Nocturnal Magic (Demons of Fire and Night Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  The darkness threatened to pull her under, and for just a moment, she saw a flash of Bael, holding the knife to her chest.

  Stay grounded, Ursula. She sucked in a breath, feeling the damp earth beneath her knees and hands. The air felt thick and warm again. She opened her eyes, her gaze landing on Bael. He still stood before the oneiroi, completely unperturbed, as if a massive blast of magic hadn’t just ripped through the mushroom forest.

  Thick shadows coalesced around her, and magic simmered in her chest. The blast had completely recharged her body.

  “Did the necromancy work?” asked Bael.

  “I don’t know,” said a hooded oneiroi. “It hasn’t moved.”

  She shifted position, trying to get a glimpse of what they were looking at. They seemed to be staring down at something in the center of the circle, but she couldn’t tell what.

  “Again,” said Bael. “We must chant the channeling spell once more.” He pulled his hood over his head, chanting again in Angelic. Shadow magic flickered over Ursula’s skin.

  Did he say necromancy? What the hell is he up to?

  She needed a better vantage point. Her gaze flicked to a short mushroom about fifteen feet away. If she could get to the top of the mushroom, she’d have a clear view. Good thing I’m charged up with magic, now. She could shadow run there without a problem.

  She stared at the mushroom’s cap, then let her body fill with shadow magic. She flitted through the air, reappearing on the mushroom’s cap. For a moment, she began to slide, then she dug her fingers into the mushroom’s flesh, its luminescent juices staining her hands.

  She glanced up at Bael and the oneiroi, and her mouth went dry. They surrounded a prostrate form. Long and lean, he lay stretched out on the ground, his skin gray as a corpse. Had they killed him?

  As Bael and the oneiroi chanted, the creature lay still as a grave. A chill of shadow magic raised goosebumps on her arms. Any second now, they were going to blast the air with magic again.

  She crawled to the edge of the cap, then let herself drop down to the soft earth. She hurried behind a stalk, just managing to find cover when a second blast rocked the forest. Shadow magic blasted through her bones, and she fell to the ground. Ice seized heart, and the void spread through her veins like poison.

  It called to her. Accept the darkness.

  So easy to fall into the void...

  Her fists tightened, and a fire roared in the hollows of her mind, a room in flames. The scent of burning flesh, agonized screams piercing the air. The best way to fight ice is with fire.

  The ice in her chest thawed, and she crawled to her knees. She felt the warm dirt beneath her hands, pressing into her knees. I’m here, she told herself.

  She glanced up at the strange coven. In the center of the circle, the corpse now stood.

  “What are you?” said Bael.

  “You know me as the Gray Ghost,” it said in a hollow voice.

  Chapter 41

  Something slithered in the corner of Ursula’s vision. A shudder crawled up her spine, and she slowly turned. One of the enormous caterpillars was descending the trunk of mushroom just above her head. Thick as an anaconda, with a head the size of a bowling ball, its mandibles snapped audibly. Fear slithered over her skin.

  Bael’s voice rumbled through the forest. “Did you hear something?” He sniffed the air. “I smell something, too.”

  Ursula’s stomach clenched. He can’t smell me?

  “I’ll go check,” said one of the oneiroi.

  Fuck. They’re coming right for me.

  She pressed her back to the stalk, trying to avoid being spotted. Unfortunately, she was now trapped between the giant caterpillar and the approaching oneiroi. Adrenaline burned through her veins.

  Frantically, she looked around. A smaller mushroom stood a dozen yards away—further than she’d ever shadow run.

  She couldn’t see the cap, but she needed to find a way to get there before the sodding caterpillar ripped its fangs into her head.

  Swallowing hard, she envisioned the top of the mushroom cap. Shadow magic rushed through her bones, carrying her through the air. An instant later, she smacked into the top of mushroom. Even with the relatively forgiving softness of the mushroom’s surface, the landing took the wind out of her.

  She dug her fingers into its flesh with her nails.

