Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3)

by Melinda Kucsera

  As much as Thing hated the law condemning magickers to death, Sarn was a living reminder of why that law existed. Teenagers shouldn’t have the power to level a city. But Sarn did.

  “Did you get anything?” Crispin asked a little too eagerly.

  Thing shook his head. Mind magic couldn’t solve every problem. Best his son learned that now. “No, his magic is too unstable.”

  “Then he’s still untrained.” Hope crept into Crispin’s voice.

  Thing hated to dash it, but he had no choice. “We don’t know what he’s been doing. He may not be the innocent boy we knew anymore. Circumstances change. So do people.” Humans were also weird, so anything was possible, but Thing kept that observation to himself.

  “I refuse to believe Sarn had anything to do with this except by accident. You saw him. There’s no darkness in him. He’s all light and magic. He must be in some kind of trouble.” Crispin dropped to all fours and readied for takeoff.

  How Crispin could see anything about that kid while Sarn was surrounded by so much magic, Thing didn’t know. “What if that trouble is his own making? He’s a powerful mage. He could summon a demon.”

  “Then why did you let him see you?” Crispin whipped his head around to glare at him. At least he wasn’t about to fly off and do something stupid anymore.

  “Why do you think?” Thing folded his arms over his chest.

  “You want him to come to us. So, you did see something in his mind.” Crispin grinned.

  “No, I pulled back when I encountered his magic. I had no idea how he’d react if I pushed. His magic is elemental. It prefers to smash first and ask questions later, and I like breathing.” It was Thing’s turn to glare. All this talking was making him crazy. They needed to take action, but what should they do now?

  “Will he come to us?” Crispin asked, and there was such hope in his voice. Thing didn’t want to dash it.

  “If he can. He might not be free to.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” Crispin looked at that green glow flickering in the distance, and his shoulders drooped.

  That didn’t bear thinking about, nor was it any of their business if that kid had fallen under someone’s spell unless Sarn tried to destroy the mountain. Thing ground his beak. He didn’t want to get involved in a teenage mage’s problems, not while his friend’s life hung in the balance, but he might have to.

  “Did you see the shards in there? I didn’t get a good look inside before you dragged me away.” Crispin shot him a pointed glare for that.

  “Yes, they were there, but I couldn’t get a good read on them.” Because Sarn’s magic had permeated the cave to such an extent, it had messed with Thing’s mage sight.

  “What now? Do we go back to the prison and try to figure out what happened to that dark creature? Because just thinking about that creature roaming free gives me the chills.” Crispin shuddered. “Or we go home and check on Nulthir and mom?”

  That was the question. Thing thought about reaching out to his mate for a progress report. But Amal would demand answers, and he had only questions. Thing ran his hands through his feathered crest. What should they do now other than flee the area before Sarn’s magic found them? It was coming closer, but what did it intend?

  “Dad?” Crispin had noticed the increase in magic too. “Should we let his magic find us?”

  “Is it his magic?” Because Thing wasn’t certain about that. “No, son, we fly.” Thing shoved Crispin off the ledge as green light rolled over the nearest wall, then dove after him. Their wings snapped open simultaneously and caught the updraft.

  Thing only hoped it wasn’t too late. They’d wasted valuable time on this detour. Time the real culprit could have used to cause untold trouble.

  Chapter Six

  “We have to go.” Sarn extended his hand to his still-seated brother.

  “Did you find them?” Miren clasped his hand.

  Sarn pulled him to his feet. “Not yet.” At least he didn't think so, but his magic was scanning the rocks in their vicinity. Hopefully, it was looking for those Owl-Cats. Since all it kept saying was, 'danger,' he wasn't sure what it was doing, or why his magic was pushing against his back.

  Sarn slid toward the wall, dragging his brother with him, until he dug his heels in and pushed back. Stop that. But his magic wasn't listening to him, and he didn't have the energy to fight with it. Hunger cramped his gut.

