by Linsey Hall
Florian was nowhere to be seen as I entered. The fireplaces burst to life, sending a golden glow over the colorful paintings and leather-bound books.
I went straight over to the book I’d found earlier this week, the tiny volume that had caught my attention when we were searching for the location of Orvieto.
Despite the exhaustion that pulled at me, I moved quickly, my druid sense growing stronger and stronger. With a trembling hand, I reached for the book. It fell open to the same page.
The crow stared out at me, dark eyes bright.
I gasped.
Doomsday Magic
Dragon’s Gift: The Druid Book 5
1
“Do you really think this will work?” Caro asked as we walked onto the main street in Darklane.
“I hope so.” I sidestepped a dodgy-looking character wearing a dark cloak and moved deeper into the black magic neighborhood of Magic’s Bend, Oregon.
The sun was beginning to set here, which only served to make the creepy street even creepier. It was creep-squared. The three-story buildings were Victorian in style, but their colorful fronts had been long covered by streaks of dark magic that looked like soot. Even the air smelled dirty here, and the eyes that peered at us from the shadows were not friendly.
Lachlan followed close behind, guarding our backs as we headed toward the Apothecary’s Jungle, the shop owned by Aerdeca and Mordaca. We hoped the two Blood Sorceresses would be able to help us.
As we walked, Caro rubbed the tattoo on her palm. I could almost feel her despair radiating toward me. She dropped her hand to her side.
I reached for it and squeezed. “Don’t worry, Caro. We’ll get that tattoo off of you. The Fates will never make you their slave. We won’t let them.”
She nodded, her eyes stark. The tattoo had been forcibly applied three days ago, part of an evil plan to control members of the Protectorate. To what end, we had no idea, but it couldn’t be good. Over eighty percent of our staff now bore the mark.
It was a huge freaking problem.
Technically, Caro shouldn’t have left the security of the Protectorate castle. One step outside of the grounds and the tattoo’s spell could ignite, whisking her away to become a slave to the Fates.
Caro dropped my hand. “We have so few of these Seawort protection potions that I feel guilty using one to come see Aerdeca and Mordaca. I hope this works.”
“It will.”
Caro was our guinea pig. The Protectorate had a few potions that blocked the tattoo’s dark magic from stealing her away, and we were banking on the Blood Sorceresses being able to fix Caro. They made house calls, but their magic was strongest here in Darklane. Since we needed some seriously strong magic to get out of this bind, we went to them.
The scent of old socks and rotten fruit drifted out of an alley as we passed, and I skirted around to the side, avoiding the noxious smoke that spilled out. Not all dark magic was evil—some of it walked the line—but whatever was going on in there was bad news.
Normally I might peek in to see what was up, but my priority was Caro.
Up ahead, the sign that hung over the Apothecary’s Jungle creaked in the wind. Beneath the layer of grime that coated the three-story building, I thought the paint might have once been purple.
“I never thought this part of town suited them,” I said.
True, Aerdeca and Mordaca weren’t innocent flowers, but they weren’t as dark as this place.
“There are parts of them we don’t know about, I’m sure,” Lachlan said.
I glanced back at him and nodded. “They’re enigmas wrapped in riddles wrapped in mysteries and all that.”
“Well, thank fates they’re here to help, because we’re at the end of our line,” Caro said.
“It’s really weird how we keep thanking the fates while fighting them,” I said. “I know it’s just a turn of phrase and doesn’t mean them specifically, but still, it’s weird.”
“Totally weird.” Caro chuckled and climbed onto the narrow steps that led to their front door.
The air smelled a little bit fresher on their stoop, but that was probably my imagination. I raised my hand and thumped the lion door knocker, then waited.
When the door swung open to reveal Mordaca, I grinned. She was wearing her usual plunging black dress that would put Elvira to shame, and her black bouffant reached at least eight inches toward the ceiling. The black paint that streaked across her eyes looked like a mask, and her lips were red as blood. Her nails were filed to points and painted black.
