Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4)

by Melinda Kucsera

  Algernon’s pulse throbbed at the base of his skull. “But the sanctuary prevents this. You can’t do anything to me.”

  Miru laughed, dark and dangerous. “This isn’t the sanctuary.”

  Panic flushed down Algernon’s spine. He’d felt safe. The sanctuary protected him. His parents and Satiuz Braylen protected him.

  Without realizing it, he’d wandered outside the sanctuary.

  That shiver.

  Braylen should’ve warned him.

  Father should’ve done a better job of warning him.

  What did it mean that neither had?

  “What do you want?” Algernon tried to speak normally but his voice failed to rise above a harsh whisper.

  Miru shrugged. “I was hired to do a job. Getting you and your parents to come here almost finished it. Not quite, but almost.”

  Someone had hired Miru to bring Algernon and his family to the sanctuary? Who? Why?

  “I thought I’d have to plot and plan to set up the last part. I thought it would take a while.” Miru chuckled. “Who knew you’d set yourself up within a day of arriving? Not me. But I’m not one to ignore an opportunity when it walks up and dances for me.”

  Algernon wanted to breathe, to flee, to fight but his body refused. He stood too close to Miru in a frozen panic. “What are you talking about?”

  Miru nodded at the shadow and its skeleton. “You came here for bones. Be a good dog and fetch the bone.”

  “I’m not touching that!” Algernon scurried backward and pulled his hands close to his body. He pressed against Miru’s grip.

  “Look at the big, bad killer here.” Miru snorted. “Sure, you took them all down yourself.”

  “I did! It’s giving me nightmares.”

  “Isn’t that cute? Nightmares. Are they just endless streams of dead puppies?” Miru held up a short, thin blade. “Get the bone or I slide this between your ribs.”

  Algernon froze, staring at the knife. “Why?”

  “I told you, Algernon. I have a job to do. Quit stalling and do yours.” He shoved Algernon toward the shadow.

  The shadow shifted, scraping the bones against the stone. Moaning grew from nothing to a deafening, piteous mewl then receded again.

  Recoiling from the sound, Algernon tentatively reached his hand toward the skeleton. When the shadow failed to react, he took a tiny step closer.

  With his hand only a few inches from the niche, he shook his head. “I can’t tell which bone it is,” he whined.

  “It’s the femur closest to you.”

  The shadow clung to the bigger bones with threads of darkness. “What if the shadow comes with it?”

  “Then I guess you get a new pet to hand over to your daddy.”

  Mention of his father reminded Algernon of his father’s gift. Miru’s knife would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill him.

  Algernon gulped and weighed his options.

  Letting Miru stab him sounded horrible. Interacting with an unknown shadow thing sounded horrible too.

  He glanced at Miru. “Will you at least tell me what it is?”

  Miru smirked at him. “Haven’t they told you anything, kid? These people are trying to live forever. That doesn’t come free.”

  How did Miru know about that? Father had made it sound secretive, like something not to tell strangers.

  Father had also warned him to avoid Miru.

  “You should see the look on your face.” Miru huffed a laugh. “Someone told you that much already, but they skipped the details. Get the bone and I’ll fill you in on the stuff they don’t want you to know.”

  The allure of forbidden knowledge tempted him. Algernon nodded and faced the shadow again.

  He ducked and held his head as far from the skeleton as possible. With a sharp, quick snap of his arm, he shoved his hand into the niche, grabbed the bone, and yanked it out.

  Bones and dust flew everywhere. The skeleton tumbled out of the niche with a clatter. Its shadow wailed and tore apart. Tiny shreds of darkness fluttered with the bones.

  Algernon skittered from the disaster. A shadow shard followed him, chasing the femur. He bumped into Miru.

  He should’ve run the other way.

  “Nice,” Miru hissed with glee. He wrapped a hand around Algernon’s neck and dragged him toward the gate. “Where’s the ring?”

  “You said you’d explain everything,” Algernon protested.

  Miru glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Damn, are you gullible.” He stopped and pushed Algernon against the nearest niche.