  “Shade, wake up and tell me what those shards are. My magic says they’re dangerous.” Sarn squinted through his magic at the silhouette of his friend. Either shadows were crawling out of the glass shards on the ground between them, or his eyes were playing tricks on him because real shadows couldn’t do that. His magic was too bright. That left only one possibility.

  Sarn shoved his hand into the shining green wall of magic between him and Shade. His arm shook from the effort, but his magic refused to part, and he wasn't strong enough to force it, not in his weakened condition.

  “What are you doing? Those are bad things.” Miren grabbed his arm and jerked it away from the shield.

  Sarn staggered, magic raced up his legs and kept them from buckling. “I know. I wasn’t going to touch them. I just want to know what they are. Shade? Can you tell me?”

  Shade roused. “They’re dark things. But they’re not for you. Only bright things for you, my Angel.” Shade patted a shadowy lump rising from those mysterious shards.

  “I need to know what they are. You have to tell me.” Sarn tried again to reach his friend, but his magic stopped him. “Do you even know what they are?”

  Shade looked away, and that was answer enough.

  “Then why did you bring them here?” That made no sense at all, or none Sarn could fathom.

  “If your magic thinks it's a bad thing, then we should go.” Miren tugged his arm.

  His brother was right. If they stayed close to the wall, they could just edge past the shadows fountaining out of those shards, if they hurried, and if his magic allowed. Sarn wasn't certain it would since his magic was pushing against his chest and abdomen, forcing him to back away from those shadows.

  “How are they growing?” Miren asked, taking the question right out of Sarn’s mouth.

  “I don’t know. My magic is light. It doesn’t like darkness.” His magic kept trying to obliterate those shadows, but all it was doing was blinding its host.

  Sarn cursed when he stepped on a loose rock and slipped. Stones punched out of the wall and deformed into hands. They grabbed the back of his tunic, and his arm, and yanked Sarn away from the shadowy thing growing at an exponential rate in the center of their safe haven. The wall bowed outward behind Sarn. Oh no, not again.

  “Stop, you’ll destabilize the cave if you tear down that wall.” And only Fate knew what else would be affected. His magic wasn’t listening. It was in ‘protect the bearer’ mode, and there wasn’t a damned thing Sarn could do about that. His magic was in control now.

  The wall shook as his magic slammed into it, so did the ceiling, raining down rocks on them, but they bounced harmlessly off the green shield surrounding Sarn and his brother. Even his magic recognized they were a package deal, but that left Shade in danger.

  “Look! It’s eating your magic.” Miren pointed to the lower half of the shield. Sections of it had darkened to reveal large holes in its protection where the gloom blanketing the floor touched it. That couldn’t be good.

  A dark lump three feet tall rose out of the pile of glass shards. The shadow creature opened a mouth full of transparent teeth and screamed silently as a misshapen face welled up out of the roiling darkness. It extruded a pair of horns and muscular arms and swiped at them, slicing through his shield. Sarn jerked his brother out of the way as his magic wrapped around them in a second blinding green sphere, but its light didn’t extinguish the shadowy creature reaching a clawed hand toward his bare foot. Sarn backed away, but there was nowhere to go. That creature was between them and the exit.

  “We have to get out of her
e. If you stay here, it’ll keep growing. If we go away, it’ll go away, right?” Miren tugged his arm to get Sarn moving.

  “I don’t know.” Sarn bit his lip as a wave of dizziness rolled over him. He swayed, but the stones held him up.

  Shadows crawled over his friend. “Shade?” Sarn extended his hand to his still-seated friend, but his magic wrapped around his wrist in a shining green band and wrenched it away before the shadow creature could take a swipe at his shields again.

  It didn’t have legs yet, so that constrained its mobility for now, but its lower half was shaking. So was the wall. More rocks rained down his shield and bounced off. Several fell right through the shadow creature as if it wasn’t there. Another one struck Shade, and his friend roused again.

  “Get up. I need your help.”

  “You need my help?” Shade’s dark eyes flashed up to meet his through the shield.