She played the role of Blood Sorceress perfectly.
Probably because it wasn’t a role.
“Good, you’re here.” She had a pack-a-day smoker’s voice and magic that tasted like whisky. “Come in.”
We followed her into the small foyer that was tiled in black and white. Cobwebs sat high in the corners, giving the place a real haunted-house feel.
“This way. Aerdeca is waiting.” She turned and led us down a short hallway toward their workshop.
Tentatively, I sniffed the air. No black magic smell here, though there was something slightly off. Magic that walked the borders, probably.
“This place is cool,” Caro whispered.
Sorta. Mostly I thought it was a bit creepy, but Aerdeca and Mordaca were our friends, so I wouldn’t say it. I didn’t have the best manners in the world, but I knew enough to keep my trap shut on that account.
We stepped into a workshop that looked similar to the one Lachlan kept in France. There was a massive wooden table in the middle covered in bowls and knives, along with a few vials of potion. Shelves lined the walls, hundreds of glass bottles glinting in the low light of the fire flickering in the hearth. Herbs hung from the ceiling, delicate plants that waited to be used in their blood magic.
“Good, you’re here!” Aerdeca’s bird-song voice sounded from behind me, and I turned.
She swept into the room wearing one of her signature white pantsuits, her blonde hair falling like a waterfall over her back. She wore little makeup, and her magic felt like a soft breeze. Like her sister, she wore her nails dagger sharp, but they were painted white.
Both of the sisters were packing a punch today, if I could already feel their magic.
It was tempting to think of Aerdeca as the nice sister—she wore white and sounded so sweet, after all—but that would be a mistake. A big mistake.
Neither was sweet.
“Let’s see it.” Aerdeca walked forward on white stilettos, holding out her hand in an expectant gesture. “I heard you’ve got a real doozy of a problem.”
“That’s the truth.” Caro stuck out her hand, palm up. Her short platinum hair gleamed in the light of the fire, but her eyes looked tired. Worried.
Aerdeca took her hand and leaned over, her brow creased. Her already pale skin went even whiter. “Yes, this is bad news.”
“Let me see.” Mordaca budged her sister aside, her long black skirt swishing. She bent low over Caro’s hand and squinted, her red lips pursed. Then she looked up at Caro. “Honey, you’re in trouble.”
“Can you help me?”
“We can try.” Mordaca dropped her hand and stepped back. She looked at her sister. “Ready?”
“Let’s do this.”
They turned and began to pull vials of liquid off the shelves.
Shit.
They didn’t even ask about payment. That was bad news. The Blood Sorceresses always asked for payment up front. Always. I’d heard my friends the FireSouls speak in hushed voices of the times when they didn’t mention money.
That’s when you knew you had it bad. A problem so big they wanted to solve it without worrying about the green stuff.
Obviously, I didn’t mention that to Caro.
Instead, I looked at Lachlan. His dark gaze followed the Blood Sorceresses, concern creasing his brow.
He got it.
For the last three days, he’d done everything he could to figure out what exactly the tattoo did and
how to remove it, to no avail. Seers and mages had come to the Protectorate—anyone we’d ever helped—each trying to solve our enormous problem.
No one had had any luck.
Every other Protectorate member was hunting answers, but no one had found any. Yet.
Mordaca turned to us. “Almost ready.”
She and her sister each carried a bowl, and their pockets were stuffed full of small vials of potion. They stepped up to the narrow end of the table and pressed their hands to the wood at the corners.
Magic swelled briefly in the air, the taste of whisky and the feel of a breeze. The fire in the hearth flared, and then the table began to move, the massive wooden structure sliding across the floor.
There was nothing unusual underneath it that I could see, but Mordaca and Aerdeca stepped toward the patch of floor that had been revealed by the moving table.
Each sister used one of her dagger-sharp claws to pierce her own finger until blood welled. They held out their hands, letting a tiny droplet fall to the stone floor.
