by Ashley Meira
“As long as none of them summon golems, I’m fine.” My arm stopped hurting while I was absorbing the barrier’s magic, but I guess I’d been unconscious too long to enjoy the effects. “Not a good time to ask for a massage, huh?”
Adam flashed a beautiful smile. “When this is over, I’ll massage you for as long as you want.”
“Smooth,” Fiona said.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he told her. “Unless she wants—”
“Remind me to never put you two in a room together again.”
“This isn’t a room,” they said.
I rolled my eyes, wiped the bile from my tongue — don’t do drugs, kids — and led the charge. The plateau opened up into a larger arena. Wispy clouds circled around, making it feel like an another world. It was silent, like stepping into a graveyard. Two dozen mages kneeled before the ritual site, forming two rows.
At the very edge stood a plain stone altar. Jars lined the base, filled with inhuman offerings. The Heart floated above them surrounded by a heavy cloud of magic. Thick black streams encircled the brass artifact, its large emeralds glowing behind them. Demonic magic. I couldn’t tell if it was part of the Heart or not, but my main concern laid with the two people standing beside it.
One of them was Cyrus. The other was the masked thief. Her white leather combat suit blended in with the clouds, a dark ponytail the only visible part of her. There was a sword strapped to her back. I licked my lips, tasting sugar cookies. She was casting magic, but I didn’t know what kind. Cyrus was kneeling before her and the Heart, head bowed low.
Remnants of my kidnapper’s magic lingered. It was settled around the woman, twirling around her magic like a persistent cough. She’d been with our kidnapper so long his magic had seeped into her own. But she was so sweet — no one who smelled like a damn bakery started out evil. The girl from my dream had been a slave too. Had he turned her? Or was she still a servant? I needed answers, but the mages surrounding them probably weren’t going to let me get close enough to ask.
Fiona and Adam came up behind me, taking in the unholy sight. A strong hand gripped my elbow as Adam moved in front of me. His concern brought butterflies to my stomach. He’d been so sweet to me. It was hard to remember why I ever wanted to push him away.
Hard — not impossible. He could throw me in jail. Or worse, he and my friends could get thrown in jail for harboring me. I pulled my arm away and took aim. Any answers I had would die with her, but if I could take Cyrus down quickly enough, it might ruin the ritual.
When I raised my sword, the woman whipped around. Quick as lightning, she flung her sword at us. We split up, the blade embedding itself in the ground where Adam had been standing. Envy filled me as I looked it over. The blade was obsidian, sharpened to a fine point. Platinum wrapped around its ebony hilt in the form of a magnificent phoenix, its wings encircling the grip. It glistened under the somber light, beautiful and deadly. I could work my whole life and never be able to afford a sword like that. Could I steal this one?
She reached her hand out, and the sword vanished, reappearing in her hand.
Never mind.
“What the hell?” Cyrus screamed, eyes wide with outrage. “How are you still alive? And how did you make it past the barrier — and the golems? What are you people?”
Fiona shrugged. “Competent?”
I turned to Adam. “You can never complain about my smart mouth again.”
“I remember mentioning it, but I don’t recall ever complaining,” he said, dusting himself off. “It’s part of your charm.”
“The other part of your charm is stabbing people.” Fiona rolled her shoulders. There was a heaviness to her movements that worried me. If only I could ask her to sit this one out. “Let’s give these guys a demonstration.”
I nodded. “After those golems, this’ll be like cutting through butter.”
“I’ve seen you cut butter.”
I rolled my eyes. “You put it in the fridge.”
“You’re supposed to—”
A shriek followed by a huge burst of magic interrupted us. Adam had shifted and was spitting fireballs at the mages.
Fiona gaped at the sight. “Holy crap.”
“Maybe he doesn’t need our help,” I said, watching the panicked mages run around hurling whatever they could think of.
“We both know you’re too much of a control freak to sit this out,” she said.
I raised a brow.
“Okay, I’m a control freak. You’re a combat fiend.”
“We could fight crime with names like that.”
She snorted, lips curving into a smile. “We do fight crime. Sort of.”
