical coma? The bastard! I was going to kill him. I stood up. Fast. Too fast. I raised my hands. They moved in a blur. Wow, I was like freaking Flash. Fedorov’s spell was da bomb.
As our side regained movement, people squared their shoulders, ready to attack. An astute teacher whose name I didn’t know cast a fast attack spell. It hit one of the distracted regents, sending him to the ground screaming in pain as branches and leaves sprouted from his ears.
“Jasper! Take care of them,” Nyquist snapped.
“My pleasure,” Professor Hitchcock-Watson said, stepping forward.
Tempest and Rowan had also snapped into action, the first releasing a string of tornados, and the latter running at Hitchcock-Watson with his supernatural speed, looking intent on beheading the old man.
Except Rowan and the tornados never made it there because Hitchcock-Watson did the same Iron-Man thing Nyquist had done earlier and hit us with blinding light from his chest.
Everyone slowed again.
What?! Hitchcock-Watson was also hosting a Looper? Damn! I knew he was garbage. It seemed Nyquist couldn’t access the other Loopers’ powers. Apparently, it wasn’t that simple. Maybe he had to perform some kind of spell to absorb their powers and be able to use them.
“And a little extra for you,” Hitchcock-Watson said, focusing on Rowan and hitting him with a brighter light.
So that’s how they’d been able to neutralize Rowan’s vampiric speed.
Geriatric bastards!
But what about me? I had extra speed, too. I surreptitiously flicked one finger. It moved at a normal rate. Hitchcock-Watson had only canceled out Fedorov’s spell, which meant I could still move.
Unsure of what to do, I remained frozen. I didn’t want to be hit with extra snail juice like Rowan. I was the only one who could do something, but what? Teachers, subversives, and fae hadn’t been enough to defeat the regents. How could a single junior student do anything to help? I stayed motionless, biding my time, thinking as hard as I could.
How do I turn this evil tide?
“My son!” Taurion demanded again, jostling the sword at Nyquist’s neck. “Bring him here.”
“Fine,” Nyquist said, his mouth twisting in a small smile that Taurion couldn’t see. The evil geezer had something up his sleeve, but what?
My heart pounded as my mind reeled.
What do I do? What do I do? My hands itched with spells that would be useless.
If Nyquist won, the Academy as I knew it would be destroyed. He would bar access to non-wizards. Hell, he would probably block the portals to
all except regents, use their powerful magic for who knew what else. And with the Loopers, they could do nearly anything.
Nyquist spoke a conjuration, directing his hands toward the infirmary. The air before him shimmered like starlight and a tall figure began to take shape, particles gathering together as if pulled by a magnet.
A startled Sinasre took shape. His hospital-style robe reached past his knees and hung on him like a curtain. He blinked in confusion, body drooping with weakness, red hair tangled with bedhead.
“Father?” he croaked. A timid smile began to spread over his lips. Then his eyes widened and his robe fell off his body, leaving him naked.
Before I could process this, Sinasre screamed in pain.
A spiked chain was tied around his chest, tearing into his skin, squeezing, crushing him.
“Sinasre!” Taurion exclaimed, shoving Nyquist out of the way and jumping to help his son.
In one swift motion, he sliced at the chain around his son’s chest, cutting it clean off. The torture device fell to the ground, leaving behind an angry red mark and small lines of blood streaking down Sinasre’s torso. Sinasre’s knees gave. Taurion stepped forward to catch him.
Taking advantage of the Taurion distraction, Nyquist flicked his hand and knocked the sword out of the fae’s hand. Realizing his mistake, Taurion let Sinasre fall and scrambled toward the sword, but he never made it there. Without the magical sword, he froze in midair as Hitchcock-Watson’s caught him.
“Surrender your weapons unless you want me to kill your leader,” Nyquist said, turning to the other fae warriors, magic sparkling on his fingers.
The fae exchanged conflicted glances.
If they surrendered their weapons, we were all done for. They couldn’t do that. They had to fight, even if they didn’t care about our fate. Except Nyquist had given them no way out. I could see it in their eyes, they would not risk Taurion.
That’s when I knew what I had to do, and I only had one shot.
I set my sights on Hitchcock-Watson, letting my cuffs charge with the meanest, gnarliest blasting spell I could think of. My body buzzed with energy, so much that I feared someone might notice me before I was fully charged.
Yet, no one did. They were so confident in their control of the situation that no one had been watching us, especially not the junior student with a history of screwing things up.
I jerked my hands up and let loose my spell.
It hit Hitchcock-Watson square in the chest, blasting him on his ass, skidding him across the lawn and leaving him smoking on the ground. The time spell petered out as he did.
A cheer escaped my lips. Blasting that old fart had felt good.
Nyquist’s attention snapped in my direction. His eyes bore into mine, and I could sense his hatred like a living thing.
But he was too late. Our ranks came to life. The fae charged without hesitation. Nyquist glanced away as a massive warrior came at him with a sword. In a flash, the regent teleported himself out of harm’s way as the blade bit down. It struck dirt as his body disappeared.
I searched for the coward but couldn’t find him. Where had he gone?
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed as Nurse Taishi left Fedorov’s side and darted toward Irmagard, reminding me that she’d been injured. I followed after him, my worry for the counselor taking over the logical side of my brain that said I should join the fight. We could not lose her too.
Falling to his knees, Taishi weaved his hands over Irmagard. I joined his side and watched the wound on Irmagard’s abdomen begin to mend. She winced and dug in her pocket, pulling out a small vial.
“Velox Vitae,” she said.
