The spell wasn’t perfect. It bound them, but they seemed to use the energy from the circle to solidify themselves. The circle was engaged, working as a diaphanous prison.
Blu and Kalen’s eyes widened at this. It was supposed to hold them, and drive them out, preventing them from returning. It held them, but that was it.
It became apparent why they gave into the spell. They used the magic from it to perform their own. The smoke formed large creatures, half-human, half-animal mutations. They were bipedal, a little over seven feet tall, and had fingers that curved into blades. Their faces reminded me of a sloth’s, but that was where the similarities ended. They moved within the circle with a shifter’s swiftness, graceful and predaceous. Sparks flashed as their claws struck the magical barrier. I winced with each blow. Magically connected to the barrier, I wasn’t aware that there would be a physical one as well. The animals thrashed and clawed for dear life, trying to release themselves from their prison.
“You can do it,” Blu encouraged from behind me. But I wasn’t so sure. They continued their full-on attack on the prison. With the three of them fighting to get out, I wasn’t sure how long I could endure the assault. Fifteen minutes later, they hadn’t tired. Instead, they’d come up with a strategy. Two came in close, their claws striking repeatedly in the same spot, as the other shifted back into his wraithlike form, trying to find a vulnerability. My heart raced. We hadn’t known they would be able to take on solid form while contained by the spell—what else didn’t we know?
“If they get out, will they be able to hold that form?” I asked Kalen and Blu.
“I don’t know. We didn’t think they could take this form,” Kalen shot back in a panicked voice as the Mortem Spiritus took on their previous incorporeal form. Something had changed. Heat radiated off the barrier that divided us. At first it was just warm enough to be uncomfortable, but as the minutes crept by, there was pain. Focusing on keeping the barrier intact was becoming increasingly difficult, and I figured that was the point.
Sweat glistened on my face as they continued their heat retaliation. When that didn’t work, they added the lulling sounds again. Gentle and soothing, the mesmerizing sound was so similar to that of the Mors that Hannah had sent to kill me, I wondered if they were somehow related.
Hypnotic sounds had me swaying along with the movement of the specters, and when my eyes started to close, Blu and Gareth’s sharp, loud voices sent a jolt through me.
“This is getting harder,” I admitted in a low voice.
Gareth moved next to me, a sword in hand. Lucas, still close to Savannah, who was rousing, stood and assumed a defensive position.
“Then let them go.”
“I can’t. Not with them like that.” As quickly as they shifted to solid form and incorporeal, it couldn’t be a good idea to free them. I suspected once we let them go, they’d leave and either the Naga would send something else, or they would find a way to circumvent the spell.
“You’re not going to be able to hold it until morning, Levy,” Gareth said, worried.
“If you can hold it until morning, you should be okay,” Blu said, her voice holding the desperation I was starting to feel.
Holding it until daybreak was going to be difficult; I was worn down and it had only been two hours. They would be weakened once day broke, and the spell would cast them out and block their return, essentially nullifying the Naga’s summoning. However, I had a feeling that while I was waiting for them to weaken, they were waiting for the same thing to happen to me.
By the fourth hour, it seemed as if they’d conceded defeat, but I wasn’t falling for it and letting my guard down. My head ached: I’d experienced it all, from pounding against the barrier, extreme heat and cold, to every imaginable cognitive spell to induce me to sleep where they would be the strongest.
When one of the Mortem Spiritus took on the form of a minotaur, with a slim body and claws instead of hands, I stiffened. It breathed and a small flame ignited. If he was going to start a fire, it wouldn’t hurt anyone but them. I’d feel the heat of it but that was it. Blu and Kalen circled the enclosure, keeping a careful eye on the creature and the smoke-filled circle. I could fight creatures with forms without any problem. My sai could handle that. But this was more challenging. Anticipating their moods was useless.
Slowly, Blu moved back; eyes still fixed on the Mortem Spiritus, she grabbed the salt, tannin, and the brew she’d made and returned to her position near the circle.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, lifting my eyes to a very concerned Blu.
