Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker Book 1)

by Linsey Hall

  “Do we have other powers we can use?” Del asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. If it was about me directly, I couldn’t seem to remember. “FireSouls can be other types of supernaturals as well. You both feel magical to me.”

  Nix closed her eyes. I felt her power surge against me like water lapping at my skin. The taste of vanilla burst on my tongue, and her flower scent filled my nose. Her hands began to glow. She cupped them in front of her.

  Eventually, a small match appeared in her palms.

  “You’re a conjurer,” I said as my power swelled within me.

  “Not a very good one,” Nix said. “I wanted to conjure a fire for warmth.”

  I listened with half an ear as the power in my chest grew. It felt like it was in response to hers, spurred on by what she had. I embraced it, though I didn’t understand it, and held my arms out. The magic pulsed within me, roaring to be released. I raised my palms to the sky and let it go.

  An enormous fireball shot from my palms, throwing me back onto the ground as it roared into the sky. It burned away the tops of the trees and exploded into the night. Orange flames surged through the air, burning my skin.

  Panic rose in my chest as I scrambled to my feet. We were trapped. Del and Nix looked at me with horrified eyes.

  “I don’t know what happened!” I said. The sky above me continued to burn, though the forest around us was untouched. “People will see the flame! We have to hide!”

  Del lunged for me. She enveloped me in her arms and grabbed Nix, pulling her into the hug. A second later, the ground fell out from under me.

  We collapsed to the ground a moment later. It was colder here, the wind stronger. I climbed to my feet. We were on a mountain looking down on the field below. Fire roiled in the air above it, a beacon of magic. But at least it wasn’t lower. The animals and the people would be safe.

  “We were in a valley,” I said as I turned to Del. “And you can transport.”

  Del’s wide eyes met mine. “Apparently. It was instinct. I followed it. And thank magic for it. What did you do down there?”

  I looked down at the field that was lighting up the night. It would draw people. We were fine on the mountain for a little while because we were so far away, but we needed to get out of here soon.

  “I didn’t mean to light it all on fire,” I said. “When Nix conjured the match, I felt like I could create a match too. So I let my power out.”

  “You’re a Mirror Mage,” Nix said. “You borrowed my conjuring power.”

  “A strong one,” Del said.

  “Too strong. I couldn’t control it.”

  Mirror Mages weren’t rare or very dangerous, from what I recalled. They could reflect back the magic of any supernatural that they were with. But it was just temporary, and the other supernatural got to keep their powers the whole time. From what I remembered, if Mirror Mages didn’t use the borrowed gift right away, they could use it later. But it was a one shot deal. I could have held on to the conjuring gift I’d borrowed from Nix, but I’d only have been able to use it once.

  In a way, Mirror Mages were a tiny bit like FireSouls because they used the powers of others. But they weren’t very dangerous because they couldn’t keep the magic or replicate it more than once.

  I turned toward the valley. The fire was starting to dissipate, but it was still an unnatural spectacle, the sky alight with flame.

  “I could have killed us if I hadn’t pointed my hands to the sky,” I whispered. “I’m dangerous.”

  “I think you need to practice,” Del said.

  “Or not use my power at all.” Tears pricked at my eyes. Why was I like this?

  “Let’s not worry about that now,” Nix said. “We should get out of here. Let’s find food and shelter.”

  I nodded and blinked the tears away. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  We set off along the mountain ridge, following the magical string tied around our waists. I was tired and scared, but at least I had my deirfiúr. My sisters.

  But as I walked, the most horrible thought occurred to me. Had I been born a Mirror Mage, or had I killed someone for this gift?

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ten Years Later

  Temple of Murreagh

  Deep Beneath Western Ireland

  “Cass! Answer me, damn it. Are you hurt?” Nix’s voice echoed quietly from the pendant around my neck.

  “Gimme a sec,” I wheezed as I shoved the huge rock off my leg and scrambled behind a big boulder. Pain radiated from my shin, but nothing felt broken, thank magic. I didn’t have time to deal with it anyway. A nasty looking shadow demon was currently trying to blow my head off. As long as my limbs were mostly functional, I was good to go.

