Eternal Magic

by C. N. Crawford

  Abrax turned to her with a small smile. “You know what I want. I want you to join me. Fight with me. Rule with me.”

  “Why me?”

  Abrax’s eyes pierced her. “Because untapped power lives inside you, and I want it.”

  “If I join you, will you release them?”

  “Of course,” said Abrax. “They will be free to go.” His smile was a rictus grin.

  Ursula glanced at Bael, his blood pouring over the floor. She couldn’t simply stand here and watch him die. Grief ripped through her mind. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the end. She just wanted to know that Bael would make it out alive.

  “All right,” she said slowly. “I’ll join you, on the condition that you release my friends.”

  Abrax’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You know, I had always taken you for a fool, too devoted to your earthly desires to comprehend the full magnitude of my offer. But I’m heartened that you seem to be learning. When I consume your soul, you will live forever. Eternal life, Ursula, is a glorious gift.”

  Abrax stroked her cheek, and bile rose in her throat. Already, the incubus’s dark power was washing over her. Even as the bonds that wrapped around her loosened, his icy magic slid over her skin, skimming her body.

  “I thought you hated the taste of my soul.”

  Abrax’s eyes shone in semidarkness. “Yes, but it will be only a momentary inconvenience.”

  He leaned in closer to her, his lips hovering just above hers. The bonds of his inky magic slipped off her, and yet she was still completely immobilized by him, her body electrified by his magic. She was drawn to him and repulsed by him at the same time, completely transfixed.

  Her pulse raced, and she tried to remember what her plan was. Did she have a plan? No—her only plan had been to stop Abrax from killing Bael. Now, Abrax had her completely enthralled with his incubus magic, and it curled around her ribs in seductive tendrils. She felt as if silk had wrapped around her body, until she didn’t want to move. He wasn’t pressing his lips against hers, but he was close enough that his magic washed over her all the same.

  A sound nagged at the edge of her consciousness.

  Abrax’s magic still enthralled her, but an insistent sound, like a klaxon, hammered at the back of her mind.

  “Ursula!” It took her a moment to recognize her own name.

  She opened her eyes. Abrax’s face hovered over hers, his eyes closed. A stream of golden magic flowed from her mouth into his. But she read something on his features—something an incubus wasn’t supposed to display.

  Pure, utter disgust.

  “Ursula!” Cera stood near the bodies of Bael and Lucius, her sharp teeth flashing. “Catch this!” she shouted, throwing something at Ursula. The object seemed to move in slow motion as it arced through the air toward her. Light refracted off a blade, a jeweled pommel. Excalibur.

  Drawing on the last of her strength, Ursula lunged for the sword, grabbing it by the hilt. Shadow magic poured from Abrax’s body, but she sliced through it with the blade.

  The connection severed. Abrax’s eyes burst open. Staring at the blade in Ursula’s hand, he roared, “I offered you immortality, and still you try to kill me? So you will sicken and die, like all the other peasants and mortals. Your flesh will grow old and decay. Is that what you want?” His face cracked into a wicked grin, and his eyes flashed a deep gold.

  She carved the blade through the air, and it felt like a perfect extension of her. But she couldn’t summon Emerazel’s fire, couldn’t get the sword to burn like it had before. That is a problem.

  Abrax’s eyes danced with amusement. “Your fire courses in my veins now, so I might as well kill you.”

  Ursula’s muscles tensed, and her fingers clenched around Excalibur’s hilt. She raised the sword. “Abrax. Have you ever encountered Excalibur? It’s mentioned in the Darkling prophecy.”

  Abrax snarled, and the sound rumbled through her bones. With a cracking and lurching of his body, he began to transform. Wings sprouted from his back, and talons curled from his feet.

  Ursula gripped the sword tightly, desperately trying to summon her fire magic. Abrax lunged for her, and she swung, the sword’s steel deflecting his raking claws. Rage simmered in her body, and she slashed at the incubus, driving him back.

  Distantly, she was aware of the sound of Cera screaming. And when she turned her head, her heart stopped. Golems stood over Bael and Lucius—and one of the creatures was driving a blade into Bael’s back.

  Ursula’s world tilted. She was hardly aware of her own screaming.

