Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4)

by Melinda Kucsera

  Amal could have hugged him for his bravery after she smacked him upside the head for putting himself in danger like that. But she made no move to do either. Everyone froze as demonic laughter filled their minds. But Nulthir wasn't laughing. There was some sense in his black-on-black eyes. Maybe Furball had gotten through to him.

  Help us fight the demon, Amal sent to him. You know a hell of a lot of spells. There must be one that will drive that creature out.

  Nulthir looked at the window behind Amal where the sunlight streamed in clean and bright. The demon was still laughing in their minds, unaware of what was passing between them or that it had lost control over Nulthir’s body.

  “No, not the window! Don’t!” Amal whirled, but she was too late. Nulthir stepped right over her. She wrapped her arms around his leg to stop him. Thing would never forgive her if she let him die, and he would die if he went out that window. It was a thousand-foot drop onto sharp rocks.

  “Neep!” Furball shouted then he vanished in a flash of light.

  Nulthir didn't stop when the sunlight shafted down on him, causing the dark magic to burn. He barreled toward the window as the demon screamed in all their minds. Amal covered her ears, but that horrible sound almost deafened her.

  Where are you, Thing? This is a horrible time for you to pursue your own mission. Amal had a feeling that’s what her mate was doing.

  “Stop! Find another way.” Dale rushed in front of Nulthir, his hands raised, and wings spread. Nulthir stepped over him. He was just a few feet from the slit window now.

  Three things happened at once. A tongue of light leaped up from the windowsill, and Furball appeared. His tiny black hands held out in a stop. Runes ignited around the window as the spell Nulthir had put there activated, and their dearest friend charged right into it. Light exploded, knocking Amal senseless as the world went white.

  Chapter Twelve

  Iraine’s world narrowed to the silver leaf glowing on her palm. Essie’s voice was a soft whisper in her ear, but her words flew right passed Iraine. Only that leaf was important. White light spilled out of it, garbing Iraine in pure light. Then she was walking. Where, she didn’t know or care.

  Iraine only had eyes for that leaf cupped in her hands. Light flowed through its veins, sketching the proud trunk and regal crown of the Queen of All Trees, protector of Shayari’s hundred valleys and enchanted forestry. Her luminous branches beckoned to Iraine.

  “What would you wish of me, Lady of the Woods?” Iraine steadied her trembling hands.

  But it was Essie’s voice whispering in her ear, not the Queen of All Trees’, “The Lady bids you to deliver this.”

  “To whom?” Iraine turned a bend blindly, following no course she’d set.

  On her palm, the leaf multiplied. Where there was one, now there were two, and they both shone whitely against her brown hands. Iraine didn't see the tunnels she trod or their residents. There was only the expanding silver glow from two leaves. As that light encompassed her, she divided.

  Part of Iraine strode through the corridors of Mount Eredren, heading toward whomever the Queen of All Trees wanted her to deliver this treasure to. Meanwhile, another part of her stepped through the light she carried into a glade where an incalculably tall tree with silver bark stood.

  Light chased itself up her bark to the lowest level of branches, extending out from her majestic trunk like a skirt. The Queen of All Trees' star-shaped leaves glowed a soft silver that filled the eyes with wonder and suffused the heart with love. She was so tall, looking up at her distant crown gave Iraine a crick in her neck, but she couldn’t look away, not from Shayari’s fabled Queen. Only those she favored ever saw her, the most enchanted of all trees.

  So why am I seeing her? Iraine couldn’t help but wonder. Distantly, she was aware of her body. It was climbing a set of winding stairs and still doggedly pursuing the Queen’s command. What had that been? Whatever it was, it wasn't important. Not now, when she was standing before her Queen in spirit if not in reality.

  Curtseying was out because she was wearing trousers. Still, she should make some sort of obeisance. Iraine wracked her brain for the correct forms and found nothing there. She wasn't a noblewoman and didn’t have the foggiest clue how to pay her respects. Then again, maybe she didn’t have to. After all, she was the one summoned.

