Grave Cargo: Arcane Transporter 1

by Jami Gray

  Struggling through the unforgiving magic, I blinked away the tiny white explosions in my vision. A shadow fell over me, making me wince, but it was only Zev. He crouched just out of reach, his hands up as if afraid to touch me. I barely managed to shake my head to keep him from making physical contact before another brutal wave of magic hit. This time, it reverberated down my spine and wrapped cruel chains around my ribs. I forced myself forward, and my palms slapped the floor—hard. My head hung down, and my world narrowed to getting air into my aching lungs. The inexorable pressure continued to batter me, and I fought my way through with each wave, determined to get past the spell and reach Lena.

  There was no sense of time passing, but it was getting harder and harder to push through. Frustration boiled under the strain, joining with the fear and worry that had been my constant companions since Lena disappeared. Anger and resentment at risking exposure of my secrets to Zev, of all people, joined the volatile mix. It all came to a violent head and smashed against the incessant spell with agonizing force. My spine arched as pain lit up every nerve ending, and a scream was locked in my throat. My vision went dark with streaks of color that bled to white. For an infinite second, it felt as if vicious claws shredded my body, one agonizing inch at a time. Then, as if a switch flipped, it was gone, leaving me a gasping heap on the floor, with tears drying on my face.

  “Dammit, Rory, can you hear me?” Zev’s voice rushed and receded.

  I didn’t want to open my eyes, because everything hurt. Everything. Even my damn hair. Cheek pressed against the floor, eyes closed, I tried to answer, but my voice didn’t work. I swallowed against my dry throat and winced. Then I tried again. This time, I managed one word. “Yes.”

  Hands brushed over my shoulder, and despite the light touch, it set off more aches and pains.

  “Stop.” That came out on a croak, but the touch disappeared. After a couple of deep breaths, the pain subsided enough to risk movement. I opened my eyes first, happy when the world stayed steady. I gingerly rolled over, and every muscle protested. At least my bones no longer felt like water. I pushed up to my hands and knees.

  Kneeling, I blinked my spotty vision clear, and Zev’s dark features swam into focus. The only thing keeping me from collapsing back to the floor was his grip on my arms as he pulled me up to my knees. “Ow.”

  “What the hell was that?” Anger and what looked like worry turned his dark gaze turbulent.

  With my balance shot to hell, I braced my palms against his chest. “What was what?” My question came out jumbled as my thick tongue stumbled over the words.

  But he translated just fine as he shifted his grip, helping me to sit. “Are you trying to kill yourself, Rory?” In contrast to his harsh question, his touch was careful. “Because strong-arming your way through a spell like that is the fastest way to a casket.”

  “We didn’t have time to screw around.” For some odd reason, I was talking to his chest. It made me feel… vulnerable, so I straightened my spine and inched back so I could see his face. “We needed inside. I got us inside.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his fingers tightened on my arms. Temper, exasperation, and something else moved through his face. “Swear to me you won’t do that again.”

  I gave him honesty. “I can’t.”

  His face darkened. “You won’t.”

  I held his gaze and bit my lip because it wasn’t a promise I could make. He muttered a foul word under his breath and looked away. Before I even understood why, I reached up, cupped his jaw, and brought his attention back to me. I gave him the only explanation I could, and one I knew he would understand. “Lena’s family. My family.”

  “Fine.” It was reluctantly given, but I would take it. Zev’s grip shifted. “If I let you go, you going to collapse?”

  “Nope, I’m good.” And to make sure, I braced my hands against the floor and finally looked around. Unfortunately, Zev was blocking my view. I leaned to look around him and gasped. “Lena!” I scrambled to my feet and lunged forward. I didn’t get far.

  Zev’s arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me up short, hauling me against him as we both faced Lena. “Hold up, Rory!”

  “Let me go, dammit.” I tried to pry my way out of his arms, barely noting the bloody scratches I left along his forearms. Just beyond Zev, Lena was slumped in a chair that sat in the middle of a complex ring of sigils and runes. I couldn’t tell if she was breathing, and what little of her I could see didn’t look good.

