Heat Stroke (Hedge Mage and Medicine Book 3)

by SA Magnusson

  Pushing outward with a hint of a trigger, I swept it around the room. As I did, I felt no resistance. Either they were somehow masking themselves from me—something I found increasingly likely, especially as I had begun to understand how well they were able to hide from me—or they had already been incapacitated. I thought the latter less likely, and remained in place, holding several of the coins, debating what to do. I still didn’t know where to go from here. The hallway leading back toward Matt’s torture chamber was guarded by spells, and I worried about triggering them. If I did, then I wouldn’t make it out of here.

  Could I somehow coax them to head down that way? What if I sent a spell along the corridor, making it seem as if I had gone down there? I rolled one coin down a long hallway. As it went, I sent a trickle of power into it. I wasn’t sure what spell I had found, but was appreciative of the fact that it appeared to be a small surge of lights that crackled, something like a firework going off.

  When this was over—and assuming I survived it—I would need to take some time to better understand the various spells I had access to. It would be a whole lot easier for me if I knew what things I could release.

  After the spell eased off, I waited, listening for sounds of anyone who might have pursued that spell down the hallway. If they did, I then had to wait for whatever defenses Matt would use upon it.

  There came nothing. So much for that idea. The only other choice I had was to continue to send coins out around me. I had plenty. Even with all the coins I had, it might not be enough if it came down to having to deal with John Adams and whoever else he sent after me.

  There wasn’t anything else I could try without blowing through my power. Seeing as how Barden was gone, I would have to do this myself.

  I pushed that thought away. I couldn’t think like that. Barden couldn’t be gone.

  Taking a deep breath, I held a fistful of coins. I had no idea which spells I had and didn’t think it mattered at this point. All that mattered was feeling the resistance against them. That was the key.

  Holding back three, I sent a half-dozen coins rolling out across the floor. As they went, I triggered them, and when I felt a resistance, I flicked another coin in that direction, triggering it as it struck. The first one hit, and there came a grunt, and a gasp. Maybe a Paralytic. That was the kind of reaction those generated.

  There came another sense of resistance, and I sent another coin, this one striking quickly. I could feel building energy and whoever was holding onto it, trying to push against what I was doing. Rather than pushing more force through it, I tried another approach. I sent another coin and surged another trickle of a trigger through it.

  This one worked. It exploded, and there came a brief flash of light. The man I had struck went flying backward. In that brief surge of light, he wasn’t the only one who became visible. There was another, and this one was near enough I could practically touch him.

  Tossing two coins, I triggered them one after another. They struck, sending the attacker backward. He managed to deflect the first one and diminished the second. I hurriedly reached for another coin, and tossed that at him, using a third coin. The third spell tossed him back, an explosion of power that rocketed him away, and it was enough force to make him fall.

  Hurrying toward the nearest of the attackers, I reached for his pouch, the same way I had the others. I stuffed his coins into my pocket, moving onto the next operative and doing the same. By the time I reached the third operative, I was confident I would have enough coins.

  The man seized my wrist. “You thought you got away with it?”

  I tried to jerk free, but he was strong. I wondered briefly if he used a magical grip to hold onto me. As I strained against him, he sat up. Reaching into my pocket with my free hand, I plucked several coins, and shoved them against him, triggering the coins. The first one popped, and with it, he released me. I fell back, rolling off to the side, and the second one fired, triggering like the first—another pop. The third was different. It was an explosion, and that close to him, up against his skin and pressing against his chest, it blasted him backward. I didn’t need to see the after effects to know it had caved in his chest.

  I tried not to think about what I had done. How many operatives had I now killed? What was I becoming? The alternative wasn’t any better, but I had to feel as if I could find another way. I was a physician, after all.

  I sat there, knowing I needed to get moving, worried that lingering would only end up with another operative appearing, forcing me to make a move. But there was nothing. I was alone. Getting to my knees, I reached into the pouch, feeling for how many coins I had. With each person I had attacked, I had reclaimed additional coins. So, even after as many as I had used, I still had a few left, more than I’d had before all of this started.

  And as I looked around, I still didn’t have any idea why there had been a shift of power here. Obviously, the operative thought this was a place that mattered. With as many as had shown up, something was taking place here.

  What, though? I thought through everything that had happened in the time since all of this had started. There had been the power outage at the hospital. As far as we now knew, that had been an attempt to draw Kate out, or perhaps it wasn’t to draw her out but to draw power in such a way that it would draw her out. Then there had been the failure of the generators. I had fixed that, and then Barden had fixed the power outage. Through it all, Matt had been helping, telling me about the Shara, soldiers he had wanted to be like, soldiers who…

  A darkened figure made its way along the hallway. I got to my feet, backing up against the door, reaching for coins. I held five spell coins in each hand, twisting them so they sat between my fingers, ready for me to fling them at my attacker. If this was just a single operative, I thought I would be able to overpower them, but if there was more than one, I might not be able to do so.

  As the figure approached, I could make out the magic building from them, power flowing outward, and something about that power raised a warning within me. It was a barrier.Any attack I might try would be futile. It would strike against this barrier, pounding against it uselessly, leaving my attack pointless. I had to wait until they were out in the open, and then I could send off a flurry of triggered coins and try to unsettle the barrier.

