Magic Immortal

by Ella Summers

  Naomi ground her teeth, reminding herself that attacking Rane wouldn’t help her save her babies. “Do you know where in Hero’s castle the dagger might be?”

  Rane rolled her shoulders back in an easy shrug. “He likely keeps it in his treasury.”

  Which was probably full of a million other treasures. It was like looking for a dagger on the battleground of a major engagement.

  “Fine,” Rane sighed when Naomi frowned at her. “I’ll meddle just this once. But mind you, afterward I’ll need a thorough skin peel to cleanse my body of the do-gooder stench.”

  Rane handed her the black dagger. “This dagger and the one Hero holds were forged together. They are part of a set, linked by magic. This one will lead you to its twin.”

  Naomi’s hand closed around the hilt. “We’ll get your dagger.”

  “Good. I’ll be waiting here. Eating my weight in candy.” The popcorn bucket reappeared in her hands. “And popcorn.”

  Naomi sheathed the black dagger, then marched out of the demon’s house, Makani and Firestorm on either side of her.

  “Slow down,” Makani said as Naomi sped up.

  “You heard Rane. Paladin and Paragon will soon have the power to speed along this pregnancy. I don’t have time to slow down.”

  “You have the time to strategize before storming into the king of hell’s fortress,” he told her.

  “Actually, that was exactly my strategy: storming into the king of hell’s fortress.”

  His mouth hardened. “This is Alex’s influence.”

  Alex had a tendency to leap first, then look. Naomi wasn’t usually like that, or at least she hadn’t been before. But now—well, now things had changed. The need to fix this right away, to protect her babies, to save them from a fate worse than death, propelled her legs forward.

  But Makani was right. She had to slow down. At least for a minute. Taking a few moments to create a true plan of attack wouldn’t cost her much time, but it might make all the difference in the world. It might mean the difference between survival and going down in flames. Right now, with her babies’ free will in the balance, there was too much at stake to play with fire.

  “What do you have in mind?” Naomi asked him.

  “First of all, I’m coming with you.”

  “It’s the core of hell, Makani. You will be weak there. The pressure of the spirit realm’s magic will break you down within minutes. It will take much longer than that to find the dagger.”

  “My discomfort is irrelevant. This is too important. I will not break.” His words crackled with magic.

  “I’m coming with you too,” Firestorm said. “I can help you. I know the island in all the realms.”

  Naomi considered her words. Rane had confirmed all that Firestorm had told them, but did that mean they could trust her? According to the demon, they could trust Firestorm as much as they could trust her. It felt like a trick statement. Hadn’t Rane said they would be fools to trust her?

  Naomi’s instincts hadn’t failed her yet. She chose to believe that Firestorm truly wanted to help them—if not for their benefit, then to get her revenge on Darksire.

  “We should bring her with us,” Naomi told Makani. “She’s strong. And we’ll need help to steal the dagger.”

  They couldn’t tell anyone else where the demons were really hiding. They might just kill her babies for the greater good, to protect the earth from demonic invasion. That was exactly what the Magic Council would do. It wasn’t a risk Naomi was willing to take.

  “I still don’t trust her,” Makani said, slanting a suspicious glare Firestorm’s way. “I’m not convinced she isn’t working with Darksire, in spite of everything he has done. She still loves him.”

  “I know, but I believe her,” said Naomi. “And if no one ever gives her a second chance, she’ll eventually go back to him, back to being a monster.”

  “As you wish.” He nodded, acquiescing to her decision. “But I will be keeping my eyes on her the whole time.”

  22

  The Demon King

  They stopped by the house to pick up supplies before going back to hell. They needed something to counteract the spirit realm’s enormous drain on earth magic.

  “I’ve been working on something with Riley for a few weeks,” Naomi said as she walked to her weapons closet. “I’d hoped to test it under more controlled circumstances, but in this case, desperation seems to trump prudence.”

