Shadow Magic

by Jayne Hawke

  I settled for laying my spare forearm along the wound, leeching the magic from him and watching the battle unfold. As my witch magic refilled far beyond baseline, I began to see the nature of the lines between the god touched and their deities, the subtle interplay of magic passing in both directions. I wondered if I could take the downstream only, keep the inflow of magic from their gods and leave them to be devoured by the outflow. The things I could do with that, if I could just get one of them in a cage long enough to unspin that thread... I pressed down on my euphoria and kept my witch magic from running wild. I wasn’t going to become a magical mad scientist. At least, not unless I needed to. I focused on the present and used the war-god abilities my father’s power granted me to analyse the situation.

  Ethan and Cade were still flowing easily, their magic pristine as they relied on their weight and their teeth. They didn’t need me. The enemies they were corralling would be dead in a couple minutes, no more injuries to either of them than a good massage would cure.

  Kerry, conversely, was having to use her death magic heavily. It wasn’t obvious as she grinningly spun, red in tooth and claw, but without the magic holding them at bay any of the god touched around her could kill her in seconds. Looking at the threads of it, she had to use it a lot. They were worn and reinforced, built and rebuilt like the muscles of a pro athlete. Strong because it had to be. I doubted anyone but me knew just how much of a struggle she had in keeping up with the pack. Was that what Matt’s magic would look like if this pack, our pack, had their way?

  When I thought of that, I felt a surge of protectiveness. I used it, seeing no reason to fight my instincts. I hefted my sword and knew it wasn’t going to do the job, not without a lot of ugliness. I could reach out and snap their tethers, but that was slow and exhausting. I thought about my daggers, now lost, but even they didn’t have the flair I wanted just then. The cool, silvery god magic wanted the perfect battle, and so I wanted it too. It was clear what this situation called for.

  With the Zeus magic still strong in my veins, I picked up the piled thunderbolts left in the wake of the boys’ kills. I knew how to form the magnetic barriers in my hand to hold the electricity, knew how to throw them like an Olympic javelin thrower. I knew what it was to cast down gods and monsters with the tools of Hephaestus. Mostly, I knew how to give Kerry a moment of rest she richly deserved.

  I fitted the dropped bolts back into their braces, picked up both braces, and began to throw lightning at the crowd slowly grinding its way through the voluminous cloud of black death magic I alone could see. I threw for centre mass, drawing on the combined magic of Zeus and my father to give me the skill needed to wield the unfamiliar weapon like a master. I knew it wouldn’t last, but it didn’t need to. A loud crash of thunder followed the first bolt, the foe closest me dropping with his strings cut. Another crash, and another dropped. A third, a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth all landed in sequence, the noise deafening.

  A short, stocky Gaia follower was coming towards me, aiming to avenge his friends. My first bolt hit him directly in the forehead, stunning him, but he quickly pushed forward again. It looked like primordial earth mages were as sturdy as you might imagine. I threw another, and again he shrugged it off, continuing to trudge towards me. This was going to take more subtlety, it seemed. I reached into a bolt with my witch magic, spinning a tiny thread to place the bolt into the frequency at which the magical strings could be seen, and threw it directly at his tether to Gaia. It exploded in a shower of light, and he dropped to the ground. One more bolt to his now-mortal form, and he was dead.

  At last, there was only one left, a bulky Odin witch. His connection to his god was strong, and no lightning god ever died of lightning. I dropped the bolts and rushed him, sword still in my hand, but he was dead before I took two paces. Kerry stared into his eyes as he died, a look of playful serenity on her face as she sent him to the other side.

  I didn’t need to look up to know that Ethan and Cade were finished. It had been over a minute, and the thunder would no doubt have drawn the attention of their opponents, who could not have expected anyone but the dead Zeus god touched to be using the bolts. Anything left would have been evidence that I underestimated them, and the icy cool war magic that was slipping around my brain like quicksilver was quite certain that underestimating a fighter simply wasn’t something that happened to me.