  Still, from here, the oneiroi—or Bael—would be able to spot her if they looked up. She needed to get to the canopy’s next level.

  She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the mushroom caps that towered over her. In the next instant, her body whispered through the air, and the shadows slammed her onto another mushroom top. She dug in her fingers, anchoring herself to the mushroom.

  Below her, she could hear the oneiroi mutter to himself, “I could have told him it was just a caterpillar.”

  Clinging to the mushroom, Ursula lay perfectly still, listening to footsteps moving closer to her. A cold sweat beaded on her skin. She inched forward, spying the tops of the men’s heads. The Gray Ghost walked by Bael’s side, his hands cuffed behind his back.

  She waited until the footsteps faded before dropping down the lower mushroom, then sliding off to the damp ground.

  Her jaw ached from where she’d smacked into the mushroom’s flesh, but the caterpillar at least appeared to have retreated. As quietly as she could, she followed the path back to Bael’s manor. The last of his oneiroi disappear into his storage space.

  What were her options? She could wait, then try to sneak back when they’d all climbed up the ladder.

  But in all likelihood, they’d be mulling around his cavern, blocking her exit. In fact, they could be mulling around the old storage space. The Gray Ghost’s hands were secured behind his back—he was unlikely to climb anywhere.

  Right now, the oneiroi were probably guarding him by the old furniture and compasses.

  A lump rose in her throat. In the brilliant/moron stakes, the needle is swinging wildly toward fuckwit.

  She’d just have to find another way out—one that didn’t involve revealing herself to Bael. She turned, walking in the opposite direction from the way she’d come. The forest had succumbed to an eerie silence, and a chill spread through the air. She hugged herself.

  As she drew closer to the clearing where Bael’s coven had conducted the spell, the soil crunched below her feet—frozen solid from the stunning blast of Bael’s shadow magic. She had no idea how Bael and the oneiroi had remained standing for that, when the blast had nearly ripped her skin off.

  She peered into the clearing. Where the coven had stood, nothing covered the soil but a layer of ice.

  She turned back to the bath, walking on, her teeth chattering. Honestly, she had no idea if this direction led to a way out, but it was worth a shot.

  The air grew warmer as she moved away from the clearing, following the path deeper into the mushroom forest.

  Along the path’s edges, the mushroom stalks clustered. The path twisted and wound like a serpent between them. Up ahead, she caught a glimpse of a slithering movement, and goosebumps rose on her skin. She drew Cera’s blade from her belt.

  In this part of the forest, the mushrooms towered as high as sequoias, and just above their enormous caps, she could hear the echoing shouts of the bats.

  Her skin grew cold as she took in the landscape. Here, among the larger mushrooms, the caterpillars were everywhere. A giant insect slithered over every stalk, crunching through fungal flesh.

  A scream pierced the silence, and she whirled to find two caterpillars fighting over the carcass of a third.

  Her skin crawled, and her fingers tightened around the blade. Isn’t that charming?

  Her throat went dry, and she hurried further along the path. But instead of continuing on through the forest, the path ended abruptly with the edge of a cliff.

  She gasped. Spread out below her, a second mushroom forest extended into the distance. Hundreds of feet below, mushroom gaps glowed—sea-green, periwinkle, a
nd cornflower blue. Stunningly beautiful, like the surface of a luminescent sea.

  A grunting noise behind her made her turn her head. Two caterpillars crawled toward her, saliva dripping from their mandibles.

  Her heart sped up. Okay. Now, I’m trapped between giant flesh-hungry insects and a cliff.

  A third caterpillar inched down a mushroom stalk to her right, and a fourth flanked her from the left. Her throat tightened. I’m definitely a fuckwit. Good to know. They closed in on her, and she clenched her fingers on the hilt of the obsidian blade.

  On the path, one of the caterpillars reared up before her, like a snake ready to strike its prey. Her blood roaring, Ursula slashed at the caterpillar’s body. Cera’s blade sliced deeply into its flesh.

  The caterpillar fell back with a shriek. The other insects stared at it, as if in horror. Then they lunged for it, tearing into its flesh.

