The Trouble With Magic

by Tania Hutley

  The demon looms over me, coming to finish me off.

  Gunshots boom, deafening me. The demon recoils. It wheels around to face Xander. I think the bullets are only pissing it off.

  Xander squeezes off another shot. The creature claps its hands over the wound and for a moment I dare to hope it’s actually been hurt. Then it stalks toward Xander, its blood-slicked palms extended.

  Xander levitates off the ground as though snatched up by an invisible hand. He kicks and thrashes, but the demon’s magic holds him up, lifting him high into the library’s central atrium.

  Then his legs and arms jerk out. They splay wide and he lets out a shocked yelp. It looks like the demon’s power has hold of each hand and foot, and is going to tear Xander apart. To rip him into four pieces.

  “No!” I try to scream the word, but it comes out a croak.

  Scrambling to my feet, I grab the closest thing to a weapon, one of the rocks that fell. I hurl it at the creature with all the strength and power gained from years of hard physical labor. The rock flies straight and true, with all the force of my fury and fear behind it. It slams hard into the beast’s cloaked back.

  The demon doesn’t seem to notice.

  Xander cries out in pain. His T-shirt rips at the seams, stretched too far. His muscles will tear next.

  The demon’s too strong. It’s going to kill us both, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Twenty-One

  Blind panic fills me. I can’t let the demon kill Xander.

  Launching myself forward, I stumble across a pile of fallen books and slash my arm against the splintered edge of a toppled bookcase. The skin rips open. My blood flows.

  My magic surges again, and this time I use my rage and terror to grab hold of it, gripping both strands of magic as hard as I can. I don’t care if they’re tangled and I can’t control them. It’s my only chance.

  The picture in my head is one of pure desperation. Saving Xander and killing the demon. Nothing else matters.

  With a scream of anger, I let the magic go.

  My earth magic roars in my senses. It’s wild and unbelievably strong. I’ve always thought the animal magic was the strongest, but now my earth magic’s intensity is shocking. The two types of magic somehow feed and intensify each other. Their power is all I can feel.

  The rubble of broken marble pieces littering the floor all lift together, flying into the air. They swirl around me, forming a tornado of missiles. There’s no wind, just a chaotic, violent mess of rocks, spiraling and crashing against each other. The rock tornado builds until it’s roaring through the library’s central atrium, straight for the beast. When the rocks slam into the demon, Xander drops to the ground.

  The demon is swallowed, hidden from view inside the swirling debris. Then it’s launched out of the tornado. It flies like a missile and slams into shelving on the far side of the library. The demon scrambles unsteadily to its feet and lurches for the door. Staggering and bleeding, it disappears outside.

  For a moment, all I feel is relief. And then a pebble hits me in the face and I yelp in pain, holding my hand to my cheek. Blood pools in the wound and the whirling rocks surge faster.

  Books and bits of broken desks and shelving join the tornado, making it bigger and more violent. Instead of calming down, it’s gathering momentum. I’ve lost all control of it. Small stones fly out and continue to pelt me. One slices a hot gash into my arm, feeding the magic even more. Another hits my leg so hard I cry out and almost fall.

  The tornado moves closer to Xander and I try desperately to pull back the power, to stop it. I’ve never been able to see the magical energy like I can now. I can trace the bright strands with my eyes as well as feeling them. I try to pull on the strands, but my animal magic is in the way. It’s tangled in the earth magic, twisting in the stone tornado, yet it’s not being discharged the way my earth magic is, making it impossible to reign in.

  Its rocks spiral around the library’s atrium, slamming into everything in its path. Xander covers his head, but the maelstrom is on him now. Rocks and books pelt him. Instead of being saved, he’ll be beaten to death.

  I take a sobbing breath, my arms covering my head to protect against flying missiles, and strain with every ounce of energy left inside me, trying to harness the windless tornado. The stones keep flying.

  In the distance, sirens wail.

  Right in front of me, Xander’s completely hidden by a swirling wall of rocks. I have to stop them before he’s beaten to a bloody pulp.

