by Alane Adams
Melistra stepped to the side.
The famous shield was perched on a sturdy wooden stand. It was almost as tall as she, tapering to a point at the bottom. Strips of dark metal were inlaid around the edges, leading to a round disc in the center. A wooden chair sat next to it.
“Let’s get on with it,” Rubicus snapped from his perch. “Verty, come on, show yourself.”
Wispy fog trickled from the pages of the spellbook, spinning and writhing until the ghostly figure of Vertulious stood before them. He clapped his hands at the sight of the table.
“How I’ve missed tinkering in my lab.” He hovered over the beakers, sifting through them. “Yes, yes, it appears all is in order.”
“I still don’t understand why we need her,” Melistra sniped, pointing at Abigail. “She’s nothing but a witchling, whereas I have great power.”
“Ah, but she’s not just any witchling, are you, dear?” Verty drifted over to Abigail and cupped wispy cold hands on her cheeks. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were different. Do you remember? It was that day in the dining hall when you opened me for the first time. You practically glowed with power. It lit you up from inside like a beacon in the night. I knew right then you were the one. Starshine is a potent magic. One only given by the gods.”
“Starshine?” Melistra scoffed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.” Vertulious winked at Abigail. “Did you like the red sunflower? You had to love the touch of drama. It got everyone talking.”
“But it was a lie,” Abigail said. “There is no Curse Breaker.”
Vertulious smiled slyly. “Maybe not. We’ll have to see, won’t we?”
Melistra stabbed the air with one finger. “When I bring Rubicus back, the title of Curse Breaker will be mine, and everyone in this coven will bow down to me.”
“Except for me,” Rubicus chimed in. “I will stand at your side. I cannot wait to have my powers fully restored, and arms and legs to go with this head of mine. I’ve missed being able to walk about.”
“Of course.” Vertulious bowed and moved back to the table, sniffing at the cauldron. “You’ve prepared an excellent start, Melistra. A base of sulfire and lizardine, followed by two measures of radion and oullium. Well done.”
The witch glowed under his praise. “I would have completed all the steps, but I had not yet acquired the final ingredient.”
She walked over to Robert and grasped the sword at his side, pulling it free.
“Ah, venadium steel, very clever.” Vertulious clapped his hands like an excited boy. “A rare metal these days. Before Orkney was brought into Asgard, it was plentiful as iron.”
Taking a rasp from the table, Melistra ran it along the edge of the blade, scraping some filings off. Pinching them between her fingers, she dropped them into the cauldron. It bubbled furiously, sending up a hazy green mist.
Vertulious sniffed the fumes, then nodded. “Pour some into a beaker for my old friend. Once he drinks it, we will unlock the magic in Odin’s Stone and begin the restoration of life.”
Is that all there is to it? Abigail thought. She ran through the ingredients in her head. How many had there been?
Hugo waggled his fingers at his side, catching her eye. Four on one hand, two on the other. Six. But Melistra had listed only five…
Melistra put the cup to the eager lips of Rubicus.
“Wait!”
Melistra paused as Rubicus hungrily eyed the cup.
“What is it, child?” he snapped.
“There’s another ingredient.”
“What do you know?” Melistra said. “Are you suddenly a powerful alchemist?”
“No, but I know the ingredients. They were in a drawing of Rubicus.”
Endera stepped forward. “Mother, you should listen to her. I believe she’s telling the truth.”
“Quiet!” Melistra hissed. “Stay out of this unless I ask for you to speak. I’ve seen the drawing for myself. I know what it says.”
Endera retreated, a hurt look on her face.
“Verty? Is there a problem?” Rubicus’s brows drew together in a frown.
“The girl is only trying to delay things,” Vertulious said. “Who are you going to trust? Your oldest friend or a second year witchling?”
Abigail opened her mouth to tell him about the hidden symbol, but Vertulious furtively waved his hand, sealing her lips. She couldn’t get anything past them. He nodded at Melistra, who lifted the elixir to the lips of Rubicus.
