The Cost of Magic

by S T G Hill

“Ellie, you have to choose,” the shadow figure, the Gem itself, said.

  “Choose what? Why me?” Ellie said. Her voice made no sound, she realized. But she could hear it.

  So, too, could the Gem of Orlyon.

  “The only choice. The one only you can make.”

  The one thing Ellie wanted more than the getting the Gem out of her mind was answers. And they felt so tantalizingly close.

  “Is that why Belt wants me? Because he wants me to decide in a certain way?”

  She couldn’t be certain because of the dimness, but she thought the figure ahead of her frowned.

  “The choice is not Darius Belt’s, no matter how he wants it to be so. The choice is yours. You are the lock and the key, Ellie. Only you. Have you chosen?”

  Ellie spread her hands in confusion, “I have no idea what I’m supposed to choose!”

  “Of course you do…”

  In reality—the reality not in her mind—Ellie’s lips went from pink to blue. One of her eyes unfocused while the pupil of the other tightened.

  Had she been conscious, she would’ve experienced the agony of her burning lungs begging her to take a breath.

  “Ellie…” Arabella said, “Ellie, are you there? I think we should stop.”

  “Don’t you dare!” Matilda shouted at her.

  “I think it’s working!” Marta added.

  “I’m going to stop soon if she doesn’t come out of it on her own,” Arabella said. Then she moved her face closer to Ellie’s. “Make it happen quickly, Ellie.”

  Ellie’s cheek had gone cold and corpselike against Arabella’s palm. The fragment of unicorn horn had grown hot. Almost too hot to touch anymore.

  Ellie noticed very little of this.

  “What did you do to me? Where did you take me for six months?” Ellie said.

  “We left Belt and came to the city. Your city.”

  “And that took six months? I think we could’ve walked faster.”

  “We went to your city. And we went to the time where you needed to be. We were not gone six months. It did not take six months. We went six months.”

  Ellie’s jaw gaped. Or her mental representation of her jaw did. She couldn’t be certain. “You took us forward in time? But that’s impossible! Belt said it was…”

  “Darius Belt is wrong.” The shadow stepped closer, and for just a moment Ellie thought she recognized it. “You must choose.”

  Before Ellie could reply, she heard it.

  Heard Arabella’s pleading voice. “Ellie, come on! She’s dying!” that last part sounded like she said it to someone else.

  And then Ellie felt it. Felt her body and its state, also for just a moment. Felt the chill of the grave spreading through her arms and legs. Felt the awful burning of her air-starved lungs.

  She felt something hot, too. Like a glowing coal against the side of her face.

  I’ve spent too long in here, she realized. Her attention focused once more on the figure of the Gem.

  “I want you out of my head. Get out.”

  “That is not the choice…”

  “I don’t care. You’re killing me. Get out. Get out now.”

  “Ellie…”

  “Now!” she screamed it so loud that her body shook in the Pitarelli basement.

  The Gem didn’t want to go, she knew. It struggled. But it had to go, because she’d told it to.

  Her mind wrenched. She seemed to tumble forever. Part of her wondered if she’d broken any bones, or hurt Arabella.

  Then her eyes, her actual eyes, focused and she found herself sitting just as she remembered.

  Except her lungs seared within her chest. She felt so cold.

  “Ah!” Arabella said, wincing.

  She dropped the horn fragment, which glowed white hot for a moment before hitting the rug.

  Ellie dragged in as much air as she could, over and over.

  “Are you okay?” Arabella said, “Ellie, are you okay?” She grabbed Ellie and pulled her into a hug.

  “Fine. Mouth’s a little dry…” Ellie said, returning Arabella’s hug.

  “Is that…?” Matilda pointed.

  They all looked.

  The Gem of Orylon darkled and glistered on the rug to Ellie’s right, close enough she could touch it if she wanted.

  The light in the basement dimmed, as though drawn into the Gem’s smooth and glossy surface.

  Marta drew towards it, her mouth open a little and one hand reaching.

  “Don’t!” Ellie said, painfully aware of the consequences of actual physical contact with the Gem.