  “My Queen, what do you wish of me?” Iraine settled for bowing her head. She didn't bend her knees to anyone except her God, and this ancient tree brimming with magic wasn’t Him.

  “Be my eyes, so I might see under the mountain where you dwell. Be my ears, so I might hear what the denizens of your mountain home whisper in the dark. Be my hands, help those in need. Be my mouth, speak the good news you hold in your heart.” A glowing branch tapped Iraine’s chest then the Queen of All Trees continued in a clear voice, even though she had no mouth or eyes or ears.

  No trees did. But the Queen of All Trees had powerful magic, and through it, she could see, hear and know all she needed to except when it came to the doings under the mountain it seemed. “Be my shield, protect the citizens under the mountain as you’ve sworn to do. Be my sword, cut down evil wherever you find it. But above all, believe. Do these things for me and together, we’ll hold the darkness at bay a little longer.”

  Each request hit Iraine like a sack of bricks. Her shock was so great, by the last one, she’d dropped to her knees in the silver leaves reflecting the Queen of All Trees’ glory. But she was more than a tree. The spirit of a battle-tested Queen resided in that silver-chased bark.

  “Will you do this for me?”

  Iraine couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded. Nothing the Queen of All Trees had asked of her conflicted with her religion, and her heart ached to do all of this. This compact was what she’d craved.

  But a nod wasn’t enough. The Queen of All Trees waited for a response, so Iraine gave her one. She raised her eyes to once again regard the Queen of All Trees' brilliant crown. It was a corona of white fire brighter than the sun.

  “I will do all you ask of me,” Iraine said. She felt her body stop suddenly and knock on something—a door maybe? That fleeting vision disappeared, and Iraine was fully present in this place outside of time again.

  “Then rise, my Handmaiden. Go and serve with love.”

  The glade vanished, leaving Iraine blinking stupidly at a solid wood door. What the hell? Inside, something terrible was happening. Iraine felt its suffocating evil as she raised her foot and applied her steel-toed boot to the door. It shuddered but remained closed. “By all that’s holy, let me in, or I’ll break down the door.”

  A sigil shined on the wall much dimmer than the two leaves glowing on her palm. Well, they were both magic. Maybe this was what the Queen of All Trees wanted. Iraine shoved both leaves at the rune. “Open up.” The door swung in on a scene of chaos.

  Across the room, light exploded from a window, hurling a man at her. He slammed into Iraine before she could dodge, knocking her down. Nulthir turned feral black eyes on her, revealing the nightmare inside him. But she knew now why the Queen of All Trees had sent her here.

  “By order of the Queen of Light, I command you to leave.” Iraine shoved the Queen’s gift at him.

  The instant that silver-glowing leaf touched his chest, darkness boiled out of him and threatened to sweep her away, but she held firm against its onslaught. No darkness would ever take her, not while she held the truth and the way in her heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nulthir was so damned cold. He lay broken and bleeding on a stone slab. Sigils flashed in his mind’s eye and inverted, changing their intent. The float spell became a lift-and-smash spell. The dawn rune twisted into a spell that spread darkness and absorbed light. His hands shook with the need to restore those spells to their original purpose, jangling the manacles binding them. “Stop. I’m not a destroyer.”

  “Then what are you?” that still, small voice from before asked. No cross accompanied it this time. Maybe it couldn't appe
ar in such a dark place.

  What are you? That same question had been asked on his twenty-first birthday when all his troubles had begun with his family. Then, he hadn’t had an answer. But Nulthir had one now thanks to the Guards. “A peacekeeper.” That title felt righter than anything else had since he’d left home.

  “Sometimes peace must be won.” That presence faded out, but it was right.

  Nulthir needed to find some way to fight back. But how? The demon had control of what little magic he had. If the runes flashing through his mind were any indication, it was learning what he knew.

  Around Nulthir, teeth gnashed, and darkness oppressed him. Pain throbbed in his shoulders, making it hard to think. Chains bound him spread-eagled to what must be an altar. Probably the same one he’d been chained to by his family many months ago. But he hadn’t been alone then.

