Forgotten Magic (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 3)

by Melinda Kucsera

  Maia approached Hermit and received the staff from him, letting him remove the cloak draped around her shoulders before turning and facing the congregation. Her sleeveless white dress revealed her bare shoulders, each of which bore a tattoo. When a shaman passed the test for priestess, she received a mark on her shoulder that had a special significance and was, itself, a sign that she had been tested and prevailed. Maia had two marks instead of one, because she had to also endure a trial to become High Priestess.

  No one knew why the priestly class of shamans received these marks on their shoulders, but they accepted it as a sign of confirmation from the Guardian Nasai. The mark on Maia’s right shoulder was a spiral enveloped in half-darkness and half-light. She received it as a priestess, and it represented the light of virtue penetrating the darkness. It was also strangely reminiscent of the spirit world itself, divided into the heavenly spheres and the underworld below. On her left shoulder was the mark she received as High Priestess. It was an animal image—a turtle, symbolizing long life.

  Finally, Corabelle entered, wearing a dress like Maia’s. She was not adorned with ornate robes or jewels, and her long black hair was in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She made her way up the few steps that led to the altar and halted before Maia. The High Priestess struck the floor with the staff, and the sound emanating from the floor sounded more like a crack of thunder than a thud. The assembly took their seats, including Einar and Ladovin, and Corabelle stood alone before Maia.

  “Declare to this assembly, why you have come today, shaman.”

  “I have come to be proven worthy, to bear the mark of prophetess and priestess.”

  Maia struck the floor again with the staff. The thunder-like sound echoed throughout the sanctuary. “Do you vow to partake of this test, Corabelle Lansing? To see it through to the end?”

  Though her stomach clenched and her heart pounded wildly in her chest, she answered in a steady voice, “Before all who are present today, and you High Priestess, and before the Seat of Nasai, I promise to enter into the test, and to complete it to the best of my ability.”

  Could she even pass this test? Did she deserve to, after fooling around with forbidden magic and falling under the spell of the god, Dehawk?

  Maia presented the staff to Corabelle and walked around the altar and onto the platform that held her seat. She sat down, still visible to all present, and the Seat of Nasai stood on its marble pillar towering over her.

  “That which you hold is the Staff of Shakynah, the first shaman priestess and High Priestess. Strike the floor with it once, and it will go into the spirit world.”

  Corabelle did as told and imitated what Maia had done earlier with the staff. As soon as the Staff of Shakynah touched the floor, it disappeared in a silver mist, whisked away into the spirit world. It had been explained to her that morning that she would have to go into the spirit world, retrieve Shakynah from the spirit that would be guarding it, and use it to perform a healing or exorcism.

  “You know the task you must complete,” Maia said in a loud voice, “and remember this, Corabelle: It may seem like a simple task to wield Shakynah, but it can prove a daunting feat. If you are unworthy, too weak, or unlearned, the Staff will not obey you. If you can wield it, you will have the very heavens at your fingertips. More importantly, you can subjugate any evil spirit in the name of Nasai and make the Dread Gate itself sway and bow. But only if you are worthy.”

  Corabelle bowed toward Maia. In this moment, her mentor seemed confident and strong. But she knew the truth. Dark visions and visitations of the man Maia once loved had tormented the High Priestess to the point of near insanity. If Corabelle could pass her test and become a full-fledged priestess, perhaps she could help Maia. In fact, she had a strong suspicion as to who—or what—tormented her mentor. And it wasn’t the long-dead Ronan Silvanus.

  Corabelle sighed and glanced at the Seat of Nasai, the patron goddess of shamans. She took her place in a high-backed chair beside the altar and closed her eyes. With one last nervous intake of breath, she entered a vision state and crossed the threshold into the spirit world.

  She started off near the Temple and glided a few feet westward and stopped at a spring. She knelt and cupped her hands, dipping them into the water and drinking. She playfully splashed her hands in the refreshing liquid then settled on the ground and waited.

