And she was only doing this to buy time until she could figure out a way to contact her friends. The fewer horrifying spells she taught her father in the meantime, the better.
He turned to her with a look of annoyance. “What is it?”
“This might actually be useful to you,” she said.
He shook his head. “I don’t see how.”
“Well, healing is good, right?” she asked. “Even if it requires blood. Fresh blood apparently.” She shivered.
“I know you’re inexperienced in blood magic, my child, so let me explain. If one of my warlocks gets wounded, that’s just more power for me to cast spells. Why in the hell would I waste my time healing them?”
She shrugged. “Well, you never know when it might come in handy. To start, you invert Memnoch’s Star to activate the blood, and then—”
Her father’s laughter cut her off. “I know how to harness the power of blood, thank you. We’re looking for soul magic.” He shifted the crystal, and a new set of symbols appeared. “What is this one?”
She shuddered as she read the description. For a second, she thought about lying to him, but she worried that he would react violently if he caught on.
She sighed. “Mind control.”
His eyebrows raised in interest. “Now that could be useful. Explain.”
Her mind raced, searching for a way to end this. She couldn’t let him know how to learn fucking mind control. If he knew that, she would never be free, and no one in Esper would be safe. She had to do something now while his focus was on the glowing sigils in the air. If only she could get behind him.
“This image is reversed,” she lied. “Let me get a better look from the other side.”
She moved to cross behind his back, and her father turned to face her. “What are you doing?”
She forced an annoyed expression on her face. “I’m trying to read this fucking thing from a better angle, so stop moving the image around already.”
He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “If you try anything—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I get it. Gloom and doom.”
She walked around his back before he could think too hard about what she was doing. Her father’s body remained still, but his eyes followed her the whole time. When his neck wouldn’t turn any farther, he swiveled his head around to the other side.
In that split second when he couldn’t see her, she sketched out the spell she’d been thinking about since she saw Moros and fired it off at the door to the room where her friends were being kept.
The casting had been so quick, she couldn’t be sure it had even worked. If it had, the spell would allow the sounds in the sanctum to carry through into the storage room. Everyone inside would be able to hear her conversation with her father. She just hoped Moros got the hint before the warlocks inside realized something fishy was going on.
Her father’s eyes searched her face, and she hoped he couldn’t see the jittery tension she felt inside.
“Listen,” she said loudly, praying Moros would hear the command. “We have the Whispers in hand, and it’s just the two of us in this room, so let me ask you something. How much do you really know about the Nyx?” Her father opened his mouth to speak, but she just plowed ahead. “Like Moros in there? Do you know he can break free of those manacles, easily overpower those two warlocks, and come out here to beat the ever-loving shit out of you?”
That was it. All her cards were on the table. If Moros didn’t get her message, Sephi had just warned her father about his mistake in taking the Nyx captive. A mistake he would quickly remedy if given the chance.
“What the hell are you talking about?” her father asked, anger burning his expression.
The sounds of a struggle erupted from the storage room, and her limbs trembled with fear. Either Moros had taken the hint, or the warlocks inside were executing her friends like her father had instructed them to do.
He looked at the door and then back at his daughter. “What did you just do?” Without waiting for a response, he slipped the crystal into his robes and roared out commands. “Kill those prisoners! The rest of you, get up here!”
Heavy footfalls reverberated in the stairs leading to the library. Reinforcements were about to arrive.
Her father smiled at her grimly. “As for you. I’ll make you suffer for even thinking of crossing me.”
Sephi narrowed her eyes and smirked. “Go fuck yourself.”
She turned invisible and leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the dark bolt of energy that sizzled through the air where she’d just been standing. Her father fired off more blasts at her shimmering form, forcing her to bob and weave around the room to stay alive.
Then the door to the storage room exploded outward in a spray of splinters. Moros rushed into the sanctum with her friends right behind him.
Chapter 23
Moros charged at her father. Asterion fired a stream of dark energy at the Nyx, but the magic disintegrated into nothing as it came into contact with the goatman. Her father’s spells did nothing to slow Moros down, and he lowered his horned head before slamming it into her father’s chest.
Asterion flew across the room and collided with the wall, where he crumpled to the floor. Moros advanced on the stunned man, but warlocks streamed up the stairs and formed an arc around their fallen leader, which Sephi thought ironic since he’d made it clear he wouldn’t do the same for them if they were wounded.
Then again, maybe they were acting out of self-preservation, knowing their only chance of leaving this tower alive was with their leader to protect them. She’d seen her father’s big dark balls of energy save the warlocks twice already, once from the ghosts in the Valley and once during the trial of strength.
The warlocks threw lightning and flames at Moros, but the attacks parted around him like mist. He surged into the mass of dark mages, flinging them around like rag dolls. The warlocks quickly adapted to Moros’s immunity and assaulted him with clubs and blades. These physical attacks were much more effective against the rampaging Nyx, and they forced him back.
He would need help.
While he had the dark mages’ attention, Sephi rushed to her friends’ side and dropped the invisibility illusion. “Are you all okay?”
Echo nodded. “I’m better now.”
Sephi glanced at Francisco and Magnus, who looked to be in good shape as well.
