Eternal Magic

by C. N. Crawford

  Ursula’s mind raced through possibilities. “Maybe Abrax conjured a giant golem.”

  “Maybe.” Bael crouched in the tunnel, a sword in one hand and an orb floating just above the other. “Whatever it is, it can’t get in. The wards on this place are too strong.”

  As if on cue, the hammering sound stopped. The tunnel fell silent, with only the sound of their breath and the beating of their hearts. The onyx stone glimmered in the darkness.

  Dread rippled up Ursula’s spine. “Something’s happening.” Slowly, she approached the stone. The air around it flickered and shimmered like sand under a desert sun. She could feel heat on her face.

  “Bael. We need to move the boulder.”

  “What are you talking about.?”

  Ursula pressed her hands against the stone. Though the stone was black as a starless sky, putting her hands against it felt like touching Emerazel’s inferno. She pushed, and slowly it rolled to the side. Fire licked around its edges, smoke billowing.

  “It’s me, Ursula!” she shouted.

  The flames died down, and when the smoke cleared, she stared at the reptilian head of the Drake.

  Chapter 41

  They sat on the platform near the entrance to Bael’s chambers, watching the few remaining oneiroi as they worked to clear the floor of the atrium. Lucius had singlehandedly decimated Abrax’s forces with his dragon fire. Ursula tried not to envision how it must have gone down—in the confined space, his flames would have been inescapable, instantly incinerating any oneiroi and golems in his vicinity.

  Bael peered at her. “How did you know it was Lucius?”

  Ursula looked at him, a bit flummoxed. “Dragons dig their own tunnels, and the noise sounded too—I don’t know how to describe it—too practiced. The superheated stone confirmed it, the particular feel and smell of the flames. I knew it had to be Lucius trying to break in.”

  Lucius brushed ash off his body. “Clever one, isn’t she?”

  Bael frowned. “But how did you move the boulder? I should be the only one able to move it.”

  Ursula shook her head. She hadn’t really thought about it—she’d just done it. And yet the last time she’d tried to move it, it hadn’t budged. “Maybe because Lucius was trying to melt it?”

  Bael arched an eyebrow, apparently unconvinced.

  Lucius crossed his arms. “So what’s the plan?”

  “We need to rebuild an army,” said Ursula.

  Lucius snorted. “That’s going to take months, and you have nowhere to do it. Abrax will attack again as soon as he discovers what you’re up to. We need to do something immediately. Why do you think I flew all the way here?”

  Ursula was about to ask how Lucius was able to fly to the moon, when Bael spoke.

  “You’re going to help us?”

  “Yes,” said Lucius. “If Abrax is the Darkling, he needs to be put down.” Lucius touched Excalibur at his hip. “You said you needed Excalibur.”

  “You’ll let me wield the blade again?” asked Ursula.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucius snarled. “I’ll fight alongside you.”

  Bael’s dark magic curled around him in wisps. “Lucius, I appreciate your offer, but we cannot accept.”

  Emerazel’s fire flickered in Ursula’s veins. “Are you out of your mind? We have a dragon willing to fight on our side. He wields Excalibur, and the prophecy says that only that sword can defeat the Darkling.”

  Bael shook his head. “The prophecy was made up by an addled egghead of a mage. The only thing accurate about it is that the Darkling exists. That’s it. If we’re going to defeat Abrax, we can’t depend on a legend. We need a proper army. What about Frank’s soldiers?”

  Lucius pressed his lips into a thin line. “I don’t think they’re going to make it here any time soon. Many are still loyal to King Midac.”

  Disappointment welled in Ursula’s chest. She’d been counting on those reinforcements. “We can’t wait to find out. A sword in the hand is worth a thousand in the…bush. Okay, that’s a terrible expression, but my point is—we have Excalibur here now, and it’s worth a shot. Or else we need to form an army of the shadow demons here.”

  Bael stared at her, waiting to hear the rest.

  “The lords are as much at odds with Abrax as we are. None of them want him to take over the Shadow Realm. He’d imprison them all in the void.”

  Bael nodded, mulling this over. “Hothgar would never form an alliance with me. He’d be too threatened by the idea that I was seeking my former position as the Sword of Nyxobas. But if we could get him out of the way…”

  A shrill shout from the far side of the manor interrupted them. Lucius reached for Excalibur just as the dark form of a bat flew in through one of the cracks in the walls, carrying two people on his back.

