Good Witches Don't Steal (Academy of Shadowed Magic Book 4)

Home > Other > Good Witches Don't Steal (Academy of Shadowed Magic Book 4) > Page 9
Good Witches Don't Steal (Academy of Shadowed Magic Book 4) Page 9

by S. W. Clarke


  Eva bundled up her cloth and took to the air. She flew through the trees toward the central grounds, disappearing in a wink of lavender. I ran after her, feeling slow and heavy-footed.

  I had to be with the other guardians before they all went through. A shame I hadn’t actually been meant to ride a broom—that would have made my life a lot easier when I had to haul ass from one end of the grounds to the other.

  Meanwhile, the sound of the horn went on echoing through the forest. I had mixed feelings about it: on the one hand, I hated the thing and would be glad to never hear it again. On the other, a strange rush of dopamine and adrenaline flowed through me when it actually did sound, like I could finally act on the impulse I’d been feeling ever since I’d arrived back at the academy.

  Finally, our first rescue of the year.

  When I got to Umbra’s tree, she stood outside the double doors, surrounded by the other guardians. The humans were already on horseback, the fae hovering two or three feet in the air. Loki sat by Umbra.

  Good. Even Maise and Paxton had gotten saddled up and mounted, which boded well. They weren’t slouches.

  Clusters of students had gathered, watching from a distance. Some stood on landings, some sat on tree branches, some just stood clutching their satchels. That had been me, once.

  “Ah,” Umbra said on spotting me. “All our guardians are present. Make your connections, Clementine, and the rest of you prepare yourselves to pass through.”

  I broke into the group with my thumb out like I was offering a benediction. Without a word, I stamped Liara on the forehead, creating the magical connection. She did the same with me. The humans on horseback leaned down for me to reach them, each of us touching each other’s foreheads one by one. Then I moved on to the fae.

  They didn’t bother with their thumbs on my forehead; they couldn’t talk to me from this distance like I had been trained to do with them. It only went one-way.

  The moment I was done, Umbra had already raised Parity, set the tip of it at an angle in the air. The end of it glowed green as she did so, and she made a precise, slow cut through the veil.

  When she parted it, I could see Mexico on the other side. Could smell the salty sea air, feel the balminess.

  But I wouldn’t be passing through. I only stood aside as the fae swept through first, and then the guardians on horseback. And even then I was backing away with Loki, heading toward the guardians’ tree.

  I caught a glimpse of the last horse’s tail flicking through, and then Umbra lowered the parting, her eyes meeting mine. “Get to the globe,” she called. “They need you more than ever.”

  When I came to the empty guardians’ tree and ascended to the third floor, Loki raced ahead of me. I found him seated beneath the globe, staring back at me. “I’ve been waiting for ages.”

  “You’re joining me for this, huh?” I took up my spot in front of the globe, spinning it to the western coast of Mexico and zeroing in on Acapulco. As I did, my eyes traced to the nearest leyline, glowing golden on the map.

  It was uncorrupted, and it ran straight through the center of the city. That was what I would use to maintain my connection with the guardians.

  “Of course I am.” Loki stared up at the globe. “I’m as much a guardian as you are.”

  I seated myself, crossing my legs. “Then let’s do this thing.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The leylines streaked across the globe before me, some golden, some black. About half were dark—which seemed worse than when Umbra and I had sat before the globe just a few days ago.

  I had to find my way through them, keeping to the uncorrupted lines and tracing that thread of magic all the way to Acapulco, where the guardians were.

  My eyes closed, and I focused on the magic connecting me to them. As Umbra had trained me, I followed it through the leyline running past the academy, tracing its course through hills, valleys, over mountains, until it crossed paths with another leyline that would take me where I wanted to go.

  Sometimes I had to detour around the corruption. When I encountered it, I felt it like an oppressive darkness, both terrifying and alluring—and familiar, now that I had entered a corrupted leyline. One detour took me under the Atlantic Ocean, and I came out the other side in Florida. My magic traced through the leyline, rushing toward Acapulco.