  If he isn’t already.

  Straightening my shaking, swaying body, I reach out again and try to grasp the glowing tangled strands of animal magic. At first, they slip away from me, stinging my fingers. But I grit my teeth and take a step further into the maelstrom of magic. Stones are hitting my arms, but I ignore them, and use my brute strength to grasp hold of a strand of animal magic. I will not fail Xander.

  My hands are clenched tight around the animal magic, and I yank it back toward me. The magic digs into my skin, distorting my flesh, and the pain is more than I can bear. But I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I drag the animal magic back inside me, inch by inch, never stopping, whimpering with the pain as I do it.

  My hands mutate, my skin hardening and my nails becoming claws. My face burns as it twists and deforms. But the ragged wound on my arm has stopped bleeding, and the tornado of rocks is slowing.

  With a last, raw scream, I yank the last of the animal magic out of the tornado, forcing it back inside what’s left of the council’s bindings.

  The rocks fall to the ground. In the middle of the debris, Xander lies motionless.

  I hobble over to him, almost falling on him in my desperate rush to see if he’s okay. He’s covered with cuts and welts. Every bit of skin I can see is either flayed open, or black and swollen. What if he’s dead? I grab his arm with hands that have recovered their normal shape, praying he still has a pulse.

  When my blood-covered hands land on his skin, a shock jolts through me. The council’s bindings are too weak to restrain the animal magic I dragged back inside me. Before I can stop it, the magic pours into Xander.

  His wounds heal in front of my eyes. The bruises, cuts, and welts vanish, leaving his skin smooth. He groans and rolls over.

  “You’re o-okay?” I demand. “I th-thought you were d-dead.” My teeth chatter, a reaction from unleashing so much power.

  “I thought I was, too.” He pushes himself up to sitting and I try to help, but I’m so weak I hardly have the strength to hold myself up. All I can do is flop down next to him.

  “Where is it?” asks Xander, looking around but not making any move to stand up. “What happened to the demon?”

  “It g-got away.”

  “Shit.”

  I swallow. Now I know Xander’s safe, frustration creeps in. The creature that killed my family is still out there. That thing ate my mother’s heart.

  And it’s a lot stronger than we are.

  Xander reaches out with both hands to take my upper arms. “You look like you’ve been through a war.” He checks me over, his brow pulled down in concern. Then he pulls me closer. “You’re shaking,” he murmurs. “You’re cold?”

  I drag in a deep breath and focus on calming my heart’s wild beating. “The effect of the magic. I’ll be alright in a minute.” At least this time my teeth don’t chatter.

  Xander tucks me against him and wraps an arm around me. Considering he was all but dead a minute ago, he seems remarkably alive now. Not just alive, but warm and strong. I like the way it feels as I mold myself against his chest.

  The siren is getting louder really fast, and I consider suggesting we make ourselves scarce so we don’t have to answer any difficult questions. But it’s probably too late now anyway, and I don’t think I have the strength to move.

  We’re totally alone in here, for now at least. Everyone must have evacuated the building when the demon’s dark spell made it start shaking.

  “I don�
�t get it,” says Xander thoughtfully. With my ear against his neck, the words rumble in an appealing way. “The old man said the demon’s essence was trapped in the bone. He said it was using a witch to do its work. He didn’t say anything about a jackal-headed thing walking around with an actual, physical body.”

  “That can’t be Jeqabeel’s corporeal form. A man with a jackal’s head isn’t the monster we saw in the drawing.” I shudder. “Maybe that’s what happens when you let a demon control you. The demon must have lent the witch its face to eat hearts. That has to be the way it absorbs the power.”

  “It was strong, whatever it was,” says Xander. “We’re looking for a powerful, evil witch. Any spring to mind?”

  “Magnus Fox.” The name tastes bitter in my mouth. “In the months before my mother died, there were murmurs that she should became head of the council instead of him. Maybe the position meant so much to him, he was willing to kill for it.” It’s been a pet theory of mine for years, but one that no one else is willing to consider.