  Without his wings, Bael was mortal.

  “Too late.” A gleeful, sing-song declaration from Abrax.

  Ice-cold fury slid through Ursula’s veins, and she raced for the golems as fleet as the night wind. With speed she didn’t realize she possessed, she sliced through their bodies, then spun to face the demon.

  A wicked smile, arms crossed over his chest, leathery wings rising above him like a funeral shroud. “Maybe you shouldn’t have betrayed me.”

  Ursula pointed Excalibur at his chest, her arm trembling with a simmering fury.

  Abrax sighed. “You and I both know you’re drained. You have no fire left to fight me.” He shook his head. “I’d been thinking about killing you, but now I think I might just let you live. So you can feel pain in your heart until your sad little mortal body withers and dies.”

  That was what Bael had worried about. Watching her grow old while he remained in his prime. And now he was dead. Something cracked within Ursula, and hot wrath erupted in her body.

  The last dregs of Emerazel’s power burned through her veins, flowing into Excalibur. Fire leapt from the blade, forming a massive sword of flame.

  She lunged forward, and it pierced Abrax’s chest. He moaned, falling to the tiles, clutching his ribs. Pure rage consumed Ursula as she stalked over to him, flames flickering around the tip of the blade.

  “You filthy bitch,” Abrax moaned.

  “Still had some fire left. You really should have drained all of it.” Ursula pointed Excalibur at Abrax’s throat.

  “N-no—” sputtered Abrax as he frantically tried to get away. His legs didn’t seem to be working properly, and blood smeared the tiles under him.

  Ursula pinned his throat with her blade. “You said you didn’t believe the prophecy. Was that a lie?”

  Abrax’s eyes flashed with terror. “I will give you anything you want. Money, power...”

  Hot anger ripped through her mind. “You just took from me the only thing I want.” She slashed the flaming blade downward, opening up another deep wound in his chest. The smell of burning flesh darkened the air.

  Abrax’s back arched, and he writhed in agony. “Wait! Wait!” Frantically, he dug into his pockets until he pulled out a wallet between his fingers.

  “You think you can buy me?” Ursula snarled.

  “It’s not money,” Abrax rasped. “Wings.”

  “Wings,” Ursula repeated, as understanding began to dawn.

  “If you want to save him, you can use these.” Abrax cracked open the billfold, giving Ursula a view. Folded inside were two golden wings that glowed with an otherworldly light. “But first you need to be a good hound and fetch.” He threw the billfold across the room.

  “Pull your magic off him,” Ursula growled, her blade piercing his skin.

  The inky magic receded from Bael’s body. Then Ursula slashed at Abrax’s throat, cutting through his jugular, a gurgling noise rising from the wound. But her attention was already elsewhere.

  Ursula stared at the billfold on the marble floor. Bael’s wings, the source of his immortality, rested twenty feet away. Dropping Excalibur, Ursula sprinted for them, hope blooming in her heart.

  Chapter 44

  She snatched the billfold from where it lay on the floor, then sprinted to Bael.

  “Cera!” shouted Ursula as she ran. “I’m going to need your help. I have his wings.”

  “Flip him over!” Cera shr
ieked. She ran over to where Bael lay and grabbed the wallet from Ursula’s hands.

  As Cera carefully withdrew the wings, Ursula turned to Bael’s still body. His chest wasn’t moving. Could she really still save him? Grunting and using all her strength, she pushed Bael’s body over, so he lay flat on his front.

  “Hurry,” shouted Cera.

  Ursula grabbed the fabric at Bael’s shoulder and began to pull.

  “Wait.” Cera pulled out a knife, then began cutting the shirt off his back, and drew the blade through his bandages. Fresh blood oozed from the wounds where Bael’s wings had been.

  Looking at his ravaged back, Ursula snatched the wings from Cera. The wings were featherlight and transparent, glowing with a pearly magic. “What do I do?”

  Cera chewed her lip. “I think you just put them on the wounds.”

  Slowly, Ursula pressed a wing onto the closest wound. She paused for a full second, but nothing happened.

  “I think it needs to be both of them,” whispered Cera.

