Mad Magic

by Nicole Conway

  It took every ounce of my strength to suck in a tiny breath. It was just enough for me to wheeze, “Go to hell.”

  Fir Darrig bellowed in frustration, squeezing my throat harder. I flailed in his grasp. The world began to go dark. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. He was … going to kill me.

  Something slammed into us.

  The impact jarred Fir Darrig enough that he let me go. I landed in a nearly unconscious heap in the snow at Fir Darrig’s feet, choking and wheezing. My neck ached and my throat spasmed with every rasping, desperate breath I took. With vision still blurred, I glanced up to try and figure out what had happened—and if I had time to get away.

  A huge, furious black wolf had his jaws locked around Fir Darrig’s arm and was shaking. My jaw dropped. Tears welled in my eyes.

  “Eldrick!” I screamed.

  A flick of Fir Darrig’s free hand summoned his staff again. He smacked Eldrick over the snout with it. It didn’t work—Eldrick didn’t let go. Instead, he pitched violently, shaking his head with his teeth still digging into Fir Darrig’s arm. Blood spattered the snow, and Fir Darrig raised his staff again, his face twisted with rage.

  The crack of his staff over Eldrick’s head sent a burst of chimes roaring through my eardrums. I stumbled back, clamping my hands over my ears as a flash of blinding green light lit up the night.

  Eldrick hit the ground running. He shifted forms mid-stride as he sprinted over the ground straight toward me, plucking me out of the snow just as a blast of magic roared past us. The heat of the spell sizzled against my face and singed some of my hair.

  Fir Darrig lost it. He started casting wildly, sending bursts of raw magic in our direction like tongues of green lightning. Each one left a patch of scorched, naked earth behind.

  I gripped Eldrick with all my might as he ran. He ducked and dodged, moving as quick as a shadow over the frozen ground. When we reached spell circle I had been working on for the crowning, he skidded to a halt and whirled around.

  “I can draw him off.” Eldrick panted as he set me down inside the circle. “Who is it that you’ve chosen? Give me the name and I will try to clear the way for them.”

  Eldrick started to pull away. His wild eyes flashed around the battlefield as he waited for my word before he sprang into action. I grabbed the front of his sweater to keep him from charging back into battle.

  “Why?” So many emotions swirled through my head. Most of them could wait, but this I needed to know right now. “Why did you come back?”

  He stared down at me as though I had completely lost my mind. “I didn’t leave,” he corrected me sharply. “I simply had to run an errand.”

  An errand? Seriously? What could he possibly have to do that couldn’t wait until—

  Horns blared in the distance. If not for Eldrick’s smug, almost evil grin, I might have thought I was hallucinating.

  On the horizon, a churning black cloud rose up like a dark tidal wave. It blotted out the sterling light of the moon and swallowed the stars, generating a thrumming energy that sent cold pangs of fear through my body. At the crest of the wave, in a chariot drawn by two ghostly black horses, rode an older man wearing a sweeping black cape and a crown made of black glass. There was a cruel smirk on his lips as he drove his horses on, snapping a whip that cracked like thunder.

  Fir Darrig stopped. Even the spriggans seemed curious and confused at first, but that was before the charioteer descended into the clearing, steering straight for one of the colossal monsters with a sword drawn. Behind him, the toiling black cloud split into a hundred smaller, ghostly fragments. Some looked like horses, others like panthers, wolves, or skeletal soldiers with bat-wings. Their ghoulish forms flickered like black shadows, but their claws, fangs, and swords were very real.

  “Your dad?” I guessed.

  Eldrick sighed and put his hands over mine so I would let go of his sweater. “We weren’t going to survive this without sizeable reinforcements.”

  “But you said you would never ask him—”

  “That was before you set me free. After that I was … forced to acknowledge something I had taken for granted,” he cut me off quickly and touched one of his warm hands to my cheek. “You are precious to me. I am indeed your friend. I will not forsake you now. Your battles are mine, as well.”

  That was all I needed to hear. I’d made this decision days ago, and now I knew it was the right one after all. “I have made my choice.”

