Twisted Elements: Twisted Magic Book Two

by Rainy Kaye

  She sat back down and as Randall navigated the van out of its tight parking space, she gave a long sideways look at Fiona before saying, “Okay, can someone enlighten me what is going on with her? No offense.”

  Fiona didn’t seem to take any offense. She barely even moved.

  “So, you want us to catch you up with that situation,” I began, “but you aren’t willing to divulge any details about yours?”

  “If your situation will get us all killed for telling me, then by all means, don’t share,” she said.

  I should have guessed that whatever she was up to involved something nefarious, but until she spelled it out, I hadn’t realized we might be asking for even more trouble by partnering up with her.

  More trouble than trying to recapture the world’s deadliest witches and mages, though?

  Unlikely.

  “Fiona was being held hostage by some people who want the dark witches and mages, but I have no idea for what,” I said, shoulders curling forward and my body leaning with them. I didn’t have the energy for anything anymore. “She’s been like this ever since we found her. I think she’s in shock.”

  No, I don’t.

  Sasmita just made an mm noise, which sounded a lot like she didn’t believe my assessment, either.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I said, directing the conversation back to a more pertinent, and deadly, topic. “We know you have to be the one to open the picture, so I guess that leaves me to tango with Mr. Bad Guy.”

  “I have to get his blood first,” she said.

  “Right. Blood. So how do we do that?”

  “It only takes a few seconds,” she said. “Once I can get to him, that is. I think we’re going to have to switch off roles to make this work. You will need to keep the demons at bay while I samba with him, and then we’ll switch partners and you two can rumba.”

  “I do enjoy that our dancing metaphor makes no sense at all,” I said. “It also speaks volumes about how much we are winging this. Any ideas what tactic to use on the demons? Since you just did the cha-cha with them and all.”

  “As you witnessed, I wasn’t holding my own on that dance floor,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “You can try the pulse technique we used on Winston. It’s probably enough to stop a man’s heart, but I can’t say for sure with the demons. They’re, well, demonic.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “They’re weird. I mean, they were people, and then a magic ribbon touches them and…ta-da, insta-demon.”

  “Loyal followers,” she corrected. “His magic is strong enough to coerce them and alter their appearances, to play along with his façade of the Mardi Gras parade and what not. I guess he was bored locked up in the vault for centuries.”

  “I really don’t like the idea we might have to kill some of the demons,” I said, the words escaping before I fully considered them. “They were people once, and when the mage is gone, maybe they will turn back. Anyone we kill won’t get a chance at returning to their normal lives. I prefer if we don’t kill any.”

  “I doubt they feel the same way about us,” Randall said, and while his tone was all-business, he reached over and squeezed my hand in my lap.

  I wasn’t really built for all this fighting and death-defying stuff, but there wasn’t much left to do about it.

  “I’ll hit them with all I’ve got,” I said with a resigned sigh, but I kept to myself my fear that my magic would abandon me when I needed it. If Randall knew that, he would likely argue against us continuing with this mission, and I would be hard-pressed to insist on going.

  No, we would pretend that this was a good plan.

  “Looks like the party is coming to us,” Randall said.

  Down the street, the Mardi Gras parade rolled our direction, the largest float in front, flanked by crowds of demons on either side. The mage had returned to his throne, but he had ceased waving. Maybe his arm was tired.

  I mentally rolled my eyes at myself and tried to focus. Somehow, Sasmita and I were going to scale the float undetected, sneak up on the mage and draw his blood, and then open the picture and throw him inside.

  Easy-peasy.

  “They’re going to see us climbing up the float,” I said as the realization dawned. “There’s no way they aren’t going to notice us, or act on it.”

  “Yep,” Sasmita said, and her plan all came together for me. We weren’t sneaking up on the mage—we were fighting our way to him.

  Randall made a U-turn at the intersection, veering to the curb until we came to a halt. The ignition continued to run as he faced me.