  “Right.” Holding her breath, Ursula carefully placed the remaining wing on the second wound.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then the wings began to glow brighter, with a silvery light like a burning star, until they shone so brightly Ursula had to cover her eyes. Relief bloomed in her chest. It’s working. A wild joy bubbled through her.

  When she opened her eyes again, Bael was sitting before her. His bare, tattooed chest glowed with an unearthly light, and the room filled with the scent of sandalwood. He drew in a deep breath, standing and extending his hand to Ursula.

  “Thank you,” he said, the light fading. Shadows began to swirl about him once again, and dark wings cascaded behind him.

  He looked like a god, and Ursula’s jaw dropped.

  “You returned my wings to me.” He pulled her closer, enfolding her in his powerful arms.

  Ursula could have hardly thought it possible, but his body felt even stronger, like steel cables now reinforced his muscles. He kissed her, and she melted into his embrace.

  A deep cough interrupted them.

  Lucius was pulling dead fragments of shadow magic off his body. “I’m sorry to intrude, but where is Excalibur?”

  Ursula whirled, turning to find Abrax. But he wasn’t there.

  In fact, where he’d been lying, she saw only a smear of blood. Hadn’t she slashed his throat? And his chest?

  “How did he survive that?” she cried. “I thought the sword could kill him.”

  A sound somewhere between a growl and a roar rumbled in Lucius’s chest. “That sword is mine.”

  “So we will retrieve it,” said Bael.

  Lucius gripped his hair. “The demon could be anywhere now.”

  Ursula frantically racked her brain. What use would Abrax have for Excalibur?

  That was when a terrifying realization sparked in her mind. “I know where he’s gone. He wants to kill his father. He’ll be at Asta, hunting for Nyxobas.”

  At Asta’s spire, Sotz landed on the platform. The violet crystal glowed faintly in the bright light. Bael climbed off from behind her, and Ursula followed, her gaze flicking to Cera and Lucius as they landed gracefully.

  With a sickening snapping sound, Lucius shifted into his human form. He clapped his hands together, his face reddened. “Let’s get my sword, shall we?”

  They stalked into the tunnel, and Ursula reached out to touch the walls of the passage. Without Emerazel’s fire in her veins, the crystal didn’t feel ice cold. If anything, she could feel the deep hum of magic thrumming all around her, seeping into her veins.

  Ursula could hear the distinct sound of hammering when they entered the hall of the lords, and she strained her eyes in the dim light. The faint indigo gleam of the crystal cast a pale glow on the empty stone tables of the demon lords.

  Ursula’s gaze flicked to Nyxobas’s throne, where he sat, as usual, in a dark-eyed daze. But he wasn’t alone, and that was where the sound of hammering was coming from. Abrax stood just before the sleeping god, gripping Excalibur. He grunted, rearing back to swing for his father’s head. But his aim was off, and it slammed into the stone next to Nyxobas for what must have been at least the hundredth time. The rock sparked, and shards of crystal sprayed onto the floor of the throne room.

  “Put it down, fool,” Lucius bellowed. “You cannot handle the blade. Only Excalibur chooses who may wield it.”

  Abrax turned, his face a mask of fury, blood streaming from his throat, his chest. “I am the son of a god. I can do what I want.”

  “Surrender yourself,” said Bael. “You are outnumbered and half dead.”

  “No.” Abrax stumbled toward them, his pale eyes wide.

  “No?”

  “Did you not think I would have a contingency plan?” He pointed to a dark form in the corner. A man, wrapped in shadow magic.

  Ursula’s stomach clenched when she recognized Kester’s sandy hair.

  Abrax grinned. “All I have to do is snap my fingers, and the shadows will coil around his throat.”

  “Do you think we won’t sacrifice Kester?” said Bael.

  “She won’t.” Abrax pointed to Ursula.

  “Bael,” said Ursula. “Let me talk to him.”

  Bael’s dark wings cascaded gracefully behind him. “Ursula, wait.”

  But she was already striding across the marble floor.

  Abrax smiled at her as she approached. “I knew you would save your friend.”

  “Release him.” Nyxobas’s power thrummed over her body, coiling between her ribs. Maybe her fire magic was gone, but now she felt the thrill of night magic—cold, ancient, and strangely familiar.