  Thing had been there, and Amal and their kits too. They’d picked the locks with their claws. They were still out there fighting for him. If only he could find a way to help them.

  “This isn’t real,” a familiar voice said. A green light kindled in the darkness, revealing a skinny boy of perhaps thirteen tied up by thick ropes. His eyes glowed a vibrant green when he opened them.

  What was that kid’s name? Nulthir searched his memory. “Sarn? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m not really here.” The hooded kid hugged his knees and rocked to and fro like a frightened child.

  “But you were there. They kidnapped you in the hopes of using your magic to open a portal to hell.”

  Sarn shook his head as he rocked. He stared vacantly at a rock spinning on the ground in front of him. “I’m not here. This is your mind, not mine. I’m just a memory. I have no power here.”

  “Then you can’t lend me the power to take back control of my body.” Nulthir closed his eyes. He was tired and confused, and he really hated all this mental stuff. Memories belonged in drawers you could slam closed and forget about. This was Thing’s forte, not his. Where are you, old friend? You’d be in your element here.

  “But you know lots of spells. I’ll bet you know one that would help.” Hope flowered in Sarn’s too bright eyes.

  In fact, Nulthir did know one that might help. “I don’t have anything to power it. The demon changed what power I have to its opposite. I can’t work with darkness. Like you, I can only work with light.”

  “Then take back your light.” A spark danced in the hollow Sarn’s cupped hands made. It wasn’t green like the kid’s power. It was pure white light, and it fluttered like a butterfly. There was only one explanation for it.

  “You have two gifts.” Nulthir stared at Sarn in shock.

  The kid shrugged. “Maybe.” Sarn trapped the white spark, caging it with his long fingers. “When I gave you my power to fight the demon off the first time, I was so scared. I didn't know what I was doing. Maybe I accidentally pulled both. Maybe I gave you both types of magic I can work. If you only used one, then the other one might still be inside you.” Sarn opened his hands, and the spark flew out. The ropes fell off the kid as he gained his feet, his green hood falling to shadow his eerie green eyes.

  “What does that other power do?” Nulthir asked.

  Sarn had disappeared, but the still, small had voice returned, and the spark changed into a small glowing cross, like the ones Iraine wore. Maybe he should ask her about them if he survived this.

  “Maybe that demon is a curse, and that boy, a curse breaker.” The cross floated into Nulthir’s hand, and a bright spark broke the chains binding his wrists and ankles.

  “Neep!”

  Oh fate no... What trouble had that kit gotten into now? “Furball!” Nulthir clawed through the darkness until he could look out of his own eyes. And there was Furball, falling, as usual, his owlish eyes wide in terror. Nulthir reached for him, but his hands were stuck fast in the top of the dresser. No. He must save that adorable little troublemaker.

  Pain erupted in his hands as he pulled. The demon’s claws vanished in a puff of smoke, revealing his bleeding hands just in the nick of time. Furball landed on his palm and looked up at him with perfect love and trust.

  You stupid kit, you could have gotten hurt, Nulthir tried to say, but his mouth was under the demon’s control, and it was laughing. He tried to seize back control, and the demon laughed in his mind.

  Silly little warlock. You’ve got me under your skin. You’ll never get me out. The demon stretched his mouth into a wicked grin.

  You’re wrong. Where there’s magic, there’s a way. Nulthir felt his gaze drawn to the light shining in through the window across the room, and beyond it to the silver tree standing at the edge of the forest. She was a thousand feet tall according to legend, and at least twice the height of her enchanted brethren standing at attention beside her. The Queen of All Trees raised one glowing branch and crooked it at him in a come-hither gesture.

  Nulthir ran toward the window and the promise of help from a higher power. Furball screamed, and his scant weight vanished from Nulthir’s palm as he stepped over first Amal then Dale. Someone latched onto his ankle, but he kept hurtling toward that light. Runes lit up all along the window. They maintained a barrier spell he’d put there to protect the members of Thing’s family who hadn’t fledged yet.

