Wayward Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 2)

by Melinda Kucsera

  “You can’t just let this happen.” I didn’t raise my voice, but I tried to sound firm. “We can’t just do nothing. That we’re both feeling the same thing, that’s no coincidence, that’s…”

  Cullyn stopped abruptly in his tracks. “That’s what?” He spoke the words on a venomous tone, his almost-kindness of seconds ago vanished like snow in the sun.

  I had entered dangerous territory. Premonitions were forms of magic, after all. And if I felt it, and he felt it, then…

  Cullyn shook his head and opened the door to my cell. “Just get in. I’ll come get you in the morning.”

  As soon as I had stepped inside, Cullyn slammed the door shut behind me. The lock clicked, and I was a prisoner again.

  If he felt it, and I felt it, then it was…

  Magic.

  Magic that was, despite the Red Priests’ efforts, despite their quest for its extinction, very much alive, and very much active right here, in the middle of their very own stronghold.

  I wondered what the Red God thought about that.

  Chapter Five

  That night, it took forever until I fell asleep. With each passing hour, the dread growing in my stomach came more and more tangible. Like a monster, it devoured me from the inside out, until it was present in every cell of my being, in every fiber of my body.

  Then, all of the sudden, I was back in the infernal cage. Thunder raged all around me, and I was surrounded by clouds as black as the darkest night.

  Sleep had come for me after all.

  “Your magic is strong.” The abrupt sound of Veritas’ voice startled me.

  He was standing behind me, as perfect, gorgeous, and unnatural as I remembered him. Too flawless to be true, to be real.

  “Who are you? What do you know about magic?” I gestured at the runes marking his face, neck, arms, every bare part of him I could see. “Aren’t those meant to keep magic at bay?”

  Veritas chuckled. “Long before those Red Priests learned to use runes to keep magic at bay, runes were used for exact the opposite purpose. To embed lifeless objects with magic. To strengthen a magician’s powers. To think runes can only be used to block magic is an absurd train of thought.” “How do you know all this?” The first time I had dreamt about Veritas, I had been in awe of his beauty. But now, I was wary of him. Who was he? Why was he locked up? What did he want from me? And how did he know so much about magic and runes?

  Veritas shrugged. “Those Red Priests will tell you nothing. Tell me, Saleyna, have they kept you from joining their runecraft teachings already? Are they keeping things from you?”

  I stared at the floor, reluctant to answer. “Yes.” While I felt no loyalty toward the Red Priests, I certainly didn’t feel any towards this mysterious man either.

  “That’s because they’re terrified of what will happen when someone finds out the truth. That the runes they use are infinitely more powerful than the Red Priests care to acknowledge. That the magic you could wield with them…” Veritas came closer toward me, until his face was so close to mine our noses almost touched.

  I balled my hands into fists, willing myself not to step back. I couldn’t let him know that I was afraid of him.

  Veritas leaned forward and played with a string of loose hair next to my ear. “It would be magnificent,” he said, in a tone that was as seductive as it was terrifying. “Your magic is already so strong on its own. This afternoon, when you used it to pry the other acolytes’ minds, it tasted amazing. Like the most melodious symphony ever written, like the sweetest nectar ever created.”

  “You… you felt that?” My throat became as dry as sandy paper. Who was he? Or, perhaps more importantly, what was he?

  “Of course, I did,” Veritas replied. “I felt you the moment you stepped foot inside the Keep. Your magic calls to me, as mine does to you.”

  I shook my head. “Your magic doesn’t call to me.”

  He chuckled, stepping back and letting go of my hair. “Then, why are you here, Saleyna Loxley? If it’s not my magic calling to you, then what is it?”

  I could finally breathe again now he had moved away. “I don’t… Nothing is calling to me. I have no idea how I got here!”

  “That’s because it’s your magic’s doing.” Veritas smirked, the smug look of someone who knew he was right. “Your magic has a mind of its own, Saleyna. A powerful mind. It’s been locked up for so long, struggling to find a way out. Why do you think that while the other mages no longer have any access to their magic, you do? Why do you think that, even with that rune binding your magic, it’s still strong enough to probe an entire room of people and read their thoughts?”

  I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t ready to hear it.

  Even though somehow, I had always known the truth.

  “Because it’s wayward magic, Saleyna,” Veritas replied, looking me straight in the eyes. “The kind of magic strong enough that it could destroy continents, if only you would set it free.”

  I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat. “You mean, strong enough that if it wasn’t bound, it would kill me from the inside out.”

  Like it killed my mother.

  Veritas took my hands, shaking his head.

  I wanted to pull free from him, but his grip was too strong. Even though he was just touching me lightly, the strongest man alive wouldn’t be able to escape from that grip.

  “Not if you learn how to release it, channel it,” Veritas said while his gaze met mine. “Not if you learn how to take that wayward magic and to wield it into a weapon, powerful enough to get you everything you ever wanted. Powerful enough to reshape the world to how you’ve always wanted it.”

  I licked my lips. His words terrified me even more than his presence.

  “I can teach you,” Veritas offered. “Teach you how you can use your magic. To stop the Red Priests from harming other mages. To influence the High King so that he changes his mind about the decree banning magic. To do whatever it is you’ve always wanted to do.”

