by Kara Jaynes
I was afraid, so very afraid. My body shook so hard it was a wonder my teeth didn’t clack together.
“I should have run,” I said. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.”
“Ah, well, fortunately, my abilities do not extend to turning back time.” Elymas stalked into the shadows. “You’re mine, Glacia. You’re mine, and your magic is mine.”
“You’ll have to go through Silvan,” I snarled. It was true. The truth of it hung in the air, clinging to the corners of the room. “He will come for me, and destroy you.”
Elymas laughed, the sound harsh. “I’m not afraid of Silvan. Let him come.”
I couldn’t believe I’d fallen into his trap. He’d delivered, as promised, but the price was too high. “Tell me,” I said, “did Dubauer go back on his promise, or did you?”
“He did.” Elymas stepped closer, and I took a step back. “He went back on the promised payment, so in my wrath, I demanded ten times what he’d offered. He couldn’t pay, so the city suffered, as punishment for his crimes. The rats ate their food, and I used the fog to spy on the people. I set up traps and illusions all over the city, to ensure the guards could never find me, and to cause complete chaos if Dubauer was ever fool enough to allow another mage within the city.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “Your friend was foolish enough to set off my biggest trap. A legion of undead, unleashed on the people. They’re illusions, but no one will know that.”
“And the people?” I asked. Elymas was close now. So very close. “The ones who disappeared?”
Elymas’s smile was full of twisted malice. “Animals. Cursed to rove the countryside, a shadow of their former selves.” His expression brightened and he straightened from his crouch, all professionalism again. “Oh! That reminds me, I almost forgot. Allow me to show you my newest pet.”
All aggression gone, he walked past me, and over to one of the bookshelves against the wall. He pushed one of the books. The entire shelf swung inward, exposing another room. This one was cold and dark, devoid of any light except what now shone through.
I swallowed. Who would Elymas have put in such terrible darkness?
Elymas snapped his fingers and the torches flared, their light filling the room.
A stag stood near the far wall, a rope tied around its neck, the other end secured to an empty bracket. I noticed other brackets on the walls, some with chains and some without. What was the original purpose of this room? Had it been a dungeon? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Hands curling into fists, I walked past Elymas, and closer to the stag.
“Another enchanted human. Lovely.” I tried to keep my voice impassive, but my stomach curdled. How many of Stagfort’s citizens would he turn?
“You don’t recognize him? Look again.” I cringed at the amusement in Elymas’s voice. I stepped nearer.
The stag didn’t move, its head lowered, gaze on the stone floor. It was so sad. Its antlers almost brushed the floor.
I reached out with a trembling hand and patted it on its head, between the ears.
The stag snorted and lifted its head to gaze at me, great big tears building in its large brown eyes.
His eyes. I knew those eyes. Even as a stag, his eyes were the same.
“Taloos,” I choked. My heart twisted and broke. I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. “Taloos.”
He was cursed. But there was a cure. Through death, Elymas told me, minutes before.
But had he been telling the truth? I’d never forgive myself if I killed my friend.
“I can reverse the spell.” Elymas’s breath tickled my neck.
I jumped and spun around to face him. I felt I would explode from the hate I felt for this man. “Then do it,” I growled through gritted teeth.
“Promise me you’ll stay,” Elymas pressed. “No running. No resisting.” He gazed intently at me, all humor and condescension gone. “If you serve me, I’ll release the piper. He’ll be none the worse for wear, and will leave without any harm befalling him. If you refuse,” anger flickered in his gaze, “then he’ll remain a stag for the rest of his life.” His eyes darted to the beast tamer. “His own mother wouldn’t recognize him.” He laughed.
I closed my eyes. I’d lost a game I hadn’t known I was playing. I could fight back, but that wouldn’t help Taloos. What could I do?
Call me, and I will come.
Silvan.
He could help. He would help. Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes.
Silvan. Come.