  Sarn looked away before their gazes could touch. Strange things happened when he made eye contact with people, so it was better to avoid that, especially now when his magic was out of control. Who knew how it would react. “Yes. I don’t know where to go.”

  One moment Shade was seated and the next, the gray-clad mystery stood beside Sarn, one arm looped around his waist. Since his friend was now part of the solution, his shield expanded to give Shade some protection as the cave’s left-hand wall flew outward in a shower of rocks. A green pulse lit the tunnel beyond as magic spilled out, covering the debris in a shining green bridge.

  “Cool. I didn't know you could do that.” Miren took an experimental step onto it and grinned up at Sarn. “It tickles, but it'll protect us from sharp rocks.”

  “Yeah, it will. I didn’t know I could do that either.” Sarn was glad his magic had since only Shade had shoes.

  “We must go now.” Shade pulled Sarn out onto the bridge. Who knew how long it would last?

  Probably not long given how shaky Sarn felt. He’d have fallen if Shade hadn’t been supporting him.

  “What is that darkness?” Sarn clamped his free arm around his brother’s waist and crushed the urge to push Shade away.

  He needed a friend now, not an enemy, but there was a fine line between the two. He hoped Shade hadn’t crossed that line. This could still all be a terrible misunderstanding, but Sarn had a sick feeling it wasn’t. Behind them, the ceiling cracked and split as his magic pulled it down.

  Shade’s silence wasn’t helping. What did his friend know and why wouldn’t the veiled fool tell him?

  “I won’t let the darkness take you,” Shade said as the magical bridge vanished behind them.

  The power that had fueled it rushed Sarn. He swayed as it struck him in the chest, and everything went dark for a moment then Sarn was blinking and stumbling along with Shade and his brother.

  “Hurry, it’s coming down.” Miren limped beside him.

  “What is?” Sarn winced at the dizziness assaulting him.

  “The tunnel. I think you broke something important.” Miren tightened his arm around his waist. “Can you hold it up?”

  “Maybe.” If he'd eaten something recently, then yes, he could have, but in his current state? Sarn wasn't so sure. He reached for his magic anyway and found it was already seeping out of his bare feet into the ground and rushing up the walls.

  Behind them, chunks of rock the size of his head fell, burying that strange glass. His magic knocked them away from him and Miren and Shade.

  “What about the mountain? Will it collapse too?” Miren shuddered at the thought.

  Sarn was about to shrug when his magic delivered the answer in a burst of information. “No, it’ll hold. My magic says so. It's already stopping the collapse.” But not that shadow creature.

  “What did you bring into our cave?” Sarn pointed at the shadow rising on shaky legs from the debris. It laughed loudly in his mind.

  Miren covered his ears. His frightened eyes latched onto Sarn, begging him to make it stop, but Sarn couldn’t. He didn’t have any mind magic, but he knew two creatures that did.

  “Run.” Shade took off dragging Sarn and his brother as that shadow creature staggered toward them.

  Chapter Seven

  Time dilated as that red droplet fell toward the silver leaves Nulthir crouched on, shielding the quivering Furball with his body.

  “Neep!” Furball pointed at the green shoot pushing up through the leaves.

  The seedling sprouted tiny leaves to capture the blood before it hit the ground. Job done, the shoot sank back into the earth and vanished from sight.

  “What the hell was that?” Nulthir touched his earlobe, but the cut was already healing, not by his doing though. He kept the now squirming Furball tucked in tight against his chest where it was marginally safer.

  If the surrounding trees were healing him, the spirits inhabiting them gave no sign. But they did lower their branches to a less aggressive angle. They could still attack at any time, but Nulthir would have some warning if they did.

  “Why do you bear the evil one’s mark?” asked another elven ghost. She folded her arms over her armored breast, and her tree crossed two of its branches, mirroring her stance.

  “What? Where do I bear such a hateful thing?” Nulthir unbuttoned his tunic, but there was no devil’s mark on his chest, stomach, or forearms when he rolled up his sleeves.