Magic surged again, this time strong enough to blow my hair back and make my throat burn. The stone floor began to shimmer, then it disappeared, revealing a dark staircase that led underground.
“This is why you wanted us to come to Darklane,” I said.
Mordaca looked up. “Exactly. Our magic is stronger here because of this. Now, come on.”
She and Aerdeca disappeared down the stairs, their heels clicking on the ancient stone.
I followed them, going first and trailing behind Mordaca. The earth smelled damp, and the only light came from a pale green glow up ahead.
It grew brighter as we descended, until finally, I stood on a little platform, facing a wall of glowing green vines. They blocked our path, moving like snakes, shifting and slithering over each other.
I shivered. “Wait, are those? Snakes?”
“They’re called ærlig vines,” Mordaca said. “They make sure that no one breaks in.”
A vine reached out and slapped against me, hard enough to sting. Another reached for my wrist and tightened around me.
“Hey!” I tried to pull back, but it only tightened further.
“Calm down,” Mordaca said. “It just wants a drop of your blood.”
“Oh, that’s all.” I scowled at her, then called a dagger from the ether.
It appeared in my free hand, and I gripped the hilt, turning the blade so I could prick the finger of my bound hand. Pain pinched briefly, then the blood welled. Next to me, Lachlan and Caro did the same, each drawing a tiny drop of blood.
“Do exactly as we do.” Aerdeca pressed her still-bleeding finger onto a particularly fat vine.
The bright green plant slithered back, and its fellows followed, creating a gap in the vines. Aerdeca stepped through, disappearing into the morass. It closed behind her immediately, opening again when Mordaca did the same.
The vine that wrapped around my wrist was squeezing tighter, and my fingertips were starting to tingle. “You guys mind if I go next? I want this thing to let me go.”
“I sure as heck don’t want to go first,” Caro said.
Lachlan nodded.
I turned my bleeding finger toward the vine and pressed it to the slick surface. Immediately, the pressure on my wrist loosened, and the vines slipped away from the space in front of me, slithering back to reveal a narrow passage.
I sucked in a breath and stepped into the darkness. The vines reached out to slap at me as I passed through, one landing right on my butt.
“Hey! Quit being handsy, vine.”
The vine slithered back, as if it understood me.
Okay, that was actually even creepier.
A moment later, I stepped out into the stairwell, which continued downward. Aerdeca and Mordaca waited for us, and once Lachlan and Caro had made it through, we continued down.
The path ahead continued to glow, this time with a faint yellow light. We followed the spiral deeper, and by the time we reached it, the glow was so bright that I had to squint.
“Are they fairy lights?” Caro asked.
I squinted at them. She had a point. They looked a lot like the fairy lights that glittered in the Enchanted Forest back at the Protectorate castle.
“Lights of Truth,” Mordaca said. “Answer their question and they’ll let you through.”
Aerdeca stepped into the little lights, which zipped around her head, flying through the air like fairy lights on speed. Voices began to murmur through the stairs, a language I didn’t recognize.
How the heck was I supposed to answer questions in a language I didn’t speak? I’d opened my mouth to ask when Aerdeca disappeared, absorbed by the lights. Mordaca followed, vanishing so quickly that she was gone in the space of a few heartbeats.
“Well, crap,” Caro said. “I don’t speak light.”
“Aye, not fluent myself,” Lachlan said.
“Me neither.” I frowned, then stepped forward, hoping for the best.
Immediately, warmth surrounded me. The lights flitted closer, brushing my skin and leaving behind a trail of heat. The voices began to murmur in my ears, unrecognizable at first.
Then something in them coalesced. A common thread of sound that began to form words.
Do you have the permission of Aerdeca and Mordaca to enter their sacred space?
“Um, yes?” I said. “They led us here, so I figure that counts.”
Do you mean harm?
I thought about it. “To some, yes.” I’d kill the Fates without hesitation. Tear their heads right off. “But not to Mordaca and Aerdeca.”