The runes around my wrist cooled and I opened my eyes. “Thank you, Elymas Tenebra, but I decline your offer. I insist you release my friend from his curse, and let us go. Silvan will escort me home.”
“Silvan.” Elymas spoke his name like a curse. “You think Silvan will be able to help you?” He held up his wrist, pushing back his coat sleeve to show the identical runes that etched his skin. “He won't want you. You're linked with me.” His smile twisted. “His glass doll is damaged.”
Elymas still held my enchantment in check. I wouldn't be able to take it back unless I distracted him enough to weaken his hold. So, I did the only thing that came to mind.
I smacked him across the face with all the force in my arm. My strength was, admittedly, not much, but I left a red mark on his cheek, which was very satisfying.
I grappled at the magic in the same instant. Wind howled about us in a sudden gale. I didn't know what I was doing. The force pulsed inside of me; how did I rein it in? There. I felt a tug at my enchantment. Elymas. I struggled against his pull, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.
The wind died. The mage was in control again. And he was angry, his eyes like twin flames of green fire. “You little witch,” he hissed. “After everything I’ve done for you.” Nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. “You would refuse me? Fine.” He grabbed me by the wrist, and I cried out when his fingers pressed into the runes. He dragged me to the side of the room.
I stared at a glass coffin, leaning against the wall. Surely, he didn’t mean to put me in there.
Alone again. Unable to move. In isolation. No Silvan.
“No!” I struggled against his grip. “Please, Elymas, don’t!”
Elymas’s face was twisted in rage. I’d never seen him this angry. I wasn’t sure I’d seen anyone this angry. “Consider it punishment for your pride,” he snarled, his black hair wild about his face. “You rejected me, Glacia. Now, I reject you. When you see me again, you will beg me to take you.”
He shoved me into the open coffin, and my head hit the back from the force of his shove. Elymas slid the lid shut. I slipped my fingers in the closing space, in a desperate attempt to halt him. But it was my full strength against his, and he was undoubtedly the stronger. I had to slip my fingers back or have them crushed.
“Taloos!” I screamed.
The lid closed with a thud.
Through the warped glass, I saw the stag jolt as if coming alive, his head swinging around to gaze at me, trapped in the glass coffin. With a heave, he snapped the rope that encircled his neck and charged Elymas.
Elymas shifted to meet the onslaught, his form now that of a dark bull.
My breath came in ragged gulps as I watched through my prison. Elymas had the advantage in size and bulk, but Taloos fought with desperate fury, jabbing and slashing with his antlers and hooves.
“You can do this, Taloos!” I shouted through the glass. I doubted humans would be able to hear much of anything through the glass, but they were both in animal form. Elymas spun to face my prison, his beady eyes fixed on me, sparkling with fury. He pawed at the stone floor and charged, head lowered.
He was going to smash the glass. I had nowhere to go. I whimpered, pressing my back against the far glass.
Taloos lowered his head and rammed his antlers into Elymas’s side. The bull roared and stumbled, his bellow of pain unheard through the glass.
The back of the coffin disappeared, and I fell backward into nothingness. I couldn�
�t breathe. Panic swirled in my stomach as I clawed the air, searching for something substantial to hold onto.
I found nothing.
As the last shreds of my consciousness floated away, I prayed that Silvan would find me, and pull me from this nightmare that Elymas created.
That I’d created.
27
Silvan
Kali grabbed my sleeve, her pale green eyes full of fear and anger. “You keep walking in circles. I need you to help me get in there to help Taloos!”
I’d forgotten about the beast tamer. I shook my head and pulled my arm from her grasp. “I can’t get in.”
Kali’s face showed the disappointment I felt before her gaze hardened. “Fine. I’ll have to do it myself.”
She shed her shawl, her arms prickling in the icy fog, and slipped her pack from her shoulder, rummaging through it. “Why can’t you get in?” she asked.
I glowered at the building. “The enchantment is too twisted. It’s a puzzle. I can’t find the point to unravel it.”