  She opened the closet doors. Filling the inside walls were swords, spears, and daggers. Bows and arrows hung from the doors. Bottles of healing potions sat in a neat row atop the glass shelf.

  Firestorm came up behind her. “Nice collection.”

  “Makani made most of the weapons.”

  “I saw the workshop in the garage.” Her gaze shifted from the weapons to the man who’d made them. “So you’ve reclaimed your old hobby.”

  “Old hobby?” Naomi asked.

  “When we were kids, he learned the art. And when he became our ruling prince, he insisted that he design our kingdom’s weapons and armor, then the blacksmiths and craftsmen would create more based on his original designs. We won many battles because of his designs and strategies.”

  “That was many lifetimes ago,” he told Firestorm. “Before you were born.”

  He meant before she was reborn as Firestorm, his enemy. He didn’t see her as his sister, his twin soul, anymore.

  “Here they are,” Naomi said, breaking the heavy silence. She handed Makani and Firestorm each a token, a gold coin with magical engravings, dangling at the end of a long chain.

  Firestorm traced her finger across the symbols. “These tokens are bursting with spirit magic.”

  “It is my magic,” Naomi said. “When activated, the token will create a magic shield around you, woven from my spells. That should protect you from the drain of hell’s magic as long as the tokens have enough spirit magic left in them. That could mean hours, or only minutes. Until we’ve tested them in hell, we can’t be sure.”

  “It’s your magic,” Makani said, placing the chain around his neck. “If the spells in here are anything like you, I have every confidence that they will not yield easily.”

  “Did you just call me stubborn?” Naomi asked him, smirking.

  His arm curled around her back, pulling her in close. “Yes, but in more eloquent words.”

  She peeked at him through fluttering eyelashes. “It’s really hard to argue with eloquent words.”

  “I know,” he said against her lips. “That’s why I use them.”

  She kissed him softly. “Come on, Your Majesty, let’s get moving before you can use any more of those eloquent words in your deadly arsenal.”

  Firestorm was watching them, a curious look on her face.

  “What?” Naomi said.

  “We were on opposing sides for so long,” replied Firestorm. “I never expected this was going on in my enemy’s camp.”

  “Hugs and kisses?”

  “This flippancy. This lightness.”

  “When times are dark, you need a little light to keep you going. It reminds us what we’re fighting for,” Naomi told her. “What did you fight for?”

  “I fought for Darksire,” she replied immediately. “I fought for us to be together in a world that was determined to keep us apart.”

  Which was why when she’d learned Darksire had betrayed and manipulated her, she’d lost all reason to fight alongside him. It actually made sense why she’d defected.

  Makani would warn her not to trust Firestorm, that someone who’d switched sides twice already could switch again given the right trigger. But Naomi didn’t think so. They just had to help Firestorm find something worth fighting for. Something positive.

  “I’m going to try to bring us right into Hero’s fortress in the ninth circle,” Naomi told them. “Before we enter the spirit realm, you need to activate your tokens. If they work as Riley and I designed them, they will create a field around you, protecting your magic s
o it’s not drained. Since we don’t know how long the magic will last, we need to be quick. Also, if you’re attacked, your shields will take damage. So it would be best to avoid any unnecessary confrontations.”

  Rane had told Naomi that she could jump to any point on earth or in hell. Maybe it was the knowledge that she could do it—or maybe it was her desperation to save her babies from the demons—but when she opened the veil this time, she could not only see the layers of hell at this location. She could shift the lens of her gaze to any location in the realms.

  “Let’s go,” she declared. Then she pulled them through the passage.

  They popped up on a tropical beach in the ninth circle of hell. The sand was purple, the palm trees bright red. Black clouds rolled over an orange sky. It all looked like an inverted image; the colors were all the opposite of what they should be.

  Naomi pulled out the dagger, raising it in the air. The black blade didn’t glow or twinkle. It didn’t hum either. It remained distinctly dormant.

  “So much for this leading us to the other dagger,” she sighed.

  “It’s likely this dagger needs to be closer to the other before it starts giving us directions,” Makani said.

