Twisted Legends: Twisted Magic Book 4

by Kaye, Rainy

  “Care to make a guess? Throw me something,” I said. “Anything.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible,” he said.

  Tires crunched in the carport. I turned to see Lucy’s motorhome pull in, headlights lighting up the backyard.

  From behind the steering wheel, she signaled to me.

  I waved her off and turned back to the mage. “Is that your real name on the portrait?”

  “Yuto,” he said with a nod.

  I regretted my question immediately. Now he was a person.

  How was I going to shove him back into an eternal prison?

  “Who let you out?” I asked. “Did you see anything at all?”

  “No, nothing. Inside the picture, it’s…a different realm, I suppose. A pocket, we call them. I didn’t see this world at all until the seal broke and I crossed through into a man’s house. It was full of strange new things, and it took me some time to orientate myself, to realize so much time must have passed. I didn’t recognize anything. A woman started screaming at me, so in my confusion, I ran away and hid to try to sort out what to do. My magic manifested as it always had.” He pressed his lips into a line for a long moment, eyes averted. “I’ll go back in.”

  I took a small surprised step backwards. “You’re just going to go back…without a fight?”

  “What’s there to fight? Look at the mess I created.” He gestured around, at the party, at the spot where the house had been, at the street beyond where monsters crept. “I never wanted this.”

  “I guess we have opposite problems,” I said with a bitter chuckle. “You have too much magic to harness, and I don’t have enough.”

  That might not have been entirely true, but if I couldn’t control my magic, it hardly counted.

  “You’re a witch,” he concluded. A small smile crept on his lips. “Show me what you can do.”

  I glanced around at the partygoers.

  “Never mind them,” he said with a wave of his hand. “They’re so enchanted, they’ll wake up from all this with no solid recollection. It’s a small mercy.”

  I hesitated, then sucked up a little magic from the ground, letting it thrum through me. I channeled it into both hands, until the faint glow built.

  “From here, I can usually like, warm a cup of coffee or burn down a house,” I said. “There’s very little in between.”

  He stared at my hands, as if contemplating, then he looked up at my face.

  “I know one. His knife.” He nodded toward Randall. “Enchant it.”

  I went out like a snuffed candle. “Come again?”

  “It’s a good one, useful,” he said. “Forge your fire magic with the blade.”

  “Oh, I can’t do anything like that,” I said. I scratched the back of my head. “My tricks aren’t that good.”

  He stood, and I stumbled back out of his way. Even though he was no taller than me, his presence loomed with a magnitude that commanded respect.

  In that moment, I had not even an ounce of doubt that he was among the seven most powerful mages to roam the earth.

  Before I could react, he stuck out his hand toward Randall. The knife unsheathed, flinging into Yuto’s hand.

  Sasmita stepped forward, roaring blue and ready to go wild.

  I put up my hand behind me to halt her. She held back but kept her magic at the surface.

  The mage flipped the knife around to point the handle at me.

  “Try it,” he said easily.

  I hesitated, and then took the hilt.

  “I don’t think I can do anything with it,” I said, barely audible.

  “If you can walk in here and slap a six-hundred-year-old magician deemed one of the most powerful and destructive in the world, you can do this.” He smiled down at me, his eyes kind. “I assure you, dear.”

  Warmth welled in me, and it wasn’t magic. I couldn’t say for sure what it was, but I felt…different. Stronger. Powerful.

  Gripping the handle of the knife in front of me, I closed my eyes. I tuned out the world and focused on summoning up my magic. It came from the earth, deep down inside it, from its very core, and rushed with heat up my body. I willed it down my arm, into my hand. It seared my fingers, and I knew my hands must be glowing blue, or maybe yellow, now.

  I didn’t know what to do from here.

  I started to give up, but he had said to forge the magic and metal together. I had never merged anything with magic; I always sort of pulled and then let loose.

  Without any idea of what I was actually doing, I focused on pushing my magic into the blade.

  Heat washed over me.

  I snapped my eyes open, afraid to see what disaster I had caused.

  Instead, the blade of the knife danced with shimmering, beautiful, deadly flames.

  “What the hell?” I said to no one in particular, my voice soft. “How is that even possible?”

  “Because you’re a mage,” he said simply on the other side of the flames. The light reflected in his eyes. “Or a witch. Whatever you’d like to call it. I could tell you a hundred tricks a day for a hundred years, but it wouldn’t matter because you already know them. You just have to forge them.”

  As if inspired by his talk, I leaned forward and gently blew on the flames. They extinguished, and I knew it wasn’t from my breath alone.

  Most of my life, I had used magic with my hands, and not very well, at that. When I had been stranded barefoot in the snow in Haven Rock, I had managed to shift the warmth from my hands to my feet to keep from getting frostbite. Now, I could even exhale magic.

  One hundred tricks a day for one hundred years.

  I had never felt more humbled and more powerful at the same time.

  I met his gaze, breathless. “Why can’t you control your magic?”