As Rubicus still hesitated, Verty leaned forward. “If you don’t drink it, I will,” he joked.
That got Rubicus to open his mouth and swallow. Immediately, his gray skin lightened.
“It’s working,” the he-witch crowed. “See, girl, you were wrong. Vertulious would never betray me.” His skin firmed up and turned from gray to white to a pale pink.
And then the skin around his cheeks bumped outward and rippled, as if there were things crawling underneath.
“That’s odd,” he said. “It feels like something’s itching the inside of my skin. Is this normal, Verty? Part of the healing process?”
“You could say that,” Vertulious said. But his eyes had a nasty gleam in them as he watched Rubicus.
“I feel peculiar.” Rubicus’s lips twitched from side to side. “I can’t think of … what were we … who am I?”
Abigail watched in horror as his eyes bulged out of his head as though they were going to burst, then sunk back into their sockets. The skin on his face began to slide away, revealing the rotting flesh beneath.
This was all wrong. Whatever Vertulious had given him, it wasn’t restoring Rubicus, it was…eating away at him. His flesh bubbled and hissed, evaporating in front of her eyes as inch by inch of bone was revealed. As the last bit of flesh disappeared, the skeletal jaw fell open, and a green vapor trickled out.
“There it is.” Vertulious leaned in and inhaled the wisps of vapor. “The last of your magic. I taught you everything you know. It’s only right it returns to me when you die.”
Chapter 29
“No! No! No!” Melistra screamed, shaking her fists.
“Fool! What have you done?”
“Given this coven what it needs,” Vertulious said calmly.
She lifted the gleaming skull, thrusting it in his face. “Him! It was supposed to be him!”
“No.” Vertulious took the skull from Melistra and set it carefully on the table. “Rubicus was a power-hungry fool. He would have taken us right back to where he left off. Now be quiet, or I’ll turn you into a rathos and send you down to the dungeons to live out your days.”
Melistra clamped her lips shut and folded her arms, looking furious.
Vertulious turned to Abigail, who found she’d regained the power to move her jaws. “Come, it is time you did your part.” He snapped his fingers, reciting the word Rubicus had used to ensure her loyalty. “Piscadora.”
Only Abigail heard, “Sneevil butt.”
Calla’s Level One Spite Spell had worked. Abigail almost burst out laughing but then, remembering she had to make this look real, trudged forward obediently.
“I give you credit, girl,” Vertulious said. “That was clever, spotting the formula in that old drawing. I had it done myself, just in case my memory”—he tapped his head—“let me down. The missing ingredient is—”
“Turnium,” she supplied.
“Yes, but did you know it’s so rare I only ever found a pebble’s worth? I needed a safe place to store it until I was ready for it.” Taking a pair of metal tongs off the table, he nodded at her. “Open his jaws.”
Abigail pried the bony jaw open. The back, left molar had a patch of gray metal.
Vertulious wiggled the tooth until it pulled free from the bone. Then he held it up. “Am I a genius? Tell me I’m a genius. Patching his cavity with turnium provided the perfect hiding spot.”
He dropped the entire tooth into the cauldron. At first, nothing changed.
Then the bubbling stopped, and the cauldron went still. A sliver of hope made Abigail hold her breath. Maybe it wasn’t working. Maybe he had the spell wrong. And then a burst of light made her flinch. The surface of the potion caught fire, giving off a cool silver glow.
“Time to unlock the Stone,” Vertulious said. “Abigail, we’ll need the Son of Odin’s blood. Take the dagger off the table.”
Abigail froze. Robert looked at her from across the room with terror in his eyes. As far as he knew, she was under Vertulious’s spell.
“How much … blood?” She reached for the blade. Wickedly sharp, it glinted in the candlelight. Maybe he just needed a drop. She could prick his finger and be done.
“I can’t be sure. Maybe all of it. That’s not a problem, is it?” He turned bland eyes on her.