Velox Vitae? That was the potion Dean McIntosh had given me after Answorth attacked me and almost drained me dry. Irmagard must have picked up the trick from her sister.
Taishi snatched the vial from her hand and quickly poured its contents into her mouth. Irmagard sat up like a puppet on a spring, fully revitalized.
“We have to get out of here,” she snapped.
“What?” I asked.
She ignored me, but Taishi gave me a weird look as if he’d never seen me in his life. Maybe he’d been hit in the head during all the commotion.
Chaos reigned around us. The fae wielded their swords, blocking spells and bouncing them back toward the regents and their cronies.
“They have more Loopers,” Irmagard said. “And slowing time isn’t the worst they can do.”
Oh, god, no. No more Loopers, please.
But I had seen many of them hanging in that dreamscape. So many that each of the regents could be hosting one.
I blurred to my feet, Fedorov’s speed spell still strong. I glanced around, searching for a target. Rowan flashed past, snatching Taurion’s sword from the ground and tossing it back at the fae. The blue-haired male jumped right into action, pushing Anama and Sinasre behind him. Tempest swept an arm in front of her and released an electrified tornado at the regents, but one of them easily dissipated it with a quick flick of his wrist.
Damn! I was fighting on the same side as Tempest? My mind did somersaults trying to make sense out of that.
Focusing on the regents, I tried to spot a target. Anyone threatening to let out Looper magic would do. A cloaked figure casually strolling forward caught my attention.
The mentalist again.
Hadn’t Rowan knocked him out of commission?
An unmistakable evil aura emanated from him as he stepped ahead of his comrades to face us.
I crouched, then took a step forward, expecting to burst in his direction like a rocket, but I only moved at normal speed.
“No,” Irmagard said, her hand resting on my shoe as she rose from the ground to a kneeling position with Nurse Taishi’s help.
I glanced between her hand and her pale face, anger washing over me. Why would she do that? I had a right to fight just like everyone else.
“I said we have to get out of here!” She began issuing an incantation, Latin words pouring out of her in a breathless litany. Her arms rose above her head, and her words grew in a crescendo. Noticing her intense trance, the mentalist turned in Irmagard’s direction, green, crackling hands rising.
“Not today,” Taishi said, shooting an attack at the mentalist at the same time that I released my own.
As our combined magic flew through the air, Irmagard’s hands clenched and came down toward the ground. Her tight fists pounded the lawn in front of her with the force of a giant.
The ground shook. A vast force traveled outward in circles. The ground rippled like water, the waves moving at a prodigious speed and hitting everyone.
I threw my arms out for balance as the force threatened to land me on my ass. Everyone in a forty-foot radius stumbled, friend and foe alike.
What the hell was Irmagard doing?
Before I could think of a logical explanation, the ground opened up at my feet and swallowed me whole.
Chapter Thirty-Three
SPRING SEMESTER
MID-MARCH
I woke to the sound of screaming.
No, not screaming. Braying.
A donkey was braying, a bleating horrible sound that wrenched me out of my peaceful darkness.
Disoriented, I blinked into the sunshine only to see a black and gray donkey galloping frantically around his pen, which I also happened to be in. I stared down at the muck puddled around my body, the smell pervading my nose.
What in the fresh hell?
“Yardım yardım. Onu buradan çıkar!” the donkey yelled, bucking into his gate and jangling the chain.
“Berat, please. It’s alright.” Irmagard stepped up to the gate and put her hand gently on the trembling donkey’s head.
Berat, the donkey. We were in Turkey.
Irmagard’s eyes fell on me. “Oh, my. There you are. I feared we had lost you.”
She opened the gate quickly, closing it after her to keep the still-shivering Berat inside, and hurried in. Grabbing my hand, she helped me
stand up. My feet squished into the moist soil with horrible squelching sounds.
“So sorry about that, Charlie. What a mess. Let’s get you out of here and clean you up. That transportation spell was rather large. A lot of people to move and such a long way.”
Transportation spell? The last I’d known, there was a battle and the ground was swallowing me up. And, what people?
As I approached the gate, I saw.
There were over two dozen people milling around the field outside the donkey’s corral. Over to the left, Professor Middleton, Nurse Taishi, and Professor Fedorov, looking bashed up but conscious, sat talking. To the right, a brooding woman with long black hair rested on a log with her back to me. Tempest. Standing with her was a very hairy man who looked like a young Wolverine and another dressed all in leather.
Rowan.
His eyes flicked up, took me in, then darted away as if he hadn’t seen me, or had no desire to come over and check on how I was. Emotions rumbled in my chest, but there was too much to process to dwell on my asshat ex-boyfriend.
Other people were here, too. Some of the teachers I saw fighting for our side and a few warlocks I didn’t recognize. Overall, about thirty people—more than had been at the battle—gathered about as if waiting for something to happen.
I was back in the place where I’d spent my summer, Elspeth’s farm outside of Doğaüstü Akademi. I didn’t see Elspeth, but if I knew her, she was in her cottage making biscuits for thirty.
“What happened?” I asked Irmagard as she led me out of the gate and closed it behind us.
“What happened was we lost.” She shook her head sadly. “The battle, not the war, however. Don’t despair. Now, let me clean you up.” Clapping her hands together, she moved them down my body, making the muck and mud flake off and fall to the ground.
“There. Much better.” She turned toward the crowd, still talking to me. “You were the last we needed to locate. We can meet now. We’ll head into the library.”
Irmagard put two fingers to her throat and projected her voice across the area. “Let’s go inside, everyone. We don’t have much time.”
Junior Witch Page 25