  “I need a weapon,” he said. “Gun, knife, atlatl, I don’t care.”

  I swept my hand toward the windshield, indicating the debris outside. “Well, you have a wide array to choose from. There’s wreckage from homes, coffee shops, and stores. Take your pick.”

  He squinted one eye. “I think if we’re climbing up the float, I’ll want something I can jab down with.”

  “Uh.” I shifted in my seat. “You’re supposed to be our getaway driver.”

  He gaped a little before he said, “And I will be, but if you think I’m going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while you two take on one of the deadliest mages in the world—I mean, really, Saf?”

  “Fiona can’t—” I began, but he held up his hand.

  “Fiona is pretty well intact, if you haven’t noticed. Broken, definitely, but she had no issues cracking that guy’s head like an egg. I think she’ll be just fine.” He turned to wink at her. “Won’t you, babe?”

  Fiona smoldered at him through that strange void on her face.

  “See, she’s good,” he said.

  “I like exactly zero percent of this plan,” I said, yanking off my seatbelt. “Stay on the ground and watch for when we need the picture and then haul it out. Not sure bringing it this soon is a good idea in case the demons recognize what it is and try to light it on fire or something.”

  “Roger that,” he said, stepping out of the van.

  Sasmita joined us, but Fiona stayed in place. Frustration nipped at my back, but I brushed it off.

  The three of us stood facing the intersection as the parade passed by. The float seemed to be bigger than last time I saw it, and its tires crunched on both sidewalks as it rolled on. Maybe it was my imagination. Then again, the mage had been drawing up power from the earth to such magnitudes he caused earthquakes. Perhaps he had decided an upgrade to his vehicle was in order with all his collected magic.

  “What about the mirror trick?” Randall asked.

  I started to ask him what he was talking about, but then I remembered how we had managed to get the upper hand on Eliza Brown in a pinch.

  “I don’t think that’s going to work,” I said, unable to look away from the parade. “Eliza Brown wasn’t at full capacity yet, hadn’t really found her footing back in this world. I’m pretty sure this guy isn’t going to be held by a mirror.”

  I gestured toward the float.

  “I agree,” Sasmita said in a quiet voice from beside me. “He’s incredibly strong, more so than he has any right to be. I’m not even sure how he…exists.”

  “Joseph certainly left a lot of questions unanswered,” I murmured.

  Sasmita nodded. “We should stick together. There are too many of his demons, and so few of us. Our only chance is to remain close and cover for each other.”

  “As soon as we see the back of the float, let’s run,” I said.

  The monstrosity seemed less a float and more a tank the longer I stared at it.

  “I’ll hang behind just a little to fight the demons while you start heading up,” I added.

  “He will probably notice me as soon as I reach the top, so I’ll get his blood and you’ll need to be ready take over,” she said, and then added to Randall, “We will need the painting then, so get as close as you can with it and I’ll jump down and help get it up on the float while Safiya distracts him. Once we’re up there, I’ll open it and we can shove him inside.”


  “I’m not at all worried we are making this up on the fly,” Randall said, deadpan.

  I patted his shoulder twice.

  “Good. Because we have no time to test run anything.” As I lowered my hand, I gave Sasmita a sidelong look. “Ready?”

  She nodded, clearly much braver than I felt. I hunched forward a little and waited as the tail end of the float reached the intersection.

  Without a word, I bolted forward. Sasmita lagged behind and then pulled ahead, and I dropped back to give her space as she narrowed in on the back of the float.

  Several demons beside us swung around to face her and charged forward. I sucked up magic and held it in my hand as I barreled toward them, cutting them off from reaching her. My palm slammed into a demon’s stomach and I unleashed my magical wrath, which turned out to be more like a tantrum.

  He froze up, but when my magic blast ended, he blinked a few times. A snarl formed across his exposed mouth.

  In my peripheral, Sasmita climbed up the float, demons scurrying up behind her. One in front of me shot his hand out. I ducked, and then socked him in the stomach. He lurched forward. I turned and ran after the float as more demons swiveled their attention toward us.