The lights seemed to like that answer, because they buzzed excitedly then pushed me through. Heat flared against my back wherever they touched me, and soon, I was in the spiral stairwell with Aerdeca and Mordaca.
Aerdeca looked at Mordaca. “See, I knew she was legit.”
“Totally not an asshat.”
A laugh almost burst out of me at the sound of the ever-so-elegant Aerdeca using the word asshat. “I have my moments.”
Caro appeared behind me, the lights ejecting her from their domain. She grinned. “Cool security system.”
Lachlan followed a moment later.
“Three out of three ain’t bad,” Mordaca said.
“I should hope they’d all make it through,” Aerdeca said. “Else we’d have made a serious error in judgement.”
“We would never.” Mordaca sounded aghast.
I chuckled.
They led us down the spiral staircase, moving quickly in the dim light.
“We’re nearly there,” Aerdeca said. “No more security.”
When we reached an underground chamber at the base of the stairs, the scent of water was even stronger. I exited the stairwell and spotted a pool of pale blue water in the middle of the dark space. It was about twenty feet across and looked like it’d been carved from the dirt thousands of years ago. The glow from the water lit up the space as it glittered invitingly, and a wave of magic rolled off of it.
I gasped at the feeling it emitted. “That’s strong magic. No wonder you choose to live in Darklane.”
“Well, we also like the culture.” Mordaca’s expression was deadpan. “But it took us ages to find this well of power. They’re very rare. This is the only one in Oregon.”
“And conveniently, it’s located right in Magic’s Bend,” Aerdeca said.
“It may be one of the reasons Magic’s Bend was founded here, actually,” Mordaca said. “We bought the place from an old witch who wanted to retire to Florida and play canasta.”
“Canasta?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Aerdeca shrugged elegantly. “Some kind of game. Old witches love it. Anyhow, we signed a document promising we’d reveal its existence only when necessary, and only to those we trust. You passed the test, so evidently, we were right to trust you.”
“We conduct our most difficult magic down here.” Mordaca nodded toward Caro’s hand. “And that is some difficult magic.�
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Caro raised her hand and glared at it. “I just want it off me.”
“I can’t say that I blame you.” Aerdeca gestured us forward. “Come, step into the water.”
Caro obeyed, and I followed, wanting a better look.
Aerdeca held up her hand. “Only Caro. It’s too dangerous for you to touch the water while we conduct our spell. Only those who must stand within it should do so.”
I stopped in my tracks, a few feet from the edge of the glittering pond. This close, the magic was even stronger, a powerful signature that felt like waves crashing over me. It reminded me of Arach, the dragon spirit who lived at the Protectorate castle.
Lachlan came to stand next to me as Caro stepped into the water, joining Aerdeca and Mordaca, who stood submerged up to their knees. Mordaca’s black dress floated around her, rippling gently.
I tried not to make a peep as the Blood Sorceresses began to work. They stood in front of Caro, who watched with wide eyes as they pulled vials from their pockets and poured them into a little bowl that they’d brought. Aerdeca bent to scoop some water into the bowl, and whatever was within it began to smoke profusely. The little plumes that wafted off the surface were the deep red of blood.
As the final touch, each sorceress poked her finger with a fingernail and added a single drop of real blood to the mix. The smoke turned orange, then ceased completely.
“This might sting a bit,” Aerdeca said.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s a wimp.” Mordaca grinned.
Aerdeca’s elbow twitched, and she clearly wanted to jab it into her sister’s side, but she held the bowl of potion. She glanced at it, then resisted the urge. “You’re lucky I don’t want to spill.” Her gaze met Caro’s. “We’re going to paint runes on your skin with this. If it works as planned, it will reveal who created the spell that is imbued in that tattoo. With any luck, we’ll be able to remove it.”
Caro nodded, seeming both stalwart and anxious, which was a difficult combo to pull off.
Aerdeca’s gaze became serious. “Whatever happens, do not go any deeper into the water.”
She didn’t elaborate, but she didn’t need to. Her tone made it obvious something would happen.