  He tightened his hold and growled, “Dammit. Calm down!”

  I forced my body to still and curled my fingers into his arm. “What’s wrong with her?”

  His answer came out harsh. “She’s trapped in a Drainer’s Circle.”

  Shock sent a chill arrowing into my soul, and my voice shook. “Can you get her out?”

  A Drainer’s Circle, according to urban legends, was a corrupted spell supposedly created by the twisted minds of the Cabal who’d mixed science and magic with disastrous results. It was designed to slowly drain a mage of their power, but it didn’t stop there. When there was no more magic to draw on, the spell would shift focus and attach to the unprotected mage’s soul, snuffing it out piece by piece until only a soulless wraith remained. Or so the whispers claimed.

  The muscles in Zev’s arm flexed under my hands. “It depends on you,” he muttered darkly, his arm at my waist tightening before falling away. Before I could shift back, he caught my arm and turned me from Lena.

  “Me?” It came out in an undignified squeak.

  He studied me, his thoughts hidden. “There are two ways to break this spell. One is to unravel it.” His gaze flickered to Lena and came back to me, a grim darkness swirling in the depths, and he finished with brutal honesty. “Which, considering the state of your friend, I don’t think we have time to do.”

  When he didn’t continue, I nudged, “The other?”

  The cords along his neck tightened, and his jaw flexed. He pinned me with a piercing intensity, and his harsh words carried unspoken implications. “We do exactly whatever it was you did with the occlusion spell—we overpower it.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, we,” he shot back. “A spell of this level requires more than one mage to break.”

  “Spellwork isn’t my thing, Zev.” My pulse raced, and a clammy sweat coated my spine.

  His lips curved, but it wasn’t with amusement. “Then it’s a damn good thing you have me, isn’t it?”

  Trusting him with Lena’s life left me sick with fear and worry, but I swallowed my panic. “Swear to me you can do this.”

  His answer was immediate. “We can do this.”

  If he was lying, he was damn good at it. But for Lena’s sake, I would take him at his word. “All right, what do you need from me?”

  He studied me for a second then asked carefully, “Your magic, is it Elemental or Mystic in nature?”

  It was a deceptively simple question, one not normally asked in polite company. But this was far from polite company, and my answer was far from simple. With the clock ticking on Lena’s wellbeing, I shoved aside my paranoia and answered, “Mystic. Navigators are Mystic.” It wasn’t a lie, because the abilities that made me a Transporter originated in the psychic realm, just like those of a Prism.

  “Good.” He stepped around me to crouch next to the circle. “That’ll make this a hell of a lot simpler.”

  “How so?” Uncertain, I stood there watching him.

  “Combining sympathetic magic is easier, and we need easy where we can get it.” He touched his fingers to a sigil etched on the tile floor. Magic rushed over my raw nerves, and I bit back a groan as the miserable sensation reawakened echoes from my earlier ordeal. The blue fire I was beginning to associate with Zev crawled over the floor, sliding into curves and lines, illuminating the complex collection of sigils and runes etched around Lena. Instead of stopping once the circle was complete, the blue fire doubled back, leaving a secondary layer of symbols and lines hove
ring inches above the first. The magical ropes radiating from the circle to Lena and locking her in magical chains left a sickening sense of dread in its wake.

  A low curse erupted from Zev. “Whoever set this wasn’t fucking around,” he all but growled. “See this?” He pointed to the second layer that appeared to be a mess of knots. “It’s a secondary spell set to act like a magical dead man’s switch.”

  I mimicked Zev’s crouch. Magical theory wasn’t my strong suit, but I knew enough for the basics of a dead man’s switch. I tried to unravel the sigils and runes into something familiar. “Is that a death curse?”

  “A modified version of one, yeah. This pattern here”—he gestured to a set of runes interspersed with a wavy symbol—“implies the intent of the spell and curse are woven together.” Lines marred his forehead as he studied the casting. “If I’m reading this right, any interruption on the draining lines”—he pointed to the ethereal chains attached to Lena—“will shift the speed of the drain from slow and constant to immediate and lethal.”