  Fingers grabbed my arm, and I slammed my elbow back, catching the demon in the ribs. The hold released, and I jumped up to latch onto the center of a large decorative flower on the back of the float. My soles slid against the petals at the bottom as I hoisted myself up. Lifting my other arm, I wrapped my fingers into the eyehole of a tilted mask and worked my way upwards. A string of giant beads swung to my left, and I used them to prop me up a little farther.

  Above me, Sasmita had nearly made it to the top. Below and to the side, demons took the float with ease and dexterity. My arms shook and my feet continued to slip from their hold as I forced myself farther up. If I didn’t reach the top in time, Sasmita would be alone to defend herself from the oncoming demons as well as the mage.

  Gritting my teeth, I scrambled farther up until I could just reach the top surface. With a small groan, I shoved myself up, hooked my elbow on the top, and bore down. My other hand slapped the surface in front of me and I mustered all my core strength to pull myself over the edge right behind Sasmita.

  I had no idea how we were going to get that painting up here.

  Panting heavily, I staggered to my feet in time to see Sasmita yank her necklace free, pulling it from under her shirt. At the end swung a clear vial wrapped in metal vines, with a silver cap on each end. The bottom came to a sharp point.

  She stepped around one of the jester statues and I could barely make her out as she approached the back of the throne where the mage sat.

  Scuffling noises issued behind me. I spun around just as several demons reached the top. I kicked one in the face and stooped to shove him off. He growled, clawing at the top, but lost his footing and fell to the ground. Two more had already climbed up and approached from the side. I jerked around and slammed both palms into his chest, unleashing blue magic. He pulsed for a moment, and then staggered off balance. I swung at him, knocking him off the float as the other launched at me.

  He slammed into my stomach, my back ramming into the floor. He scrambled to tear at my face, but I grabbed both of his arms, one in each hand, and clenched my teeth as I shoved, hard. He didn’t budge. I powered up but didn’t hold it; instead, I let the magic course right through me. He froze, but I knew this wasn’t going to be enough to end him. They had gained endurance with their party masks, apparently.

  From the corner of my eye, blue lights flared from past the nearby jester heads. I could make out Sasmita’s legs as she ducked and skittered around, and the silhouette of the mage. He was standing, facing her.

  The demon on top of me swung his upper body back, yanking free, and then slammed forward. His face collided with mine, and flashes of light filled my vision as pain shot through my face. Before my sight recovered, I fumbled to clench his head between my hands. The jolt hadn’t been doing enough, so I switched to the tried and true. My palms became searing hot irons, and he struggled to pull away, snarling and slashing his hands at me. I used his momentum to shove him off, and he remained hunched on the ground, hissing.

  I scurried around a jester statue as Sasmita darted behind the mage. She lifted her vial and rammed it into the base of his head. He snarled, swinging around with his arm out. Before he made contact, green and purple light twisted together and punched her in the chest. She stumbled backwards, catching her hold on the pole where Randall had been strung up.

  The mage stormed toward her, powering up with gold magic collecting along one arm and hand.

  She needed to make her escape. I had to do something, anything. Without thinking, I ran up and sucker punched him in the small of his back.

  The mage slowly turned toward me, his magic dying. I couldn’t find my feet to back away, and then I was face to face with him. His black eyes latched onto me, and in them I could see everything he intended to do to draw out my death for the amusement of the onlookers below.

  Much like with Eliza Brown, I was not a threat. The real one was dead.

  I was just a mosquito to lazily swat.

  He lifted one finger, and it began to pulse purple and green.

  I ducked as a ribbon shot out from his hand like a snake striking. The air sizzled with a familiar burning electricity.

  The ribbons, the tentacles, they were all forms of the same damn magic.