  Backing up against the wall, I was near the door, and on the other side of it, there came the continued sound of an attack. Power bursts, a rhythmic pattern, one after another. What was taking place out there? Veran and Cynthia wouldn’t be able to withstand an ongoing attack like that, and as this figure approached, I wondered if I would be able to withstand one in here. Maybe none of us would make it out.

  Where was Matt in all of this? He should have come—unless he had been caught out by John Adams.

  And there was the other concern I had, the hint of doubt that had come up as I had begun to work through the various possibilities of what we were dealing with. I didn’t want to think about it, but what if Matt had been using me?

  As the figure emerged, I relaxed. “Matt?”

  He took another step, and when he did, a second person came into focus. They had been hiding—masked, most likely—and my heart hammered.

  John Adams stood behind Matt.

  19

  As Matt approached, I couldn’t believe he was with John Adams. At the same time, it all made a certain sense.

  “You’ve been using me,” I said, holding the coins out from me. I wondered if they would even work against Matt, let alone against John. It was possible—probable, even—they would not. There might not be anything I could do against him.

  “You don’t understand, Dr. Stone.”

  “I think I understand quite well. You wanted to be one of the Shara.”

  John Adams watched me, a hint of a smile on his face. “You think that was his concern?”

  Turning to Matt, I frowned. “Wasn’t it?”

  He just stared at me, a blank expression on his face, and because of it, I felt s
o incredibly uncomfortable. What did I know about Matt, really? He had battled an elder vampire and had held his own. He had battled others of the Shara, and he had again held his own. If it wasn’t about him taking his place among them, then what would it be about?

  “Whatever this is, you are going to fail.”

  “I thought we might,” John Adams said. “When you interrupted my plans at the hospital, I questioned whether it would be successful, but then Matt revealed his intention with me.”

  I turned to Matt. “Why?”

  I couldn’t hide the hurt in my voice. What was the point in doing so? I was hurt. I had trusted him, despite my best intention, knowing he might not be trustworthy, I still had found a way to trust him. And I had been betrayed. Again. It hurt, and yet, there was something he hadn’t been able to do. He hadn’t been able to prevent us from succeeding.

  “You aren’t going to succeed with whatever you plan,” I said.

  “I think you’re wrong,” John Adams said.

  Matt lunged toward me.

  I’d seen him move before, and was prepared for the speed. Whatever he did had to be enhanced in some way. A spell – or else he had something placed on him the way John Adams had.

  I flung a fistful of coins at him. I triggered the first, and it bounced harmlessly against the barrier. The second did the same, but the third hit the ground, and as I triggered it, it exploded, sneaking underneath the barrier. Matt staggered back, and he spun off to the side, away from the other two coins I had thrown, avoiding their impact. As he did, he pulled something from his pocket. Whatever he used would be powerful.

  I had the other fistful of coins, and I sent several toward Matt, triggering them quickly before he had a chance to use whatever he was going to try on me, and the others I sent toward John Adams, flinging them with a furious rage, triggering them as fast as I could. It didn’t take long for me to realize those spells bounced harmlessly away from John Adams.

  I dropped, digging into my pouch, snatching up another fistful, and as my hand gripped the coins, a spell burst from near me. I wasn’t prepared for it when it struck.

  Everything stopped moving. I gasped. I couldn’t move. My arms and legs didn’t respond to any commands. For a moment, I feared I wasn’t able to breathe, but then I took a deep breath, shaking that fear away. But there wasn’t anything else I could do.

  The Paralytic. Barden had warned me about it, and had said I wouldn’t want to know the helplessness that came with it, and now I experienced it, now I understood what it could do, I knew he was right. This was the kind of spell that terrified me. The kind of spell I would do anything to avoid, and yet, here it was, holding me.

  I’d seen the hedge mages overpower it before, so was there any way I could? Not with the basic knowledge I possessed. I needed more to be able to do so, certainly more than I had. As those thoughts worked through me, I realized it was already too late. Matt was there, looming over me.

  Could I talk? “Why?” I managed to get out the one word, but my voice felt strained, raspy, and I wondered if my vocal cords were paralyzed along with the rest of me. The spell was impressive, though having seen it before, I knew it was impressive. I’d seen the way it could be used, and had a sense for how long it lasted. Would I be able to hold out long enough?

  Matt grabbed me under the arms, hoisting me upright, and although I tried, there wasn’t anything I could do to fight.

  “Stay quiet and you might live through this,” he whispered.

  “You. Used. Me.”

  That was the only thing I could come up with. All of this was an audition on Matt’s behalf, his way of trying to convince the Shara he could—and should—be a part of them. And all of this was meant to prove he was as competent as them. Had the attack on Jean-Pierre been the same thing? Could this all have been an audition on his behalf? I tried to think through everything that happened, and even as I did, I didn’t know. It was possible it had been all part of some plan of his, his way of proving he belonged.