“Something feels different.”
Gareth, who had taken a seat, stood again, grabbing the sword. I moved back to pick up the sai, but before I could get a firm enough grip, there was a blast of wind from inside the circle, breaking a section large enough for the minotaur to get through. Blu and Kalen moved quickly to keep the circle closed and the other two in. As soon as the circle was closed, I invoked the spell again, dodging the flames the minotaur shot in my direction. Gareth slashed at the creature. His first strike caught the minotaur in the chest, the second in the stomach.
When the third strike brought the creature down, cutting him in two, I wondered if the power the Mortem had exerted to break the circle had left him too weak to take on his other form. Was this their last-ditch effort to get to Gareth and me and complete their task?
Although the minotaur wasn’t moving, Blu and Kalen formed a wider circle, enclosing him with the others. Once the spell was invoked, I stepped back and plopped onto the part of the sofa that hadn’t been torched by the minotaur.
It was easier to keep the circle’s hold when I didn’t have anyone fighting to break it. When sunlight hit, Blu said, “Now.”
I invoked another spell and unlike the other nights when the Mortem Spiritus had spiraled into dark smoke that shot out of the house, now they coiled together, becoming lighter, pulsing as they futilely fought against the exorcism. Moments later there was a screeching sound, a flash of light, and then an empty circle. They were gone. Worn from trying to break out, the creatures had disappeared.
After their departure, we waited for several minutes. The marks on our arms were still there, but they weren’t pulsing.
“Gareth, we need to go back to Menta Island,” I breathed out in a low voice as I sank into the cushions of the sofa, in need of a nap and several aspirins.
“We were banned, remember?” he pointed out.
As if I could forget. “We need to talk to her. Maybe reason with her. If we remove the mark, she’ll just do something else until we’ve been punished for our perceived default on a promise.”
“What if she can’t be reasoned with?”
“Then we’ll look at other options.” We both knew the other options were violent and bloody. I didn’t want violent and bloody. I wanted to end with dialogue, a friendly conversation, an amicable resolution.
“Please,” I said. “At least we can say we tried. Then we handle it differently.”
Gareth sighed and gave me a look. He thought I was being naïve, and maybe I was, but the Naga felt aggrieved. This was a woman, or serpent woman, or whatever the hell, scorned.
My Batman worked on getting us back to the island, while I sat on the sofa watched by Blu, Savannah, Lucas, and Kalen, all uneasy, hoping I could keep up the barrier for the rest of the night. I was going to because my life depended on it—literally. We were being paranoid, because if they could have disappeared just to reappear and do more, they would have done so hours before.
CHAPTER 26
Two days after we had averted the assassination attempt by the Mortem Spiritus we were on the same trawler boat receiving looks from the captain and crew far worse than I’d imagined. I didn’t think “you’re a dumbass” was a look someone could give, but they had perfected it.
When we departed the ship for the island, the captain repeated the same instruction he had given us during the first trip. “We stay until sunset and then we leave, with or wi
thout you.” His tone held a hint of sorrow, disbelief, and confusion, especially since we’d been evasive about the reason for our trip. I’d done it because I just didn’t want to incur any more of their looks; my pride was pretty bruised, and I suspected Gareth was embarrassed by the plan. If I hadn’t gathered that from his incredulous looks and head-shaking, I’d have certainly picked it up from him constantly asking me if I’d confirmed it would work. I had absolutely no indication it would work. It was a terrible idea—I owned—but we didn’t have a lot of options. The Naga could be just as unreasonable as Conner, but I held on to the idea that she’d wept. It hadn’t been a pride thing; it had been pain. We’d been the first people she’d extended an invitation to, and we’d rejected it. She was probably tap dancing on the line between sanity and insanity, but I hoped she was drifting a little more strongly to the former and could be reasoned with.