  They’d reached the empty ones. Stone pressed against his back in a thick line.

  “But you know what? Despite your mom, an insufferable brat obsessed with fire, I like you. You’re not afraid to do whatever it takes. That’s one of my favorite qualities in a person.”

  Though Miru held him by the neck, Algernon could breathe. He held Miru’s arm out of reflex and frustration more than a serious need to make Miru stop.

  For the moment, Miru seemed willing to talk, and Algernon wanted to hear anything he had to say.

  The shadowy tatter fluttered around the femur like a confused bumblebee tethered to the bone. Where it bumped Algernon’s leg, it sent a tiny stab of frigid cold shooting through his flesh.

  Cocking his head to one side, Miru peered at Algernon. “Has anyone ever told you that your power center is really...strange? I’ll bet you have a hell of a time trying to control your magic.”

  No one had ever said any such thing to Algernon. And yes, he did have a hard time with control and finesse. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s something foreign all wrapped up in it. Would I ever love to strap you to a table and figure you out.”

  Algernon gulped at the growing thirst in Miru’s eyes. He groped for anything to distract the man. “Please tell me what the shadow is?”

  Miru raised an eyebrow. He let go of Algernon’s neck and grabbed his arm instead to raise the femur. “This thing?” He flicked the shadow with his knife.

  The blade passed through the darkness causing no apparent harm to either.

  He rolled his eyes. “They’re flinging around magic of all kinds. Can you imagine the arrogance of experimenting with death magic while knowingly standing over a mass grave? Stupid crap like this happens when you’re too focused on your own thing to see the bigger picture.”

  Algernon rubbed his neck. “What’s the bigger picture?”

  “The basics, kid. Causes have effects. Actions have reactions. You can’t make something from nothing. There’s always a price to pay.” Miru snared Algernon’s shoulder and shoved him forward without following as if he meant to release Algernon and linger in the catacombs. “Didn’t grandma teach you any of that?”

  Sharp pain lanced through Algernon’s lower back in a tiny pinprick near his spine.

  “Tell your mommy that no one makes a fool of me.” Miru held up two objects. In one hand, he dangled the key for the gate as if to tempt Algernon into a fight. The other held his thin knife, slick with blood.

  Algernon’s blood.

  “Now go run to daddy,” Miru taunted in a dark, low murmur. “He’ll make it all better.”

  The pain doubled for having seen his blood. Algernon staggered from Miru. Yes, he needed his father, the healer.

  Even more, he needed to do something to Miru. The idea of having to live in the same place with Miru after this burned his blood.

  Killing those people had made him sick.

  To himself, surrounded by unfeeling stone and empty dirt, bleeding from a wound he doubted could kill him, he could admit they’d deserved it. Those people had earned their deaths.

  Deaths not slow and painful enough to repay the misery and suffering they’d caused.

  Outside of the sanctuary, they could fight. Algernon could attack this despicable man who’d sent terrible people after him.

  He wished he had a blade.

  “I see what you’re thinking,” Miru said as he flicked his blade to th
e side.

  Algernon’s blood spattered on the stone and the dirt.

  “You’re just a kid.” He examined the blade, giving the impression of ignoring Algernon. “I taught your mommy how to use magic properly, boy. She was a—”

  Algernon had one trick he’d learned to use well enough. It had saved his life against two of those terrible people who’d taken his home.

  With a flick of his wrist, a cord shot from his hand to slap Miru in the face and wrap around his body.

  Miru squawked. He flung the knife at Algernon.

  Algernon shifted to the side enough to avoid the blade, though it stung the tip of his partially pointed ear. He tugged on his cord.

  Miru fell. He grunted.

  The blade slammed into Algernon’s back, this time burying itself in his shoulder.

  Surprise. Pain. Rage.

  He hated Miru for scaring him. For stabbing him. For sending those people to kidnap him. For almost getting his grandmother killed. For harassing his parents. For causing the destruction of his home.

  Most of all, he hated that stupid smug smile on the man’s face.

  Like magic always did, the cord spiraled out of Algernon’s control. Power flowed from him, lighting the cord on fire.