She held the knife, trying to think. It was a weapon, but he couldn’t be killed. He wasn’t all there yet. The spellbook lay open on the table. Maybe …
Before she could think twice, Abigail raised the knife and brought it down on the center of the book, but the book vanished, and the tip of the blade embedded in the wood table.
“You think I didn’t know you’d avoided my loyalty spell?” Vertulious said softly, waving the spellbook that had appeared in his hands at her. “I’m not a fool, you know. I could smell that Level One Spite Spell on you.” He looked at Melistra. “You can still have what you want. All you have to do is help me unlock the power in the Stone.”
“Anything.” Melistra dipped into a curtsy. “I was … taken by surprise a moment ago. You have my loyalty if I get what I want.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind sacrificing the Son of Odin for me.”
“Mother, no!” Endera flew at Melistra, grabbing her arm. “You can’t. He … he saved my life.”
“I always knew you were weak.” Melistra raised her hand and struck Endera hard enough to send her flying headfirst into the stone wall. The girl slumped unconscious.
“Endera!” Safina rushed to the witchling’s side. “How could you do that?” she cried to Melistra. “She’s your daughter.”
“Not any longer.” Yanking the dagger loose, she stalked over to Robert, slashing his bonds. Grabbing him by his nape, she dragged him over to the Stone. He struggled wildly but he was no match for her strength. She threw him down into the chair and removed his gag.
“Abigail, do something!” he shouted.
Abigail called up a ball of witchfire, but it winked out.
Vertulious waggled his finger at her. “Tut, tut, try that again and your other little friend will no longer remember how to breathe.”
Abigail looked over at Hugo. He looked miserable, shaking his head at her, telling her not to listen to Vertulious. But there was no way she could let him die. Defeated, she turned back. “What are you going to do?”
“Odin’s magic can only be unlocked by Odin himself,” Vertulious said. “But I think his kin will have the same effect. All we need is a little blood.” He nodded at Melistra.
The witch grasped Robert’s arms, wrapping them around the shield in an embrace, then bound his wrists together so that the boy was pressed against the Stone.
She pushed up his sleeve, then drew the blade across Robert’s forearm, cutting deep and causing the boy to hiss in pain. Blood welled up and dripped onto the Stone. The drops turned to steam the moment they hit the surface.
“Now, Son of Odin,” Vertulious said, “I need you to repeat these words after me.”
“Go jump in a pile of sneevil dung,” Robert said.
Melistra grabbed his hair, yanking back his head and pressed the blade to his neck. “Watch your tongue, boy.” She turned eager eyes to Vertulious. “I can magic him into saying anything you want.”
“No. He must say them of his own free will. He can’t be magicked into doing it or it won’t work.”
Melistra released him and took a step back.
“I’ll never say what you want, never!” Robert struggled to free his arms. “I would rather die.”
Vertulious leaned in. “Brave words. But would you send your little friends to their death as well?”
Robert looked around the room at Safina huddling next to Endera, who was slowly rousing, at Hugo still tied to the column, then back at Abigail. His body sagged in defeat.
“I thought not,” Vertulious said. “It’s quite simple. All you have to say is ‘In Odin’s name, I ask that the magic in this stone be released.’”
“Don’t do it, Robert. We’ll think of another way,” Abigail said. “Your father will come for you.”
Vertulious held his hand up, fingers waving in the air. “He might come. But will he come in time? Your choice boy. Do they live or die?”
Robert looked shattered as his eyes searched the faces of his friends. He took a breath, closing his eyes briefly, then said in a clear voice, “In Odin’s name … I ask that … the magic”—his voice wavered, and he bit his lip, struggling to go on—“in this stone be … released.” He slumped against the Stone as he finished.
The Stone vibrated on its stand. The metal lines lit up with blue light, starting at the edges and running all around the Stone until they reached the round disc in the center. The metal disc began to spin, faster and faster, until a single ray of blue light shone out.
Vertulious motioned for Abigail to step forward. “Come, little witch. You must absorb the magic.”