  And now he smells of dog. Suspicious much?

  Suddenly I remember the grimoire. My backpack is gone. It must have been torn off when the demon threw me into the library stacks. “Xander,” I say urgently. “We need to find—”

  “Freeze!” shouts a voice from the door. “Police!”

  Xander lets go of me and puts his hands up, then slowly turns toward the policemen storming in. I follow his lead, getting to my feet when they order me to. I let them pat me down, glad they haven’t handcuffed me. Maybe I’m too sorry a sight, covered with cuts and bruises, and probably deathly pale.

  I’m worried about the grimoire, but it must be down in the lower levels, where the mundanes can’t go, at least. And with the mess down there, hopefully nobody will stumble across it.

  The policemen lead us outside, past firemen who are running in. Several police cars are parked in front of the building, but they take us to an ambulance. The medics check us for injuries and one asks me to sit on a gurney while she starts bandaging the worst of my cuts.

  When Xander discovers he doesn’t have any cuts to bandage, his wide-eyed gaze jerks to me. He must have felt that final discharge of my magic, but probably hadn’t realized what it did.

  If only I could heal people intentionally, it would be a handy skill to have. My animal magic must have responded to my fear for him. If it weren’t so difficult to control, I might try to do it again. I’d love to heal my own aches and pains.

  More police cars arrive while I’m arguing with the medic over whether she can take a pair of scissors to my last pair of jeans to clean a gash on my leg. I insist on yanking the denim up as far as I can instead, refusing to wince at the pain.

  Then a large black sedan pulls slowly to the curb. The back door of the car opens and a tall woman steps out, dressed in a neat black skirt and white blouse. I recognize her as Baltimore’s outspoken mayor, Anna Trent.

  Beside me, Xander curses.

  “Your mother?” I ask unnecessarily. She has eyes just like Xander’s, only hers are glacial. There are lines of strain around her mouth, but no laugh lines that I can see. Her brow creases in what looks like anger as she stares at the library. Smoke billows out some of the lower floor windows and there’s a large crack in the library’s outside wall. I wince. That was probably my tornado.

  The mayor stalks over to Xander, taking in his disheveled state. Both his jeans and T-shirt are torn, and he’s covered with dirt and blood. His hair is so thick with stone dust and fragments, it’s standing on end. But there’s no worry for him in her expression.

  “What are you doing here?” she demands. “With her?” Lip curled, she motions at me. “A suspect in at least one murder case.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone,” I say.

  Ignoring me, she leans closer to Xander. “What happened to the library?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” His voice has gone flat and his face is expressionless. A different person to the man who hugged me just a little while ago.

  His mother makes an impatient sound. “Vandalism? Destruction of public property? Arson? They’re just minor charges to add to her rap sheet, Xander, but I expected better from you.”

  His eyes jerk to hers. “You think we did all that damage? Nobody saw… anyone else coming out?”

  “Was somebody else there?”

  “Of course there was. Another woman’s been killed.”

  “Another murder?” demands his mother. “In there?”

  Xander hesitates, glancing at me. I know what he’s thinking. They’ll never find Amber, because her body is hidden in the depths of the library, shielded by magic in an area that mundanes can’t get to.

  “Ma’am,” interrupts a policeman who’s been hovering. “I’m sorry, Mayor. We’d prefer if you don’t talk about what’s happened until we’ve questioned them and taken statements.”

  Xander turns to him. “Am I under arrest, Harry?” He nods to me. “Is she?”

  I wince. Not at the question, but because the medic is washing grit out of the wound on my shoulder and her touch isn’t gentle.

  “We need to find out what happened, Detective Trent. I can’t say more than that until you’ve spoken to the leads on this case and given a statement.”

  “I’m trying to protect you,” hisses his mother. “You’re making it impossible. She’ll have a very public trial, then they’ll throw away the key. Do you really want to get caught up in it? To throw away all your hard work?”

  I swallow hard as the reality of our situation sinks in. What if I end up in jail?

  And if Xander’s charged with a crime, he’ll never get his job back.