  A blast of magic blew apart the stone over my head.

  I ducked and rubble bounced off my shoulders.

  Damn demon!

  When it stopped, I peered over the boulder at the demon who guarded the altar in the middle of the underground temple. It’d taken me nearly six hours to get through the enchantments that led to the temple. Fire charms, moving rocks, an awful riddle—the whole lot. Real Indiana Jones stuff, but I didn’t have the cool hat.

  After all that, it seemed like it should be smooth sailing. But no, this treasure was protected by a shadow demon. Who was apparently very displeased with my presence.

  His skin was dark gray, his powerful body clad in simple pants and a shirt. He was basically human-shaped, except for the exceptionally bulky arms and the narrow black horns that came out near his temples and ran back along his skull. Dark eyes glinted maniacally through the dust in the air.

  Though big, he was dwarfed by the subterranean temple that housed the Chalice of Youth, my current assignment. The chalice sat on an altar behind the demon, gleaming gold. Graceful columns supported the soaring stone ceiling, each carved in the shape of a different long-forgotten goddess. The only light came from eerie torches that lined the walls. The air was stagnant, permeated by the scent of smoke that wafted from the shadow demon.

  “Do I send backup?” Nix asked through static.

  “No. I’ve got this.” I didn’t usually need my friends to step in and save my butt on a job, but it gave me the warm fuzzies to know they were willing. “You’re breaking up, Nix. Too much magic from the demon. I’m turning you off now.”

  Strong magic, like the kind the demon was throwing, usually interfered with the comms charm that hung around my neck. Something about the magical signature overpowering the puny charm that fueled my necklace.

  I usually worked alone, but sometimes—okay, always—a riddle enchantment stumped me. At that point, Nix was there to back me up via a quick call through my comms charm. But now that she’d gotten me through the riddle that had opened the main door to this temple—Why does a dragon cross the road?—I no longer needed her help.

  “Fine, don’t—” More static broke up Nix’s voice.

  “If I’m not out in an hour, remember that I hate lilies,” I said. “Worst funeral flower.”

  “But—”

  I touched the silver charm around my throat, and its magic went dormant. Only the sound of the shadow demon’s breathing echoed in the chamber.

  It was time to get this over with. I was starving, and this was my last gig before the long weekend. My leg screamed as I pushed myself to my feet. Breathe through the pain. It’s just bruising.

  I drew my obsidian blades from the sheaths strapped to my thighs and stepped out from behind the boulder. Torchlight reflected wickedly off the black volcanic glass. Lefty and Righty, I called them—not nearly regal enough names for their power—but I’d never been good at clever names.

  “Time to go back to hell, fella,” my voice echoed in the stone chamber. “The devil says he’s missin’ ya.”

  The shadow demon laughed, his dark gray skin absorbing the light. Fine, it was a little corny, but I was tired.

  The demon raised his hand to throw another blast of magic at me. I flung Righty at him, dodging
the whoosh of magic that he managed to get off before my blade sunk into his arm.

  Perfect hit. Ten points.

  He roared in pain as heat seared my shoulder through my leather jacket.

  Oh, so he wanted to play that way? With heat as well as wind? I thought wistfully of blasting him back with a reflection of his own power. His magic manifested as burning smoke. I’d give him a flaming tornado.

  Except that was the problem. My magic was too powerful for me to control. I just blew shit up if I tried. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, so I didn’t use my power. But I didn’t hide that I was a Mirror Mage—strong supernaturals could tell I had magic. If I didn’t use it often, my magical signature appeared weak to those strong enough to sense others’ powers.

  So I’d gotten really good with weapons.

  I pricked the back of my hand with Lefty before immediately throwing the blade at the demon’s heart. My blood ignited a spell that would call its twin back to me.

  As Lefty hurtled toward the demon, Righty pulled itself out of the demon’s arm and flew through the air toward me. As long as I was quick—which I usually was—I always had a dagger at hand.

  I reached up and snagged Righty as I kept an eye on the dagger that zoomed toward the demon. He used magic to blast it away.