“Let’s fight these guys, then.”
“Yeah—” She cut off as Adam breathed out a stream of fire.
Drool pooled in my mouth. My Fire roared at the thought of consuming his magic. The mages flinging spells around weren’t helping matters either. Fairy Dew mingled with their power, covering everything in a sugary overcoat. Yeah, they needed to die — before I choked on the miasma of syrupy magic forming around us.
A mage shot a jet of water at Adam. Throwing my sword at that mage, I ran toward another shooting ice and kicked him in the face. He collapsed in time for a flurry of rocks to hit me. My Fire purred at the absorbed magic. I called my sword back and beheaded the mage throwing rocks.
“Do something!” Cyrus yelled at the woman in white. “Fix this — they’re getting slaughtered!”
She sheathed her sword and regarded us, expression hidden behind her monster mask. With a casual roll of her shoulder, she turned away and pressed a hand to her ear — a communication charm. Was she speaking with our kidnapper?
“Pack up.” She waved a hand toward the altar. The mask obstructed her voice, making it sound deep and robotic. “We’ll do this somewhere else.”
“What? No.” Cyrus gestured wildly toward us. “They’ll find us again. This mountain needs to come down now. I want my power now!”
She snapped her fingers and pointed to the altar. “Pack up. Now.” Her blade came out in a flash. “I’ll take care of this.”
“If you’re fighting, they’re dead. Why do—” He shrunk back when she turned to look at him. Shoulders slumped, he began closing the jars and packing them away.
Snow White threw her sword at me. It stabbed the ground at my feet before reappearing in her hand. Fiona threw a Fairy Bolt. The pink cloud smashed into her chest, vanishing instantly. Definitely Fireborn.
Snow’s next attack came twice as fast, slicing the ends of Fiona’s hair. Throwing another Fairy Bolt, she shrunk down and retreated. Being good at hand-to-hand combat didn’t mean she was about to take on someone with a sword — especially not one swinging hers around like a pro.
Fiona edged around her, magic dancing around her fingertips. She couldn’t get close, but any magic she used would only get absorbed. I flung my sword at Snow’s back. Without looking, she brought her sword around and deflected my attack.
She threw her sword in response. I dodged and ran for her, calling my sword back. She recalled hers just in time to block my attack. Onyx clanged against obsidian as we fought. Neither of us had hit the other yet, but she had the upper hand. Fiona’s Fairy Bolt had charged her up — not to mention how much damage stabbing golems did to my arm.
Lightning flew between us. I leapt back, but she didn’t move. The magic cut into her chest, getting absorbed instantly. Adam had shifted back and was running toward us with a sword made of lightning in hand.
“That’s not going to work,” I said.
He turned to me, nodding at my sword. “Give me yours.”
“Or I could just keep fighting her.” I regretted those words. My arm was killing me — he’d be helping out a lot.
“Your arm—”
Snow slashed at him. He blocked the attack with his sword. Ducking down, she swung her leg and kicked him off his feet. I attacked while she was distracted, but she whipped around and deflected my sw
ord. The stray lightning had strengthened her more. Each blow felt like fending off an angry steel wall. A pair of arms wrapped around her middle. She kicked up, her knees slamming into Adam’s face. He stumbled back. She broke free, kicking his stomach before raising her sword up.
Deciding to give my arm a break, I kicked her. She hit the ground but rose immediately. I punched her before she could swing her sword. She punched back. I ducked, kicking her knee. She caught my leg and pulled, kneeing me in the gut as I stumbled forward. While I recovered, she twisted and kicked. Red exploded before me as her boot made contact with my nose. A loud crack rang out and blood flooded across my mouth.
“Sophia!” Fiona rushed toward me, but three mages blocked her path.
“I’m good,” I slurred. “Kind of. Could’ve been worse — she could have stabbed me.”
Adam swung a fist. She stepped back and slashed at him. Guess I reminded her she had a sword. He dodged and moved to hit her again, but a stray fireball blocked his path. Four more mages stepped forward, eyes clouded with Fairy Dust and smiles stretched dementedly.