  “I don’t know.” His posture shrunk a little. “I tried, so many times. I had all the reasons to, but it just never happened. Not before they caught me and…”

  My heart seized and then shattered. I was going to have to put him back, too. If I didn’t, his magic would continue to spin the town out of control and spread. It had already reached the café in Colorado. The fork wouldn’t have gotten up without a trickle of his magical interference. Now that I stood to here, I realized the VW Bus probably hadn’t had a driver, either.

  This was significantly worse than the situations we had encountered so far. Those, their magic had appeared to be isolated, even if only for the time being. His influence had already crossed state lines.

  What kind of hypocrite did that choice make though? Sure, I wasn’t destructive, but my magic had been flawed my entire life too. Did he not deserve a chance to learn? Wasn’t there a better option than sentencing him to an eternal otherworld?

  As if reading my mind, he said, “I’ll go. I know it’s my fate. It was made very clear to me the day they imprisoned me. Wrong is wrong, even if I meant right.” He straightened. “So, I’ll go, but I have one request first. You don’t owe me anything, but it would do my heart a lot of good if you would at least tell me a lie.”

  I nodded.

  “I can do that,” I said, then added with a small grin, “I can lie.”

  “My imprisonment broke the heart of my one and only,” he said. “I remember her tears and cries even now, and they haunted me in my prison. If you could just send my word to her, tell her that I have not forgotten her, but that it’s for the best. That we both know the world could not withstand my magic for longer. That she can put aside her greatest fear that beyond the painting was a tangible hell, to let her know everything is fine, and will remain so. If you promise you will tell her this, then I will go into the picture without so much as a sigh and you may seal me back in for eternity.”

  I turned then, suddenly remembering everyone and everything around me. Lucy was still in the driver seat, hunched over and squinting toward us, as if waiting for her cue. Randall and Sasmita remained near me, ready to strike the mage.

  Yuto.

  Fiona hung back as
if she did not belong to this world anymore. Maybe she didn’t.

  “You lived more than five hundred years ago,” Randall said, evenly. “I don’t think…”

  “Oh, she’s alive,” Yuto replied. “We both had our blessings and curses.”

  I nodded along like I understood a word he was saying—which I didn’t.

  “Sure,” I said, unable to find a better answer. “Tell us where to find her, and we’ll send your regards. I’ll even pick up some flowers and chocolates, if you’d like.”

  “The message will convey more than any material gifts ever could. She was a beautiful soul. Her hair glistened in the sun, ethereal, same as she moved, as she trained. Every time she laughed, every time she smiled—every time she looked at me with the gaze that made me feel whole and challenged to be more—I knew I had done a disservice to her by reciprocating her love. My fate was never going to be anything other than how it ended. I kept hope, but when I wanted to resign, she continued to believe and I let myself be convinced too. My tenaciousness broke the most beautiful woman.” He blinked back from a far off memory and added, “You wanted to know why I came through the portrait when the seal faded. I believe I have been given one chance to ease her pain. If I can do that, then I need nothing more.”

  I lifted my hand, palm side up, uncertain what to do with what he had just laid on me.

  With a sigh, he relaxed back into the folding chair, but he took it as if it were a throne.

  “I don’t know precisely where she is these days,” he said, “but I imagine far from the members of the quorum. I can give you her name, and perhaps one day, you can find her. Or tell me you will, at least.”

  “I’ll find her,” I said, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. “What is her name?”

  “My beautiful, exquisite Otilia Rose.”

  The world tipped sideways.

  The woman who lived next door to me in Green River. The woman who had baked muffins for me and fawned over Randall?

  That Otilia Rose?

  “Uh. Are you sure?” I asked, even though it was a stupid question.

  Of course he knew the name of the most beloved person in his lengthy existence.

  Sasmita looked at me with a scowl. “Safiya, what’s wrong?”

  “I know her,” I said, barely more than a whisper. “She was my neighbor.”

  “I wish I could be surprised, but my woman was always cunning and full of convenient answers—up until they imprisoned me.” Yuto squared his shoulders. “Where is the portrait? I will keep my end of the bargain, as I promised.”

  I shook my head, even though it just made me dizzier. My body alternated tingling and feeling numb.

  “No, you stay here,” I said, turning back to my comrades. I passed Randall his knife as I strode toward the motorhome. “I want answers, from both of you. We’re going to go find her—now.”

  9

  We traded with Lucy, Joseph’s van for her motorhome. I didn’t want to leave Yuto’s portrait to fate, and three pictures simply wouldn’t fit in our vehicle.

  We still had no idea where the vault could be located—our quest to contact the bounty hunter had taken a temporary back seat—so until then, we were stuck toting around centuries worth of evil. Lucy was more than happy to give up her motorhome, if that meant getting rid of the cursed painting and, at some point, the horrors that came with it.

  Randall drove, and I sat across from Fiona at the table. The portraits were propped up around the main area of the motorhome, and Sasmita inched past them as she cleaned and reorganized. Lucy had been kind enough to let us keep most of the supplies inside the motorhome, barring her personal belongings. In hindsight, I couldn’t believe we hadn’t considered swiping a travel trailer of some kind before now. It was a bit more comfortable, even if the paintings loomed around us like giant playing cards.

