The pink-haired witch scrunched up her face and shook her head, clearly trying to look more interested in the last-minute preparations than in trying to figure out what the hell that meant.
‘Really?’ The bank clicked its tongue. ‘That’s all I get? Helpful like that sometimes? Do you have any idea how long it took me to squeeze my foundations into this beautiful work of art?’
Jessica folded her arms.
If I say yes, will you—
‘Twenty minutes, Jessica. That’s forever.’
She snorted, tried to cover it up with a cough, and raised her eyebrows at Leandras as he turned away from studying the casting circle on the dais to meet her gaze.
Today, he hadn’t made a single joke. He didn’t look particularly amused by any of this. And apparently, he didn’t care who noticed the Laen’aroth and the Guardian had a thing.
Which was probably everyone when he cupped her face with both hands and leaned in intensely close.
“Are you ready?”
“I have no idea,” Jessica muttered. “But we’re not stopping now.”
“No. Good.” He lowered his hands to her shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze most likely meant to be reassuring.
She couldn’t help but dart a quick glance toward Mel, who now stood beside Cedrick and muttered something to him. They both stared at Jessica with a mix of concern, surprise, excitement, and “what the fuck is going on?”
If it had been anyone else, she would have just assumed the expressions meant complete disapproval. But she imagined her friends’ reactions almost as clearly as she felt her own.
‘Not as clearly as you hear this beautiful voice, though.’
Yeah, you win.
“Jessica.”
She immediately returned her attention to Leandras and nodded.
“This is somewhat like the reckoning’s second phase,” he told her. “Far more of us gathered together today.”
“Yeah, and we’re summoning the bastard into the basement instead of trying to slap a coin on a table.”
His small smile flickered briefly. “Yes. There is that as well. Railen and the original Order will be joining us as well.”
With a frown, Jessica gazed around the basement the size of a ballroom and shook her head. “Wait, through the front door or the Gateway?”
Leandras opened his mouth to reply, paused, and frowned at the air above Jessica’s head. “It’s difficult to say...”
“Leandras, please tell me you know this is gonna work.”
“It will.” He caught her gaze again and grinned, tightening the pressure of his hands on her shoulders. “I have no doubt. The original Order will be here. That was their agreement with you, and the Laenmúr always keep their word. They’re rather like me in that way.”
“Oh, yeah.” Jessica snorted. “So they’ll hold up their end. We just have no idea if it’ll be today or in a few thousand years, right?”
“Jessica, they will come. Today. When we need them.” He finally released her and turned to gesture toward the dais. “You will be channeling our combined energy from the center. As you did before. The spell opens a doorway through which we’ll summon the Dalu’Rázj. Railen and his order will know when that is complete, and if they haven’t joined us already, they will at that point. They’ve been waiting far longer than anyone else in this room. Believe me, they will not let the opportunity pass them by.”
When he set his hand on the small of her back and leaned in closer to continue with the breakdown—which they’d gone over ad nauseum the night before until Jessica could no longer keep her eyes open—she looked at Mel and Cedrick again.
The changeling frowned at Leandras and raised an eyebrow. Mel was staring at the fae’s hand on Jessica’s back, and when she met Jessica’s gaze, that same questioning amusement remained.
Yeah. This was a thing, apparently.
They’d just have to deal with it, because there was no way to break whatever existed between Jessica and the Laen’aroth. The Emissary of Light.
“Laen,” Jessica muttered, and whatever Leandras had been saying cut off abruptly. “That means light, doesn’t it?”
He leaned away from her, his eyebrows raised in utter surprise before he graced her with a hesitant smile. “Indeed.”
“So the Laenmúr are...”
The fae snorted and looked her up and down. “Light’s Army.”
“Following a goddamn vestrohím? That’s one epic cosmic joke.”
“Yes, I was rather amused by the irony myself. Until I saw with my own eyes what that goddamn vestrohím is capable of.” He bit down on his bottom lip and leaned closer.
If he kissed her right now—in front of all these strangers and Jessica’s friends and minutes before they attempted a spell even deadlier than the one that had almost killed them both yesterday—Jessica wouldn’t have her head in the game at all.
And then they’d be screwed.
Leandras inhaled sharply and returned his attention to the center dais again instead.
Apparently, he’d thought the exact same thing.
“I have selected four others to join me in the final casting. Once the Dalu’Rázj has been summoned, we will work directly with you and those artifacts to end him. We must be swift, and the others have been informed that whatever challenges arise, the priority is to ensure no harm comes to you.”
“Until that last trapping spell is over,” Jessica muttered, staring at the dais.
“Well, I’d prefer your protection to extend far longer than that, but yes. At the very least, until the Hevrikai prison is complete.”
“Right.”
“You know the ritual.”
“Yeah.” Jessica puffed out a sigh. “Pretty sure I had a dream about reciting it.”
Leandras chuckled. “Good. We’re also perfectly clear on what you must not do. Correct?”
She looked up at him and found nothing but utter sincerity in his intense gaze. The Laen’aroth’s special brand of pre-war briefing was patronizing as hell, but that was just the way he worked. If it had been anyone else speaking to her like this, she would have punched them in the face.