“Like tangled yarn?” Kali asked, still crouched on the ground. She was looking very intently into her pack.
“Um, yes, kind of like that,” I admitted. I peered over her shoulder. “What are you looking for?”
Kali pulled out a drawstring pouch. “Would a counter charm get rid of it?” She passed it to me.
My eyes widened when my fingers closed on the leather bag. “Where on earth did you get this?”
“I have connections,” was the cryptic answer.
I could feel old magic emanating from the bag’s contents. “Your connection doesn’t happen to be a witch, does it?”
Kali arched an eyebrow at me. “Do you want your girlfriend back or not?”
I did. The contents of the pouch appeared to be dust. Probably ground up beetles, but it was hard to tell in its current state. The contents didn’t matter so much, but I wouldn’t try telling that to a witch. They were set in their ways, and were known to write long, extensive spells for something that didn't need to be that complicated.
This particular spell was moderately powerful. It wouldn’t be enough to undo what Elymas had woven here, but it would cause the disruption needed for me to finish what the spell started. Because I couldn’t find where the spell began, I would make a beginning. I would be able to unravel the spell without decimating the building and destroying whoever was inside. My gift was strong, but I didn’t always possess the delicacy needed for more sensitive situations.
I nodded shortly. “Stand back.”
Kali jumped to her feet and complied, hanging back in the shadows.
I loosened the drawstrings of the pouch, grimacing at the faint line of smoke that drifted lazily from it. Definitely witch magic. I sighed resignedly. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Stepping forward, filling the dust with my intention, I poured the contents onto my palm and flung it toward Elymas’s mansion.
The dust caught my magic, flashing brilliant silver as it collided with the web of enchantment that hung crisscrossed over the stone building. The web glittered silver for a second before fading to the dull gold that it typically was—save for a small fissure that still shone silver.
I inhaled deeply, ready to dismantle the enchantment, when a woman shuffled by, almost skeletal in appearance, gazing at me with bloodshot, tearful eyes. When her gaze met mine, she staggered forward, reaching out her hands. “Help me, sir, please help me.”
She was a phantom, one of Elymas’s countless illusions. I lifted my hand, tugging on the threads that kept her together, and the woman disappeared, sinking back into the fog.
“Spirits take it, this place has gone mad,” Kali muttered, rubbing her arms. “It wasn’t like this the last time I visited.”
“That’s good to know,” I said. I walked right up to the structure, and touched the little swirl of silver enchantment that still pulsed brightly. I tugged on it. Some of the magic unraveled.
“Elymas was always so polite,” Kali went on. “I don’t know what would have changed him, what would have caused him to unleash . . . this.” She waved a hand at the fog. “Who knew it hid so many dead people?”
“They’re illusions,” I said. “Just really convincing ones.”
More shouts in the night confirmed this. Anger resurface again. How long would this madness go on?
A man blundered out of the fog, his gaze locked on Kali. His lips curled into a sneer. “You’ll pay for this, you little roamer!”
Kali didn’t move, staring back at the man. “Kali,” I said.
“Whoa, he looks very real.” Kali peered at the approaching man. “That’s incredible.”
I dropped the threads of magic and sprinted over to stand in front of Kali. “Back off,” I snarled at the man.
“The roamers weren’t here before.” The man lunged to the side, trying to reach the girl. “They’re behind this insanity.”
A quick series of blows knocked him out cold. Kali stared at the man now slumped on the cobblestones. “I thought he was an illusion.”
I gave her a wry smile. “No.” I eyed some of the shapes shuffling by in the gray, but no one approached.
Her gaze became unreadable as she stared at me. “You saved my life, even though I’m a roamer. Why?”
“You needed protection,” I replied, watching her. A thread of curiosity wrapped about me. “It’s my duty.”
“Is that all?” she pressed, that same, unreadable look in her eyes.