  I looked at Lena. Her face carried a gray cast under the tangle of hair, and her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. There was no blood and no marks on her skin, but the press of bone under pasty skin was evidence that the Drainer’s Circle was currently taking more than magic with it. “It’s done a hell of a job so far, but she’s still hanging in there.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Zev agreed as he continued to study the circle. “Although maybe it’s a good thing she’s out.”

  Considering what we were about to attempt, I had to agree, but something in his voice made me wonder aloud, “Would it help if she was awake?”

  “Maybe.” He rose to his feet and offered me his hand. “Up.”

  I took it and straightened. “I can try to get through to her.”

  He walked me around the circle. “We’ll give it a shot; it can’t hurt. If nothing else, she can make sure we don’t step wrong.” He let me go once we stood at the south point of the circle. “Stand here and do what I say, when I say it, okay? I’m going to use you as a mirror to boost my energy.”

  As I faced Lena, my mouth was dry as a damn desert, but I managed a nod.

  He retraced our steps and took up a position at the north point, putting the three of us in a straight line. He looked at me over Lena’s bowed head and raised his hands in a familiar casting position, arms extended at waist height with palms facing forward. “You ready?”

  I mirrored his stance and braced. “Ready.”

  He took me at my word, and the swell of magic swept through the room. It pressed against my palms like a hot wind and then rushed back to Zev. He met my gaze, his dark eyes blazing with power. “See if you can rouse her while I work on this.”

  I did my best to ignore the discomfort and focus on my friend. “Lena, can you hear me? I need you to wake up for me.” The pressure of Zev’s power grew, then it washed through me, mixing with mine before sweeping back out in a bigger wave. I could feel our combined abilities, like an invisible current trying to squeeze through a tight opening, as it seeped into the circle. “Lena? Can you hear me?”

  As Zev’s power spilled into the power lines, it left behind a brilliant blue. The otherworldly glow crawled toward the first quarter of the circle, and the blue inched into the chains, snaking their way toward Lena. When the first drop touched her skin, she gave a soft groan.

  Tamping down my excitement, I hardened my voice and demanded, “Dammit, Lena, open your eyes.” I caught the faint movement as she curled one hand into a weak fist. Her head lolled. I glanced at Zev, and at his sharp nod, I barked out, “Lena Davis, get your ass up right now!”

  “Lemme alone, Ror,” she mumbled. “Tired.”

  “Get up, Lena,” I snapped, forcing back my shaky relief at hearing her voice. Magic swirled through me, hollowing me out. I bore down, determined to give Zev and Lena whatever I could.

  Her head bobbed then lifted, her lashes rising sluggishly. “Rory?” She winced and shifted against the restraints. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

  “You’re in deep shit, Lena, so pay attention.” My voice came out a little rough, but at least it was steady. “Look at me.”

  She did her best to focus on me. I kept an eye on the signature blue fire that inched its way around the circle toward where I stood. “Talk to me, Lena.”

  “Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as she lifted her head and looked around blearily. I could tell when her brain came back online, because she twisted hard in her chair, her gaze darting around. “Where is he?” Despite both the physical and magical restraints, her movements were harsh enough to make the chair wobble and to worry me she might tip over, chair and all.

  “Where’s who?” I asked, knowing it was better if I kept her talking and distracted.

  Her jerky movements stilled, and she glared at me. “Theodore Mahon, the slimy sack of pus.”

  Although I was relieved to hear Lena’s normal testiness in her shaky voice, that was not the name I thought she’d give. “Theo did this? Not Keith?”

  Lena’s lips twisted into a grimace, her hands fisting against the chair arms. “They’re working together. Assholes.” Anger saturated that last word. She shook her hair out of her face, winced, and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, she was all business. Her attention shifted to the circle and the blue flame that was just about to hit the halfway mark right at my feet. Her eyes met mine, and despite her visible panic, her voice was level. “What’s happening?”

  Zev’s power struck the center mark, bleeding into the lines at my feet. I felt the impact in my teeth, and a coppery taste coated my mouth. I sucked in a breath and managed a sickly smile. “We’re trying to get you out of this Drainer’s Circle.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” She twisted in her chair, trying to see behind her. A red undertone flashed under the blue along the chains holding Lena in place.