  The moment those words left my lips, the spell circle beneath our feet ignited. Fir Darrig shrieked, hurling another bolt of green lightning in our direction. Before it could hit, Jack Frost and Zeph swept in, melding their powers to create a protective shield around us.

  The crowning symbols lit up one by one beneath my feet, burning as brightly and softly as candles in the darkness of the night. The marks on my skin did the same, gleaming to life until I could feel the swell of magic surging through my body.

  “I didn’t understand it before. I thought Dad contracting you to me was a mistake, or some kind of cruel joke. But … I get it now. I believe he wanted me to see you for who you truly are, and for you to learn that not all humans are stupid, selfish, and cruel. This is why he brought us together—because I needed you as much as you needed me.”

  Eldrick seemed mute with shock as I stood on my toes, taking his face into my hands. His eyes were wide and his cheeks flushed as I kissed his forehead. Ignoring the battle that raged on around us, Fir Darrig’s magical blasts sizzling against the barrier, I whispered the final bit of the spell. “From now until the eve of the next Singing Moon, you alone shall bear this responsibility and sacred blessing. I crown you, Eldrick Dorchaidhe, to rule as King of the Faeries.”

  A string of glowing golden runes ignited across his forehead, forming a band that blazed like fire. They faded quickly, melting as though they were being absorbed into his body. Eldrick’s eyes rolled back and he took in a deep breath. He shivered, his body tensing, broad shoulders flexing, and hands slowly curling into fists.

  When he opened his eyes again, they weren’t silver anymore—they shone like molten pools of gold.

  “No!” Fir Darrig thundered. He lunged, his expression twisted with a look of insane fury, and swung the staff again. The spear-like tip glowed and sizzled with raw magical energy, sending out a wave of power aimed directly at us.

  I cringed against Eldrick as the blow rocketed over the snow like a blazing comet. There was no outrunning it. We couldn’t dodge this one.

  Eldrick straightened and stretched out a hand. He caught the blast as though it were nothing, his expression never changing from perfect calm. As he snapped his hand closed, the sphere snuffed out with a puff of smoke.

  Fir Darrig froze in place, his mouth falling open. His eyes went round and his face blanched. Gradually, his whole expression began to twitch and his grip on his staff tightened.

  He swallowed hard and took a wobbly, limping step backward.

  Eldrick’s mouth curled into a smirk. “I will keep him occupied,” he repeated, although this time his voice carried a sense of pride and authority that made me blush. It suited him. “Prepare the spellwork to summon the gate. I will return shortly.”

  I grinned. It probably looked goofy considering our circumstances. “Right away, Your Majesty!”

  Eldrick’s father stormed the battlefield in his chariot, snapping his whip around the arms and legs of the massive earth monsters. The whole time he laughed like a complete maniac. He seemed to be the only one enjoying himself.

  As much as I wanted to help them fight, I had my hands full. All my studying and practice boiled down to this one moment. I couldn’t mess this up. My forehead was sticky with sweat and my chest ached and throbbed as I began drawing the complex series of spell circles. The fight raged on around me, threatening to distract me or break my focus. I had shut everything else out.

  Suddenly, a pair of strong hands grabbed my shoulders.

/>   I screamed, rearing back for a punch since I’d already lost all my battle hardware.

  Zeph didn’t wait for me to recover. He went through my pockets until he found another charred twig. “I’ll start over there,” he growled. “Hurry up. We’re not doing so hot.”

  What? But we had Eldrick and Erebos fighting with us now, didn’t we? Shouldn’t that have least evened the odds?

  I glanced around through the bursts of magical spells that bloomed in the night and the twisting, earthy bodies of Fir Darrig’s monsters. As quickly as my friends were cutting them apart, spriggans and moorhounds were reassembling and diving right back into the fray. Hank fired shot after shot, sending wood splinters and shards of rock in every direction. Each time, a moorhound dropped … but didn’t stay that way. The creature writhed and hissed, its body rapidly regenerating until it could stand and charge again.

  Freddy was squaring off against another spriggan. It swung at him, its giant fists slamming down hard enough to make the ground rumble and my teeth rattle. He dodged and jumped at the last second, narrowly escaping. He was soaked with sweat, barely able to stay on his feet.