  The carnival mage’s eyes seemed to follow me, and I picked up the distinct impression he knew it was only a matter of time before his seal broke again. This time, he would be coming for me.

  I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away from his face and focus on Fiona, instead. Not that she was much better. Much like the souls in the portraits, she seemed to be contained with her own internal prison.

  “How about some blackjack?” I asked her, and then looked to Sasmita. “Have you found any playing cards, by chance?”

  She shook her head as she used a cloth and a spray bottle of cleaner to scrub the top of the stove.

  “What kind of camper doesn’t have cards?” I strummed my fingers on the top of the table. “We could roast marshmallows…or something.”

  Sasmita continued to detail the stove, barely acknowledging me, and then finally huffed and threw down the cloth. She turned to me, folding her arms over her chest.

  “We just left him there,” she said. “Do you know how much havoc he’s going to cause while we’re away?”

  I blinked at her. “Yuto?”

  “He’s a mage,” she said. “A bad one. Regardless of his story, he is causing a lot of problems. We should have put him back in his painting first.”

  “We need to talk to Otilia Rose,” I said. “She can tell us more.”

  “If what he is saying is even true,” Sasmita snapped. “How do you know he didn’t make it all up? We should have at least brought him with us.”’

  She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, as if restraining herself from throttling me.

  “And let him spread more mayhem?” I threw my hands up in front of me. “We’re driving halfway across ye old United States. You would be able to plot our path in the destruction left in our wake if he came with us.”

  Her hand went to the vial on the chain under her shirt. My gaze nailed on it. As if sensing I was about to prod her for answers about what she was really up to, she spun around and started scrubbing the stove again.

  It wasn’t even dirty.

  Now was probably not the time to pick a fight with her. For better or worse, we were stuck in this motorhome together for several more days.

  Besides, I liked Sasmita. I just didn’t understand what her end game was, and that made me nervous.

  “Hey, Randall,” I called toward the front of the motorhome, peeling my attention away from Sasmita. “Let me know when you need a nap, and I’ll switch off with you.”

  “I’m doing good, thanks,” he said. “We’re already in New Mexico. I was thinking about stopping for coffee and donuts as soon as we find civilization again.”

  “Donuts beat marshmallows any day,” I said, and lifted my chin to Fiona. “Want an old fashioned?”

  She tilted her head just enough to look up at me under her eyelashes. A small smile pressed her lips together, but a chill crept through me. I couldn’t suppress the shudder in time.

  Something like hurt flashed across her face, but then she was stone again.

  “His magic was spreading, anyway,” Sasmita said, apparently continuing the discussion. “It had already reached the café before we were even in Orangewood Grove.”

  I shoved myself to my feet, as if I was ready to do war with her, but I managed to keep my voice even. “Then there’s no point in helping it spread. We won’t be gone long, and when we come back, we’ll have a better idea of what to do about him.”

  She frowned down at the stove.

  “What?” I braced my palm against the table. “You think we shouldn’t even consider the idea that he doesn’t belong in the portrait?”

  She turned her head to look at me. “I think it was a stupid idea to leave him there.”

  I started to counter, but Randall cut me off.

  “Come on,” he said with all the self-control and reasonableness I was running low on. “Do any of us actually know anything? We’re all just guessing. We’re already en route to Nebraska, so let’s just see if we can find Otilia and then go from there.”

  Sasmita’s jaw tightened.

  “I just know he better still be there when we get back,” she said throu
gh gritted teeth. She threw down the cloth and stormed into the bathroom.

  The door slammed shut behind her. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard her crying. Part of me wanted to knock on the door, to ask her to give up her secrets. She wouldn’t though. She hadn’t even been remotely receptive to my prying in the past and now, if anything, she was more upset with me than usual.

  When she emerged a while later, her eyes were tired, but she continued to scrub the already clean interior.

  Hard lines etched her face. She seemed to be sinking deeper into some thought, some place, where I had never been and didn’t want to be. She wasn’t even trying to pretend everything was fine anymore.

  A tingling sensation built in my spine as I realized whatever was going on with her, whatever she was hiding, it was something terrible.

  10

  The sun had already set by the time we approached Green River.

  The skyline was wrong. I had spent my life in this town, and now as I came in, everything seemed familiar, yet distorted. Even though I knew the destruction from Eliza Brown would likely still be there, the scope of the devastation continued to surprise me.

  The dark witch may be locked away in her portrait and returned to the vault—courtesy of Joseph Stone—but her mark on the town would remain for a long time, if not forever.

  My stomach churned as we passed through rows of broken buildings and wove around chasms in the road. It was difficult to believe these were the places I used to buy groceries or get my hair cut. There was the gym I had a membership to but never used, and the local pizza place that I had ordered from more than once for late night research food.

  When Randall pulled to a stop in front of a house, it took me a moment to realize I was home.

  Memories flooded through me: sitting in my little back office, providing online coaching for clients across the nation; Randall falling asleep with his tablet, sprawled out in my living room; Fiona and I watching Bollywood movies with subtitles and doing our nails; dancing around and singing in the privacy of my bedroom when I should have been doing the dishes.