Nocturnal Magic (Demons of Fire and Night Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  “Now,” she commanded from the throne, her voice resonating off the rock. “Teach me to move the way you do.”

  Chapter 37

  Bael stood across from her in the cavern. “I can see the magic curling off your skin. It suits you. But you won’t be able to move the way I do.”

  Her body buzzed with dark magic. She tried not to think about Bael’s hand, running up her thigh. Had he seen the blush creeping up her chest? “Why not?”

  “It takes months to learn.”

  “I want to try it anyway.”

  He sighed. “There’s no harm in trying.”

  She crossed her arms. “How long does this magical charge last, anyway?”

  “Until you use it up.”

  She cocked her head. Power charged her muscles, and she had a burning desire to use it. “So tell me. How do you move that way? If I remember from New York, you can disappear. Like smoke.”

  “Shadow running. It’s quite useful in a fight, as you could imagine.”

  “And how does it work?”

  “Once you’re charged with night magic, you can move from place to place just by thinking.” A cloud of smoke curled around Bael. He flickered out of sight, reappearing twenty feet away.

  “You just think of where you want to go?”

  “You concentrate, and the magic takes you there. But you must get a feel for shadow magic first. Let it become one with your body.”

  “I’m going to try it.”

  She closed her eyes, picturing Bael—his golden skin, the smell of his body—like Mediterranean air. The feel of his beating heart against her ribs.

  In the next moment, she was pressed against his powerful body. He looked down at her, surprise flickering across his beautiful features.

  “Sorry.” She backed away from him. “I didn’t mean to get that close.”

  His brow furrowed. “How did you do that?”

  “You told me how to do it.”

  He shook his head slowly. “No one learns it right away. Maybe F.U. learned it, but...there aren’t many lumen crystals on Earth.”

  “I want to keep practicing.”

  He drew a deep breath. “Fine. But not here. Come with me to the atrium.”

  “Why not here?”

  “Because one misstep, and you will plunge into the abyss.”

  “Good point.”

  She plucked her cloak off the floor, but with the night magic rushing through her veins, she hardly needed it. Now she understood why a demon like Bael felt invulnerable to the cold.

  She followed behind him over the narrow bridge—so like her visions of the void. But she no longer felt a strong desire to throw herself in.

  As the got to the other side of the bridge, she walked by Bael’s side, her arm brushing against his. Every time she thought of his magic skimming up her thigh, a dangerous heat burned through her body. But what did that even mean?

  She’d become dangerously aroused, and then he’d jerked away, like he was on fire. Had he realized—was he disgusted by it? The very thought of his revulsion made her want to curl up in the void and never come out again.

  You mean nothing to me, he’d said. Ursula had always been of the opinion that you should take someone at their word. Occam’s razor and all that. Plus, it was impossible to guess what another person was thinking, so all you had to rely on was their words.

  She stole a quick look at Bael, who faced straight ahead. He probably wasn’t thinking about the feel of his hand on her thigh. And neither should she, considering they were both facing death in a few days. Get it together, Ursula.

  The Black Death was parading through the city streets, and there she was, dreaming about shagging.

  The tunnel opened up in the atrium, and Bael stopped, eyeing her. “I don’t know how, but you’ve already worked out how to move. You concentrate on where you want to go and your body moves there. But you must use this power sparingly. If you shadow run, you use up your magical reserves. During the duel, you won’t have a way to recharge. You must be judicious.”

  “I understand.”

  He pointed to a spot on the mosaic floor. “Can you shadow run from where you are now to the lion’s mane?

  Ursula concentrated, feeling the shadow magic ripple through her body, rushing over her skin like a night wind. In a blur of black, she reappeared on the mane. The shattered tile bit into her bare feet.

  She folded her arms. “Easy peasy.”

  “Don’t get cocky.” He pointed to a place behind him, close to the wall. “Now try here.”

