by Linsey Hall
“The war room! They plan all attacks in the war room. You’ll probably find something there.”
“Where is it?”
“Back of the castle, up the tower. But it’s impossible to get to without an invitation.”
“How do we know which tower?”
“You’ll know. It’s the worst place you’ve ever been in your life.”
He looked so sure that I believed him. “How many soldiers left here?”
“About a hundred. Maybe more.”
So, confirming what Jonnie had said. That was a lot, considering they were all highly trained mercs. No matter where they were going, we were definitely going to need backup to deal with them.
I stared down at the demon, debating. I could kill him. I should kill him. Magical signatures didn’t lie. He was evil. But I was in the position of power here. It would make me an executioner, and I didn’t want that. I preferred an even fight where my life was at stake.
That wasn’t the case here. And this…this wasn’t me.
Normally, you knew that if you killed a demon on earth, he’d end up back in the underworld, where he belonged. It wasn’t killing so much as it was banishing him back to the place where he could do no harm.
But this…
I didn’t know if he’d wake up in the underworld, or if this was his original realm. If I killed him, it could be permanent. For good.
No thanks.
I hit him on the head with the butt of my dagger, and he passed out. Quickly, I bound his mouth and limbs, then looked up at Lachlan. “Shove him in a room, will you?”
He picked up the unconscious demon like he weighed nothing and put him in the nearest room. I stood, brushing off my hands, and looked at them. “Ready?”
“Aye,” Lachlan said.
Jonnie nodded.
We headed off through the castle again. It was silent still. The sound of footsteps in one hall made us dart into an alcove and wait it out, but we continued without issue. Toward the back of the castle, the air began to grow colder. Icy. Misery seeped into my veins.
Dread opened a hole in my chest. “We’re almost there.”
“How can you tell?” Jonnie rubbed his chest, a sickly green color tinging his skin.
“Phantoms.” I shuddered. “Demon said that the tower was the worst place in the world. Well, that means Phantoms.”
“They must guard it,” Lachlan said.
“That’s my thought.” I nodded. “So we just have to get through them.”
“How?” Jonnie asked.
The options were shit. “Think happy thoughts. Try not to touch them. And run.”
Jonnie grimaced. “That’s it?”
“Unfortunately, yeah. But I’ve done it before, and I’ll do it again. You’ll be fine. Just keep a stiff upper lip, and we’ll make it through.”
He nodded, determination setting his brow. He looked so much like a demon that it was weird to be working with him, but I could still see the real him beneath it all.
We continued on, toward the icy cold and misery.
By the time we reached the Phantoms, my hands were shaking. I hated this part.
They lined a hallway that terminated at an empty space where a door should be. It was pitch black within the doorway, and somehow, that was worse. There were at least twenty Phantoms standing along the wall. A constant guard.
No one in their right mind would walk through that gauntlet. It probably wasn’t even possible. Sometimes Phantoms would reach out to touch you, sometimes not. Either way, it was beyond miserable.
I sucked in a breath and looked at my companions. “Ready?”
They nodded.
“Remember, happy thoughts.” I started forward, dredging up memories of playing with my sisters when we were young. In the rare moments that we forgot we were hunted. As teenagers, finishing a job in Death Valley and counting our money. Before we handed it over to the mobster, of course.
As I neared the Phantoms, the air grew even colder. I could have been standing on Everest, it was so chilly. My skin prickled and my veins flooded with ice.
Agony speared me as I reached the first Phantom, stabbing through my brain. I sprinted forward, trying to get it over with, but they were so powerful that my limbs slowed.
Visions of my sisters, dead, flashed through my mind.
The memory of my mother’s death.
Realizing that Rowan was missing, afraid for the worst.
Lachlan being killed.
All of my greatest fears and worst memories flashed through my mind. The Phantoms reached out with transparent blue claws, swiping at my arms. Pain sliced through me wherever they touched me, drawing a ragged gasp from my throat.
I stumbled, nearly going to my knees, but Lachlan dragged me up by the arm. I clung to him, and we kept going, staggering past the Phantoms.
Turn back, a voice hissed inside my head. Turn back or it will all come true.
Panic flared in my chest, a grasping thing that squeezed at my heart.