  And when I arrived, I could feel them. I could feel all the guardians.

  Sweat had already broken out on my forehead and my spine. My breathing had quickened. This wasn’t just work—it was a combination of maintaining my connection in the midst of danger, of the adrenaline I’d been feeling since the horn had sounded.

  This was grueling.

  But I had managed to find my way to Acapulco. My eyes opened, and I saw the guardians on the globe before me. Nine green dots appeared at my wish, just like in the simulation. They moved down a street, small specks in the vastness of the world, and they were following three of the creatures, one of whom carried the seventeen-year-old boy.

  I knew, because two of the fae had eyes on the creatures from above.

  The rest of the guardians were two blocks behind, following the creatures, who were making for the ocean.

  “They’ve got maybe five minutes,” Loki said, observing the globe, “before the Shade’s monsters hit the water.”

  I nodded. The other guardians didn’t know this; they only had limited vision. Which was where I came in.

  The creatures are a half mile from the ocean, I said into Liara’s head. You’ve got just over four minutes at best. Send the chasers left down the first cross-street, then right at the next intersection. They can cut them off.

  And though Liara couldn’t respond with her own magic, I heard her voice as though it was right next to me, even though it was thousands of miles away. When she spoke, it ricocheted through the thread of my magic back to me. “Got it,” she breathed.

  Liara must have relayed my instructions into the others’ heads, because not five seconds later, the horseback guardians broke away in the exact direction I’d told them to go. Left down the cross-street, then right at the intersection.

  But the monsters went right, too, as though they’d sensed the guardians. Maybe they’d heard them.

  “Shit,” I whispered.

  I shifted my focus to the two fae who had eyes on the creatures: Elijah and Isaiah. When I concentrated my magic on Elijah, I didn’t hesitate—I went straight for his vision. I needed to see what was going on.

  And for a gleaming moment, a cityscape flashed into my head, brilliant and bright and vast. I gasped, and then it was gone.

  The strain was too much. Going for the eyes was on another level, as I’d learned during my training with Umbra and Liara. My magic retreated, exhausted, and I began to shake as I had out in the meadow.

  I was all but useless. And I wasn’t meant to sit here—I was meant to chase.

  On the globe, the creatures were keeping pace ahead of the guardians. And a second group of the creatures had appeared, at least six tailing them. Giving chase. Catching up.

  And here I was, functionally useless. Half-blind. I couldn’t properly see them, couldn’t hear them. The thread of magic had dissipated, and even if I wanted to, I didn’t have the strength anymore to give Liara instructions.

  Not without its help. I needed the Spitfire.

  So be it.

  Loki brushed up against me. “Clem.”

  I used what strength I had to push myself to my feet. “This isn’t going to work.” As the Spitfire uncoiled inside me, I headed down the stairs two at a time.

  I needed to get to Umbra.

  I sprinted to the stables, Loki on my tail, and threw open the half door. I ignored the quartermistress’s questions and went straight for Noir’s stall.

  He was ready, his head high, eyes wide.

  A minute later, I’d led him into the paddock and swung up onto his back. Loki leapt up to the edge of my cloak, climbing his way onto my shoulder. He knew better than to que
stion me right now.

  We galloped toward the clearing, where I had last seen Umbra—where she would be waiting for the guardians to return. When we came around the edge of the amphitheater, she stood facing me, her eyes already on us as the horse came galloping up. “Send me to them,” I said, breathless, coming to a stop directly in front of her.

  Her eyes tracked over the horse, then me, observing my exhaustion. “You couldn’t maintain the thread with your magic, and yet…you’re radiating with power.”

  “The thread won’t work,” I bit out, anger swelling in me. The Spitfire roiled. “They’re being chased. Send me.”

  “It’s not safe outside the grounds, child.”

  We were losing time. Noir was anxious to go, and he started into a walk. I urged him in a tight circle, keeping my eyes on Umbra. “You told me you’d never forbid me from leaving the grounds.”

  One eyebrow rose. “So I did.” Her eyes gleamed. “You’re ready, then?”