‘You still can...’
And burn his face off before we start? No thanks.
Jessica nodded. “Yeah. Don’t try to fight him on my own. Focus on the casting. That’s it.”
“After last night, Jessica, I’m convinced you’ll do exceedingly well with this.”
She gave him a deadpan stare, and the fae man sworn to her for the rest of forever—or at least until the end of this battle, depending on how things went—flashed her a winning grin.
If they survived this, she’d definitely have to do something about that smile.
‘Head in the game, witch.’
Yeah, you too, bank.
“Jessica.” Steve stepped off the dais and headed toward them, giving Leandras a brief nod before he settled his gaze on her. “We’re ready.”
“Okay.”
“The other chapters have taken up their positions outside. Once we start, every faction of Hakali loyalists will know exactly what we’re trying to do. So this could get messy even before we finish the summoning.”
Jessica shrugged. “A bunch of gangs trying to stop us completing a spell? Not a problem. It’s already happened once before, right?”
Steve shot Leandras a wide-eyed look and pressed his lips together. “Not like this, Jessica.”
Unable to look at her, the warlock stiffly dipped his head and walked away.
No shit, this wasn’t like anything they’d ever done before. What happened to a little optimism?
‘Optimism?’ The bank barked out a laugh. ‘You know, I had my doubts about you up until... Actually until you dropped right back through the Gateway.’
Oh, thanks.
‘But you’ve come a long way, Guardian. And hot damn! Are you ready to do this or what? I know I am.’
Jessica would have laughed if Leandras didn’t pick that exact momen
t to lean toward her again and whisper in her ear, “Don’t hold back.”
She stared at him with wide eyes, and the fae fixed her with that ever-loving smirk before gesturing toward the dais again.
Time to do the impossible.
With a deep breath, Jessica made her way toward the center of the emergency-gathering basement and stepped up onto the dais. The casting circle was almost as intricate as the one Leandras had drawn for the Thon-Rothím. The artifacts they’d braved Xahar’áhsh to retrieve lay within a second circle drawn on the table, which also boasted half a dozen other trinkets and reagents she didn’t recognize. Those weren’t important, though.
The three artifacts the Laen’aroth had hidden away in his dying world for this exact moment were all she really needed.
The Umur’udal had been removed from its wrapping of tanned hide in which Ocaiye had offered it. For the first time, Jessica saw for herself what piece of the Dalu’Rázj she’d be using to power his undoing.
Not a hand. Not a foot or ear or even a more sensitive body part like the bank had jokingly speculated.
It was just a strip of flesh—gray like the cold, filleted meat of a fish; charred with black along the jagged edges; and covered in thick scars creating runic symbols of their own. Just like the scars that now covered Leandras’ body after he’d ripped this same magic out of himself to fill the emptiness with Jessica’s.
A glorious, terrifying shiver raced down Jessica’s spine and skittered over her shoulders, down her arms. So much power right here on this table, soon to be amplified to deadly proportions by the hundreds of Laenmúr staring at her, waiting for the signal.
Once she looked up from the table, she couldn’t gaze into any of the faces focused intently on hers. She had to keep her head in the game, so she stared at the far wall of the massive basement, across the sea of nameless faces who all knew who she was and what she was about to do.
‘And I’ll be with you the whole time,’ the bank whispered. ‘Nothing wrong with a little extra juice if you need it, right?’
No. Jessica would take every last bit of help she could get.
She spread her arms, took a deep breath, and nodded.
A single voice from behind her took up one more incantation. Probably Leandras. Jessica was too focused on not letting anything distract her to really pay attention to who it was. Slowly, more voices lifted to join in the chant, echoing in one constant drone of hundreds of voices moving as one. The casting circle drawn around the edge of the dais pulsed once with a soft yellow light, but Jessica knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.
This was just the beginning.
She closed her eyes and listened.
Apparently, her ability to understand and maybe even speak ancient Xaharí had vanished after completing the Thon-Rothím, but the words themselves were hardly as important. Jessica felt the energy brewing in the room, rising as it had in the warehouse to a trembling intensity.
Only this time, they had almost ten times as many Laenmúr offering their voices and their intention, and the magical energy crackling around and through and into Jessica was a lot more than ten times stronger.
It was everything.
And she was supposed to channel everything into these artifacts on the table in front of her before directing it all into one superpowered enemy and his eternal prison.
Sure. Simple.
Jessica’s eyes watered as the incantation grew louder. So much magic thrummed through her, she could hardly feel her fingers. Then she couldn’t feel her legs, and she slammed her hands down on the table to grip its edges and keep herself on her feet.
No one broke the chant. Maybe no one even noticed, because they were all focused on what they had to do so Jessica could play her part.
She gritted her teeth and let the agonizing, sublime, consuming power of so much magic flow through her.
If she’d been anything but a vestrohím, it probably would have ripped her open from the inside out. She thought it would until her own power took over and the bursting flicker of black smoke and sparks and a few scattered flames burst across her skin. The smoke dimmed her vision, as if she stared at the table now from behind a black veil.
