Devon Monk - Magic on the Storm
Yeah, well, instinct would just have to suck it.
Chase, knife in one hand, caught the weight of Zay’s spell on the edge of her blade and tore it apart. She re-drew and recast that magic into something else, flicked it low at Zay’s feet.
He dodged. The spell burned after him. He tucked and rolled over the spell, sliced it apart with the machete, and was on his feet again.
In Chase’s other hand was a sword. Not a machete, no. This thing was beautiful, slick, graceful, powerful. Maybe a katana. It burned, not with flame, but with darkness. The air around it seemed darker than the night, and wavered as if heated.
Chase cut a spell into the air with the tip of the blade.
Zayvion closed the distance.
Blades and magic met, clashed. Fire exploded on a viscous wind. Terric, standing inside his Containment spell, turned his face away from the blast, adjusted his grip on the spell, and did something that extinguished the fire.
Silent. I heard nothing. Smelled nothing. Felt nothing but the hard-hitting heartbeats at my wrist. The Containment Terric held was amazing. It made it seem as if there were no one on the grounds, no fight, no magic. Nothing but a quiet night in a quiet field.
Zayvion pressed Chase, chanting, even though I couldn’t hear him, the machete in his hand flicking like a rapier, then slashing out like a broadsword. The blade changed as he used it, and used magic to morph it, a wicked weapon of speed, power, steel, and magic.
Chase gave ground, breathing hard. She was bleeding-at least I think it was her blood that left a dark trail on the grass behind her.
I’d fought with Zay. I knew the punishment he could inflict on the practice mats. And that had been sparring. I had no idea how Chase endured his assault.
Why didn’t she give up? What did she think? That she could beat him down? And then what? Kill him with Terric standing by? Kill Terric too? Run? It didn’t make sense. Zayvion was the best at what he did. And it didn’t look like he had any trouble not pulling his punches.
Chase was not stupid. She was a Closer. She certainly wasn’t foolish enough to take on Zayvion and Terric alone.
The soft moth-wing flutter of my dad in my head brushed behind my eyes. Then snapped so hard, I gasped. Stars flickered at the edge of my vision, and my dad’s awareness pressed down on me like an avalanche.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong with this whole thing.
Zay had said where we found Chase, we’d find Greyson. So where was he?
The flutter behind my eyes flicked hard again. Pain snapped at my temple. Allison, Dad breathed. Behind you.
I turned, and dropped Sight just as the man-no, not man; Shame-lifted his hands and threw the world at my head.
Chapter Fourteen
I dodged, and wove Block. As I crouched, Block surrounded me in a defensive shield.
Shame’s spell burned past me, leaving a scorched stink of burnt cherries in its wake. While one part of my mind was pulling out the swearwords, the other couldn’t understand how he could have missed. Shame dealt Death magic. He was a master at it. If he wanted to hit something, that thing got hit.
I pulled my machete, to block his next attack.
Instead of attacking, he stood there, breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists in front of him, head tipped down so that I could not see his eyes.
But it was the smell of sweet cherries that told me exactly what was going on. Blood magic.
Chase had marked him, cut his gut. Bound him to her with blood. Now she was using him.
Holy shit. I’d thought he was going to call his mom.
Shame’s fists shook and the fingers of his right hand slowly opened, one at a time.
“Don’t,” he said, one ragged word. “Don’t let the bitch.”
He groaned. His hand jerked into the beginnings of another glyph. The grass beneath him was drying up, going brown as he drew on Death magic to fight her control over him.
Or-and this would be on my list of bad things-maybe she drew on Death magic through him to use it on me.
Shame tipped his head up, eyes burning with hatred. Sweating, teeth bared in a growl. Furious.
“Fuck her hard,” he said through clenched teeth.
To do that, I’d have to knock Shame out. He knew that. And he was buying me time.
I dropped Block, and stood back up while calmly reciting a mantra. I drew a spell for Sleep.
Not an angry spell, something a parent would use on a fussy child.
It’s always the simple things that no one expects to work.
Of course, I put so much magic into it, Shame would be out hard and fast.
His eyes narrowed, but I thought I saw him nod.
I finished the spell, and hurled it, filled with all the magic burning in my body, my bones. I threw it at Shame with everything I had.
He jerked, but didn’t lift a hand to block. He held his ground and let the spell hit him full force.
Gutsy. Like staring down a heat-seeking missile.
I felt an echoed flash of pain at my wrist, his anger-and that man knew how to hate-and then his eyes rolled back in his head. He crumpled to the ground.
Terric’s heartbeat sped up, his worry bleeding through.
Okay, maybe there was a downside to being connected to one another.
Greyson, my father said in my mind, his voice growing louder. Find Greyson.
For once, I was already ahead of him. Let Zay deal with Chase; let Terric cover our tracks. I was going to handle the real problem here-Greyson.
And since I had my dad, at least part of him, in my head, and Greyson very much wanted to get his slathering jaws on him, I was pretty sure I could find him easier than anyone on this side of death.