“You were instructed to never return,” Dorian hissed, meeting us at the shore with a cadre of nine other horse-shifters with beautiful, shimmering, sand-colored coats and cold, steely, unwelcoming demeanors. Two on each end held bows in their hands and enough arrows in their quivers to cause serious damage, the others swords. Dorian was weaponless.
Gareth’s eyes glowed, the ring around them dancing with his irritation, taking in Dorian’s signs of aggression. Stepping closer to him, I touched his back lightly with my hand.
“We would like to see the Naga,” I informed Dorian.
“You were instructed not to return,” he repeated.
I heard you the first time.
Humility wasn’t one of my strengths and showing it took great effort. Dorian’s sneer of contempt wasn’t making it any easier. Watching his cadre of man-horses advance closer, arranging their weapons, made me expend a great deal of effort not to pull out my sai and see how many equines I could take out before they could get off a shot or land a blow. Taking a slow, cleansing breath, inhaling the floral scents and crisp ocean air, I wrangled my emotions.
“We’ve come to apologize,” I admitted softly.
Eyes widened in surprise, Dorian assessed me for a long time and then directed his attention to Gareth. “You came all the way here to apologize?” he asked with obvious skepticism.
You came the same distance to poison us.
I nodded. “We owe her one. We were misunderstood, and it hurt her. I would like to rectify the situation.”
His eyes dropped to our arms. “Does your mark have anything to do with the change of heart?”
He was a shifter; lying to him was senseless. “At first, but I found a way to contain your assassins.” I smiled congenially. “As you know, they found a way around our strategy—and yet, we are still alive.” No thanks to you, jackass. “I possess strong magic and extensive resources”—I showed my wrist—“and it will only be a matter of time before we find a way to remove it. And worst-case scenario, if that doesn’t work, I could kill her. I figure if the summoner dies, the request is forfeited.” His eyes widened at my candor. “I’m not here to kill her. I’m here to apologize because I owe her one. We owe her an apology,” I said, hoping Gareth didn’t make the same sour face he had each time I’d mentioned apologizing.
The horse-shifter’s gaze slowly roved over me, then my weapons, Gareth, and the knives he had sheathed in his belt and down at his ankle. I doubted he could see the latter, but he had to suspect that there were more.
“Fine, let me escort you.” We didn’t take the same direct route; instead he took us on a different one across the small island, with a view of all it had to offer. Small shops, restaurants, and a large brown building with beige pillars with intricate decorative markings of gold and burgundy, Latin above the door. Another building sat nearly behind the others, a white dome shape. Elaborate columns enclosed it, and beautiful, lush green grass so pristine it had to be magically enhanced encircled it. Large trees bearing unfamiliar fruit were interlaced between the houses we’d missed on the first trip. Or maybe they hadn’t been there before and someone was putting on a magical show. More people watched us as we made the journey to see the Naga. With the small army of weaponized fake-centaurs behind us, it looked like we were being marched to an execution. Maybe we were.
Once we were at the shore, he nodded to us. “Godspeed.” His voice had lost its edge, becoming velvety smooth and cordial, similar to how it had been on our first visit. Even his eyes had shed their menace and were kind, glistening with sincerity. Had his mood changed because he knew it was the end, or because he knew the reason for our journey?
Chimes rang as we made our way to the island. Once again our clothes were dry within seconds of our emerging from the water. The serpent woman whipped about just a few feet away. She still hadn’t found any clothes to cover her upper body. Before her movements were gentle, rhythmic, and sinuous; now they were sharp and aggressive as her eyes moved between round human pupils and vertical slits.
“You’ve returned,” she said, snake tongue darting out of her mouth, tasting the air. Her tail shook with the same hostility as her movements.
“Stop,” I commanded firmly.
She jerked back, snapping her head as if I’d slapped her. “Stop?” she literally hissed as her split tongue darted out.
“Yes, stop. Now. We’ve come to apologize, but if you keep acting like this, we’re going to leave.” Standing at attention, she looked confused and I wasn’t sure by what: my command for her to settle down or the reason for our visit.