  I shook my head. “No…”

  “If you don’t let me teach you,” Veritas said, “your magic will kill you. It will fester inside your veins, too powerful to be held in your body, and it will destroy you from within.”

  As it had destroyed my mother.

  “I want to help you understand your magic, Saleyna,” Veritas said. His tone made it sound as if he really cared, but that could just be a farce. After all, he didn’t know me. And he was locked up in a cage. There had to be a reason for that.

  Then again, I was locked up in a cell, too, and the mark on my forehead was locking up my magic in an invisible prison.

  In this world, we were all prisoners in one way or another.

  I stared him up and down, seizing him up, and making my choice.

  “I’m listening.”

  Will Freya survive the initiation ritual, or is Saleyna’s terrible premonition correct? How will Veritas teach Saleyna to control her wayward magic? Is her magic strong enough to fight the Red Priests, and to stop them from hurting anymore mages? Is her magic powerful enough to change the Seven Kingdoms? And can Saleyna withstand her growing attraction toward the Red Priest, Cullyn?

  Find out in the Forgotten Magic now!

  About the Author

  Majanka Verstraete studied law and criminology, and now works as Legal Counsel. Ever since she learned how to read, she dreamt about writing books. She writes about all things supernatural, her books ranging from children’s picture books to young adult novels, all the way to new adult academy and reverse harem books.

  For more information about the author, please visit http://majankaverstraete.com

  Don't forget to grab your copy of next anthology, Forgotten Magic.

  Portals of Valond

  Toasha Jiordano

  Previously, in Runes of Valonde, James was sworn to hide his true identity, and magical powers from the inhabitants of this realm called Earth. When he was forced to use those powers in public, he called upon h
is Elders in his home realm to save an innocent man.

  This did not come without a price.

  Now, James finds himself alone on this strange Earth with a mute son and a missing wife. Margaret finds herself in the clutches of an evil tyrant and his magical beast. As they rush to save each other and both realms, the powers at hand rush to stop them, by any means necessary.

  Toasha Jiordano

  Dragons * Swords * Magic * Portals

  Love knew no bounds like the one James and Margaret held for each other. It was their love that ultimately gambled with the Earth’s future and lost.

  Imprisoned in a barren land in nothing but her night clothes, Margaret must overcome her fears and her captors to find her way back to her beloved James and their endangered son.

  Abandoned in a world not his own, James is left to care for himself and their son who refuses to speak since watching his mother get sucked into a magic ball of light. James swore to protect Margaret at all costs, but neither of them expected their son to be the price.

  Chapter One

  Margaret opened her eyes. The light around the room was blinding. Or was it a room at all? She couldn’t tell. The space felt so vast, yet the breath squeezed out of her lungs as if caught in a vice. That’s when she remembered.

  Cold talons pressed against her flesh, tearing into her one fine point at a time. The air smelled of green flames, a particular kind of magic. How could she forget?

  “I see you have awakened, my Queen,” came a brusk, hate-filled voice, one she knew all too well. A sour maleness overtook the electric charged scent of portals and crackling dragon fire.

  “Raynor,” Margaret snapped, effecting her best monarchal tone. “What is the meaning of this?” As she attempted to rise and brush the sand from her dress, the dragon’s claw tore deeper into her side. She yelped but caught the cry before it carried far beyond her lips. Raynor’s love of inflicting pain was legendary throughout the kingdoms. She would not deign to give him such pleasure. “Unhand me!”

  King Raynor stepped around his wretched dragon, Sabadtein, and into Margaret’s line of sight. He seemed thinner and paler than when she’d last encountered him. Tyranny had not been good to the former hero. His heeled boot clicked on the hard floor’s surface with each footfall. So, they were indoors. “Now, if I give in to every whim of our dearly departed Queen, am I not as pathetic as the rest of your lackeys?”

  The way Raynor involuntarily moved his head gave Margaret the impression that her men were nearby. If only she could get to them somehow and make her presence known. Maybe they could save her from this monster.

  “No good will come of this.” Margaret’s skin prickled where the dragon breathed its green smoke down on her. The magic seeped into her blood, drawing out every ounce of energy.

  “Oh, I believe much good has already come of this.” Raynor made a low noise under his breath, which caused Sabadtein to grip Margaret tighter. “You see,” he said, pausing to smile at Margaret, revealing brown and broken teeth – a testament to surviving many battles on this side of the portal. “You are here, with me… at my mercy one might venture, and your precious James is out there.” Raynor pointed a long, crooked finger to the empty space where the portal once hung. Its blue light faded to nothing, snuffed out by the oppressive darkness.

  King Raynor’s use of James’s assumed name wasn’t lost on Margaret either. He had been watching them in their new world for some time. All of this had been planned, and now executed, but to what end? Surely, she wasn’t the one he’d been after. That portal had to be for James… or worse yet, their son.

  Jim was but a child. Innocent and utterly vulnerable against Raynor’s schemes. It’s why they had fled Valonde in the first place, ran for his life. Raynor had sworn to never let them go. And now...