  I spun around him and swung my elbow into the back of his knee. He didn’t even budge but turned to face me again. I straightened upright, aware I was no more than a foot from falling off the edge of the float. Noises behind me indicated Sasmita was making her way to the ground—or so I hoped. She needed to help Randall get the painting up here and then open it so I could put the mage away before he became bored and killed me.

  He raised both hands and flashed his fingers a few times. A glowing ball appeared in front of him.

  That was new.

  With a flick of his hands, the ball shot toward me. I tried to dodge it, but it sailed toward my feet. Right before it struck, I kicked, hard, volleying it off the float and toward the crowd. Demons scattered as the ball slammed into the asphalt and exploded in a burst of purple light. The flare cleared, revealing a crater.

  Grimacing at how poorly that could have ended, I spun back around to face the mage. I was still at the edge of the float.

  “Come on, guys,” I muttered, bracing for the mage’s next choice of sports, and then turned to him and said louder, “That really should have been a football. You’re in New Orleans, after all.”

  He tipped his head and rolled his eyes upwards to stare at me. He jutted out his hands as he prepared to unleash again.

  On the street below, chaos erupted. I dared a glance down as Randall and Sasmita lugged the portrait through the crowd, aiming for the float.

  The mage’s head jerked around to take in the scene. His upper lip curled back.

  “Get them,” he said in a dark raspy voice as if he had not spoken in years.

  Maybe he hadn’t.

  The demons swarmed forward, surrounding Randall and Sasmita. Randall dropped his end of the painting, and it was the first time I had seen the mage in his human form. He had been young, handsome when this portrait of him had been created, with dark eyes and hair and a beautiful natural tan. He wore an outer layer of a chlamys bordered in blue and gold. The plaque at the bottom of the portrait read Nikandros Remis.

  Randall yanked up a pole from the rubble. As the demons rammed forward, he swung wide and wild, fending them back in one direction. Sasmita released her end of the picture, and it clattered to the ground. She spun around and unleashed blue fire at the demons pushing in from her side. They reared back, but the retreat wasn’t going to last.

  The mage spun back to me, and this time, his eyes burned with centuries of loathing.

  He knew why we were here now. My moment for distractions had passed.

  I expected ano
ther ball of death to be lobbed at me. Before he could react, I shot forward, pulling up magic as I ran, blue light nipping at my heels. I slammed my palms into his chest, unleashing a jolt into him.

  His gaze lowered to his chest and then rolled back up to me.

  My magic hadn’t done a damn thing.

  That was the best trick I knew.

  A shudder ran up and down my spine as I realized just how unmatched I was. I had known it, but now I was in the fight and there was no escaping him. Not now that he knew why we were here. Not now that he knew we had the portrait.

  “Do it,” Randall yelled, and I jerked around to look at them. There was no way they could get that portrait up to the top of the float, but I did expect it to be open and waiting.

  Sasmita was desperately running her hands over the picture. Red light flashed and then disappeared. She kept trying, her face scrunched and her arms shaking.

  “It won’t open,” she yelled, her voice quivering. “I can’t open the portrait.”

  No. That can’t be.

  If Sasmita couldn’t open it, there would be no way to put him back. No way to return the mage to his prison.

  Now he knew. He knew us. He knew we had intended to stop him.

  In front of me, he squared his shoulders and stepped forward.

  I tried to take a step back, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. We were face to face, maybe a foot apart, on the corner of the float.

  Instead of slamming magic into me and ending it all, he stood stock still. He began to glow gold. The glow built and grew, pulsing and throbbing as waves of heat rolled off him.

  My body slacked and I could only watch as he powered up.

  If a mage of his caliber was drawing in magic, collecting it, the burst was not going to just be sizable.

  He was going nuclear.

  “Open it, Sasmita,” I said, but I couldn’t even raise my voice enough for her to hear. Not that it would do any good. She was trying, and she couldn’t get it.

  The mage’s pulsing grew increasingly faster.

  We were moments from detonation, from him wiping New Orleans and maybe the entire South off the map.