  Then he tripped. The spriggan drew back for a killing blow.

  I screamed.

  Out of nowhere, Camilla landed on the spriggan’s fist. Her whole body shimmered like it was covered in blue and white diamonds. She dug her fingers into the spriggan’s hand and immediately it started to melt, turning to sludge and watery mud.

  The spriggan was still studying the stump where its hand had been as Camilla darted down to drag her husband away. Her expression was skewed and desperate, her eyes darting toward me.

  They were tiring. They wouldn’t last much longer.

  Zeph’s wings brushed against me as he stepped over and began hurriedly writing the proper runes around the other side of the circle. “Come on, slacker. Less watching, more working!”

  I tried to focus again. But another quick glance at the battle made me hesitate. There was another Zeph still locked in combat with a group of moorhounds. No—more than one. I saw three Zephs scattered across the field, ripping Fir Darrig’s monsters apart as fast as the gnarled beasts could reassemble themselves.

  “Told you’ve I’ve got a few tricks. The illusion will stick as long as they believe it’s real,” he said with a quick smirk. “Good thing spriggans are dumb as hell, right?”

  We finished the markings together in half the time it would have taken me alone, even with my injury was slowing me down. I winced, unable to suppress a whimper of pain as I bent over to press the staurolite stones into the earth at the proper places in the innermost part of the central circle. Then I stood back to double-check my work. It was perfect—it had to be. There wasn’t time to do it over.

  “All right, princess. Now we just need the king,” Zeph spread his wings, glassy violet feathers catching in the moonlight. “Eldrick, right?”

  “H-how did you know?”

  He tapped his temple. “Got my senses back. A Faerie King puts off a powerful aura. He’s stronger than Fir Darrig now.”

  Good to know, but I didn’t see Eldrick or Fir Darrig anywhere.

  A sudden chorus of snarls made me turn—right into the oncoming teeth of a lunging moorhound. I screamed and threw my arms up to shield my face. My feet tangled as I pitched backwards.

  In one fluid motion, Zeph yanked me out of the moorhound’s path and rammed his arm into its open jaws. His eyes blazed with wrath as the creature gnawed on his forearm, still trying to get to me. Two more of the monsters were closing in, ready to join the fight.

  “Stay behind me,” he ordered.

  No argument there. I scrambled out of the way as Zeph flared his wings and grabbed the moorhound dangling from his arm by the scruff. A chilling toll of bells rippled through the air as the vibrant runes that striped Zeph’s whole body flashed brighter. The moorhound in his hand stiffened and yelped as though it had been electrocuted. It kicked and flailed, trying to get away from him—but Zeph didn’t let go.

  Not until he’d taken aim, that is.

  He hurled the moorhound through the air, using it like a bowling ball to knock over the other two. The crashed end over end, the first one exploding like a grenade of purple magic that sent the other two flying.

  Four more moorhounds were already charging in to pick up the fight, though. Zeph dropped to his hands and feet in a crouch, wings spread wide and pointed canines bared. His lion tail lashed and the stripes on his body strobed and pulsed.

  The advancing pack skidded to a halt, their wicked eyes flickering as they stared past Zeph at me. One of them took a daring step closer.

  Zeph’s body rippled, his runes gleaming brighter as he let out a thundering roar. All the moorhounds flinched back. They made yipping sounds as they cowered, finally turning to run with their tails firmly tucked.

  “W-we don’t have much time …” I wheezed as Zeph stood and faced me again. The pain in my chest was getting worse and making me feel strange. My fingers tingled. Everything was spinning.

  Zeph caught me as I started to fall. One of his hands touched my chest, right at my ribs. I whimpered and clenched my teeth.

  “What’s wrong?” His expression was riddled with concern. “Are you hurt?”

  I had to use his arm to steady myself. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Where is Eldrick?”

  Zeph nodded and pointed into the distance, his expression somber.

