by Linsey Hall
“I’ve seen this before,” I said. “In Myanmar. The piles of rock down there used to be towers. You jump across them, but if you don’t know the pattern, they collapse.” I squinted down into the pit. “I don’t see any bodies. Maybe they were demons. Or they made it across.” I hoped they hadn’t.
Aidan rubbed a hand over his chin. “I’ll take us across.”
“You? As in, griffon you? I thought shifters didn’t like carrying people.”
“Normally, we don’t.” His gaze met mine. “But you’re an exception.”
There was something in his gaze that made me nervous. In a good way. More anticipation than nerves.
It was heat, I realized.
And I liked it.
I swallowed hard, then glanced down at the pit. It was a bad idea to ride on Aidan’s back. I knew it was. It wasn’t like I had a thing for griffons or anything. That’d be way weird. But I was starting to accept that I had a thing for Aidan.
It wasn’t the physical part of riding a shifter that was intimate. It was the connection. They were willingly letting you into their magic sphere. It was intangible, but you got to know them better. Like a window into their magic and their mind.
But we didn’t have time to climb down. We had to reach whoever was ahead of us before they got the scroll.
“Unless you want to use your gifts and shift with me?” he asked.
Oh, crap. If I did that, I’d probably turn into the biggest, most powerful griffon ever. Then fall out of the air because I couldn’t use my wings.
Not good.
“I’m too weak to shift. I can mirror other magic, but not shifting.” At least it was true that shifting was harder. I’d tried to turn into a house cat once. It hadn’t been pretty.
I pasted a smile onto my face. “I’ll take you up on that ride. We need to catch up to whoever is here.”
His dark gaze snared mine. I forced myself not to look away.
“I don’t think I believe you,” he said. “But that’s for another day.”
I tried to control the shuddery breath of nervous relief that escaped me. “Okay, let’s do this.”
In a flash of silvery gray light, Aidan transformed into an enormous griffon. His coat shined gold in the light of the flame overhead. It glinted off his enormous, powerful wings. I’d bet it took a lot of magic to keep a flame going while not in human form.
My fingers itched to touch the silken feathers that covered his wings, and I clenched my fists. I met his black gaze, trying to figure out if I could see Aidan inside him. His great beak sent a shiver of fear through me. It could crush my chest like a twig. So could his claws, which were huge and spiked.
I’d once thought dragons had to be the scariest mythical creature. I’d been wrong. It was griffons.
And I was damn glad this one was on my side.
For now, at least.
Griffon-Aidan knelt before me so I could climb onto his back. His fur was soft and warm—hot almost—and I scrambled up on top of him.
A sense of power rushed over me, as if I were being enveloped in his magical strength. It felt like my memories of using my own power. I’d cut myself off from that for so long that I’d forgotten how good it felt the few times I’d used it. Like I was in control of my life and could do anything.
Life right now was all about rolling with the punches—many of which landed. If I had my own power, I could control my destiny. I could take what I wanted. Be what I wanted.
But this was just a connection with his power. It wasn’t my own.
It could be, though. I could unleash what was within me and mirror what he had. I could also have this strength. I had more than enough inherent power to mirror his magical gifts—more, if the legends about FireSouls are true. With practice, FireSouls could manipulate the gifts we stole, becoming the strongest of that gift. An ArchMage or ArchSorcerer of that gift.
Oh, that would feel good.
But I hadn’t ever practiced my magic. The few times it had blasted out of me, I’d caused some serious damage. I couldn’t do that again. Nor could I be caught. I’d put my deirfiúr at risk. And myself.
So I embraced the feeling of being connected to Aidan. I breathed in the forest scent of his magic as he pushed off from the ground and swept up into the air. The ground fell away beneath us as his powerful wings carried us toward the center of the cavern. The wind tore at my hair and clothes. Exhilarating.
But the best part was Aidan. It was like I could feel inside his mind. Not read his thoughts, but his feelings. His intentions. His aura.