  “That’s all you’ve got?” he roared.

  I dove behind the nearest column, a stone warrior woman in a flowing cloak, both of her hands gripping swords.

  A guardian. Of me, I decided.

  I swiped my dagger over the small amount of blood welling on the back of my hand so that my other blade returned to me.

  The demon roared again, his muscles bulging beneath his thin shirt as he drew his arms back to throw twin blasts of magic at me. All supernaturals had different gifts and his seemed to be throwing blazing blasts of smoke that blew things apart like a grenade.

  The smoke blast hit my guardian column. Her bottom half blew apart, rock and debris flying across the temple. With an enormous cracking sound, the guardian crashed to the ground. The stone floor vibrated beneath my feet. Dust filled the air until I could hardly see.

  Guilt ate at me over the damage done to such an ancient place. Don’t worry about that now. Fix it later. I jumped onto the guardian, who was now lying on the ground in several large pieces, all lined up in a row. I raced across her skirt, jumping from piece to piece until I was right above the shadow demon.

  I leapt for him.

  He looked up at the last moment, his eyes widening. He twisted and Lefty sank into his meaty shoulder. With a roar, he threw me off him. I skidded across the floor, then groped my way behind the top of the fallen column. He was strong, both in magic and form, and his magic smelled ancient. Like dust. I’d bet he was an old demon.

  “Blades?” he yelled. “You come at me with blades? Use your magic and give me a real fight!”

  “What? You bored? Been guarding this tomb a long time, eh?” I said as I flung Righty at him.

  It sank into his chest, nearly a perfect shot at his heart. Or at least, where I figured a shadow demon’s heart might be.

  He yanked it out and said, “You have no idea.”

  I swallowed hard.

  Missed his heart, I guess.

  Quickly, before he could fling the dagger, I called it back to me. Righty pulled itself out of the demon’s hand and flew home.

  The demon didn’t startle, nor did he look weakened by the dark blood leaking from the wound in his chest. Old and strong, like I’d thought. Even if I hadn’t hit his heart, he should at least be incapacitated. But this one was different. He wasn’t even winded from the blade that had sunk six inches into his chest.

  “Well? Won’t you give me a real fight? You are one of the three. Strong enough to fight, but you don’t.”

  My heart tried to climb into my throat. “What does that mean?”

  The three? Did he mean me and my deirfiúr? How could he know about Del and Nix?

  “What do you mean?” I screamed when he didn’t answer quickly enough.

  “You don’t use your powers.” He threw another blast of magic at me. Blazing smoke blasted away my column barricade, and I scrambled back.

  He wouldn’t use his powers either if it meant getting locked up in the Prison for Magical Miscreants. As long as I didn’t use them, I could pretend that I was nothing but a low-strength Mirror Mage and have a lovely life where no one tossed me in prison.

  The shadow demon threw another blast of fiery smoke. It plowed into the ground in front of me. The stone floor exploded. The blast threw me backwards. Pain streaked through me. My entire front felt singed, pierced by small pieces of shattered stone. A cough tore through my lungs and I blinked blindly, my throat and eyes burning.

  I could barely see, and he kept throwing those damned blasts of smoke at me, driving me ever backward. I just had to get him to lay off for a sec. Then I could question him.

  Through the dust, I could make out his hulking form approaching. It was risky, but I threw each of my blades in quick succession, hoping to incapacitate but not kill.

  The thud of a body collapsing sounded. The blasts of power stopped coming.

  I climbed to my feet and limped toward the form sprawled on the ground. The stone bit into my knees when I dropped beside him. My blades protruded from his chest, one embedded in each pectoral. His breath strangled in and out of his lungs, but he wasn’t dead. I grasped his rough shirt and shook him.

  “What do you know about me?” I said.

  “What”—he coughed—“you are.”

  “But—”

  His lips parted, and I snapped my mouth shut, frantic to hear what he had to say.

  “FireSoul.”

  I stumbled back, my stomach twisting. Chills raced over me. How could he know that? No one knew that but my deirfiúr.