  Without thinking, Algernon yanked on the cord, trying to release it.

  The cord sliced through Miru’s flesh. It cut him into pieces and filled the air with the stench of burning meat.

  Algernon froze. His head filled with static.

  Blood burbled over the burned parts and spilled onto the floor. Miru’s eyes rolled to the side and his face relaxed. Death filled the air.

  “No,” he whispered.

  He hadn’t meant to kill Miru.

  Yes, he had, but not like that. The cord should have held him immobile, not cut him up.

  Algernon stared at his hand in horror. He’d killed again. Someone had hurt him and he’d hurt them back.

  Like an animal.

  No, animals killed for food.

  Like a monster.

  The static in his head prickled across his entire body. Pain flared in his back. Two bright, burning spots cried out for his attention.

  Groping over his shoulder, he found the knife handle. His sweat-slick fingers fumbled over it, causing more pain.

  He needed help.

  He needed to escape the scene of his fresh crime.

  Any moment, someone would come running to investigate the noise. They’d find this...mess.

  Algernon ran.

  His legs moved without grace. When he reached the gate, he shut it, locked it, and tossed the key through it. If anyone wanted to find his terrible handiwork, they’d have to make an effort.

  Whimpering between gasps, he stumbled up the stairs.

  At the top, he paused to wait for a dizzy spell to pass.

  Sweat stained his entire body. Guilt stained his entire soul.

  He could have run to his father or Braylen. Madness had consumed him. Attacking Miru never should have even occurred to him.

  Whatever else happened, he had to confess these dire sins before they goaded him to kill again. He’d developed a taste for it, maybe. The sooner he told his father, the sooner he could burn out the cancerous part of him that found killing the only acceptable way to handle a problem like Miru.

  Father had given him directions to the lab. Left here? No, he’d started there, which meant right here.

  Algernon found the door and yanked it open. He threw himself into a room full of books and voices. Chalk marked lines and curves on the floor. A bright, white light blazed in the center of a circle. The light faded to leave the edges and corners in shadow.

  Magic rippled over him. His skin tingled like a swarm of ants crawled over him. They had some kind of working in progress. Even bleeding, drenched with sweat, and ashamed, he hoped his intrusion failed to interrupt it.

  He hoped he made nothing else worse today.

  “Father?” Algernon called into the room.

  The voices stopped.

  “Algie, is that a femur?” Father rushed to his side, emerging from the shadows to greet him. He took the bone, his attention absorbed by it, and left Algernon by the door. “A large bone with a significant aura,” he murmured, already absorbed by the find. As he crossed through the light, avoiding the circle, he beckoned for Algernon to follow. “This is an impressive find. What’s this stuck to it?”

  Algernon wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve. He shuffled into the room, falling behind his father in moments. “A shadow. Father, I—”

  “Fascinating. Elyse, look, an animate shadow.” Father held up the femur. The shadow shard wilted as he crossed the pool of light.

  “I have another one,” Algernon said as he focused on breathing. He dug in his pocket for the second. “But I need—”

  “Good, good.” Without looking, his father beckoned for Algernon to keep following. The shadows swallowed him. “Yes, that’s wonderful, Algie. This femur is probably all we need, but everything helps.”

  Algernon raised the smaller bone he’d liberated. The knuckle gleamed bright, bleached white in the light.

  With another step, the pain in his back worsened. He cried out and bent double, reaching for the knife in his shoulder. The tip of his ear burned.

  “Algie, what’s wrong?”

  “What is that?” a woman asked.

  “Is it...blood?” a man asked. He sounded like Satiuz Braylen.

  The pain grew too great to bear. Algernon crumpled to the floor. He noticed the curve of the chalk and light circle. He lay partially inside it.

  “Algie, are you bleeding?” Father gasped. “Why are you bleeding?”

  “He’s bleeding in the circle, Adyn!”

  “This is amazing,” Braylen said with breathless wonder.

  “Algie!” Father knelt beside him and snatched up his hand. He tugged, trying to pull Algernon toward him.