  Ursula stared at the spot, in the half of the room where the mosaic tile lay intact. She breathed in, letting the shadow magic wash through her body. As she flitted through the air, Bael reached out, letting his fingers brush over her arm.

  She leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “I felt you touch me.” She could still feel the warmth of his fingers on her forearm.

  “Yes. I wanted you to know that just because you’re shadow walking doesn’t mean you’re invulnerable. Someone with a blade could still do damage if you’re in the wrong place.”

  “Noted.”

  “One more task.” He pointed at the door of her apartment. “Shadow run to your door.”

  “That’s it?”

  Bael nodded.

  Fatigue began to burn through her body, but Ursula channeled the shadow magic once more. It rippled through her chest, energizing her body. She concentrated on the sleek black door to her quarters. But when she tried to flicker to the spot, she found herself ten feet short of her destination.

  Confused, she turned to Bael. “What happened?”

  He stepped over the shattered tile. “Another important part of our lesson. You can only shadow run for a limited distance. About ten yards.” He studied her. “How do you feel?”

  Her entire body ached as though she’d run a marathon. Her hips and thighs screamed with exhaustion. “Completely knackered.”

  “Good. That’s the final caveat—shadow magic is fatiguing. If you use it too much, you’ll be too tired to fight.”

  She wiped a hand across her brow. “I need a nap.”

  “I will have some lumen crystals brought into the atrium. If you hold them close, you should be able to absorb their shadow magic, just like you did on the onyx throne. You can practice shadow running.”

  “I take it you don’t want me to use the throne.”

  “Perhaps we should keep our distance until the duel.” Shadows seemed to gather around him, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She had an overwhelming sense that he was hiding something from her.

  “Of course,” she said.

  He turned, disappearing into his hall.

  Ursula swallowed. A wisp of the hollow void flickered in her chest.

  Chapter 38

  Ursula stood in the center of the lion mosaic, a lunem crystal in each hand. Tendrils of shadow trickled from her fingers, gathering on the floor in a black mist. Dark magic thrummed through her bones, chilling her skin. Her breath misted around her head.

  Bael was most certainly hiding something from her. Something about the way he wouldn’t look at her when they’d said goodbye made her muscles clench.

  She waved a hand through the air, watching the shadows flicker around it. I just need to make sure I’m strong enough to fight him when I need to.

  Magic pooled in her body, flooding her muscles with power and demanding to be used. She lowered the crystals to the floor, and focused on a spot across the room.

  Shadows rushed over her skin, through her gut, and her stomach flipped as she felt herself brushing the void. She reappeared ten feet away. I’ve got this. I’m a natural.

  She straightened her back, then concentrated on a place near the lion’s mane. Almost instantly, she flitted across the room in a cloud of black smoke. Wisps of magic curled around her fingers, tingling along her skin.

  Most of the raw power had seeped from her body, but some of the magic still buzzed up her spine. Let’s see what
I can do when the power is fading.

  She glanced at a spot near the onyx door, letting the shadows carry her through the air. But this time, she appeared a few feet short. Her toes throbbed as warmth returned to them. The magic was almost gone. A good reminder to conserve magic in the duels.

  Bael’s onyx door stood only a few feet away, cold and black as the void. She crossed to it, running her fingers over the smooth, cold surface. Wisps of shadows trailed from her fingers into the stone. The onyx seemed to absorb her magic, thirsty for shadow power.

  Bael had warned her away from his quarters, and that only made her more desperate to find out what he was hiding.

  Her mind churning, she turned to walk back into her own quarters. As she took a step, a scraping sound echoed off the atrium walls, and she whirled.

  The stone had rolled to the side.

  * * *

  Ursula stared at the open door. Apparently, the magic from her fingers had acted as a sort of key, unlocking Bael’s chambers.

  And of course, under no circumstances should she go inside. It would be an intrusion, and a dangerous one at that. She didn’t need to provoke Bael’s wrath before the duel.

  Then again...