  Margaret shook her head. Now was the time to focus. She was here, wherever here was, not James or little Jim. That meant Raynor’s plans had to adapt. There was still a way out. If she could get the upper hand, out maneuver him while he was off his game, she could escape. She needed to escape, to rescue her men. To get back to Earth.

  Chapter Two

  James still found himself on the floor minutes, or hours, later. With Jim cradled in his lap, they rocked back and forth in silence. Time whirred faster than the speed of light all around them. The sun rose outside their grimy farmhouse window, then set again without ceremony. At some point, there came a knock at the door, then worried voices, then nothing. The world went quiet. And there they sat, unsure of what to do next.

  Margaret was gone.

  The phrase played in his head so many times each word lost its own meaning and tasted like dust. One jumble of sounds after another.

  It took much longer than it should have, longer than James cared to admit, to realize the lad hadn’t spoken since releasing the rune. Or since the rune released them, he corrected. Jim had lain, placid, for more than a day in his father’s arms.

  James wondered for a moment if he, too, had fallen mute. Had he spoken her name out loud or in his heart?

  Though, it meant no matter. The lad’s lips had never quelled for longer than a second, even in sleep. No, his worst fears became truth that day.

  Margaret was gone and Jim, in his own way, was too.

  Everything he’d fought so hard to protect his young family from, everything he fled his home world to escape was happening anyway. Now.

  James nudged his son, gentle at first, then more urgent. Soon, the most violent shaking he could force himself to inflict upon the lad elicited no response. Jim didn’t even tense or try to pull away. He was lost, mentally and physically.

  “Please, lad,” James begged. “I’m here with ye. I’m sorry. But dinna fash. Da will make it better. Just come back to me. Come back.” Though it was his son’s thin frame James clung to, his plea lifted to the heavens of both realms. “Come back.”

  James stared, unwavering, at the empty space in his living room where the portal once crackled. It amazed him that the small television set he’d just bought Margaret for her birthday still sat unused. So much had happened to them in these past few days; he never set it up for her. And now…

  “Come back… come back…” James chanted to both his lad and his wife.

  Jim’s head hurt. His eyes and his skin and his whole body hurt. So many people kept calling him in his mind, wanting him to come with them far away from his Ma and Da.

  Why? He’d let go of the pretty rock. Why didn’t they stop?

  Through his tears, Jim looked to the empty space in the air where the giant light stole his ma. The bad man’s monster got her and it was all his fault. Why did he touch the rock? They had told him not to touch it so many times and every night he woke up standing in front of the drawer.

  He didn’t mean to touch it this time either. He just woke up and it was there, in his hands, talking to him with every voice in the world at once. Making him talk all those funny words.

  His head hurt so bad now. If only he could go to sleep. That would make it all better. But he couldn’t. Da needed him. The voices said so.

  Jim felt his da’s tear drop, hot on top of his head, but didn’t move. He didn’t do anything. When his Da shook him and begged him to talk; nothing would come out. Jim saw how bad it scared his Da, but he had to stay quiet. Da wouldn’t like what he had to say.

  It was better this way. Let Da get it all out while he could. Let him rest a while and be together one last time before he went to get the thing. The thing wouldn’t work, but Da didn’t need to know that. He needed to think he was helping.

  And then, then Jim could save them both.

  Together, huddled on the floor they rocked. Da chanted, “Come back,” to his Ma for countless hours until he stood and picked Jim up.

  Jim let Da carry him like a baby just this once. It made both of them feel a little bit better, and his Da would remember this day for the rest of his life.

  Chapter Three

  Margaret wasted no time lung
ing to mount an attack on the dragon holding her. Although it didn’t get her far - the dragon tightened its grip around her midsection - it did give her the element of surprise. It was also her first chance to size up the beast that could kill her at any moment.

  Sabadtein, as King Raynor had called him, looked to be hundreds of years old. A wiry gray tuft of hair sprouted from his pointed chin. His horns, turned back and twisted like a daemon’s, stretched halfway down his long serpentine neck. His mouth, which now stood agape after her struggle, had lines etched deep around his snout.

  Margaret considered the fact that she never realized dragons could get wrinkles as she swiped at Sabadtein’s open mouth with her bare hands. Snatching her in the middle of the night in only her bed clothes had left Margaret at somewhat of a disadvantage. Thinking it was enough to scare her into submission had left Raynor at an even greater disadvantage.

  “I said unhand me!” Margaret roared, and pulled back a handful of gray dragon beard.

  King Raynor raised a hand to strike Margaret. Still, he’d made the grave error of leaning into her face to taunt her moments earlier. With his own long white beard nearly touching Margaret’s birthmark on her cheek, a vehement sign of disrespect in her land, Raynor couldn’t see Sabadtein’s reaction to being plucked.

  No sooner had Raynor reared back to strike Margaret, Sabadtein let out an indignant roar. Green flames licked the tarnished crown atop Raynor’s head. As the ailing king stumbled away, swatting at his singed hair, Margaret noticed one of the crown jewels was missing from its setting. She filed that piece of information away for later and wasted no time prying the dragon’s talons from around her.