  Ursula held up her hand. “Easy, Lucius. He’s a friend.” Warmth sparked in her chest as she recognized the two riders. “And so are his passengers.”

  Ursula hurried over to Sotz.

  “Ursula!” cried Zee and Cera in unison.

  As they slipped off Sotz, Ursula wrapped her two friends in a hug. “I was starting to think the worst. What happened to you two?”

  Cera pushed her silver hair off her face. “Zee glamoured us to look hideous, and we escaped among Abrax’s forces.”

  Lucius crossed to them, staring at Zee. “Fae girl. I recognize you.” He nodded at Cera. “But who is this tiny one with the sharp teeth?”

  Lovely manners on him.

  “This is Cera,” said Bael. “She’s worked for me for a long time.”

  “You don’t remember me?” Cera asked, looking Lucius full in the face. “I was in your warren in New York. Granted, Zee had glamoured me to fit in among the human women. I was taller. Blonde hair.”

  Lucius’s eyes widened. “You were that Cera? You kept me entertained with stories about dressmaking mishaps. Patches on clothing that went awry, and something called wardrobe malfunctions.”

  Ursula blinked. “You were entertained by stories about dressmaking mishaps?”

  Lucius lifted his chin. “It’s not often that anyone tells me stories.” A hush fell over them as Lucius studied the little oneiroi. He bent lower, meeting her gaze. “Cera, would you be willing to give me a tour of this place? I’ve only just arrived.”

  Cera nodded. “Of course. And you must be hungry.”

  Lucius nodded solemnly. “Fighting makes me very hungry.”

  “I’ll fix you something.” Cera beckoned him toward the elevator.

  “He’s not going to eat her, is he?” asked Ursula, a little worried.

  Bael spoke in a low rumble. “Cera can fend for herself.”

  Ursula clamped a hand on Zee’s shoulder. “So where did Cera and you go after you escaped?”

  “Cera took me down to her home on the crater floor,” said Zee. “When we saw Lucius flying toward the manor, she called that bat—”

  “Sotz,” Ursula corrected.

  “Right, she called Sotz, and we flew up to see what was going on.” Zee nodded at the ash-covered bodies on the floor of the atrium, wrinkling her nose. “It looks like Lucius helped out, in his own way.”

  “He saved us,” said Ursula. Next to her, Bael grimaced. It was obvious he wasn’t thrilled about Lucius’s entry into their fight. “And it’s a good thing, too, because my ancient demon-warrior over here can’t die yet. He still hasn’t learned to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Or, like, toast.”

  Bael’s dark magic thickened the air around him. “Lucius was helpful, but we are still going to need an army. He can’t defeat the entirety of Nyxobas’s legions on his own.”

  Zee’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “You need to see this.” She grabbed Ursula’s hand and pulled her toward the wall, where a ragged gap overlooked the lunar crater outside.

  Ursula sucked in a slow breath, looking out onto the stark landscape, the cool air rushing over her skin. In the city below, oneiroi filled the quiet streets between their stone
houses. Silver hair glinted in the starlight, as did a mishmash of blades and weapons in their hands. It took Ursula a few seconds to realize they were marching, in a great flood of bodies, toward the remains of Bael’s manor.

  Bael spoke from behind her. “The oneiroi are rebelling.”

  Ursula shouted into the atrium, “We have an army!” Her voice echoed off the walls.

  “Cera!” called Bael. “Lucius! We’re going to parlay with the oneiroi from the villages.”

  Around the room, the heads of the few remaining oneiroi popped up. Cera and Lucius appeared from one of the upstairs rooms.

  What had they been doing up there?

  Bael put his finger to his lips and whistled. Moments later, Sotz swooped in through the gap in the walls and landed on the atrium floor.

  Ursula slid onto Sotz’s back, and Bael climbed on behind her. With a few beats of Sotz’s wings, they launched through the gap in the wall, soaring over the lunar crater. Ursula gripped tightly to Sotz’s fur as they zoomed above the crowd of oneiroi. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a flash of bright red—Lucius had shifted, and he was flying alongside them. Of course he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be the center of attention.