  For some reason, Naomi suddenly pictured the dagger talking to them like a car’s navigation system. She laughed.

  Makani and Firestorm both looked at her like she’d cracked.

  “Sorry. I’m fine now.” Swallowing her lingering chuckles, she asked Firestorm, “Do you know the way to Hero’s fortress?”

  “Just over that hill.”

  They walked up the sandy hill, their feet sinking into the purple sand with every step. Along the way, they passed prickly white bushes with lime green flowers that oozed pink fluid.

  “Rane always said she didn’t make deals with mortals,” Naomi commented, her steps coming heavier now. How big was this godforsaken hill anyway? “She’s always been adamant that those deals never turn out well for anyone.”

  “She surely has an ulterior motive,” replied Makani. “This isn’t just about a dagger. Despite what Rane says, she could get that back herself.”

  “But what could her ulterior motive be? And why does she want us to get her the dagger? If she wanted to kill us, surely there would be easier ways.”

  “Since when have demons ever made things easy?”

  He had a point. Demons lived for convoluted conspiracies, and they breathed serpentine schemes.

  Rane was always reminding them that she was a demon, someone not to be trusted. Naomi couldn’t help but notice the similarities between Rane and Firestorm. Each was singularly powerful. Each had been betrayed by someone close to her. And each was constantly reminding Naomi not to trust her.

  And yet Naomi did trust them. Well, kind of.

  They’d made it to the top of the sandy hill. Naomi could see the demon’s fortress in the distance. It looked like a huge sandcastle, but undoubtably better fortified. To get to the castle, they’d have to tackle many more hills—sandy, slippery hills without grip. And her boots were already full of sand.

  Sighing, Naomi set off across the sandy expanse. Each hill seemed steeper than the previous one, each step more slippery. Naomi’s legs were heavy; her shoes felt like they were weighed down with rocks. She was heaving in breaths like she had a plastic bag over her head.

  Sometime between the twentieth and thirtieth hill, Firestorm came up beside her. “You’ve popped.”

  Naomi looked down at the very noticeable baby bump bulging under her shirt, stretching it to the breaking point. Before she’d started down this trail of hills, her tummy had been flat. That explained why each step she’d taken had felt heavier. She actually had been getting heavier.

  She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and tore off a few inches, freeing her belly from the overstretched fabric. Either her babies’ sudden growth was due to hell’s bizarre flow of time, or Rane’s warning was coming true, and the demon princes had grown strong enough to speed along the pregnancy. Whatever the case, they had to hurry. Soon it would be too late.

  Unfortunately, there seemed to be only one way into the giant sandcastle, and Hero’s soldiers were guarding the thick gates. Even the castle’s windows had bars over them. He was truly a paranoid demon.

  “The only way in is through those guards,” Makani said, his gaze sweeping the castle.

  “Yes.” Firestorm looked exhilarated, ready for a fight. She must have gone stir crazy after being stuck in that cage for so long. “Admit it. You knew it would come to this.”

  “Yes.”

  “Absolutely not,” Naomi told him. “No fighting. The magic shields protecting you are not battle-tested. I don’t know how they will hold up under normal conditions. Though I am pretty sure they will crumble and buckle under the onslaught of enemy magic. “

  “Pretty sure,” Makani said, a devious spark in his eyes. “But not completely sure.”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “I love you too,” he replied.

  Naomi counted the guards. “There are only ten of them. If you’re careful—”

  “Exactly.” He kissed her quickly.

  Then he and Firestorm charged onto the field. The soldiers looked at them in alarm—or maybe they were looking at the golden magic fields around them. Only powerful people had magic in hell.

  Makani and Firestorm took out the soldiers almost before Naomi could blink. Two born warriors—two dragons in their element—they moved so beautifully. So naturally. There wasn’t a step out of place. Each movement was executed with perfect, smooth grace.

  As Firestorm grabbed the key to the castle gate off one of the soldiers, Makani jogged back across the field to Naomi, his gold eyes glowing.