  There was something odd about that twinkle in her eyes, about the tone of her voice. Like she’d expected this moment to come. Like she’d never expected me to be able to withstand sitting here alone on the grounds, away from the action.

  But it was more than that. I had the distinct sense that she’d been testing my will. Because, after all, she had explicitly told me she’d never forbid me to leave the grounds. She’d only strongly advised against it.

  Years ago, when Umbra and I had first met, she’d told me my magic depended on my belief in myself. And while it was dangerous for me to leave the grounds, maybe she’d been waiting for this moment. The moment when I believed I could use the enshrouding magic she’d spent three months—every damn day for a whole summer—teaching me.

  The Spitfire flared inside me, thrilled. Eager. Ready to provide me with its power.

  I stared down at her, setting my jaw. “I’m ready.” And in the same moment, the invisible flames raced from my hands up my arms, encasing my entire body in one massive ripple of fire. Within a few seconds, it had spread to Loki and to Noir.

  We were fully enshrouded. It had been so easy when I let the creature inside me have its way. Just as it had been out on that lake in Siberia.

  I could use the enshroudment. I was ready, and probably had been for weeks. It just took this urgency to bring it out of me.

  Umbra gave a soft, respectful nod. “Well done, child. Well done.” She lifted Parity. “Very well. Keep your wits about you.”

  When she began to part the veil, she raised the tip of the staff high into the air, drawing it down from over seven feet up. She’d only barely finished the cut before I pressed Noir forward, ducking low to pass through the parting.

  In a second, we crossed from grass to asphalt, from daytime to nighttime. From safety to the witching hour.

  And all at once, I could feel them again. The guardians were half a mile away, on the move. The connection hadn’t been broken after all—it had only gone fallow.

  Loki perked. “I smell them. And the monsters. Lots of monsters.”

  “Great.” I pressed my heels into Noir’s side, and we broke into a gallop down the empty side street, made narrow by all the compact cards parked along it. We swerved left at the first intersection, then right at the next one, Noir navigating the streets with ease.

  Meanwhile, I focused my magic on Liara. I wanted to hear what she heard—and it was so much easier now. So little distance lay between us, and it felt even shorter with the Spitfire’s wildness surging through me.

  As soon as my magic entered her ears, I heard a scream.

  It was a horse’s scream. Somewhere nearby, hooves clattered in an awkward, jarring way.

  “Right at the next street,” Loki said.

  I swung Noir right, and two of the creatures came into view, rushing ahead of me, chasing the other guardians. They couldn’t see or hear us past the enshrouding enchantment, anyway.

  “Pairilis síoraí,” I whispered, and they both went completely still at the same time, stuck in place.

  We swept past them, leaving the creatures behind in their stasis.

  This time, I didn’t have to hear what Liara heard. In the sky above me, lightning cracked. She was in battle.

  “Take a left two blocks up,” Loki said.

  I followed his instructions, turning Noir left. When the street came into view, I finally found the guardians.

  They were surrounded at an intersection.

  Dozens of the Shade’s minions filled the street ahead, all of them in erratic motion. One leapt onto a car, threw itself at Paxton, who yanked up a wall of water and intercepted the creature just in time. The thing slammed into the shield of water, hit the ground…and promptly scrambled back up.

  One form of magic couldn’t take them out. That was a hard lesson I’d had to learn early on.

  Another crackle of Liara’s lightning illuminated the whole scene, driving up into the sky and revealing horses in frantic motion, water spraying, bits of earth being launched, and a tumble of wind through the street.

  Liara’s lightning pierced two creatures, but so many more filled in their ranks. I even spotted one flying—or maybe just leaping. Unless the reports of flying creatures were right.

  Why were the guardians so unorganized? They shouldn’t have gotten caught like this. Not after all the trouble we’d gone to to keep this from happening last spring.

  Then I saw her: Liara was on her back in the middle of it all. Only one of her arms was moving, and the other one lay limp. She was injured. Badly.