“Apologize?” she whispered, bouncing her body between us, her eyes totally human along with her tongue, which she changed while speaking, garbling her words.
Sensing the change in her demeanor, Gareth now seemed to be convinced it was a good idea. “Yes,” he chimed in. “We owe you one.”
“I was being polite when I told you I’d stay if it weren’t for my friend. I wasn’t truthful, and for that I’m sorry. The island is beautiful but I want to be around my friend, and we can’t stay here.”
Her eyes became sorrowful, glistening with unshed tears. If she started wailing again, there was no way we were going to make it off the island.
“Can you change to fully human?” Gareth asked.
She nodded and quickly complied. Moments later she stood before us as a simple woman—a simple naked woman, unabashed by her nudity. While I averted my eyes from her lady parts, she moved closer to us.
“We can’t stay here,” Gareth started. “But you can come with us,” he added quickly as tears welled in her eyes. She really didn’t take rejection well.
“I can’t leave,” she asserted softly. “This is my home.”
“But you want us to leave our home to be here with you,” I added, keeping my voice level, hoping she’d see the hypocrisy in her request. She looked over the island. I assumed she was taking in the blue-green ocean, the pale golden-colored sand, large fruit-bearing trees, the palm trees that feathered out to shade out the sun, and a few homes that populated the small island that looked vacant from where we stood. Farther back was a dull gray home that reminded me of an oversized bungalow.
“It’s beautiful here, but it’s not our home,” I admitted, watching realization course over her face. Her faint smile disappeared. “We’ll come back and visit, twice a year,” I promised, hoping the offering was enough to satisfy her. To right her perceived wrong and get her to remove the marks without incident. I kept a careful eye on her and the surroundings, looking for the unexpected. I still didn’t trust the island and its inhabitants.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a bracelet; topaz stones circled the band. It looked more expensive than it was. It was free for me; Kalen had given it to me as a gift for her. Her eyes flashed with excitement. Inching closer, she extended her wrist to me and was delighted when I placed the bracelet around it. Holding her arm out, she admired the gift.
“It’s mine,” I told her. “When I come back, we’ll exchange it for something else.”
Her smile broadened as she admired the offering.
“It’s as lovely as you are.”
Okay, I’ve been compared to worse.
The Naga’s eyes flitted in Gareth’s direction and held his gaze expectantly. “Your offering?” He swallowed, and I knew he had to be replaying our conversation on the way to the plane in his head when I’d urged him to bring something.
Just as he was about to tell her he didn’t have anything, I turned and started removing his watch. “This is very special to him. He offers it to you in exchange for your trust that we will return.” I placed the platinum watch in her hand, and she admired it as her interest moved between the two gifts.
“You will come back.” It wasn’t a question but a statement that she repeated with wistful bliss. A broad smile had become a permanent fixture on her face and it seemed impossible that a person with such a childlike whimsy could summon things as nefarious as the Mortem Spiritus.
After she’d clasped Gareth’s watch on her other wrist, she looked at it again. Striding even closer to us with the same ease as her snake movements, she looked pleased. She took both of us by the wrists and reminded herself that we would return. I assumed she was doing it for our edification.
“I’d like to say it won’t hurt, but I can’t.” She frowned. Her slitted serpent eyes returned, glowing lime green, and she whispered an incantation that I committed to memory, in the event that I had to use it. Magic washed over me. I wasn’t sure what Gareth felt but the pain was obvious as we clenched our teeth. It felt as if she was digging the mark out with a dull knife. For several minutes I stood before her, my body seized in pain, until she released our arms, which were now unmarked.
“I will see you later.” And with that she turned, admiring her gifts again as she assumed her serpent form and slithered away.
“That was a twenty-thousand-dollar watch you just gave her!”
I smirked. “Well, you should feel awful…not about me giving her your watch but that you’d pay such a ridiculous amount of money for a watch. Apple has a watch, you know? And it costs way less than that and does more.”
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