  Her sudden shout, loud in the small space, brought Marta to her senses and she withdrew. Her eyes lingered, however.

  Then Matilda stepped forward. “Well? We have the Gem. Do you have your magic?”

  Ellie closed her eyes and concentrated. Power flowed within her. Or she thought it did, anyway. Hoped it did.

  When she opened her eyes she lifted her hands up. They glowed. Both forearms glowed from the elbows down to the tips of her fingers.

  “I think so,” Ellie said.

  Arabella leaned forward and hugged her. Ellie hugged back. Matilda didn’t join in, instead clutching herself, smiling just a little.

  No one noticed Marta pull herself up a couple of the risers on the staircase so that she could raise her hand without it hitting the ceiling.

  No one noticed the signal that she sent. Or how, with her hands pressed to the walls, she undid her sister’s warding. The warding that kept unwanted magical attention from the house.

  “I’m sorry,” Marta whispered.

  Chapter 49

  “I have to text Peter,” Ellie said, untangling herself from Arabella’s embrace.

  She pushed to her feet, wincing at how sore and stiff her legs felt. Scratch that, how her whole body felt.

  The ache was the likely reason that she didn’t recognize the warning tingle in the back of her thoughts until it was too late.

  A breach portal opened in the back of the basement. One that peered into a familiar office, the shelves now mostly void of their former artifacts.

  Marta sat on the stairs and covered her face with her hands, muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over.

  “Ellie…”

  They recognized that voice. Immediately, a terrified chill rushed out from Ellie’s stomach.

  Thorn knelt near the back wall of the basement, his face a mask of regret. Glowing magical bonds held his wrists tight together.

  Caspian stood to Thorn’s right, and Darius Belt to Thorn’s left. Belt placed a paradoxically protective hand on Thorn’s shoulder.

  “Thorn!” Matilda screamed.

  At the same time, Arabella whirled around to offer an accusing stare at her sister. “I trusted you!”

  Ellie looked at the Gem of Orlyon, which sat impassively on the rug.

  Matilda rushed forward, but Belt held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. No closer or I will kill him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Thorn said.

  With a thought, Belt summoned the steel-banded strongbox from his office. It landed on the floor beside him with a heavy thump.

  Then he whisked the Gem back into its velvet bed with a puff of magic.

  Ellie reached out with her own magic a moment too late. The strongbox zipped back into the breach portal, which closed behind Belt.

  Ellie couldn’t believe it. Then she remembered that she did indeed have her magic back. All of it.

  The anger poured into her. And along with it the power. Her feet lifted up off the rug. The air crackled with the static discharge of magic buildup.

  Belt directed his attention to her. “I will kill him, Miss Ashwood. As much as it would pain me. You know I will.”

  His hand tightened on Thorn’s shoulder.

  “I don’t matter, Ellie,” Thorn said, “Get out of here. Leave me.”

  “Of course you matter, Thorn,” Belt said, “You matter to her. And you matter to me, which makes this diff
icult.”

  “What do you want?” Ellie said, damping her anger enough so that she settled back down on her feet.

  “I want you, Miss Ashwood. Though you already know that. So I am going to make you an offer similar to the one at our last encounter.”

  Ellie stuck out her jaw, hands clenching into fists so tight her fingertips bit into her palms. “You aren’t killing them.”

  Belt nodded, “You’re right, but not in the way that you think. You see, I told you that I would only make that offer once, and I am not a liar. Here is your new offer…”

  Belt held out his other hand. Something whipped past Ellie. It was Arabella, Ellie realized with a cold dread.

  “No!” Marta rushed down from her spot on the stairs.

  But Belt already gripped Arabella by the back of the neck. He held her one-handed with her feet dangling over the floor, the top of her head brushing against the basement’s drop ceiling.

  Marta pushed past Ellie and fell prostrate in front of Darius Belt, who regarded her with hard eyes.

  “You told me that you wouldn’t hurt her! That was our deal!” Marta pleaded.

  “Put her down!” Ellie roared. The whole house, the whole city block, shook.