  Abrax narrowed his eyes. “Your soul for his.”

  “Ursula!” shouted Bael in warning, but Ursula was already leaping, the shadows carrying her as if on a phantom wind.

  She appeared next to Abrax. Before he could strike her with Excalibur, she drove Honjo into his ravaged chest. Abrax’s eyes widened as she jerked the sword upward.

  “You cannot kill me. I am immortal.”

  “I know you can feel pain.” She twisted the blade, watching his face contort with agony.

  Abrax’s body began to quiver, his bones contracting, his face becoming demonic.

  “No you don’t,” said Ursula, grabbing him by the throat and pulling his face closer. “You were right. I’m drained of Emerazel’s fire. But that only leaves room for Nyxobas’s shadows. They’re drawn to me, like they belong to me. I’m a creature of the night. I always have been. Do you remember what happened when you tried to kill me on the sands of Lacus Mortis?”

  There was fear in Abrax’s eyes now. “I am immortal—”

  “But that won’t stop me from consuming your magic.”

  Ursula breathed in, sucking Abrax’s shadowy magic into her body. Dark and wispy as smoke, it imbued her body, pooling around her skull, her ribs. She felt herself lured into the void, that clean expanse of nothingness, where she didn’t have to feel. She fought to stay focused, drawing Abrax’s magic from him.

  Abrax’s pale eyes widened. As Ursula drained him, a voice boomed all around her, penetrating her skull. “Enough!”

  She looked at Nyxobas where he sat on his throne, his eyes now sharp and clear as rays of light.

  She stared into the god’s ancient face, and the darkness of the void drew her under.

  Chapter 45

  She drifted in the void, darkness enveloping her.

  “Ursula.” Nyxobas’s voice rumbled through her bones, his voice reverberating in the darkness, seeming to come from every direction. Or maybe from within her mind.

  “Why are you fighting Abrax?” his voice boomed.

  If she hadn’t been floating in a void, Ursula would have sighed in frustration. “He was trying to kill you. I was trying to save you.”

  “Do you know why you are here, in the void? Do you know why my power imbues you?”

  A thought, an idea from the back of her mind, blazed to life. Something s
he’d known for a long time, but that she’d refused to really entertain. “I come from you, don’t I? My mother was one of your followers. I saw her eyes—black as the void.”

  “She was my lover.”

  “And I’m your daughter.” How long had she known this for? It was the first time she’d allowed herself to think it, and yet it seemed so crystal clear to her now. The night had always called to her. She’d felt the power of shadow magic flowing through her veins. She felt a distant horror at the realization that Abrax was her brother.

  Emerazel had known all along, hadn’t she? When Ursula had first met the fire goddess, Emerazel had forced her to kneel with a gleeful sense of dominance.

  “If you can find your way out of the void, I’m pulling the mark of that bitch from you,” said Nyxobas, as if hearing her thoughts. “You won’t belong to her anymore. You’re a demigod, Ursula. And that’s why I needed to test your ability in combat at Lacus Mortis. You did not disappoint me.”

  “You sacrificed my mother, didn’t you? You used her as a pawn in your war against Emerazel’s followers.”

  “Your mother was a powerful warrior, like you. She made her own choice. She was very devoted to me,” said Nyxobas. “She made her own decisions. She chose to try to kill the king for me. He was a follower of my greatest enemy, Emerazel. He needed to be stopped, his bloodline ended. In his quest for power, he was converting too many souls. I couldn’t allow Emerazel that sort of advantage. Your mother understood.”

  In the void, Ursula’s emotions were dulled, and yet she felt a distant sense of betrayal. Her mother had chosen Nyxobas over her. Her mother had left her alone. Still, here in the void, that clean, soothing emptiness pulled her under, that freedom from the pain of memories. If she could just stay here forever…

  “I need to get out of here,” she whispered.

  “But you prefer it here, don’t you? You long to escape. There’s nothing in your memories but the darkness. You did that to yourself.”

  “I remember some things… I remember watching my mother die. Her eyes were filled with your shadows.” Still, Ursula couldn’t feel the memory—until all at once, she found herself back in Mount Acidale.