I was enveloped in a sense of commitment. Loyalty and honor. All the good things people say when they talk about a hero. But it was more complex than that. He was more complex, but I couldn’t put my finger on how. I was too distracted by the feeling of his power embracing me.
I tried to focus on my surroundings—on the eerie orange rocks flying by beneath me—instead of how good it felt to be with Aidan like this.
It was hard not to focus on his power and strength. I wanted to study it. Absorb it.
When he touched down on the other side, I scrambled off as fast as I could. I could hardly catch my breath and stumbled.
“Damn.” I wasn’t normally so clumsy. Being sure on my feet was key to surviving my job.
A strong hand caught my shoulder and steadied me. I turned. Aidan was already human again, a testament to his strength. So were the clothes. He never appeared naked like some shifters.
“Are you all right?” His deep voice washed over me like a warm ocean wave. His dark eyes met mine.
“Yeah. Just the flying.” Liar.
He pulled me closer and my skin sparked. But it wasn’t his magic. It was just him making me lose my mind. It was becoming hard to breathe.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low, his gaze hot. He loomed over me.
I nodded but couldn’t speak.
His gaze dropped to my lips.
Oh no, was he going to kiss me?
His lips looked so good—full and warm.
Do it.
His forest scent wrapped around me, drawing me closer. His magic caressed me, stroking over my skin like silk. When his big hand squeezed my shoulder lightly, I leaned into it, relishing his strength.
His power surged, as if he liked me leaning on him. He was a predator—of course he liked it when his prey gave in.
The thought shocked me into action. I pulled away. Not only was this a bad idea, we weren’t the only ones here.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Whoever came before us is probably already in the tomb.”
He pulled me to him. “You wanted that too.”
The desire surged again, making my breath come short. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“A kiss.” His husky voice sent a shiver across my skin.
“I didn’t.”
He grinned. He was so handsome I almost hated him. How was I supposed to resist that? Especially after everything I’d felt while we were flying?
“Liar,” he said “But you’re right. Now isn’t the time.”
“Never is the time.” I spun and raced toward the exit, eyeing the ground in front of me for anything suspicious. Normally I didn’t run through enchanted places like this unless I had to, but whoever came before us would have probably tripped any enchantments, so I took the risk.
Once again, the tunnel was an exit. I hoped like hell that the next cavern was our destination.
Aidan was close behind me, but even his forest-fresh scent couldn’t drown out the smell of rotten fish in the air. It was getting stronger. The lightstone illuminated carvings on the tunnel walls, even more than before. We were getting closer. I couldn’t look carefully as I ran, but I could make out writing, maps, images. Weird.
A chill in the air washed over me, more than the normal cold. The smell of ice and snow froze my nose.
“You feel that?” Aidan asked.
“Yeah.” And it was disturbingly familiar. Fear hit me, aci
d and sharp. “Phantoms.”
Silvery light drifted out from the walls, coalescing into the ghostly forms of men draped in cloaks. More monks? They shimmered so that it was hard to make out their features, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t need to see them—they only needed to see you.
“Try to protect your mind,” I said, as I ran faster. “You can’t fight Phantoms. They create nightmares inside your head.”
Second to being tossed in the Prison for Magical Miscreants, I was most afraid of Phantoms. I tried to build a steel cage around my mind as I ran, but I knew it wouldn’t work. There were too many. They stood along the tunnel walls on either side, stretching as far as my eye could see.
“Intruders,” they whispered.
“Thieves,” they hissed.
“FireSoul.”
They reached out with silvery hands, clawing for me but not leaving their place at the wall. Phantoms couldn’t touch you, but they didn’t need to. The pain hit me as they went for my mind. The cold tendrils of their dark magic reached inside my head, weaseling through my brain. I stumbled as the pain pierced me like an icepick through the eye.