  He extended his hand to her. “See? No problem at all.”

  Firestorm stood at the now-open gate, waving them toward her.

  Inside Hero’s fortress, they met resistance. That resistance came in the form of a wall of warriors and the occasional lesser demon. Makani and Firestorm surged forward.

  “This way to the treasury,” Firestorm said, moving so fast. Her magic plowed right through Hero’s forces.

  A red lesser demon closed in on them from behind. Naomi blasted him away. Suddenly, Makani threw himself in front of her. A spell slammed into his magic shield. Naomi looked at the blue lesser demon who’d fired off that spell at her. Makani swung his sword around, plunging it through the creature. It burst into flames, crumbling to ash in mere moments.

  “Makani,” Naomi said, her voice breaking with emotion. “I didn’t even see that second lesser demon. It could have knocked me out, or killed me. Then this would have been all over.”

  “I have your back. Always,” Makani said, his eyes serious. “You know that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “We need to get moving before the rest of Hero’s warriors find us,” Firestorm told them.

  She was right. They ran toward the treasury, Firestorm leading the way. The hallway dead-ended at an elevator in the form of a gold cage.

  “I’m not sure I like the look of that,” Naomi said.

  Firestorm stepped into the elevator without fear or hesitation. The door didn’t slam shut. A magic field didn’t flare up around the cage and trap her. Even so, Naomi paused at the threshold.

  “It’s the only way into the treasury,” said Firestorm.

  But it felt so much like a trap.

  Naomi took a deep breath, then she stepped inside the elevator. Makani was right behind her. As promised, he was watching her back. Firestorm swung the door of the cage closed. The elevator shook, then began to rise up through the moonlit shaft. At the top, below the skylight, they stepped out of the elevator into an open chamber.

  When most people envisioned a king’s treasure room, they pictured a thick carpet of gold coins covering the floor. They expected stacks of gold bars, goblets, crowns, and pearl necklaces spilling out of jewel-studded gold treasure chests.

  The king of hell’s treasure room
wasn’t like that. There were no piles of gold or treasure chests. And the only jewels Naomi spotted were adorning the covers of the ancient-looking books displayed behind glass cases.

  The chamber was as immense as a library—no, a museum. Several open archways led to connected rooms, each one holding different kinds of treasures. This room contained books. Others held art or weapons. But no matter what a room featured, every piece was neatly arranged, either hanging from the wall or set inside a display case, artfully lit with spotlights.

  Naomi entered the weapons room. That’s where Rane’s dagger had to be. Weapons glared at her from behind glass cases. The first few held spears of all sorts. Armor came next, followed by bows. Dozens of cases contained swords of every kind. Naomi continued on, passing just as many cases of knives. The room went on and on, seemingly endless. How were they ever going to find the dagger in here?

  Naomi lifted up the dagger’s twin. “Ok, do your thing.”

  This time, the weapon responded. A blue glow pulsed across the black blade. Naomi took another step, and the blade turned a shade lighter.

  “We’re getting closer,” Naomi said. “That, or this dagger reacts to mortal peril.”

  Something thumped loudly behind her.

  “Really?” she demanded, glaring at the dagger in her hand. “I was just kidding about the mortal peril.”

  Her eyes stopped mid-roll, however, when she turned around to find not a monster, but Makani pushing himself off the floor. The thump had been him hitting the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  Firestorm tried to help him stand, but he waved her off, getting to his feet by himself. Pain crinkled his forehead.

  Naomi’s gaze swept over his body. There were no wounds to speak of, but the magic shield around him was another matter altogether. It had more holes than a family pack of doughnuts. That must have happened when he’d jumped in front of her to protect her from the lesser demon’s spell. His shield had taken the hit, and now it was damaged. The power of hell was oozing through the holes, draining his magic. Considering that this was the core of hell, that must have hurt him a lot more than his face was showing. When Naomi had walked with Sera through hell, her friend could hardly stand. And she had thrown up every few steps.