“Finished,” Cyrus called, a stuffed backpack slung over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”
She kicked my stomach. When I hit the ground, she threw a punch at my face. Groaning, I rolled onto my side. The overflow of blood made me gag, and I coughed up as much as I could, painting the ground crimson.
My arm trembled as I pushed myself up, watching the remaining mages swarm Adam and Fiona. Cyrus met Snow halfway, and she pulled something out of her pocket. My eyes widened at the giant ruby in her palm — the Gem of Anathasia. They were going to escape.
The world spun when I staggered to my feet, but I couldn’t let them get away. Whatever they were planning had to be stopped. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I knew it’d wreak havoc on our world. Plus, Snow had answers about my past.
Hazelnut assaulted my senses. Snow was charging the Gem. Haste had me tripping over my feet, and the world faded to black several times as I charged blindly toward the pair. I reached forward, fingers closing around the end of Cyrus’ trench coat. As I did, the world turned gold, and the plateau vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Consciousness prickled in as dirt filled my nose and mouth. My body ached, like I’d been dropped off a mountain. Wearily, I pushed myself up, stumbling before righting myself on shaky legs.
Darkness stretched around me, giving the tunnel I was in a sinister feel. Blood welled in my throat, overflowing past my teeth. Where was I? The warmth made me think I wasn’t underground, but there was no way to tell.
Pointed rocks shot into the earthen wall near my head, reeking of beer. Cyrus stood a few feet away with his magic shaking like a skittish rabbit. He was glaring at me, another pile of sharp rocks floating around his head. Snow appeared from the darkness and grabbed his arm, pulling him forward.
I chased after them, ignoring the burning in my lungs. Throwing my sword in such close quarters could cause serious damage. I didn’t want either of them dead. The only thing I could think of was magic. But how? How had I summoned that tornado? Adam was hurt, about to be attacked…. Then what? I panicked, and the magic just came out. Should’ve let him train me when I had the chance.
Rocks flew toward me. As a reflex, I brought my arm up. The magic shot through me like five shots of espresso. Another group of rocks raced at me, disintegrating against my skin in a rush of bliss. The ache in my bones faded, and my spleen no longer felt like it was burst open. My footsteps fell faster as I gained on them. I took another cluster of rocks to the face, letting the magic kiss my skin. Kind of hard to hate Cyrus when he was patching me up.
“Stop doing that.” Snow’s robo-voice sounded winded, and her steps were unbalanced.
Luminescent dots were sprinkled around the tunnel, forming shapeless figures to distract me. Humming echoed in my ears, mixing with the roaring of my Fire for more magic. I teetered around, trying to find my balance through the haze of magic filling my vision. Maybe he should stop.
“Then use the damn Gem,” he hissed. “Get us out of here!”
“If you have enough magic to use it, feel free,” she said. At least I didn’t have to worry about them teleporting away.
“You do have a plan, right? Where the hell are we anyway?”
“New Zealand.”
My brows shot up. France to New Zealand. How was she still standing?
Excess magic zinged through my veins. Taking a deep breath, I let it float to the surface — just like my kidnapper taught me. Channeling magic was hard when running, but after a minute of bumbling concentration, I felt sparks of magic spill from my fingers.
An ice spear flew from my fingers straight toward Cyrus’ back. Shit. I didn’t want to kill him. Before my spear hit, Snow deflected it with her sword.
Cyrus cackled. “Not so tough without your friends around, are you?”
When I knocked him out this time, I was breaking his nose.
“Didn’t even notice you were a mage,” he continued. “Must be too weak.”
Yeah — that, and you aren’t a tracker mage. “Not as weak as you.”
“Bitch,” he growled. “I’m about to become a god! When I do—” his lips peeled back into a twisted grin “—I’m going to kill you first.”
“Knock it off,” Snow said. They were approaching an archway. She stopped underneath it as Cyrus rushed past her. “Keep going.”
“Where?” his voice echoed from ahead.
“Summit. Single path.” She unsheathed her sword. “Go.”