  She loosed a breath. Better him than me.

  She scanned the horizon, searching for a place she could shadow run. But the entire path now crawled with caterpillars, a sea of writhing fur. Running was not an option. As soon as they were done feasting on their fallen comrade, they’d come for her. She slashed at another insect, cutting into the flesh below its head. Shrieking, it writhed on the ground. She kicked it backward, toward the oncoming crowd of hungry predators.

  Like sharks scenting blood, the caterpillars descended on it ravenously. How long can I keep this up? She gasped for breath. Her muscles burned. Something brushed her foot and she looked down to see a caterpillar only inches from her. Instinctively she kicked it over the edge of the cliff. The creature cartwheeled down in a whirl of fur, bouncing off the sides before splattering on a mushroom cap.

  If she didn’t find a way out of here, she’d be joining the caterpillar corpse on that mushroom cap, her guts splattered over the lower forest.

  The sound of bats shrieking echoed off the walls, and a spark of hope lit in her chest. Is there a chance that Sotz is out there somewhere?

  She whistled sharply, just as a caterpillar lunged for her. She dove to the side, dodging its attack, and her face smacked hard into a rock. Pain shot through her skull. Still, it had worked. The caterpillar’s momentum carried it over the side of the cliff.

  Around her, the other caterpillars edged closer, ready to finish her off. Panic ripped her mind apart. How the fuck do I get out of this?

  She gripped the knife, pointing it at the giant larvae. “Back off, you furry fuck-maggots!” she bellowed.

  Instantly, the larvae stilled their movements.

  She frowned. Why the hell did that work?

  Behind her, the distant flapping of wings beat the air, and relief washed through her. Sotz.

  The caterpillars weren’t scared of her, but apparently, they were scared of bats. She glanced behind her, thrilling at the sight of Sotz’s dark shape descending. She whistled again. Hurry.

  With nowhere to land, he flew along the edge of the cliff. As he passed under her, she jumped.

  Chapter 42

  She clung to Sotz, breathing in the familiar smell of his fur, feeling the comforting beating of his heart. She sucked in a shaky breath, her legs trembling. She’d survived, by the skin of her teeth.

  All around them, bats shrieked, their voices echoing off the walls. Still, a sense of calm warmed her body. If she could survive an attack by a legion of caterpillars, maybe she had a chance against Bournajoux.

  She leaned down, whispering, “Take me home.”

  Sotz soared through the darkness. As the light dimmed, the cacophony of the rookery dampened. After a few minutes of peaceful darkness, they burst into the light of the crater. Asta’s now-familiar spire towered over the ground—an oddly welcome sight at this point.

  Sotz curved in a slow arc toward the manor.

  Ursula took a deep breath, reveling in the clean air, the feel of the wind and the milky sunlight on her skin. She belonged in the air—not buried in a dark tunnel.

  Sotz swooped low toward the manor’s roof, then landed gracefully on its slick surface. Ursula caught her breath, her heart still pounding hard.

  “Thank you for coming for me, big guy.” She rose, her muscles aching. Not super bright to get into a fight before my actual fight, but too late to fix it now.

  For a moment, Sotz brushed against her leg like a cat, then launched himself off the roof.

  As she walked to the lift, she touched her heart, feeling it pounding hard through her shirt. She stepped into the lift, and a stiff lunar breeze rushed over her skin.

  The elevator slowly creaked down, past one shattered floor after another, and she wrapped her fingers around the metal bars. She still had no clue what Bael had been doing with the oneiroi. She had no idea he interacted with them at all. How exactly had he ended up with the Gray Ghost in a mushroom forest?

  As the lift lowered into the atrium, she glanced at the door to Bael’s chambers. She’d left it open, but someone had since closed it. She glanced around furtively, taking care that no one caught her sneaking back into her quarters.

  She hurried over the bridge into her living room, then made a beeline for the bath. Blood, mushroom juice, caterpillar fluid, and mud coated every inch of her body, and she stank like the bottom of a grave. She glanced at herself in the mirror. A deep purple bruise had bloomed just below her eye.