  Only a few moments passed before the wind seemed to stir and she saw a blackbird flying overhead. It circled her a few times then dove in for a landing. The blackbird shapeshifted into a tall pale man swathed in black. His sword hung at his side and his glinting red eyes gazed in Corabelle’s direction.

  “Truthsayer, what are you doing here?” she asked.

  The demon approached her and sat across from her. “I thought we were past that, Corabelle. You know all I do is aimlessly roam the spirit world, and I find you to be the only compelling thing in it.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes, and besides, you’re the one who conjured and freed me, so I owe all this wonderful autonomy to you.” He smiled at her.

  “Caim, you ought to be careful about following shamans around.”

  “What can you do?” He sneered. “You’re not yet powerful enough to even entrap me and send me back to the underworld. When you can do that, Lady Shaman, then I will take your threats seriously.”

  Corabelle leaned toward him, her face almost touching his. “I think…you should take me very seriously, demon.”

  He glared at her with his infernal red eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  Corabelle placed her hands on the ground in front of her and spoke a word of incantation. Before Caim could make a move, he was immediately stunned and electrocuted by a magical net that had appeared directly beneath him. Corabelle quickly draped the other half of the net over him and sealed it so that he was trapped inside.

  “You were around here the whole time because you were the one haunting Maia!” She delivered a kick to his side, and by the Guardians, he could actually feel it. He gritted his teeth and writhed in pain within the magic net.

  Panting for breath, he tried to dissuade her. “Corabelle, I—”

  “How could I have overlooked you? You’re a shapeshifter, and you can look like anyone. And you shameless monster, you appeared to Maia and pretended to be Ronan!” She conjured a fiery whip and struck him with it. This time, he howled in pain.

  “It’s true! I’ve been tormenting Maia because she’s the only one powerful enough to bind me and send me back to the underworld.”

  “And you decided that if she was occupied with questioning her own sanity, that you would be the last thing on her mind.”

  “Yes, but I also come to talk to you.”

  “But I don’t want you anywhere near me. I don’t care if I freed you, it was an accident…a mistake.” She gave the net a tug and dragged him along.

  “Wh-where are you taking me?”

  “I’m going to punish you…you’ll be destroyed.” Then I’m going to find that Staff and become a priestess.

  “Corabelle, please…shamans usually just expel powerful demons like me to the underworld. They don’t capture and torture us. That’s considered unethical.”

  She gave a cold laugh. A demon trying to lecture her on what’s ethical.

  Caim tried to resist being towed along within the net, but his efforts were futile. “Wait...you’re weaker than me. You couldn’t have made this net yourself. Who helped you, Corabelle?”

  “I did,” answered the enthralling voice of Dehawk. The god glided toward Corabelle and stood next to her, his dark gaze directed toward Caim.

  “My Lord, why do you wish to destroy me?”

  “Because Corabelle asked for it,” the handsome Guardian said in a smooth voice.

  “Listen to me Corabelle,” Caim said with a frantic look in his eyes. “He can’t be trusted! He’s a deceiver and will devour you whole.”

  “Do you think you’re any better?” She threatened him with ano
ther flogging by the fiery whip.

  “At least I never lied to you.”

  She faltered and stopped to think. Dehawk turned her chin and directed her gaze toward his perfect face. “He has admitted from his own mouth that this was all his doing. I am giving you the opportunity, as a shaman, to punish him.”

  “He’s right, Caim,” Corabelle said, facing the ensnared demon. “You deserve this, and you have no one to blame but yourself.”

  Caim saw that he was losing the argument. “Don’t rush to judgment! Consider if he is helping you for his own purposes. Remember how he threw you into the abyss?”

  She never said she trusted Dehawk. But at least he was willing to help her trap and punish Caim. “This is between you and me, demon. I freed you, so now I’m destroying you.”

  “You’re only agreeing with him because he’s tainted you, Corabelle. Don’t think I never noticed the scent of his kiss on you.”

  She dropped her end of the net and instinctively raised her free hand to her lips. So, it wasn’t the magic she had learned from Dehawk. It was the kiss he gave her. She lost the breath to speak and felt as if time had stopped, not even noticing the fiery whip slipping from her hand and falling to the ground.