  Algernon’s body felt thick and stiff. Pressure released inside him. The dagger in his shoulder clunked onto the floor. Though his limbs shifted, moving out of his control, something anchored him to the spot.

  “Cut off the magic!” the woman screamed. “It’s killing him!”

  “But it’s working,” Braylen said. “He’s going to be immortal.”

  “Father,” Algernon whimpered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” His body roiled in agony. He thought someone pulled him out of his skin through those two wounds on his back as long, slippery ropes. “I should have told you.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, Algie. You’re fine. You’re going to be fine.” Father touched his cheek with a warm finger. His forehead crinkled.

  Sandalwood wreathed Algernon. Whenever Father healed him, he caught the scent without trying.

  Algernon waited for the relief.

  Nothing.

  The ropes slowed without stopping. The pain ground his teeth and threw stars into his vision.

  Father turned to the others in the room. “My healing is doing nothing! Why isn’t it working? My power is flooding into him, but the wounds are getting worse!”

  “Cut it off,” the woman snapped.

  “No,” Braylen said.

  “Make it stop killing my son!” Father bellowed.

  “This is my fault.” Spasms wracked Algernon’s body.

  “It’s not your fault, Algie.” Father patted his cheek. It hurt. Like everything else. “Stay awake. Stay with me. You’re stronger than this. You have elf blood.” Tears slid down his cheeks.

  The tiny pinpricks of white in Algernon’s vision grew with every passing moment.

  “How could you sacrifice his only child for this?” the woman snarled.

  “I’m not sacrificing him,” Braylen said, “I’m trusting in our research and process.”

  “It’s not ready yet! You know that.”

  Despite the agony, despite everything, Algernon strangely thought of that moment when he’d seen Miru stowing his money pouch. Had he paid Braylen for
a room? Or had Braylen paid him?

  For…?

  Every muscle in his body tensed. He couldn't feel his father’s touch anymore. His vision clouded.

  The pain remained. It consumed him.

  Would the ropes ever end?

  “I’m sorry.” Every sound took so much effort to grind out.

  Every thought took so much effort to cling to.

  “No, Algernon. I’m sorry,” Father whispered. “I love you, son.”

  Algernon’s limbs thrashed. Who started screaming?

  Why did they sound so far away?

  Would anyone find Miru’s body?

  What would they think?

  Algernon giggled.

  Then nothing.

  Adyn cradled the still, limp corpse of his only child and wept.

  Grab Forgotten Magic, the final anthology in this series, to discover what madness lies ahead for Algernon. Death is often a beginning in the world of Tilzam.

  Interested in The Greatest Sin? Get a free story and find out more about this bingeable epic fantasy series at www.thegreatestsinseries.com.

  About the Authors

  Lee French is a prolific USA Today bestselling author living in Olympia, WA with two kids, two bicycles, and too much stuff. She’s a frequent visitor to Myth-Weavers, an online RPG site, and also trains in taekwondo. Best known for her young adult urban fantasy series Spirit Knights, she is an active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America and a NaNoWriMo Municipal Liaison.

  Erik Kort abides in the glorious Pacific Northwest, otherwise known as Mirkwood-Without-The-Giant-Spiders, though the normal spiders often grow too numerous for his comfort. He is defended from all eight-legged threats by his brave and overly tolerant wife, and is mocked by his obligatory writer's cat. When not writing, Erik comforts the elderly, guides youths through vast wildernesses, and smuggles more books into his library of increasingly alarming size.

  Don’t forget to grab your copy of Forgotten Magic for more fantasy adventures.

  Forgotten Magic

  Introduction for Book III

  Writing three stories that stand alone, yet connect in such a way as to encourage readers to remain on a journey across three books is not a light task. While Forgotten Magic is our last anthology together, it is not the last project any of the authors will take part in, so we decided that rather than a traditional introduction, the twenty-one authors would share a fun afternoon panel with you. (Please note that our afternoon took place with appropriate social distancing as we are under quarantine at the time this is being written. If you have no idea what we’re talking about, then it’s far in the future, and you should look up the 2020 Pandemic or Covid19. It’s an interesting read, we’re sure.)