  They plunged toward the biggest crowd of oneiroi, a thousand feet below at the base of the manor. The lunar wind whipped at Ursula’s hair as they flew, and they landed on an enormous boulder.

  Bael climbed off Sotz, and Ursula joined him.

  He stepped forward, starlight washing over his golden skin. “For those who do not know me, I am Bael, Lord of Albelda, and this is my betrothed, Ursula of Mount Acidale. We bring grave tidings.”

  He looked at Ursula, and she surmised she was supposed to take over. “The Darkling lives among you. You know him as Lord Abrax, and he wants to rule instead of the seven gods.”

  The crowd murmured below her.

  Bael’s eyes shone as he spoke. “Abrax has forsaken his sacred pact with his father, Nyxobas. He now schemes to overthrow the gods themselves. And worse, he has poisoned the council of the demon lords with lies and falsehoods.”

  The crowd of oneiroi watched them silently now, their eyes focused entirely on Bael. Given the ease with which he could control a crowd’s attention, Ursula could see why Nyxobas had chosen him to be his second-in-command. He was a born leader.

  Or maybe the giant red dragon on the boulder behind him just scared the ever-loving shit out of them.

  “But all is not lost,” Bael continued. “The lords themselves are in chaos, and that means they are weak. Their legions are inactive, their manors unguarded. Abrax is powerful, but if we attack the lords, we can appropriate their legions and build an army large enough to defeat Abrax. Together, we can defeat the Darkling.”

  The crowd of oneiroi cheered again, but when they fell silent, a high-pitched voice keened over the crowd, screaming about the dragon. The fear in the woman’s voice was palpable.

  Ursula crossed back to Lucius and ran her hand over the scales on his neck. “He looks terrifying and he breathes fire, but he is not our enemy. He saved us in Bael’s manor, saved the other oneiroi. Lucius, the Drake of Mount Acidale, will fight on our side.”

  “He’ll incinerate our enemies,” added Bael.

  As if on cue, the Drake reared back his head and breathed a stream of flame into the dark sky. It arced across the caldera like the tail of a comet.

  A deathly silence fell over the crowd for a moment. A pale, pinkish light had begun to tinge the sky—the first signs of the sun rising after weeks of darkness.

  All at once, the crowd erupted with cheers, shouting and waving their weapons in the air.

  Bael raised his hands to quiet them. “Our task is simple. We will take Hothgar’s manor. If he falls, the rest of the demon lords will join us.” Bael raised his sword. “For an oneiroi to attack a demon lord is a death sentence. If you will help me, I will grant you your freedom as Sword of Nyxobas.”

  At these words, the crowd went berserk, screaming and surging forward. They chanted Bael’s and Ursula’s names like mantras, and a shiver rippled over Ursula’s skin at the weight of their responsibility.

  Chapter 42

  Three hours later, the slowly rising sun sent rivulets of sweat trickling down Ursula’s neck, and her legs burned with tiredness as they reached Hothgar’s manor. By Bael’s side, she marched at the front of the oneiroi rebels.

  Hothgar’s manor looked completely impenetrable—a fortress of steel and stone that clung to the cliff face a thousand feet above them. Still, they had a dragon on their side, at least, and they’d formulated a plan on their march.

  When they reached the base of the manor, Bael climbed another boulder to address the crowd, holding out his hand for Ursula to join him. Under the slanted rays of the rising sun, Ursula looked out over the oneiroi horde.

  “We will commence our attack in five minutes,” Bael’s voice boomed over the crowd. “Those of you who own bats should call them. Pull one of your brothers or sisters on the back if there is room. Do not worry about Hothgar’s forces.” He looked at Ursula, indicating she should go on.

  “Lucius will protect us as we breach the manor’s walls,” she announced. “Once inside, fight like hell.” Fight like hell was about the extent of their plan.

  Bael’s bat swooped lower, and Bael slid onto his back. Sotz was next, swooping lower, and Ursula climbed on, gripping his fur. She beckoned another oneiroi fighter on behind her, then tightened her thighs around Sotz. He lifted off into the air.