  “I’m a Mirror Mage.” My voice came out hardly louder than a whisper. I tried again, louder, fear choking my throat. “I’m a Mirror Mage!”

  Panic welled in me, and I crawled back to him, reaching for his shirt again, desperate to shake answers from him.

  His eyes were dimming, their gleaming black light turning a dark gray. A great breath shuddered out of his lungs, followed by stillness.

  The light faded from his eyes, and his body disappeared. My blades, no longer embedded in a chest, clattered to the floor.

  “No!”

  My heart threatened to break my ribs. I hit the ground, frustration and fear beating in my chest.

  The demon was gone. Not dead—you couldn’t really kill a demon—just send them back to whatever hell they’d originally come from. Normally very neat and tidy. Except this one had information about me, and my blades had been too accurate. The demon had seemed so strong when my first blade had found its mark. I’d wanted to question him more. This was what happened when I freaked out. Like a bull in a china shop. And it was the main reason I could never use my magic.

  My breath echoed too loudly in my ears. Think, think. How could the demon have known that I was a FireSoul? Was it because this job was in Ireland, my homeland? At least, what I assumed was my homeland, given that I could speak Irish and had red hair.

  One option was so terrifying I couldn’t even poke it with my mind. It was the bogeyman that lurked at the corner of my memories. Whenever I pressed too hard, it leapt up, bringing with it a splitting headache and adrenaline like nobody would believe.

  I had to get out of there. Talk to Nix.

  Quickly, I grabbed my blades, shoved them into their sheaths, then climbed to my feet. I limped to the altar, pain singing up my leg, and grabbed the golden chalice. It’s magic sang beneath my palm, an unsteady beat that indicated this was old magic. The perfect age for selling. There were other priceless objects too, no doubt tributes to the gods carved onto the columns.

  My fingers itched to pocket a couple, namely a golden dagger encrusted with rubies and a strange hexagonal blade that looked wickedly sharp on all sides. Despite my terror, covet
ousness surged within me. My hand trembled as I reached toward the golden dagger. Just one touch. I wouldn’t take it.

  No.

  I sucked in a deep breath and clenched my fist. Not mine. Not mine. Like an addict resisting a fix, I dragged my gaze away from the glitter.

  With a shaking hand, I pulled a small black rock out of an inner jacket pocket. My last transport charm. Like all magic that wasn’t my own, they were expensive and hard to come by. Del could make them because she could transport, but her power was limited and they commanded a lot of it, so she couldn’t make them often.

  I should use the charm only in emergencies.

  But this sure felt like a heck of an emergency.

  I threw the stone to the ground. It shattered and a glittering silver cloud rose in front of me. I stepped into the sparkling stuff and envisioned my home. Magic grabbed me around the waist and threw me through the ether.

  Click here to get Ancient Magic.

  Author’s Note

  Hey, there! I hope you enjoyed reading Magic Undying as much as I enjoyed writing it. In addition to being a writer, I’m also an archaeologist. This influences my books enormously and is why so many of them have scenes set at historic sites. I try to stay as true to history as I can, but sometimes I have to fiddle with things to make a more entertaining story. If you’re interested in reading about what I borrowed from history and what I modified, read on. At the end, I’ll talk a bit about why Del and her deirfiúr are treasure hunters and how I try to make that fit with archaeology’s ethics (which don’t condone treasure hunting, as I’m sure you might have guessed).

  Magic Undying is particularly full of history and myth, even for one of my books. I chose to go with a Guinevere, Merlin, and King Arthur theme after talking to my friend Melly about Tintagel Castle. I visited a few years ago and loved it, but I missed Merlin’s Cave, which Melly highly recommended. When it came time to send Del to a cool location, Tintagel Castle and Merlin’s Cave popped right to mind. Which, of course, led me down the path to the myths surrounding King Arthur.

  As I mentioned in the book, there are many stories surrounding King Arthur and his compatriots. According to British folklore, he was a hero who may have defended Britain against Saxon invasion in the late fifth and early sixth centuries AD, though historians still aren’t sure if he was real.