I didn’t have time for whatever she was getting at. “Yes,” I replied, turning away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to start this before your witch magic fizzles out.”
Crying began nearby, deep, heart-wrenching sobs. A woman.
I yanked on the web, pulling Elymas’s barrier to pieces. I didn’t know what kind of game the mage was playing, but I didn’t want any part of it. The people of the city were terrified out of their minds. People screaming, running, fleeing. The mist billowed away from my left, and I saw a woman, huddled in an alley, arms wrapped around her three children as she sobbed her heart out. The fog covered them again, cloaking them The only indication that they were there was the woman’s crying.
Insanity.
It felt like the whole world had gone insane. Threads of darkness were now weaving through the fog. I didn’t know if the dark magic that currently hung in the air was intentional or not, but the solution to get rid of it was the same.
Destroy Elymas.
I loathed killing. There was always something awful about watching the light fade in someone’s eyes. But sometimes, with my mortal reasoning, it was the only solution.
I was done with Elymas, done with this city. Gathering my ability, I tore and slashed at the magical barrier.
Silvan.
Glacia called.
28
Glacia
Darkness reigned. It was all. Nothing existed but the eternal blackness, unyielding. Unchanging. I drifted, my mind a numb haze. I couldn’t remember anything. I had no past. No future. Just the gloom. It was a comforting shadow. It held me close, like a mother’s embrace.
Mother.
I remembered her.
The midnight black didn’t withdraw, rather, I could now make out images in the darkness. The images moved quickly, everything whirling by me in a dizzying blur. Closing my eyes, I took deep breaths as I tried to stop my stomach from clenching in response. The whirling continued, until it suddenly stopped, everything coming into focus. The darkness pulled away. I couldn’t see it anymore, but it was still there, watching, waiting.
I was a child. I sat in a large room, filled with toys. I picked up a doll. It was my favorite one, with soft, fuzzy yarn curls and a pale blue dress. I cradled it close, humming a lullaby Mother often sang to me.
As if my thoughts had summoned her, the door opened, and my mother glided in. She was the most beautiful person in the world. Tall and willowy, she had long, beautiful golden waves that cascaded about her shoulders, and soft, g
entle gray eyes.
“Where’s my baby?” she said as she entered. She smiled widely when she saw me. “There she is!”
I laughed, so happy to see her. Still clutching the doll tightly in one fist, I ran to her, holding my arms out.
Momma scooped me up. “Good morning, sweet earth,” she sang, “good morning, warm sun.”
“Good morning, gray stones, and deer as they run . . .”
Happiness enveloped me. Here, I was loved. Here, I was safe. Momma loved me, and I loved her. So much.
The darkness returned, wrapping me in oblivion.
When it cleared, I was running down a hall, the gray stone cold under my slippered feet. I knew these halls better than I knew myself.
Footsteps pounded behind me, and I shrieked with laughter, trying to pump my legs faster.
“Got you!” Father picked me up, tickling my neck. I laughed and laughed, squirming as I tried to get away.
He brought me close in a big hug. “My sweet Glacia,” he said, kissing my forehead. “My little ray of light.”
The darkness drew in, and receded in a pattern. I was listening to Mother tell a fairy tale. Father and I played hide-and-seek. Climbing into their bed after a nightmare. That happened a lot. I learned quickly to say I had a bad dream even when I had not, so I could snuggle between them and fall asleep, listening to Father’s soft snores, and feel the comforting weight of Mother’s arm about me.
Life was perfect.
When the blackness swirled about me again, the feeling changed. I felt like I was suffocating. Evil stalked the halls. Something was wrong.
I huddled in the nursery, clutching the doll to my chest, as if taking care of it would somehow keep myself safe.
Someone entered the nursery. A man I’d never seen. He had a harsh, angry face, and cold, unfeeling eyes.
Strong hands, grabbing me . . . dragging me.
Fear stabbed through me like a knife.
The man was going to hurt me.