I skidded to a halt. Cyrus had the Heart — I needed to catch him for Adam. But the woman in front of me had the answers I wanted, the answers I needed.
“I don’t suppose we can be friends?” I asked, drawing my sword.
“Do you usually draw your weapon at your friends?”
Shrugging, I said, “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?”
“Charming.”
“I can feel his magic on you. The man who kidnapped us.” I didn’t mention I had a dream about her. She might ask questions I couldn’t answer.
“Kidnapped us?” She tilted her head. “Is that so?”
My grip faltered. I’d been chained up. Fiona woke up in a cell. We had brands. Of course we’d been taken, held against our will. I looked over Snow’s posture, upright and alert. The death mask made it hard to tell, but she didn’t look like a slave. My eyes widened.
She worked for him.
What if we’d been with him of our own volition?
“Name,” I stammered out, trying not to buckle under the possibility. “What’s his name?”
She tilted her head to the other side. “What’s yours?”
“You first.”
“Bargaining only works when you have something the other person wants.”
“You asked.” I steeled my will, trying to bring my magic to the forefront. This was a ploy, a distraction so Cyrus could escape. She wasn’t going to give me anything.
She seemed to read my mind, because she flung her sword before charging. I ducked, rolling to the side. Both blade and woman flew past me. I ran for the archway. With the magic-induced stamina boost, there was still a chance I could catch Cyrus.
A weight against my back dashed my hopes. We hit the ground, Snow on top of me. I brought my hands up in time to block the flurry of blows she rained down on me. Again, I should be thankful she wasn’t stabbing me — though it was hard to feel anything positive when someone with studded leather gloves was punching you.
I wiggled lower until she was straddling my chest. Lifting my legs, I kicked the back of her head. While she was dazed, I shoved her off me, throwing another kick at her face for good measure. My next breath felt like acid searing my lungs, but the break gave me a chance to gather my bearings and look around.
We were in a small atrium-like room. Nothing special, but it worked well as a fighting space. Footsteps caught my attention. I rolled to the side and swept my leg o
ut. Mid-fall, Snow backflipped away and flung her sword at me. It landed my feet. I couldn’t resist the urge. The ornate phoenix’s allure was too strong. I gripped it, feeling a tingling around my thumb.
A soft light glowed inside my ruby ring, like a small flame. Before I could examine it farther, a white boot slammed into my chest, knocking the wind out of me. I jumped right up, but a roaring wall of fire shoved me back. My panic subsided a moment later, when I realized I was magic-proof — hard to remember when fire rushed at you. Still, the heat was searing. More than I could recall any magic being.
“Pathetic,” she droned. “A waste of potential. If you stayed, you could have amounted to so much—” She cut off with a sharp gasp and clutched her head, fingers dipping into the grooves of her mask. “You could have— No, you need to—”
I watched her stumble around, trying to figure out what was wrong. Was she okay? Her safety mattered to me, but I wasn’t sure why. That didn’t mean I would waste this opportunity, however. Fireborns were magic-proof, but they could be knocked out as easily as anyone else.
I kicked out, planting my boot in her face — thank goodness we were the same height. Twisting my hips, I kicked her again before throwing a punch. My knuckles stung. That mask was tougher than I thought. She stumbled back but didn’t fall. We recalled our swords and restarted the fight.
It was like my dream was playing itself over in realtime. But our moves weren’t mirrored anymore. She was faster and stronger. Her strength came from absorbing more magic than I had over the years — or so my ego claimed. Using the Gem had tired her out, which was the only reason she hadn’t completely destroyed me already. There was also a clumsiness to her movements that hadn’t been there before, a hitch in her step. What happened to her a moment ago was still affecting her. But what had happened?
Finally, I saw an opening. I shoved my sword forward, slicing across her thigh. The side of her pants tore, and a glimpse of red made me pause, leaving myself vulnerable. Searing pain spread from my navel outwards, sending pulses of agony throughout my body. I fell back, her sword still inside me. All I could see was the phoenix, soaked in my blood. I hit the ground, shoving the sword back out. The pain intensified, jarring and brutal.