I glanced at Zay and Chase and Terric. They were gone. Nothing but an empty field met my gaze. Right. I’d let go of the Sight spell.
Okay, let me add awesome Illusionist to Terric’s qualities. I drew Sight again, and sucked in a hard breath.
Terric pulled in a huge amount of magic from deep beneath the ground to fuel the Containment. He was breathing hard and steady, like a man enduring a brutal run. I knew he wasn’t about to drop, but I also knew there was a limit to his endurance.
Zayvion beat Chase back against the Containment. She stabbed her knife into the wall of magic Terric had created and drew the magic out of it, channeling it directly at Zay.
Not a spell. Not a glyph. She sent a raging stream of magic burning at Zay like a flamethrower.
Zay held one hand out, palm forward, blocking the flame like some superhero in a movie. Magic poured around him, flaring and sparking metallic colors, filling the Containment space. But it could not get through the walls Terric held.
Zay should cast a spell to knock her out. He should smack her with the blade, hell, punch her, tackle her.
Instead, Chase yelled. I couldn’t hear what she said, but I guessed it was a spell.
And the Illusion that Chase had been casting, holding this entire time, shattered.
Fast. Too fast.
One heartbeat: Chase fell to her knees.
She redirected the stream of magic. Past Zay, who ran now, toward her, trying to stop her.
Magic poured past him. Just like she wanted it to.
Poured into the shadowy figure who ran on all fours, liquid, faster than any man, even Zayvion, at Terric. It was Greyson. Greyson running toward Terric.
I whispered a mantra. Maybe it was a prayer. Pulled on as much magic as I could contain.
Greyson leaped at Terric.
Terric raised one hand. Slow. Too slow.
Zay twisted. Threw a spell at Greyson.
Chase was talking, singing, chanting.
Giving her magic, feeding Greyson.
And waiting.
For the second Zay’s back was turned.
For this second.
She threw her knife.
I yelled. Cast Hold. End. This had to stop. Something had to stop this. I had to stop this.
Greyson tore into Terric, knocked him down, sank teeth into his shoulder.
Magic slid under my feet, skipped, skittered, and was gone. The storm did it again-pulled magic out of my reach.
It was like someone had hit an off switch for me personally. I was empty. The magic I cast fizzled out before it even reached them.
I ran.
Chase’s knife found its target, buried hilt deep into Zay’s back. He yelled. And I heard it. Because Terric’s Containment was down.
Chase chanted. Fast, guttural. She was crying. And she was casting a spell.
The bitch.
Apparently magic was still working for her.
Zay stumbled, touched the ground with one hand, and pushed back up. Running. Pounding forward.
He was almost on Greyson. Spells and steel. He swung the machete.
Thunder rolled, a hard, crushing crack I felt in my bones. A gate between life and death burned into the air, yawned open between Terric and Zay.
Chase was a Closer. She knew how to close gates. She knew how to open them too.
Greyson let go of Terric, and lunged at Zayvion.
He leaped through the gate. From one side to the other. Onto Zay.
Terric rolled up on his knees. Raised a hand, threw magic at Greyson, at the gate.
Zay swung his sword, chanting a spell of pain and death.
But it was Greyson I heard. His growl. His howl. As he drank down all the magic, everything Terric threw. Everything Chase offered. Everything Zay swung. Sucked it all in. Then howled as Zay’s machete sliced into his ribs.
Except there was no blood.
What there was, was Greyson. Standing. More man than beast now. Muscled, naked, angry. Insane.
He cast magic, in exact and perfect rhythm and beauty with Chase.
Soul Complements.
Beautiful, battered, she moved up behind Zayvion, holding him trapped, the magic from her hands, the magic from Greyson’s hands, caging Zay and burning into his skin.
Burning into me.
Soul Complements. Rarest of the rare. We shared each other’s pain.
Just because Chase and Greyson hadn’t tested didn’t mean they weren’t meant for each other. Didn’t mean they couldn’t use magic together. Didn’t mean they couldn’t make magic do things it was never meant to do.
Didn’t mean they couldn’t become one person, one caster, one soul.
With one desire.
Kill Zayvion Jones.
I was almost there, almost there. My heart ran faster than my feet. My mind spun.
Greyson and Chase cast, chanted, bent magic to their will. Made it beautiful. Horrifying. And tore Zayvion apart.
Hold on, hold on, hold on. A chant, a fear I could not contain. Spilling out of me. With my breath. With his blood.
I could feel Zayvion’s heartbeat slowing. Too slow. Thudding. Heavy. Gone. Watched him fall to the ground. For a second, a moment, I saw him, on the ground, but also standing next to himself-seven-foot-tall warrior clothed in nothing but black flame and silver glyphs. Freed from his body, he still carried a shadow of the machete.
He swung it at Greyson’s head.
Just as Chase cast another spell, and threw it at the gate.
Greyson roared, a yell, more beast than man. The gate exploded, tendrils of magic whipping out tentacles, like fire, like a nightmare I could not stop, could not reach, could not end.
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