They were going for my worst memories, but they didn’t know that those were hidden from me by the pain that welled every time I tried to uncover them. My stomach lurched at the torture, and I nearly vomited as they pushed harder inside my head. I stumbled to my knees. Aidan’s big hands lifted me to my feet. He started to pick me up, but even through my pain, my stubbornness surged.
I took care of myself or I wasn’t Cass Clereaux. I didn’t know my past self—I wasn’t about to lose my present self as well. Sweat dampened my skin as I ran, trying to get past the Phantoms as quickly as possible.
The worst of the pain was fading as the Phantoms abandoned my memories in favor of my fears. An image of my deirfiúr being thrown into the Prison for Magical Miscreants tore through my mind. The cell was dank and dark and the iron bars thick.
Horror lurched in my belly, but at least the pain had faded enough that I could run. If I’d slowed, I knew that Aidan would have thrown me over his shoulder.
My lungs burned as we raced down the corridor, our feet pounding on the stone. The rancid air that I sucked into my lungs tasted foul, but I needed it. Even Aidan’s breathing sounded loud beside me.
Darkness loomed ahead, and gratitude welled within me. No glowing silver light meant no more Phantoms lining the walls.
We burst through into a small, dark chamber and stumbled to a halt, panting.
“Why did they keep saying traitor?” Aidan asked, leaning on his knees.
I glanced up at him from my similar position. “Your worst memories or your greatest fears. It’s their weapon.”
I wondered if being a traitor was his worst memory or his greatest fear, but he was silent. I was just grateful he hadn’t heard them saying FireSoul. Only I had heard that. Phantoms didn’t speak the way humans did—they just reflected your fears back at you, using your mind. Though it was hell to be around them, I didn’t have to worry about them spreading my secret because they didn’t communicate normally.
“I’d bet the phantom monks built this place when they were alive,” I said. “When they died, they stuck around as phantoms to protect it.”
“What, they were a rival holy order that stole the scroll?”
“Yeah, maybe. All the carvings on the walls back there—that was just a compilation of collected knowledge. Maps, drawings, writing. Maybe they heard about the scroll and wanted to add it to their collection.”
“So they stole it from the Irish monks.” He nodded. “Makes sense.”
“I think we’re in an antechamber,” I said as I looked around the room. It was dark and nearly empty. Two stone benches lined either wall, and there was a huge wooden door ahead of us.
I drew my daggers, then glanced at Aidan. He had no weapons—but then, he didn’t need them. I approached the door.
“Ready?” I asked Aidan.
He nodded and I pushed open the left door.
“Ohh damn,” I breathed.
Soaring shelves piled high with treasure filled the cavernous space. Gold, ivory, and precious stones blinked at me. Weapons and dishes and books and jewelry made from every precious substance known to man filled the enormous room. Covetousness surged within me. These weren’t my usual treasures, but I could make space in my trove. I could clear out the leather jackets and books and fill it with everything that sparkled in this wonderland.
A terrifying roar startled me out of my stupor. I jumped. Beside me, Aidan had changed into a griffon, his wings and fur as golden as the treasures around me.
When I looked back at the room, I saw the demons for the first time. I’d missed them because of the gold. They scaled every shelf, crawling like giant spiders searching for something, though they had the normal number of limbs. There were more than a dozen of them, and all were man-shaped and dark gray. Were they looking for the scroll too?
Had to be. These were the individuals that Aidan’s seer had prophesied to be looking for the scroll.
One turned and threw a blast of burning smoke at Aidan, who dodged it in mid-air.
Holy magic, they were shadow demons. Like the one who’d called me a FireSoul just the other day. I hadn’t been sure if the ones on the monks’ island were the same because they hadn’t thrown smoke. Just looking similar didn’t make them the same. But the smoke throwing sure as heck did.
Coincidence?
No way. I’d gone my whole life without someone calling me out on what I was. Now I’d seen them three times. Too many times to ignore.
They all had to die.
I charged into the room as Aidan launched himself into the air. His wings beat powerfully as he soared to the top of the shelves and pulled the demons off with his front claws. He tore them apart, a gruesome but efficient job.