  “Clem,” Loki said.

  “I see her.”

  This rescue had been an absolute failure, and it needed to end. Quickly, before things got worse for them. I reached back, into the depths of my cloak, and retrieved the weapon.

  The Spitfire was ecstatic with bloodlust.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I gripped the weapon in both hands, riding only with my thighs as the quartermistress had taught me to do through so many months of barrel and trick riding.

  Bet she hadn’t expected this from the witch. Or maybe she had.

  The weapon’s power amplified my own, singing sweetly with the Spitfire, the two of them working in a strange and perfect concert, almost like they were meant to be.

  And I knew exactly what I needed to do.

  Liara, I said into the fae’s head. I’m here. Keep drilling them.

  Liara’s face turned, her eyes searching the darkness. When she didn’t find me, she returned to attention, lightning spearing from her one good hand.

  The chain hung long at Noir’s side, swept back by the wind as he galloped toward the scene. I drove my magic into each guardian’s head, giving them each the same instruction: When you see the fire, kill them.

  On that lake, fire riding had been the greatest challenge of my life. I’d had to give a small piece of myself away, inhabit the old anger I’d felt for so many years.

  And now that I’d given it away, it came easier. Faster.

  Between the creature inside me and the metal in my hand, I craved it—the power and the fury. And so, with one quick breath and my eyes briefly closed, it only took a moment to empower the enshrouding flames, to make them burn hot and hard.

  The Shade’s creatures would be able to see me, but not for long.

  The Spitfire enveloped me, the flames burning bright over me and the horse as we rushed in, trampling the creatures underfoot, setting them aflame.

  I sent my fire down the rod and the length of the chain, swinging it at them, lancing them one and two at a time if Noir’s hooves didn’t get them. We made an arc around the intersection, lighting the whole place up, and around me, the other three elements surged.

  And I kept riding, kept swinging, kept burning until I was certain I’d gotten every single one of the bastards.

  Until Eva’s voice called, “Clem, stop!”

  It took gargantuan effort even to acknowledge what she’d said, to process it. And inside me, the Spitfire hissed, More. More.
More.

  But though the flames in front of me, I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see any more. I only saw Maise’s face appear in front of me, her eyes wide and wild with fear.

  The Spitfire hissed words into my head—ones my conscious mind refused to acknowledge. They were killing words. Make her pay for getting in your way.

  But from somewhere deep inside me, Rational Clem clawed her way toward the surface. It’s Maise, she said. She’s human. She’s your friend.

  Maise. I shouldn’t hurt Maise.

  I drew my grip back on Noir’s mane, brought him to a skidding halt with the weapon aloft, the chain swinging with flame. My arm shook with the restraint it took to avoid slinging the chain at her, slicing her in half as I had with the Shade’s minions twenty seconds ago.

  Maise’s horse danced away across the wreckage in the intersection, head jerking at the sight and sound of the flaming witch and her steed.

  As Rational Clem came to the fore and my fire began to ebb, the real world returned to view, all the colors that weren’t red and white and orange and yellow. Well, not just those colors. Because, as I looked around, I realized the whole intersection was on fire, a big ring of it that was starting to burn low as my magic seeped away.

  Eva’s lavender hair glinted in the moonlight as she landed in the street, and Siren’s dappled gray coat gleamed, and the brown of the earth that Akelan had yanked up lay in a spread all around.

  I half-slumped on Noir’s back; I couldn’t get a proper breath. With the Spitfire gone, I had no energy left.

  “Clem,” Loki whispered from my shoulder, “hide the weapon.”

  I realized with a start I was still holding it, and now I was visible to the whole world. Before I did anything else, I extinguished the flame and replaced it in the tangibly manipulated pocket inside my cloak.

  Then I led Noir over to everyone else.

  Eva knelt by Liara, helping her up. Paxton came around on his horse and Elijah and Isaiah helped lift her up to sit with Paxton. Liara slumped, her eyes half-shut. That was rare for her; she never showed what she considered to be weakness if she could help it.

 

‹ Prev