Appropriate.
Her magic licked at the unseen but very real energy pulsing around her, taking tiny sips, lapping up a small taste here and there just to keep her sustained. It wouldn’t be enough to ruin the incantation or the summoning, but it was more than enough to finally, finally make Jessica feel like she could actually do this.
Something heavy slithered across the top of her shoe, but she couldn’t look down to see what it was. She did, however, think she heard a low hiss from beneath the table and the clack of skittering claws.
Was that—
‘Yep. The reptile wants to party, huh? Don’t worry, Jessica. I’ll handle it.’
She wanted to tell the bank not to bother, that it was too much of a distraction, but she could barely think. A low moan rose from her throat as she slowly tipped her head back and let her magic take what it wanted from this spell so it would continue to channel hundreds of sources all aimed at one final destination.
Her.
Jesus, she’d had no idea this was what it would feel like.
Jessica wanted more.
Another his scame from beneath the table.
‘You little... Come here.’
The intensity of the spell was almost too much. Jessica was lost to it.
Any second now, the doorway to the Dalu’Rázj would open, and Jessica would be here to pull him through.
Any second...
Like a first bite of food being snatched away from her lips, like sitting just off the mark to miss the seat of a chair, like being ripped away from the cusp of a magical orgasm, everything vanished.
The intensity of the channeled magic disappeared completely and sent Jessica reeling away from the table.
She stumbled backward and spun around, snarling and flaring with black light. “What the fuck just happened?”
No one answered.
Because no one else was there.
Not a single magical existed around her where there had been hundreds just seconds before. They were all back at the bank, still crammed into the emergency basement, and Jessica wasn’t.
With a gasp, she whirled around again and scanned the empty clearing, the frost-studded grass, the outcroppings of jagged boulders, the sliver of moon peeking over the tops of the trees in front of her in the freezing, misty twilight of morning.
The table was here. All the artifacts remained exactly as they’d been placed within the casting circle. And curled up beneath it, Confucius stared at her with glowing golden eyes and let out a furious hiss that matched her own.
This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Everything they’d been waiting to do was back at the bank, and she was here, in the middle of nowhere, with a spell she couldn’t cast on her own and a fucking lizard who’d hitched a ride.
Swallowing thickly and trying not to explode with rage and all the magic of the channeled spell she’d pulled into her just to make it possible, Jessica glared at Confucius and spat, “Did you do this? Because I swear, I will rip you to—”
“Don’t blame the vermin, Lilith.”
Jessica’s blood ran cold at the sound of that voice—the voice she’d never quite managed to get out of her head, the voice she’d heard in her nightmares.
“I brought you here. Thank you for the invitation, by the way. I had to decline meeting you with so much company over at your place, but where we are now is much better. Just you and me. Like I promised.”
With wide eyes, her heart pounding furiously, Jessica slowly turned around and found the same face from her nightmares staring back at her. The same black coat. The same burning lines of silver snaking across the Brúkii’s flesh like glow-in-the-dark scars.
Ten years later, and he looked exactly the same.
Except those glowing veins within his physical f
orm flickered every few seconds with a hint of eerie, otherworldly green.
Behind him, a vertical line of the same nauseating green light lined in flickering black slashed out of the sky. Slowly, ever so slowly, it widened.
The Brúkii spread his arms and grinned. “I told you I was coming.”
Fuck.
Chapter 29
A wordless cry ripped from Leandras’ throat when Jessica disappeared.
It was instantly replaced by the last words of the incantation uttered by hundreds of other magicals in the room, all of them caught within the web they’d woven and unable to react.
Jessica’s sudden and inexplicable disappearance left behind a final trail for the incantation to follow, then that too disappeared. The intensity of their magic was sucked from the room in an instant, and a hush fell over the gathering.
“No!” Leandras staggered forward toward the dais, but he already knew she was gone. Even the table and the artifacts for their spell were gone. Which meant someone had locked onto the casting circle itself to bring Jessica to them.
“This was not part of the plan!” Steve shouted, storming toward the Laen’aroth and pointing at the dais.
The fae sucked in a hissing breath and growled, “It most certainly is not.”
“Where is she?”
“I’m working on it.”
Steve scoffed. “You’re standing there with your eyes closed, fae. Do something!”
He ignored the warlock and the chaotic rise of confused voices muttering their own questions. Where was the Guardian? What was going on? Had they failed before they’d even started?
He even heard the bold witch with pink hair—Jessica’s friend Mel—muttering that they should never have trusted the Laen’aroth. That this was what Jessica had been afraid of all along.
Leandras dove into himself and let the rest of the gathering fade away beneath his concentration. Millennia of practice made it an instantaneous success, and he searched for the threads that bound him to one other soul. To his new Roth’akán. To Jessica.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t expected something like this to happen and hadn’t thought to tell her how closely linked they truly were. She had no idea how to call him, but he could find her.
The Spellcast Gate (Accessory to Magic Book 5) Page 30