  She faced Dehawk. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “Because I knew it would help you return to me,” he said.

  “I don’t belong to you.”

  “Exactly, Corabelle!” Caim interjected. “Reject the fallen god.”

  “Why can’t you, Corabelle?” Dehawk grabbed her hand and held it as if in supplication.

  “I don’t want to be lost…I’d be lost in the underworld.” She desperately wanted to pull her hand from his grasp, but she enjoyed his touch too much.

  The demon started thrashing about in the net, desperately trying to escape. He knew that if Corabelle took him all the way southward toward Temple Dehawk, that she would destroy him there.

  “It seems you have a rather energetic demon to get rid of,” Dehawk said.

  “I will take care of him,” she said in a shaky voice. “Now leave me.”

  “Fool girl! He’s ensnared you and you don’t even realize it.” Caim snarled.

  Dehawk extended his great white wings and took to the air. Corabelle watched him fly away with an ache of longing in her heart. Damn the fallen god for being so enticing.

  She took up the net again and continued gliding toward Temple Dehawk. The ocean swayed beneath her, covering the black vortices beneath it. Every so often a vortex would break through and howl with fury, a swirling wind of cloud and stench seeking anything to pull down into its depths. Corabelle avoided these, keeping steady on her route, the whole time thinking of Caim’s revelation.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me what you knew about the kiss?” she asked.

  “I had no reason to.”

  “You did what you thought would earn Dehawk’s praise? You used to be the Gatekeeper of the Dread Gate. Did you ever try to reclaim that post?”

  Caim changed the subject. “Will you really take me down to Temple Dehawk to torture and destroy me? Not even the gods have cast this judgment on me, but you presume to act for them in your judgment.”

  She made it to Boathe but landed on the dark terrain and went no further. Despite all the anger she felt toward Caim, he had said something important, and he reminded her of something she had forgotten. Didn’t she sit in Temple Nasai praying to never become like Mheric Makasha, the proud High Priest who ended up blaspheming the gods? Even more frightening was the thought of becoming like Dehawk who also fell through pride.

  But didn’t Caim need to be captured? Her spirit guide, Eamon, had told her he was a dangerous demon. He also needed to be held accountable for trying to drive Maia insane, so what was Corabelle to do? She wasn’t going to free him, but then if she took him down to Temple Dehawk and did what she had planned to, she would be no better than the demon or Dehawk himself. She wasn’t yet powerful enough to simply exorcise Caim, but perhaps she needed to rely on something other than her own strength.

  Kneeling on the ground, Corabelle closed her eyes and began to pray. The magic of the net that entrapped Caim prevented him from reading her mind, and so he began calling out to her and asking questions, trying to gauge what her intentions were.

  He held his breath when Corabelle opened her eyes. She peered down at him with an emotionless expression. “I will do nothing to you, Caim.”

  He smiled, red eyes gleaming with triumph and relief. “Then free me, and let me be on my way, Lady Shaman.”

  “No, someone worthy is coming to take you.”

  The god Kinlithe sped toward them from the West with his flaming sword in hand. The golden-haired Guardian of Justice, a stark contrast to the dark and sinister Dehawk, glowed with a brilliant light and radiated every bit of authority and majesty the ancient icons in the temples portrayed.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” Corabelle explained as he approached, “so I called out to you.”

  She almost gasped when Kinlithe’s eyes met hers. She could tell that he sensed the taint in her by the way he looked at her, but instead of disgust or shock, his eyes glittered with the purity of compassion. She bowed even lower, unable to meet his gaze any longer, feeling the magnitude of her flaws in his hallowed presence.

  “And you were right to implore me, Corabelle.” Kinlithe took hold of the net, neither threatening nor striking Caim with his fiery sword.

  The demon moved violently, fighting just as hard as he had when he thought Corabelle was won over by Dehawk. Kinlithe ignored Caim and lifted his enchanted sword in the air. The fire leaped from the blade and swirled in an arc, landing into the ocean, forming a vortex that rose into the air. The Guardian, having made his own passageway into the underworld, hauled Caim, flew into the fiery vortex, and disappeared into the water beneath.