  As she filled the bath with warm water, she ripped off her clothes. She shoved them under the bathroom sink. I’ll find a better hiding place later.

  She stepped into the bath, relishing the feel of the warm water against her burning muscles. She lowered herself down, letting the water soothe away the aches in her thighs. Still, her face throbbed where she’d smacked it against the rock.

  She dunked her hair under the water, then rose again, reveling in the warmth of the bath. It was nearly time for her real battle—the battle against Bernajoux, and whoever else. And she’d need to be clean and rested for the fight.

  She grabbed the lavender-scented soap, rubbing it over her skin and working up a frothy lather before washing her hair. When she’d finished soaping up, she dunked under the water again, rinsing off the suds.

  From the living room, a heavy pounding punctuated the silence. Her heart sped up. Definitely Bael’s knock.

  As she stepped from the bath, water dripping from her skin, he knocked louder. And he seems a little cranky.

  He continued to pound on her door, and she yanked a towel off the rack, quickly drying off.

  Bael slammed his fist into the door. “Ursula!”

  Fucking hell. She wrapped the towel around herself.

  “I need to speak to you.” His voice boomed through the door, an edge to it that made her spine stiffen.

  Why do I have the feeling he knows what I did? “Coming!”

  She pulled open the door to find Bael standing in the doorway, his hands clamped tightly on either side of the door frame.

  He gazed down at her, a cold fury flashed in his eyes. “Where have you been?”

  Ursula’s mind raced. How much did he suspect? She could lie completely and say she’d been in her flat all evening, but he must know something.

  “I took Sotz for a ride.” The best lies always have a hint of truth.

  “Did you open the door to my quarters?”

  Once you start a lie you cannot budge. “No.”

  His gaze trailed over her bare shoulders. “I smelled you.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “What? I don’t smell that strongly. And anyway, I wasn’t anywhere near you.”

  Bael studied her for a long moment, then his fingers lifted to her face, cupping her chin. “What happened?”

  Ursula brushed her fingertips over her cheek. “I hit a moth when I was flying.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before grazing his fingertips over the bruise. A rush of shadow magic kissed her cheek, soothing the dull pain below her skin.

  He dropped his hand. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  A million dirty jokes
raced through her mind, but she didn’t think Bael would react well to them. Instead, she mutely shook her head.

  “I believe someone broke into my quarters.”

  She bit her lip. “That’s terrible,” she blustered. “Do you think whoever it was is a threat?”

  His icy gaze rooted her in place. “No. But when I find the intruder, I will deliver a painful death.”

  As Bael turned to leave, ice shot through Ursula’s veins.

  Absolute, complete fuckwit.

  Chapter 43

  Ursula woke on the sofa in her silky nightgown, tangled in the soft blanket. She rose, stretching her arms above her head, and glanced at the clock. She could hardly make sense of the damn thing, but she was pretty sure she only had twelve hours left before the duel began. Her stomach fluttered.

  Despite the soothing bath she’d taken after her adventure, her legs still felt like dead weights. The shadow running had sucked the life out of her.

  Bael’s anger still roiled in her mind. She’d gone from the promise of a swift death to the threat of a painful one, having learned nothing at all from her intrusion into her quarters.

  A knock sounded at the door—softer this time. Cera.

  Barefoot, she padded downstairs and pulled open the door. Cera stood in the doorway holding a silver tray, a bag draped over her arm. “Lunch?”

  Ursula nodded. “Is it lunchtime already? I’ve nearly lost the ability to keep track of time, since the sun never sets.”

  “Mushroom sandwiches.” Cera bustled into the room, heading for the bar. She dropped the bag on the floor. “I let you sleep in. Bael told me you had a late night.”

  Ursula’s stomach rumbled audibly. Even mushroom sandwiches sounded good. “Thank you, Cera.”

  “The lord said you hurt yourself flying, but I see he healed you.”