“Not her,” Melistra hissed, shoving Abigail aside. “I will do it.” She flung her arms wide, letting the beam hit her in the center of the chest. “I will be the most powerful witch in the universe!”
Vertulious did nothing to stop her. The alchemist watched as Melistra absorbed the magic in Odin’s Stone.
“I’ve never felt … This is tremendous.” She giggled. “So much power. I will be invincible.”
And then she started to shake, a little tremor at first, and then her limbs jerked like a mad puppeteer was at the strings.
“Mother!” Endera ran toward her, but Abigail caught her around the waist.
“No, you can’t touch it.”
“Let me go!” Endera screamed.
The air was filled with a whirring roar as energy poured into the witch. Melistra seemed possessed, tossed about in the beam like a rag-doll until, in a sudden blinding burst, she disintegrated into particles of light.
Chapter 30
“Mother!” Endera screamed.
“I did warn her,” Vertulious said calmly. “She couldn’t handle that kind of power, but you can.” He gave Abigail a little push. “Now, quickly before the magic escapes.”
“Don’t do it, Abigail,” Robert moaned out. He was pale. Blood poured from his wound faster than it should have, as if the Stone was draining it.
“If you don’t, the boy dies,” Vertulious said. “The longer the Stone emits power, the longer his life force will drain from him.”
“Let me die,” he said weakly. “It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay. Not if Abigail could stop it. She stepped into the beam.
The light wasn’t cold. It wasn’t hot. It was like floating. Her blood fizzed and sang with power. She could feel every cell, every molecule in her body come alive with energy. It was even headier than when she had absorbed her father’s starshine magic.
But after a few moments, it became too much, even for her. Her arms began to twitch and jerk the same way Melistra’s had. Her head felt as if it was going to explode. She couldn’t take much more of this. The pain was excruciating. And then something moved into her line of vision, a figure that wasn’t there before. Was that—
The ghost woman stepped in front of the beam of light. It went right through her, but the light felt different now. Abigail could absorb it without being overwhelmed.
The woman held up her arms, and a halo of light surrounded the two of them, so they were alone. The woman reached up to touch Abigail’s face.
“Who are you?” Abigail asked, feeling that tingle of warmth at her touch.
&n
bsp; “Your mother, my darling.”
“I can hear you,” Abigail said in relief. “But how?”
“The power in the Stone has given my voice strength. I’m sorry I haven’t been there to help you.”
“No, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I went to see Rubicus—”
Lissandra put a finger to Abigail’s lips. “Shh. You did nothing wrong. I came to warn you. I wanted to have more power, and it cost me everything. If you let it, dark magic will sink its claws into you as it did me.”
“I’m trying, mother. I am. But it’s … ”
“Hard?”
“Yes.”
“You must learn to fight it. It is like a hunger that cannot be appeased. If you don’t keep it at bay, it will devour you as it nearly did me. If I hadn’t met your father, and fallen in love, I would have become as ruthless as Melistra.” A single tear escaped Lissandra’s eye and rolled down her cheek. When the drop fell, she caught it in her hand, turning it over. A small white pebble rested on her palm. “A gift for you.” She tucked it into Abigail’s pocket. “And now I must go. It is nearly done.”
“Wait. Please. There’s so much I want to say.”
But her mother backed away into the light until she was gone.
A loud crack brought Abigail back to the room. The stone shield had split down the center. More cracks appeared, running in every direction.
Robert mumbled weakly, “Stop, Abigail. Just let me die.”
Abigail almost laughed. The magic made her feel incredible, as if she had been born to do this. Light continued to pour into her until, with a loud boom, the shield exploded, sending shards of rock in every direction, and the light winked out.
Robert crumpled to the side. His chest rose and fell slowly. He was alive, Abigail was relieved to see, but there was no time to help him.
“Time to finish the elixir, little witch.” Vertulious steered her over to the table and put her hands on the cauldron. “Expelia, expelia, sensatiate.”