  Corabelle rose to her feet, both grateful for Kinlithe’s aid and ashamed that she now knew he clearly saw what she had been hiding from her closest friends. Was she even worthy to pursue the Staff of Shakynah? What would Maia and the others say if she returned to the physical world unsuccessful? Would there be a penalty for breaking the vow to complete the test to the best of her ability?

  The only thing that made her glide in the direction the Staff pulled her in was the thought of Kinlithe’s intensely pure gaze. If he could see her for what she was and still regard her compassionately, then she would extend the same courtesy to herself and do what she needed to become a priestess. There was no time to indulge in self-pity.

  She quickened her pace toward Félen and relief washed over her when she crossed its borders, leaving the dark, contaminated realm of Boathe. As the fresh scent of flowers and the colorful sight of the land’s grassy knolls caught her attention, she still sensed the call of the Staff. She flew in its direction, a growing sense of urgency rising in her, and she finally halted when she spotted the Staff—and the spirit guarding it.

  The spirit looked like a woman, except her skin was an abnormal ivory color, and her large dark eyes shimmered like the dancing lights of the celestial realm. She wore a gold dress, and her sky-blue hair fell in a single long braid. The spirit sat on the ground, legs folded, and the Staff lay across her lap.

  For a moment, Corabelle was thrown off balance. Was she supposed to challenge the spirit? Or fight her? The woman looked like no demon she’d ever seen, and Corabelle was certain she was a celestial spirit. She glided closer toward the spirit and abruptly stopped again when the woman spoke to her.

  “I am Evania, a spirit of the high heavens. I guard the Staff of Shakynah—come and sit with me.”

  It took Corabelle a few moments to comply with Evania’s request. The spirit’s speech was like a heavenly song, and it so affected Corabelle that she thought she could stay there and do nothing else but listen to her voice. Corabelle did as told, however, and sat opposite the spirit, eyeing the Staff the entire time.

  “Evania,” she asked, “what must I do to obtain the staff
?”

  Those large shimmering eyes regarded her coolly. “Whatever you deem necessary.”

  “But…I don’t want to fight you,” Corabelle confessed in an anxious tone.

  “Is fighting the only way you can get the Staff from me?”

  Corabelle thought for a moment and slowly reached for the Staff. She quickly withdrew her hands when Evania grabbed hold of the Staff protectively.

  “I’m afraid it won’t be that easy.” The spirit laughed, eyeing Corabelle with a mirthful gaze.

  Corabelle’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment. “I don’t know what to do. What are the ways I can get the Staff?”

  Her ivory face now wore a serious expression. “Some shamans have chosen to challenge me in honorable battle over the Staff, while others have tried to take it through stealth and force. Then there were those who chose to remember why they were seeking the Staff to begin with, and they were willing to be given the Staff once they’ve learned from me.”

  “Then I want to learn, Evania.”

  The spirit nodded in agreement to Corabelle’s request. Her gaze intensified. “Why do you indulge in a tainted affection for the Guardian who will destroy your soul?”

  Corabelle’s stomach clenched, and she suddenly felt as if she were a criminal on trial. “I don’t…love him. He lied to me and tainted me with his kiss.”

  “You are right in that you do not love him, which is why I said it was a tainted affection. Your desires are a perverted and twisted version of what real love should be.”

  Corabelle stiffened. “That’s why I’m here! Once I become a priestess, I will be healed of this taint.”

  “Why are you so certain being anointed priestess will purify the taint?”

  Blustering, Corabelle shot back, “What kind of a lesson is this anyway?”

  “One of the most important of all—to know yourself.”

  “I know who I am.” She unconsciously balled her fists.

  “You walk the line between light and darkness, shaman. You have a kind heart, a noble spirit, and would sacrifice everything for your friends. On the other hand, you toy with danger, thinking you can tame a ravenous beast, all the while oblivious to the fact he already has you in his clutches.”