“Grab your gear,” she said, pointing at the table where their weapons were. She was pleased to see the Heretic Blade there, too, and she took it. “Asterion has the Whispers hidden in his robes. Oh, Asterion is the warlock leader with the blue face. He’s also my dad.”
“What the hell?” Echo asked, her mouth agape.
“I know,” Sephi said. “It’s been a super fucked-up afternoon. If I survive this, I’m going to curl up in a ball and cry for three days. But first, we get the Whispers from him. They look like three fist-sized crystals. We grab them and then we can get the fuck out of here.”
“Do you have a plan?” Magnus asked, grabbing his sword.
Sephi shook her head. “Do I ever?”
He snorted a laugh. It was a nice sound, one that was long overdue. “No, I guess not.”
Echo frowned as she slung her satchel over her shoulder. “If he’s your father, should we, like, be careful when we fight him?”
“Absolutely not,” Sephi said. “You kill that motherfucker if you get the chance. Trust me. He’s a real piece of shit.”
Francisco surveyed the wreckage of the sanctum with a troubled expression.
Sephi put her hand on his arm. “You all right, Brother?”
His eyes lit upon the scattered bones of Hextius Black, and a smile split his face. “I am now.”
With a quick gesture, Hextius’s skeleton sprang to life, picking up a fallen sword nearby before springing into the fray.
Magnus rushed to the skeleton’s side, slashing with his own blade. A group of warlocks split off from the main group to f
ace this new threat, giving Moros more room to maneuver. The Nyx’s tunic was torn, and blood oozed from cuts all over his body, although Sephi noticed that the wounds seemed to seal themselves up quickly.
Did the Nyx heal fast, as well as being immune to magic? Moros hadn’t said anything about that, but she couldn’t argue with what her eyes were telling her. The Nyx really were the perfect soldiers to conquer a magical army.
Before she could wonder about this any longer, a warlock slipped behind Moros, looking to attack his unprotected flank.
Sephi intercepted the dark mage and sliced his arm with her dagger. The corruption from the Black Soul engulfed the warlock, and he fell to the floor in writhing agony. A hemogoblin coalesced from the dark mage’s wounds, but the corruption burned it up, too.
Seeing what happened to their friend, the other warlocks backed away from her and Moros.
The goatman spared her a quick glance. “Thanks.”
“No, thank you,” Sephi said. “I’m glad you got my message.”
The Nyx smiled. “It wasn’t exactly subtle.”
“Heads up,” Echo called from behind her.
Sephi saw a green bottle hurtling overhead, and she grabbed Moros’s arm and yanked him back from the clustered warlocks. Echo’s Widow Maker bomb shattered against a dark mage’s face and splashed a viscous green liquid over his flesh. Outside of Tartarus, the bomb would have taken out multiple people in a wide radius, but even in its weakened state, at least it worked well enough on the one enemy.
The man clawed at his skin as the poison ivy extract kicked in, and he screamed something about giant spiders as he started hallucinating. He swung his sword in a wild arc around him, wounding some of the other warlocks in the process. His friends cut him down before the poison even had a chance to kill him.
Echo chucked another bomb, and the warlocks scattered, presumably because they now knew what her weapons were capable of. But this also painted a huge target on her back. A group of five warlocks trained their sights on her.
Sephi tapped Moros on the shoulder and gestured at the group. “Take care of them.”
He shook his horned head. “No, I’m going for the Whispers.”
Before she could argue with him, he was moving toward Asterion, who was back on his feet now. At least the Nyx could keep her father occupied. Sephi surged at the warlocks targeting Echo. She cut two down before the others turned on her, casting spells in her direction which forced her to fall back.
Magnus reared up behind them and slashed them to pieces before they ever saw him coming.
“Get to Echo,” Sephi told the Red.
He glanced in her direction and nodded before fighting his way over to her. Sephi took a second to make sure Francisco was all right. His back was to the wall beneath the dragon skull. Hextius’s skeleton kept most of his attackers at bay, but one of them slid past his undead minion and lunged at the Night Brother.
The dragon skull lurched against its moorings and chomped down on the warlock in midair, grinding him between its sharp teeth and cutting him in half. Sephi grimaced at the grisly sight, but she also felt a sense of relief. Even with his powers severely weakened, Francisco seemed to have his portion of the room well under control.
By now, Magnus had joined Echo, and the pair fell into the rhythm they’d found when fighting the tower’s guardians. They stayed back to back while dodging dark bolts of energy. Echo blasted warlocks with her wand, and Magnus took care of anyone who got too close.
As Sephi watched, Echo pulled a bottle of red liquid out of her satchel and flung it at a dark mage’s face. The glass shattered, and the warlock hunched over in pain, screaming while tearing at his eyes.
Echo grinned triumphantly. “Hot sauce, bitch!”
Knowing that her friends were safe for now, Sephi turned her attention to her father. He and a handful of warlocks had faced off against Moros. Her father lashed at the Nyx with a barbed whip, slicing open his skin with every strike. Despite his numerous wounds, Moros wasn’t backing down.