  Eldrick had slipped back into his beastly, wolfish form. He and Fir Darrig clashed in the moonlight, the bursts from their magical attacks lighting up the dark like fireworks. They brawled, two giant faerie gods—Fir Darrig wielding his staff to send bolts of power that Eldrick snagged in his teeth or let bounce off his shaggy black hide. Each hit made him falter, but only for a moment. He struck back, seizing Fir Darrig’s staff in his jaws and trying to wrench it out of his hands.

  My stomach twisted. Eldrick was king now, wasn’t he? Couldn’t he crush Fir Darrig—or at least hit him hard enough to buy us enough time to open the gate? Why was he holding back?

  “That idiot,” Zeph growled under his breath. “He picked a fine time to get heroic. He must be worried about us getting caught in the crossfire. He’s not using even half of his power.”

  “What can we do?”

  He frowned, his eyes going steely. “You aren’t moving from this spot. I’m gonna mix up a distraction so he can get back over here. It won’t hold him for long, though, so you better be fast.”

  My skin prickled at the presence of Zeph’s magic as he sprang into the sky, wings catching a frosty gust of wind. Jack swooped in to fly beside him and then the two broke away as though they were coordinating some kind of attack.

  Zeph lined up, pumping his wings hard as he hovered in place. Jack circled wide, streaking through the sky and summoning up a concentrated blast of his icy power. It made the air around me crackle with energy and the rising swell of chimes.

  Drawing his hands apart, Zeph made a glowing purple spell circle that hung in the air—hovering right above his hands. It grew and expanded until it shone like a glittering bullseye in the sky … right above Fir Darrig.

  Jack Frost hurled his own spell straight through the center. The instant his ice magic met Zeph’s illusionary power, the spell imploded with concussive force. It sent snow and wind howling through the air like a blizzard. I had to cover my eyes from the stinging, blinding wind.

  When the whiteout dissipated, Fir Darrig had a new opponent—a giant replica of himself made of solid ice. The frosty giant lumbered forward, catching Fir Darrig off guard with a swing of its staff. It sent the faerie lord staggering, barely able to raise his own staff in time to block another swing. Overhead, Zeph and Jack were already lining up to do the same spellwork combination again.

  Eldrick caught on right away. He backed up two steps, turned, and galloped back to the spell circle, still in his giant wolf form. He lowered his head to me, then put o
ne of his massive paws into the circle and howled so loud I had to cover my ears.

  The ground shook. I stumbled onto my rear end as the runes in the Fibbing Gate circle slowly came to life with soft, gentle, white light. The more marks that glowed, the more they seemed to emanate a fine, shining white mist. The shimmering vapor gathered in the center of the circles, swirling like a million pin-prick sized stars.

  Slowly, it drew together into the vague shape of a ghostly white door that hovered in the middle of the circle. It looked just like the door in the picture Freddy had stolen out of the old whispering tome.

  The time had come. I had to open the gate, and somehow, we had to get Fir Darrig through it.

  My whole body shook as I got to my feet and took timid steps toward the door. It towered over me, seeming to glisten somewhere between reality and a floating, misty dream. I shivered, reaching for the giant handle—a snarling metal gargoyle with a ring through its teeth.

  The moment my fingers touched the translucent ring, it solidified. A ripple went out from the handle, drawing the whole door into this dimension. The four staurolite stones began to rattle and shake as though they were shivering in place.

  The earth rumbled again. I cringed back as more of those cross-shaped gemstones burst out of the earth and shot toward the gateway, stacking themselves rapidly. Several hundred cross-shaped gems all formed together, interlocking like a giant jigsaw puzzle in the shape of the door itself.

  “Open it!” Eldrick shouted. “Do it now!”

  I clenched my teeth, grasped the handle with both hands, and pulled.

  The giant door didn’t move. I couldn’t budge it at all. Then the wooden edges began to creak and groan. I pulled harder. My feet slipped on the icy ground and my chest hurt so badly I could barely stand it, but I’d come too far to give up now.

  Slowly, I dragged the heavy gateway open.

  I expected to see light from within, like a gateway to heaven or something. Instead, bitter cold wafted through the opening like a gust from a deep freezer. The darkness beyond the doorway churned and moved as though it were alive. It emanated the worst sort of feeling I’d ever experienced. It was a harrowing mixture of terror, sorrow, and complete hopelessness.