  If he was hiding something from her, it was better to know what it was.

  She swallowed hard, taking a tentative step into the tunnel, but the interior was too dimly lit for her to see anything.

  Nothing moved in the tunnel, but distant voices echoed off the cavern walls. Male voices. Who did he have in his quarters? The man seemed to live in total isolation, and suddenly he was holding a party.

  She crept further down the hallway, and the darkness gave way to the purple glow of mushroom light. She hugged the walls, trying to stay in the shadows. As she walked, the voices grew louder, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

  She pressed on, her pulse speeding up. At the end of the tunnel, she hesitated. As soon as she stepped out onto the stone bridge, Bael would see her. She crouched, straining her ears. The voices grew softer, until they faded away entirely. Slowly, she rose. Silence had fallen over the cave.

  She waited another minute, then crept from the tunnel. She tiptoed over the stone bridge, cringing with each scuff of her shoe.

  As she entered his cavern, she surveyed the space: his marble table, the violet crystals, and his forbidding throne overlooking it all. Nothing out of place.

  Ursula shivered, looking at the yawning blackness of the abyss around her. Who, or what, had been talking in here—and where the hell had they gone?

  Depleted of magic after her shadow running, her muscles ached.

  Bael’s throne seemed to call to her, luring her forward with its promise of thrilling power. If she sat in it, shadow magic would flood her body, filling her limbs with strength. A part of her wanted to give in to its lure entirely. Relinquishing her humanity, letting the void take her soul, becoming one with the god of night.

  She brushed a fingers along the throne’s arm, only to pull her hand away with a jerk when the image of an endless chasm filled her mind.

  What am I thinking? An eternity of nothingness would drive her insane.

  She surveyed the platform again. I know I heard voices in here. She took a tentative step around the throne, expecting the stony floor to continue on, but she gasped as she found herself on a cliff’s edge. A deep chasm yawned behind the throne—too dark to investigate.

  She ran back into the cavern and yanked out a small, glowing mushroom that grew near the wall. She held it like a candle, and it cast a cold light over the floor.

  She crossed back to the cliff’s edge behind the throne, and held the mushroom over the side. A pair of metal pitons jutted from the stone, with thick rope wrapped around either end. The top of a rope ladder—that’s where the men had disappeared to.

  Chapter 39

  If one thing was clear at this point, it was that she should turn around and scurry back to her quarters. She could still pretend that she hadn’t snuck into Bael’s chambers uninvited, when he’d explicitly told her to stay away. We should keep our distance, he’d said.

  But she knew he was hiding something from her. She was a warrior now, and she’d do whatever it took to learn about her opponent.

  Why, exactly, was she worried about protecting his feelings and his request for privacy, when in a couple of days he’d be ramming a knife into her heart, ushering her into the void with a violent death?

  If she wanted any hope of walking out of that arena alive, she’d better learn everything she could about her greatest adversary.

  She rested the mushroom on the stone behind the throne, and it cast a dim violet light on the rope ladder until it dwindled into darkness.

  She climbed over the cliff’s side, gripping tightly to the rope. Once she had both feet firmly on the rungs, she retrieved the glowing mushroom, clinging to its stem as she slowly climbed down. With each step down, the shadows seemed to close in, darkening the mushroom’s light.

  A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. I can’t tell if I’m brilliant or a complete moron. That would all depend on the outcome of this particular excursion.

  The ladder swung as she moved, but it seemed to be anchored at the bottom. She peered down at the heavy darkness. Her pulse began to race. Was there an end to this descent?

  Her breath came faster. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. But as soon as her eyes were shut, a vision flashed in her mind: Bael piercing her chest with a dagger.

  Bollocks. The vision was becoming so clear, it felt like a premonition more than a nightmare.

  Focus on the task at hand, Ursula. She stepped down another rung. Release foot. Move free hand down a rung. Carefully unclasp the hand with the mushroom. Repeat the entire process again.