  Soaring above the horde, with the lunar wind in her hair, Ursula directed Sotz around in a wide arc. As she did, she surveyed the oneiroi below her, leaping onto their bats. With her knees, she directed Sotz toward the manor, just as Lucius was blasting an enormous hole in the walls, shearing metal with the intense heat of his flames.

  Sotz’s wings beat the air, and they rose higher, toward Hothgar’s manor. Around them, scores of lunar bats swarmed, each packed with two or three oneiroi. They clutched all types of weapons—swords, spears, and outlawed stone daggers with blades sharp enough to cut through rock. Ursula’s limbs trembled with a battle fury as ancient as man, her heart pounding like a war drum.

  As she neared the manor on Sotz’s back, Ursula’s adrenaline surged. Thick smoke bloomed from a hole, and oneiroi began streaming in. With a gentle nudge, Ursula directed Sotz toward the opening. Inside, the smaller oneiroi rebels clashed with larger shadow demons. With her blood racing, Ursula swooped down to land amidst the clashing of steel, the screaming of warriors. Somehow, she belonged in battle. As she leapt to the floor, she drew Honjo.

  A massive demon lunged for her, his head painted blue and shaved as smooth as a river stone. In one hand, he held an iron blade with a nasty serrated edge. “I will feast on your entrails, bitch.”

  He launched his sword hard at Ursula’s head, but Ursula swung, parrying. Sparks flew in the smoky air as her sword clashed against his.

  Blue Head was rearing back for a second strike when a shadowy power surged in Ursula’s body, moving through her like a night wind. She drove her sword up into his chest, then ripped it out again, watching the monster fall to the ground.

  That was when she noticed Bael standing over him, staring at her. “How did you learn to fight like that?”

  “My mother taught me.”

  Bael narrowed his eyes. “There’s more to it than that. Sometimes, you move like an ancient warrior.”

  Ursula shrugged. “No idea.”

  A shout interrupted them, and the thumping of demon wings. Hothgar soared above them, shifted into a fully demonic form. His ivory horns gleamed in the rays of sunlight, and a downy fur covered his wings, giving them an almost feathery appearance. He carried a long spear, and he opened his mouth to screech, the sound curdling Ursula’s blood. He waved his spear in a complex set of patterns, and shadowy magic gathered around its tip.

  “Hothgar,” roared Bael. “How good to see you again.”

  Hothgar fired a bolt of shad
ows in their direction, but Bael blocked it with his sword.

  A movement sounded behind Ursula, and she whirled, her sword ready. She caught a demon in the gut, nearly carving him in two. Her blood roared in her ears at the crimson arc that spewed from him. She glanced up at Hothgar, who twirled his spear, magic crackling at its tip.

  “Stop playing with your spear, and come down and fight us,” said Ursula.

  Hothgar’s response was to unleash a bolt of shadows from his spear, and they tore through the air in her direction. She dove to the side, and Hothgar’s magic shattered the marble floor by her side.

  Hothgar hovered above them, his downy wings thumping in the air. Ursula’s blood boiled as she looked up at him. She needed to lure him closer, within sword’s range, so she could actually fight him. As she tried to think of a way to bait him down, an enormous crash sounded behind her, and she pivoted. Lucius’s draconic head slipped through a new hole in the wall, his red eyes flashing.

  “Oh, Hothgar,” Ursula shouted, all innocence. “I forgot to mention that I’ve made some new friends.”

  The sound of shearing steel pierced the air, and the floor of the manor shook as Lucius pushed his way into the atrium.

  Hothgar turned, flying away from the new threat and swinging his spear frantically. He unleashed bolts of shadows at Lucius, but the magic seemed to have no effect, bouncing off the dragon’s ruby scales as if they were made of mirrors.

  Fast as a viper, Lucius struck. With a crunch, his teeth snapped onto one of Hothgar’s wings. He swung the demon violently, like a terrier with a rat. Hothgar screamed, and the sound of breaking bones filled the air. For a moment, she thought the Drake would devour him, but when Hothgar fell still, Lucius dropped him. Ursula winced as Hothgar slammed into the atrium floor with an audible crunch.

  “Your lord is defeated,” shouted Bael at Hothgar’s remaining forces.

  “You have two choices: drop your weapons,” Ursula cried out. “Or feed our dragon with your bodies.”

  Around them, swords slammed against the floor as shadow demons rushed to drop them.