  “Stop!” Heart racing, I leaned forward, barely remembering not to move my hands and hold my position. If I stepped into the circle before Zev was ready, we would all be dead. “Don’t struggle, okay? Just stay still. Please.”

  Lena stilled, except for the occasional tremor. Her hazel eyes locked on to mine. “Who’s behind me?”

  Zev answered without looking away from the spell he was crafting. “My name’s Zev Aslanov.”

  “Zev Aslanov?” Lena repeated even as fever-bright color rode under her ashen cheeks. Her eyes narrowed on me. “As in the same one that works with the Cordova Family?”

  I didn’t get a chance to say anything before Zev confirmed, “The one and the same. Nice to know my reputation precedes me.”

  “Oh, it certainly does,” she muttered without looking away from me. Now it was my turn to blush under her stare. “What’s going on, Rory?”

  “Long story short, you went missing, I went searching. When my investigation crossed with Zev’s, we teamed up.” The mystical pull from my center went from teeth-gritting to butt-clenching. I checked the progress of Zev’s magic. The blue fire was closing in on the three-quarter mark. Unfortunately, its approach appeared to be slowing the closer it got to Zev.

  “That’s too short,” Lena snapped.

  “Keith stole a file that belongs to my Family,” Zev bit out. “I was tracking him when his body dropped at your condo.”

  The first circle snapped closed with a harsh rasp of magic that left me stifling my painful groan. The magic deepened and grew teeth as it flicked up to the second layer of the circle and started to bleed through the symbols.

  “I knew it would work.” Fierce satisfaction filled Lena’s face before she winced and hissed. The layer of blue in her restraints darkened to indigo as Zev’s magic rode the spell lines. This time, it was visibly faster as it wound its way through the secondary circle.

  I kept track of its progress from the corner of my eye. Then, in an effort to distract both Lena and myself, I asked, “Knew what would work?”

  “Explain after we get you out of this.” Ze
v’s voice was tight and dark.

  I met his gaze above Lena’s head and sucked in a shocked breath. His arms were steady, but the tendons in his neck popped with obvious strain. His eyes blazed with an unearthly light, and a thin layer of magic outlined his body in a ghostly flame. Fear forced his name out on a breath, “Zev?”

  He grimaced and bit out, “You ready?”

  I nodded and braced, despite the little voice in my head screaming, “Not really!”

  The secondary circle snapped closed, and an invisible wind whipped my hair back and left me squinting so my eyeballs wouldn’t dry out. A heartbeat, then two, passed before the brutal power eased back. An itchy line of sweat trailed down my temple.

  Between us, Lena stiffened, her gaze dropping to her arms, where the blue now mixed with the red, creating a purple so deep, it was closer to black. Her hands curled, and welts rose on her arms. She shuddered once and looked at me, her eyes wide, but her voice held no evidence of the panic creeping into her gaze. “What do you need from me?”

  “You’re a Key, right?” Zev waited for Lena’s nod. “Do you see that hex to your left at about ten o’clock?”

  She turned to her right.

  He corrected, “Your other right.”

  She looked the other way and froze. “That twisted little shit. He used an amplifier rune.”

  “If you attempt to disarm it with your power, you’ll trigger it.” Despite the situation, Zev’s voice stayed calm.

  “You use yours, and we risk the same thing,” Lena shot back, anxiety clear in her voice.

  Completely unruffled, Zev said, “Not if we hit it hard and fast enough. I need you to make sure I don’t take a wrong turn.”

  Lena couldn’t see Zev, but she could see me. Her worry and fear were barely held in check. “Rory, are you sure about this?”

  Zev stood behind her, like some avenging angel—or demon, the glow of his power adding a sinister cast to his features. He met my gaze and waited for my answer. Without looking away, I told Lena, “Yes, I’m sure.” A flicker of relief swept through his face, so fast that if I hadn’t been watching, I would have missed it. I switched my attention to Lena. “Trust me?”