The thud of bodies sounded around me.
There were three demons on the ground and they all turned to me. Mine. I flung Righty at one. It sunk deep into his neck. I called the blade back as the demon fell, then turned to another.
Just in time to see him pick up a golden orb that sat alone on a majestic pedestal in the middle of the room. It was the only piece of treasure not on a shelf.
He lifted it and aimed at Aidan.
“No!” I shouted.
The number one rule in tomb raiding—never, ever pick up something that sits alone on a pedestal. It always sets off a booby trap, and it’s almost always of the giant rock variety. Hadn’t he seen Indiana Jones?
‘Course not. He was a demon. And now we were screwed.
A crack streaked across the ceiling like lightning. Aidan hovered in the air beneath, going for a demon that clung to one of the tall shelves. A second later, a boulder fell from the ceiling. Then another, straight onto Aidan. It hit him in the shoulder, knocking him out of the air.
His huge form plummeted, thudding to the ground. Rocks crashed around him. He didn’t get up.
No! He was going to be crushed to death.
My magic flared to life. Blindly, I reached out for his gift, terrified.
I was risking my life for his, but I couldn’t stop myself. If I didn’t bring this whole place down with my uncontrollable power, he could figure out what I was.
I opened myself up to his magic, not even trying, and it crashed into me. Like the waves I’d heard when I’d first met him, it swamped me. Power flooded my senses, making my skin tingle and my head buzz. I grasped with my mind, trying to sort through the myriad of gifts that were now at my disposal. Fire, water, wind, rock. He could control them all.
I didn’t know what to do—I’d never practiced—so I went on instinct. I dropped my knives and threw my hands out toward the falling rock, envisioning them flying away from Aidan. I poured everything into it, my will and hope and determination.
The rocks hurtled horizontally through the air, diverting themselves from the griffon. Boulders plowed into the walls, causing even more damage than they
would have if they’d fallen, but at least Aidan was alive.
Sweat poured down my face as I kept up the stream of power. Breath burned in my lungs.
Finally, the rocks stopped falling. I dropped my hands and bent over, panting. Fortunately, we were inside a mountain, so the battered walls would still hold. I’d destroyed some of the bookshelves and hoped the scroll had been on one.
I only had a second to recover. It wasn’t enough. Using that much magic was draining. I’d forgotten about the surviving demons. One plowed into my middle, throwing me to the ground.
Though I tried to fight back, I was weak from using my power.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aidan rise to his feet. He launched into the air again, swooping down to pull the demon off me.
I scrambled up, more awkward than I’d ever been, and grabbed my blades. Another demon jumped out at me from behind a pile of rubble. Startled, I flung Righty at him. My arm was so weak that my aim was way off. It sunk into his shoulder, and he crashed to his back. I limped to him and straddled him, then grabbed the dagger plunged into his shoulder and twisted.
“What do you know?” I panted.
His black eyes met mine, and he just stared at me, as if the pain didn’t affect him at all.
A blast of burning smoke slammed into me. I crashed to the ground beside the demon. He pulled my dagger from his chest, then scrambled up and toward the figure who’d blasted me.
I grabbed my blade and flung it at him. He collapsed. I staggered to my feet. Fates, I was so weak!
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Aidan tearing apart the demon who’d blasted smoke.
Good.
I swiped Lefty across the cut on the back of my hand, and Righty yanked itself out of the demon’s chest, returning to me. I spun, looking for more prey.
The last demon stood in front of the soaring bookshelves.
I blinked. It wasn’t a demon. It was a man. A Magica of some kind. I hadn’t noticed him earlier, but he was definitely not a demon. I threw Righty at him. It sank into his shoulder.
Damn it! I was so tired I couldn’t even throw straight.
I called the blade back to me. As it was pulling itself from his shoulder, he dug something out of his pocket and hurled it to the ground. A puff of glittering silver smoke wafted up, and he stepped into it.