  “Saffy’s innocent, Mother.”

  “Don’t be naïve. You’ve been suspended, your career is in tatters, and now this? If you don’t care about your reputation, what about mine?”

  The policeman turns to the young medic who’s probing the cut on my arm. “How long to bandage her up? I need to take them in.”

  “You’re going to charge us?” asks Xander. When the policeman hesitates, he adds, “Come on, Harry. It’s me.”

  Harry stares at him for a moment. Maybe he gives a small nod, because Xander’s lips flatten into a tight line.

  I sag back on the stretcher. What are we going to do now? There’s no way I’ll be able to stop the demon from inside a jail cell. And the possibility of being locked away for weeks or months, let alone years, isn’t one I want to think about.

  “I’ll speak to the captain,” says Xander’s mother. “There’s probably nothing I can do to save your career now, but at least one of us needs to try.” She stalks back to her car.

  “We’ll take you both into the station now for formal interviews,” says Harry with an apologetic look.

  “You’ll have to wait,” says the medic, not looking up as she concentrates on searching the cut on my leg for stone fragments. “She has another wound I’ll need to take care of before you take her away.”

  “Finish up inside the ambulance,” says Harry. “I want her kept secure.”

  The medic makes me lie flat on the gurney, then loads it into the ambulance. I get one last look at Xander’s stony expression before the doors close. Harry stands behind the ambulance’s rear window, as though he’s standing guard.

  The medic feels the flesh around the gash on my forearm while I look around, scanning for a phone. Uncle Ray might be used to doing Magnus’s bidding, but I need to find a way to call him and warn him about his boss. If Magnus is under the demon’s control, my aunt and uncle aren’t safe.

  The medic is wrapping gauze around the cut when the ambulance’s engine starts. I frown at her. “Where are we going?”

  She doesn’t answer, but moves to look through the window that separates us from the driver. Before she can get there, the ambulance takes off violently, sending her crashing against the vehicle’s back doors. I clutch the sides of the stretcher to keep from falling off.

  Outside the win
dow I can see policemen running after us, their guns drawn.

  Twenty-Two

  The ambulance careens wildly and it’s all I can do to hold on.

  “What’s going on?” yells the medic. “Who’s driving?”

  “I can’t see.”

  Could the demon have possessed the ambulance driver?

  Sirens start up behind us, but they don’t sound close. Whoever our kidnapper is, he has a reasonable head start on the police.

  The vehicle tears around a corner at top speed, and we’re thrown against the side of the ambulance. I land hard on the medic’s leg and she grunts with pain.

  “Sorry,” I tell her, gripping onto the ambulance’s side cabinets so it doesn’t happen again. Then I raise my voice and shout toward whoever’s driving. “Who are you? What’s happening?”

  The ambulance turns a corner so sharply, it rocks onto two wheels. The medic yelps and I grip the cabinets more tightly. If the driver answers my question, I don’t hear it over the clanging of medical equipment bouncing around on the metal floor.

  When the van lands hard on all four wheels, the medic and I share a wide-eyed look. We both concentrate on hanging on as the ambulance weaves around more bends at top speed.

  Then the ambulance brakes hard, and the medic and I both fall forward. The engine cuts out and the driver’s door slams. We barely have time to haul ourselves to our feet before the back door of the ambulance opens.

  For a moment, all I can see is a big man, silhouetted against the brightness of the day.

  Then Xander steps forward, his expression grim. “You okay?” he demands. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

  “You stole the ambulance? And you outran all those police?” I jump out. We’re behind an industrial building in a small, potholed parking area that’s out of sight from the road. I can’t hear any sirens. In fact, I can’t hear anything. The place is deserted, the windows boarded up. There’s nobody in sight.

  “I’ve lost them for now, but the ambulance is too visible to stay lost for long. They’ll be looking for us.” He turns to the medic. “Sorry about the wild ride. You’re not hurt? I’m afraid I can’t leave you the keys to the ambulance. You’ll need to walk back to the main road.”