  But it might be on his back. That would explain why he hadn’t known he possessed such a vile mark, and why he’d almost drawn the devil’s downward-pointing star earlier. Nulthir shuddered at the thought.

  Now that the inspection was over, Furball hopped from his knee into his arms again. “Neep?”

  Nulthir patted the little guy’s back to quiet him. Who knew what would set these trees off?

  “Why are you pretending you didn’t know you bore such a mark?” Another tree shoved a branch in between its comrades and parted their trunks so it could slither between them and loom over Nulthir. Its elven occupant leveled a branch at his head, like a spear. Its razor point stopped just shy of his forehead and hovered there as Nulthir backed away.

  “Because I didn’t know. I have no idea what’s on some parts of my skin. I only just found out my mother wrote her plans for world domination on me.” And Nulthir still didn’t know the full extent of them. How the hell could he find out without triggering them?

  That gave the trees pause, but only for a moment. Another branch poked Nulthir in the small of his back, not hard enough to skewer him, thank Fate. He’d need a new uniform after this abuse.

  “How do we know what you say is true?” another elven spirit asked, but she didn’t make herself known.

  That was a great question. Who would they believe? Thing’s owlish face and intense yellow eyes popped into his mind. Of course, his friends. They were more animal than human, and animals didn’t lie, not even sentient ones with a penchant for mind-reading. The forest must believe them.

  “Ask my friends. They’ll confirm what I say is true.” Nulthir took a step to the right, so that branch wasn’t stabbing him in the back anymore. It hadn’t broken through his uniform yet, but a little more force would shove it right through the wool.

  “What friends? Whom should we call to speak for you?” asked another tree—elven spirit—this time from outside the ones encircling him.

  Well, maybe not Thing. His orneriness might incite the trees to murder. Amal was she was calm and reasonable. If anyone could talk these trees down, it was her. “Her name is Amal. She’s an owl-cat, and his grandmother. She knows me well.” Nulthir held Furball up, and the kit, who’d been listening to every word, drew himself up to his full six-inch height and chittered something at them.

  “Thank you, but you’d better let me do the talking. I don’t think they speak ‘Owl-Cat’.” Nulthir stroked Furball’s back, turning the kit into a puddle of purring fur on the palm of his hand as he sent out a thought that was part prayer to Furball’s grandmother. I hope you’re alright, Amal. I hope your family is too.

 
Nulthir’s memories were a little hazy after he’d encountered that cold magic in the prison. I hope I didn’t harm anyone while I was possessed. If he had, Nulthir would never forgive himself. He should have found a way to break through its control sooner. But what was done couldn’t be undone. All he could do was pick up the pieces and carry on. When this was over, he would find some way to prevent another demon from possessing him again.

  “You care for this creature called Amal,” said the first elf in a slightly less murderous tone. She flicked one of her smallest branches at him, but it fell short. Probably not on purpose.

  “Yes, her family is my family.” Nulthir touched the dawn rune hanging around his neck, and its cool curves calmed the fear stabbing him in the chest. Please let her family be alright, Nulthir prayed to whoever was listening.

  Furball raised a tiny black hand. “Neep, neep!”

  “Hush now, let me handle this, okay?” Under the protective hand Nulthir had placed over Furball, the kit nodded his head.

  “Then we shall ask her, and her answer had better match yours.” The elven warrior lashed out with another branch, hitting Nulthir squarely in the gut before he could dodge, knocking the breath from him. Thank Fate, that branch was dull.

  Nulthir doubled over as white light knifed between two of the enchanted trees, parting them. He sank down on one knee as warmth suffused the ache in his gut, easing it. Nulthir raised the hand that wasn't holding Furball to shield his eyes. That glorious light was everywhere, purifying everything it touched.

  Nulthir bowed his head. Purify me. Rid me of these accursed marks. He didn’t dare ask that aloud, not of her. Only one entity glowed like that—the Queen of All Trees, Shayari’s once and future Queen. He wasn’t worthy enough to stand in her presence.