  Belt ignored Ellie for the moment. “No, Miss Thrace, I made no such promise. As I recall, I told you that Arabella will get what she deserves.”

  “I won’t let you!” Marta shouted. She launched herself at Belt, coruscating purple lightning twining around her entire body.

  Belt took his hand from Thorn’s shoulder long enough to slap Marta to the side. She hit the wall with a crunching sound that set Ellie’s teeth on edge.

  Then she groaned. She offered no more resistance, instead only sobbed where she lay.

  “Don’t,” Ellie took a step forward, the air beginning to crackle around her again. Her stomach twisted.

  “After everything that’s happened, you still don’t take this seriously, Miss Ashwood,” Belt said, “So I am afraid that I’m going to have to show you just how serious I am.”

  “Don’t do it,” Ellie said. She held a hand out, casting her mind towards Arabella, intent on rescuing her.

  Her spell tangled with a barrier cast up by Belt. Ellie pushed hard, felt it bend. But it did not break.

  Arabella struggled against Belt’s grip, her hands glowing as she struck at him. But she may as well have been attacking a steel wall for all the good it did. Her movements and her face filled with more panic with each passing moment.

  “Belt, please…” Ellie said.

  “Here is your new offer, Miss Ashwood. I strongly encourage you to accept it this time. The terms are as follows…”

  “Ellie…” Arabella said, their eyes meeting.

  Then Belt snapped her neck, breaking it as a normal man might break a toothpick with the side of his thumb.

  “No!” Ellie dropped to her knees.

  Cracks formed in the foundation of the house. Windows all up and down the street shattered as the earth trembled. Car alarms blared.

  Ellie heard none of it. Only that awful crack. It replayed in her head over and over.

  Belt dropped Arabella’s limp body from his grip without even looking. Arabella landed in an awful heap, her glossy, dark hair a curtain over her face.

  “The terms,” Belt said, magically magnifying his voice, “Are as follows. Surrender yourself to me here, now, and I spare Thorn’s life.”

  Thorn had brought his bound hands up to his face, but when he heard that he lowered them. Tears rushed down cheeks hot with anger.

  He looked at Ellie.

  “Don’t do it. Just go.”

  “We’re not leaving you!” Matilda said.

  “This isn’t your choice, girl,” Belt snapped his fingers.

  Matilda froze, turned to a human statue by Belt’s paralysis spell.

  She’s not dead. She can’t be dead. Ellie thought and prayed. Except her mind kept replaying it for her, over and over. That crack. The limp drop of her body.

  She saw as well the Williamsons slumping against each other as they also fell limply to the floor.

  “Your choice,” she heard Belt say.

  She swiped her wrist over her eyes. It came away wet, but at least she could see straight again. Ellie pushed herself slowly to her feet.

  “The Gem said it was my choice, too. Everyone keeps telling me I have to choose.”

  Belt frowned. “The Gem told you this?” Then he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You can come with me now and Thorn lives. Or you can come with me against your will and Thorn dies. Which do you choose?”

  “You can’t go with him, Ellie,” Thorn said.

  “She’s coming with me no matter what,” Belt patted his shoulder, “The question is whether you are coming with us, Thorn.”

  Then Ellie said some of the most difficult words of her life, “I… I can’t. I’m not going with you.”

  Belt can’t win. Not after all this. He can’t. I won’t let him.

  This gave Darius Belt actual pause. His small, victorious smile slipped from his lips. This he did not anticipate, nor foresee.

  Thorn leaned forward as far as Belt’s hand on his shoulder allowed, “Go, Ellie. Run.”

  She couldn’t do that either, though.

  “The Gem brought me forward in time,” she told Belt.

  He shook his head. “That is impossible. I’ve told you as much already.”

  “You’re wrong, the Gem told me that, too,” Ellie took a step forward.

  “But I’m not, you see,” Belt said. Then he looked down at Thorn, true sorrow in his eyes, “I’m sorry, my son.”

  Thorn met those eyes. “I’m not your son.”

  Those were his final words.

  Darius Belt stole the life from Thorn’s body, pulling it out through his hand, which glowed momentarily.