  FIFTY-THREE

  I could feel them. The fallen gods. My father could be one of them. It took all I had to push my body up into a run as I headed towards the final room.

  Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Four fallen and two witches were strapped to wooden tables with metal manacles. Glass tubes emerged from their arms, abdomen, and legs. I could feel the pure magic flowing down those tubes into the silver flasks that were neatly lined up on the centre table.

  Blood coated the tables and stone floor around them. The stench of death and pain filled the air. They were all conscious, pain painted across their faces. The young witch’s eyes were starting to turn glassy. She wasn’t going to be able to fight for much longer.

  Taking a slow deep breath, I dug deep and pulled out every last thread of witch magic that I could find within myself. I brought my hands up near my mouth and swept them outwards in a quick outwards motion. My magic shattered the bindings around the gods and the witches. Their eyes flew open as they took a deep breath and colour began to return to their skin.

  Darkness edged in around my vision as my heart stuttered in my chest. I’d pushed too hard and drained everything I had. My legs began to wobble as a deep sadness filled me. I couldn’t leave Matt, he needed me. Ethan’s strong arms wrapped around my waist, and he helped me stumble towards the magic flasks on the centre table.

  “Take one,” the fallen god with white hair said.

  His voice was gruff as though he hadn’t used it in a while.

  “You have earnt it,” he said.

  The others made noises of agreement as they tugged at the tubes coming out of their naked and bruised skin.

  Ethan put a flask to my lips. I felt the purity of the thick viscous magic within. Taking a sip, the sweet clean taste of honey and snow coated my tongue. My body began to revitalise, and I pushed the flask away. That was their magic, and I wasn’t going to steal it.

  “I will not lose you,” Ethan growled.

  “I will survive. I just need sleep and food,” I said.

  The white-haired fallen sat up on his table, and I looked away as his small cloth fell away, revealing a little too much.

  “Thank you, daughter of Killian,” he said.

  “You know my father? Is he alive?” I asked.

  Hope filled me. There was a chance I could see my father again.

  “I did, and yes. I don’t know where he is, I don’t believe it is the hounds who have him, but he is alive. I owe you a debt. When you are ready, I will give you whatever you need,” he said as he stood.

  The other fallen gods and witches scrambled off their tables and filed out of the room past the pack.

  We’d done it. We’d saved the day.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Cade kept feeding me brownies and magic-packed chocolate on the entire ride home. Kerry had rung Matt and told him that, while we were injured, we were ok and on our way home. Dean had ordered what sounded like twenty people’s worth of Chinese takeaway.

  I couldn’t keep the happiness down or the grin off my face. It felt so incredible. I was surrounded by people I’d thought would be the end of me, and I was embracing my magic in a way that allowed me to save lives. A month ago, I would have thought that was the most ridiculous of dreams, but I was living it.

  Ethan smiled at me and squeezed my thigh.

  “We have some paperwork to fill in once we’ve eaten.”

  I deflated. The job was over. This was all going to come to an end.

  Ethan reached across and stroked his thumb along my jawline.

  “Don’t look sad, little fox, I’m offici
ally making you a member of my company and pack,” he said softly.

  I looked at him, and panic bubbled up. It was one thing to join him in his business - the money was certainly very good. The pack was a whole other thing.

  “I told you he didn’t want to let you go,” Cade said with a grin.

  “Don’t look so panicky. Being part of the pack means we can keep you safe. No one can touch you as long as you’re one of us,” Kerry said.

  She wasn’t wrong, but it was still a huge step.

  “You don’t have to move in with us, although I really would rather you did. If you’re going to stay in your house, we’ll have to fix it up, though,” Ethan said.

  I didn’t know what to say. It looked as though I’d found a new family in the last place I’d ever have thought to look.

  Continue Kit’s adventure with Blood Magic. Grab your copy now!

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