  Nulthir struck that spell hard, and light crashed down on him. The demon screamed as that spell light burned it. Behind him, someone pounded on the door, and it splintered. Everything went white, and Nulthir fell into that light, needing it after so much darkness.

  To be continued in “Spell of Scales & Steel,” part of Forgotten Magic, the third installment of the Magic Underground trilogy of anthologies.

  Amal and her family may have saved Nulthir from a demon only to land him in trouble with the Queen of All Trees, and she doesn’t take kindly to warlocks with demonic summoning spells written on their skin. Meanwhile, Thing and Crispin are in serious trouble when they uncover a dastardly plot with teeth and claws and a taste for Owl-Cats.

  About the Author

  Melinda Kucsera writes fantastic short stories and books when dragons aren't trying to kidnap her. (Sometimes, her characters rescue her, especially when evil corporations are involved.) Check out all Melinda’s books on melindakucsera.com and meet her characters. They're lining up to meet you.

  Melinda leaves the running of her newsletter to a cast of lovable characters who hog her inbox. They might also star in several of her books. Enough about her, it’s them you’re really interested in, her cast of characters. Join them every week for a new adventure: at mkucsera.com/welcomecharacters. They make house calls.

  For more information about Melinda Kucsera and the characters in her story, please visit: http://melindakucsera.com/hanging-out-with-friends/ Don’t forget to grab your copy of Forgotten Magic to find out what happens next.

  When Day Fades into Night

  Anela Deen

  For me, the best part of writing about magic is coming up with all the ways it can go haywire. Sure, it can get characters out of an impossible situation, but it’s more fun to see how magic can push them into trouble. Magic is a powerful element, and like anything in nature, it can react in unexpected and dangerous ways. Life operates the same way on many levels, and this is a theme I explored in Wayward Magic. What we choose and how we react to our pain and our sorrow dictates the road that winds ahead. Sometimes we see where it leads. Sometimes we don’t.

  Anela Deen

  After discovering fairies were behind the ambush that nearly killed him, Simith is determined to negotiate a truce with the troll king. But a strange illness afflicts him upon his return to his world. When the Thistle Court captures him, he learns the troll king has accused him of oathbreaking and chosen a fight to the death to settle his guilt. As the fairies conspire to lure the trolls into a trap, Simith is helpless to stop them. Held captive by his true name, they’ll force him not only to fight in the arena, but to die there as well.

  When Jessa collapses after Simith�
��s departure, she realizes that the magic he used to save her life had the wayward effect of fusing their life forces. If they aren’t reunited to untangle them in time, both will die. With Relle and Katie beside her, she’ll travel into the magical realm to find him. But in a world torn apart by war, with signs of imminent battle on the horizon, locating Simith is the easy part. Rescuing him from his enemies is quite another.

  Chapter One

  He couldn’t get warm.

  Pausing on a low branch at the edge of the Jaded Grove, Simith chafed his arms, half expecting to see his breath on the air. It was high summer here, just like the world he’d left mere hours ago. The trees sighed with a temperate breeze; the air humid, heavy with the scent of cedar and leaf mold. Below, a doe wandered leisurely through the grass to nibble at a cluster of berries. Simith shivered and blew on his icy hands.

  This was ridiculous. He gazed back the way he’d come, thinking of the hazel thicket he’d seen. Perhaps he should’ve stopped for that nap his body longed for instead of pushing on. He’d drawn magic into his conduit as soon as he’d arrived and healed what remained of his injuries. That didn’t solve fatigue, however. It took an effort just to keep his eyes open, but he’d feared any delay. He had a small window of time before the fairies would know he’d defeated Firo.

  Simith watched the doe where she nosed at a cluster of flowers. He pressed his temple to the trunk he leaned against, his head heavy. Perhaps travelling between worlds brought on this unreasonable exhaustion. Or maybe, he chided himself, he’d simply had a night filled with dangers and no rest. A nap to clear his head would be advisable before he risked communicating with the trolls again. What conclusions had they drawn when he didn’t show up to the meeting? Could King Drokeh even be convinced to agree to another?