  Ellie fell to her knees as though he’d driven that fist into her stomach.

  “I am sorry,” Belt said. He took his hand off Thorn’s shoulder and Thorn flopped forward onto the basement floor. He did not stir.

  Nausea twisted in Ellie’s stomach. A hot ball of sick rose up her throat, but she choked it back down.

  She struggled to her feet and stumbled forward.

  Caspian moved to intercept her, but Belt stopped him. “Let her see. Let her realize.”

  She fell down beside Thorn and turned him over onto his back. She knelt beside him, his slack face gripped in her hands.

  “You’re not dead. You can’t be dead. I won’t let you,” Ellie said.

  “But he is,” Belt said gently, his voice full of sympathy and grief, “And it’s your fault. There’s nothing you can do for him. You know that as well as I.”

  “Stay away from him!” Ellie shrieked over her shoulder.

  A wave of magic slammed Belt back against the bare concrete of the basement. It cracked from the impact.

  Caspian moved forward again, and again Belt raised his hand. “No. I want her to see and know.”

  He still felt warm.

  He could’ve been asleep. But she knew that he wasn’t. His half-closed eyes stared ahead, and in them she saw emblazoned his final plea to her to run.

  She couldn’t run though, not anymore. Every time she ran, Belt found her. Every time he found her, he hurt her and the people around her.

  “You’re not dead,” she told him, “I won’t let you be dead.”

  Her hands glowed. Then her entire body. Except it wasn’t just a kinesist’s glow. All three branches of sorcery converged within her, all of them reached out towards Thorn.

  The light of it painted the basement a hot white. Caspian shielded his eyes. Belt stood with his hands clasped in front of him.

  “You can’t,” he told her, “The body can return, yes. But not the soul. Never the soul. You won’t like what sits up.”

  Ellie didn’t know it, but her eyes glowed. And when she cast them back at Belt even he flinched at the glare. “You’re wrong. About everything.” />
  Her voice shook the room. And even though she couldn’t make the connection at the moment herself, it was reminiscent of the way Chauncy’s—Amenhotep’s—voice sounded when he spoke.

  Belt made the connection, though. A small, concerned crease appeared between his eyebrows.

  “Come back to us, Thorn,” Ellie cradled his head in her lap, “Come back to me.”

  More and more power flowed through her, an unstoppable tidal wave of tingling, energizing heat.

  Belt’s composure broke. He moved forward. “Stop this. I won’t let you turn him into an abomination. He deserves better.”

  He tried to grab her shoulder. As soon as he touched her, that torrent of magic slammed into him. It shot him back once more against the basement wall. The whole house trembled at the impact.

  And when Belt looked up, shock and fear filled his eyes.

  “Master?” Caspian said.

  Ellie didn’t hear anymore. She channeled everything she could into her wish, into her need. She channeled it into that and then into Thorn.

  His body went stiff, his back arching up off the floor. His veins lit in brilliant white webs beneath his skin.

  His eyes opened and they glowed almost as hot as Ellie’s.

  Then his mouth opened and he took a breath. Then another.

  The power within them both receded. Thorn blinked, his head still cradled in Ellie’s lap and between her hands.

  Tears leaked down past his ears as he looked up at her. “Ellie?”

  Darius Belt pushed away from the wall, taking slow, cautious steps forward. “It can’t be. It isn’t possible. Thorn?”

  Thorn pushed himself up into a sitting position. Little webs of light still glowed dimly beneath his skin, fading fast.

  He looked up at Belt, “In the flesh.”

  The dead, Ellie inferred, couldn’t speak when reanimated. They couldn’t look at you with the same eyes they’d had while alive.

  Eyes that beheld Belt’s growing astonishment.

  Caspian looked from his master to Thorn, fear and wonder mingling on his face beneath his mop of white hair.

  Ellie wanted to kill them, Belt and Caspian both. But she sensed she’d drained much of her power already.

  She couldn’t kill them, but she could send them away.

  “It’s no matter,” Belt said, “You’re still coming with me.”