  Just when she was certain she’d be climbing for the rest of eternity, her foot brushed against a gravel floor. She tentatively released the rope, shocked to find the solid ground beneath her. Fatigue burned through her muscles, shaking her legs.

  The fungus illuminated rocky walls and a rocky room, covered in antiques. What the hell?

  At one end, the walls narrowed into a tunnel—perhaps where Bael and his friend had gone. And the rest of the space was covered in curiosities: an old ship’s clock propped on a dusty table, a stuffed raven in a cage, a horned demon’s skull in a bell jar, furniture covered in draped sheets. And propped on a wooden stand, the corkscrew she’d used to stab Bael.

  Apparently, this was Bael’s storage space.

  As she scanned the room, her gaze landed on an overturned picture frame next to the ship’s clock. When she flipped it over, her stomach swooped. Bael’s beautiful wife stared back at her, her brown eyes sad and serious.

  Ursula ran her finger over the hole in the painting. Why did he put you down here?

  She turned it over on the table again exactly where she’d found it. She could try to work out the Freudian complexities of Bael’s psyche another time. Perhaps, if she managed to survive the duel.

  Further down the tunnel, a shout echoed off the rock, and her heart began to thump. If she was going to follow the sound of the voices, she needed a weapon.

  Her pulse speeding up, she crouched, pulling out a box from below the table. She rummaged through old compasses and tools until she found the obsidian blade—the one Cera had given her. I do believe this belongs to me.

  Her feet crunched over the gravel as she crossed to the tunnel, gripping the knife in one hand and the mushroom in the other.

  As she made her way through the tunnel, the fungus glowed over runes and twisting symbols carved into the walls—the same ones she’d seen in the passage above.

  At the end of the tunnel, a pale light glowed. And as she drew nearer to the light, she pressed against the tunnel wall, hoping to remain unnoticed. Here, the air grew thick with humidity. A high-pitched squawk echoed off the walls.

  She peered around the corner. Much like the passage to Bael’s throne room, this passage also opened into a larger c
hamber. Among a sea of darkness, luminescent mushrooms lit the air. The warm air had an earthy, fungal aroma, and her skin dampened. She wiped a hand across the back of her forehead.

  This must be the rookery she had flown through with Cera on her way to the melee.

  A gravel path wound through the forest of mushrooms. She dropped her little toadstool by the entrance to the passage and followed the path.

  Chapter 40

  Up close, the mushrooms were even bigger than she’d realized—the size of elms. They glowed a faint cornflower blue.

  Her feet crunched on the gravel path that wove between them until the gravel gave way to a loamy soil. She caught a flicker of movement a hundred feet to her left—a large, furry body that slowly undulated around a mushroom stalk.

  Her stomach clenched. One of the caterpillars she had seen from Sotz’s back.

  Another giant insect slithered to her right, its green body curling up a mushroom. She stared in horrified fasciation as it tore out a chunk of fungal flesh with an enormous pair of incisors.

  But as she pressed forward, something else caught her attention—the resonant sound of Bael’s voice, chanting in Angelic. Time to hide. She slipped off the path, moving from stalk to stalk until she got a clear view of the action. She peered out from behind a mushroom, sweat dampening her clothes.

  Turned away from her, Bael stood in the center of a clearing, surrounded by mushroom stumps. He wore his black riding cloak. Around him stood a cluster of demons dressed in gray cloaks, their hoods pulled over their heads. Even without seeing their faces, she could tell by their short stature they were oneiroi.

  Bael finished his spell, and the oneiroi began to chant in another language—one she’d never heard before.

  A chill deepened around her. Whatever spell they were casting, it channeled shadow magic. The oneiroi hunched closer together, and the temperature plummeted. Their voices rose into the air, and a sharp burst of shadow magic ripped through mushrooms. A silent detonation that slammed Ursula in the chest like a fist. Hollowness pierced her, and she fell to her knees, her body shaking from the blast of power.