  “You don’t know enough about the magical world,” Matt said. He was dragging me along the hallway. It reminded me of the last time I had been here. That time, he had transported me here, and had escorted me along this hallway, telling me about the dangers here. As we passed, I felt the vague sense of power lingering in the hall. Somehow, whatever Matt did was keeping him from suffering the fate of anyone else who might come along through here. If only I could trigger it.

  I couldn’t think of doing anything. I was panicked, and when it came to magic—at least, my magic—panic was not helpful. I needed a calm mind, and to be able to settle myself, use that to delve into a sense of helplessness; and then again, what was this but helplessness?

  We reached the end of the hall. It was too late. I wasn’t able to trigger anything.

  “You think you know, but you’ve only been a part of it a short time. There are powers that need to be checked, and there is danger coming.”

  “Trapping Kate won’t help.” It seemed as if it had become easier for me to talk, but I didn’t think the spell had completely worn off. It was more that I was growing accustomed to the Paralytic and how it allowed me to talk. I couldn’t open my jaw, but could speak through a partially open mouth, and could use my tongue. I was like a demented ventriloquist.

  “In that, you’re wrong. Your friend is dangerous, and the return of her power has awakened something even more dangerous.” He tried to make it sound as if he was doing this for altruistic reasons, but this had all been him scamming me.

  With everything I had gone through over the years, everything I had suffered and all of the torments I had experienced, I should have been better at avoiding scams like this. In my mind, I thought I had been. And yet, here, Matt had completely convinced me. He had used my initial doubt to prove himself, and in doing so, had gained even more trust. That was probably why he was trying to convince me of his interest in me. That was faked, too. It was almost enough for me to want to give up magic, to abandon this world altogether. I was perfectly content in the emergency room. I had a place. I knew what I was doing. And I had a budding relationship I wanted to explore. This kind of thing, feeling the sense of helplessness, the way I was used, I hated it. It reminded me what I had experienced when it came to my family.

  He pushed open the door. I’d been here before, and when I had, there had been one of the operatives trapped, held in place, bound. Matt had used me then, too. All of that, releasing the tracking spell, had been a part of his plan. It angered me.

  I tried to fight, I tried reaching for some part of me that could move; they could overpower the paralytic, but I could not. Barden knew a way, and I wished he had taken the time to teach me, show me what it was that I needed to do in case I ever had to overpower such a spell.

  He brought me to the middle of the room, to an empty chair. Propping me up, Matt strapped my hands behind my back, tying my legs together with another stout zip tie, and he snatched up the pouch, throwing it off to one side. “You won’t be needing that.”

  “How long do you think it will take?” John Adams said.

  “I shifted the focus to this room. Once she knows her friend is dying, she will return.”

  “Are you sure? If you’re wrong in this, then everything you intend—"

  “I’m not wrong,” Matt said. He glanced over at me. I could just make him out of the corner of my eye, barely enough to see what he was doing. He stood near John Adams, comfortable, unmindful that this man had been responsible for such torment. Then again, all of that torment, everything I had observed, might have been fake. “I overheard her and Barden Leifan talking. It fits with all of the other reports we have. And once she knows her friend is here, and failing, she will come for her.”

  “You had better be right.”

  I could feel the electrical power around me. It was practically crackling, an energy that shook the room all around, and whatever it was—a Faraday cage like Barden had suggested or something else—was strong enough
now.

  Matt turned toward me. He had a long knife in hand, and he brought it toward my neck. I couldn’t move. I could follow the knife as it came closer, could practically see the gleam of light along its surface, but there was nothing I could do to escape.

  “So much for getting out of here alive,” I said.

  “It depends on your friend, now.”

  As he brought the knife close to me, I felt something. It wasn’t an ability to suddenly get free, but a surge of power. Magic exploded. I glanced toward the door, and Matt frowned, turning.

  “Something’s wrong,” he said.

  “How do you know?”

  “She can detect magic.”

  “A hedge mage?”

  “I share your surprise, but I’ve been around her enough now to recognize when she does it.”

  “For this to work, we can’t have any distractions.”

  John Adams and Matt went to the door, pausing for a moment, and headed out. It left me alone in the room. I needed to figure something out now. I didn’t have any time left, and at least understood what was at stake. Only my life.

  They might think Kate would come for me, and in doing so, they would use me as bait, trying to draw her out so they could capture her. But with everything I been through over the last year, I had a hard time believing Kate would come for me. It wasn’t that she didn’t care. I knew her well enough to know that wasn’t the case. It was more that she likely was off doing other things. Her understanding of her power, searching for knowledge, was valuable.

  What’s more, the connection we had shared, a bond which had formed between us when I had nearly died and she had brought me back, had faded. Whereas before there would be the occasional sense of her, an understanding of where to find her, and the fact that she was out there thinking of me or whatever else she was up to, had disappeared. It was no longer anything I could count on.

  It left me believing that if they tried this, if they did slice me, I would die. I wasn’t ready to die. I was young, and dealt with death on a daily basis at work, but I didn’t want to die. I wanted to continue to help others. I wanted to find true love. I wanted to have a family. I wanted all of those traditional things. And strangely, I didn’t know if that fitted with me having a part of the magical world. Maybe I didn’t want that.