He ducked beneath a warlock’s swing and brought his head up into the warlock’s chin. The Nyx’s sharp horn impaled the man’s skull. With a wild shake of his head, Moros dislodged the dead mage and flung him to the side. The other warlocks cowered back in fear.
Asterion wasn’t so easily intimidated. “Enough!” he yelled.
His hands weaved a complex pattern in front of him, and the entire tower rumbled on its foundations. The floor beneath Moros’s feet fell away. The goatman scrambled to latch onto something, but all he found was empty air as half the floor of the sanctum crumbled away.
Sephi hopped back from the falling stone. Standing on the edge of the newly formed pit, she saw that several of the levels had given way to Asterion’s power, and Moros fell through thin air until he was lost from her sight. The Nyx had proven how tough he was time and time again, but she doubted even he could survive a fall from that height.
Her father drew himself up and shook the dust from his dark robes. “Now that this little nuisance has been dealt with, it’s time to do something about you, my treacherous little whelp. I warned you what would happen if you crossed me, and now it’s time to pay the price.”
Her father raised his hands, and Sephi prepared to evade whatever came her way. A blast of black energy arced from his hands, but it wasn’t aimed at Sephi. The lethal spear darted directly at Echo.
The Green froze in place, but Magnus dove in front of her, taking the bolt through his shoulder. He fell to the floor, clutching his shoulder. His face was twisted in pain, and he groaned in agony.
Echo gazed down at him and then at her stomach where the blast had torn right through her. She looked at Sephi with sadness and confusion in her eyes, and then she collapsed beside Magnus.
Tears clouded Sephi’s eyes, and her heart shattered into a million pieces. Time seemed to slow as she ran to her fallen friend. Despair weighed down her limbs, and she felt like she was moving through quicksand.
Sephi knelt at Echo’s side and pressed her hands to the gaping crater in her friend’s flesh to staunch the life force flowing from her body. Echo gazed up at her, her mouth opening and closing, but no words could come out.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Sephi said. “Brother, get the fuck over here! She needs a healer.”
Francisco sidled around the hole in the floor to reach her, but a black bolt seared the air in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.
Asterion laughed cruelly. “I don’t think so. No healing for her. No second chances. You’re going to watch her die in front of you so you know what happens when you disobey me.”
“Shit, Dad, let me save her,” she pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you want. You’ve proved your point.”
“Not yet I haven’t. Not until she dies.”
“You first,” she snarled, filled with a bottomless rage she’d never felt before. He had taken everything from her and crippled her with grief and guilt. Now he had attacked the only person in the world she considered family.
She sprang to her feet and gathered every shred of energy inside her to fuel her spell. When that wasn’t enough, she pulled directly from the living energy of the land.
White hot fire scorched her focal lines, but she didn’t care if she burned herself out or even if she died. Any sacrifice would be worth it to save Echo.
She unleashed the spell, and her father threw up a protective shield in front of him to deflect it. But she had taken a cue from him. Instead of being directed at him, her destructive spell sheared the outcrop of floor upon which he stood. He fell into the hole he had created, his arms and legs flailing madly as he screamed.
Casting a spell outside of her illusion skills had taken everything out of her, and her trembling knees buckled beneath her. The handful of remaining warlocks retreated down the stairs to find Asterion, leaving Sephi and her friends alone.
Francisco rushed to her side, but she shook her head. “Echo. Save Echo.”
He nodded
and laid his hands on either side of Echo’s wound. He closed his eyes and chanted the words. The gash began to close up, and Sephi sighed in relief. Then the wound opened up again.
Francisco let out a heavy breath and his shoulders sagged. “I can’t. The damage is too severe. I’m not strong enough. I’m so sorry, Echo.”
Echo looked up at him with something like forgiveness in her expression. She drew in a ragged breath and her eyes closed.
“No, Echo,” Sephi said weakly. “Stay with us.”
Echo didn’t respond.
“No,” Sephi said. “You’re not dying today. No fucking way.”
She grabbed Magnus’s sword and sliced her forearm along its edge. With the last of her strength, she forced her fingers to move, inverting the shape of Memnoch’s Star, and she felt a rush of energy surge through her veins.
“Persephone, no!” Francisco cried out, but it was too late to stop her.
The power of the blood filled her to bursting, intoxicating her, making her feel unstoppable, invincible. Her mind seemed sharper, her limbs felt stronger, and the raw magic inside her was full of limitless potential.
Why stop at saving Echo? Why not use this amazing power to take the Whispers for herself and be feared and worshiped?
Yes, embrace the power.
The Heretic’s approving whisper shook her to the core and brought her back to the present. She clamped down on his voice and on the dark ambitions swirling in her head. With intense focus, she worked the rest of the healing spell she’d learned from the Whispers and pressed her hand to Echo’s wound.
The flesh knitted itself together instantly. Echo gasped and sat up like Sephi had poured cold water on her.
“What the hell was that?” Echo asked.
Sephi shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. How do you feel?”
Echo twisted her shoulders, flexing her core. “I feel good. Kind of great actually. A little hungry, I guess.”
“Good,” Sephi said. “How about you, Magnus?”
The Lost Tower Page 20