Was it true?
Could all of these horrible visions come true if I kept going?
No.
That was the craziness of fear talking. I wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t.
I had to keep going. Had to.
Three times, I almost turned back. The Phantoms were so compelling. I believed them—almost. If I kept going, my sisters and everything I loved would be gone. All of my worst fears would come true.
By the time I passed them, I was sweaty and my eyes were wet with tears. Panting, I stumbled to a stop inside the dark room that was at the end of the hall. With shaking muscles, I leaned against the cold stone wall and gasped.
“Are you all right?” Lachlan’s voice was rough.
“Yeah.” I ran a trembling hand over my face. “You?”
“Fine.” He looked at Jonnie, who was white as a sheet. “Jonnie?”
“Peachy.”
I chuckled, but it was a weak sound. It took a few minutes for the worst of the fear to subside. I’d never had it that bad with Phantoms before. These ones had been extra powerful, with the added jolt of being able to make me believe it would all come true.
But my fears had changed, hadn’t they?
I’d always been afraid for my family and friends, but now, that was all I’d been afraid of. In the past, there’d always been a smattering of fear that I’d never get my magic. That I’d never be good enough.
But I had my magic.
I was worthy.
And, it turned out, I kind of believed it.
I grinned. That was pretty dang awesome.
“We’re in the tower.” Lachlan’s voice shook me from my thoughts.
I blinked and looked upward, following his gaze.
He was right. The room was circular and tall, extending up at least fifty feet, probably more. But there were no stairs. Just an empty column that led to a room at the top. At least, I assumed there was a room at the top.
My druid sense seemed to like the idea of me trying to get up there, at least. It pulled toward the top of the tower.
“There’s got to be a way up,” I said.
Jonnie and Lachlan started searching the walls, and I joined them. I raised my hand, igniting the lightstone ring, and squinted through the gloom.
Near the entrance, there was a fancy inscribed symbol. Like something you would press a spy ring to and it would match the symbol and make stairs appear, or something.
Unfortunately, we had nothing that looked like that.
Jonnie appeared at my shoulder, squinting at the little carved inscription. “I can try to make a match.”
“Conjurer?” Lachlan asked.
“Yep.” Magic glowed around his hands, smelling something like a new car. Strange signature, but not bad. A moment later, a little iron ring appeared in his hands. He pressed it to the inscribed symbol in the wall and said, “No guarantees.”
I waited, breath held, but nothing happened.
Jonnie’s shoulders
drooped. “Dang. Needs some magic.”
“Like something to trigger the spell?” I asked.
“Exactly. Prevents something like this from happening.”
“Thanks for trying.” I leaned back and inspected the walls again. No way I was giving up.
After a few moments of inspection, I realized that the stones that made up the interior of the tower wall were so rough they created handholds every few feet. Some were really tiny, but they would do the job.
“It might be possible to climb this thing.” I shivered as I said the words.
Lachlan gave me a look, and I shrugged. “Got no choice.”
I might be scared, but if this was the only way, I was headed up, no matter how I had to get there.
I picked a particularly large set of grooves in the wall and started climbing. My fingers ached as I ascended, and my heart thundered like a freaking drum line. There was a marching band in my chest, and they were playing some scary freaking music.
Lachlan and Jonnie joined me, picking their own routes up the tower. Smart. Lachlan eventually lined up below me, with Jonnie to the right.
“Might not want to be under me,” I muttered. “In case I take a dive.”
“I’ve got you,” Lachlan said.
What, he planned to catch me with one arm while climbing up a wall like a hulking Spiderman? Actually, I wouldn’t put it past him.
That slowed my heart a bit, and I kept climbing, hand over hand.
My fingertips slipped on a particularly narrow crevice, and my stomach almost lodged itself in my throat. I scrambled for a handhold and made it, pressing myself against the wall and panting.
Holy fates, this was too much.
Muffin appeared beside me, fluttering in the air on his little wings. You look like you’ve swallowed rotten tuna.
I stifled a laugh and pressed my cheek to the stone, panting. “That’s not helping.”
Just saying. I calls it like I sees it.
I ignored him and kept climbing. We were halfway up when Muffin screeched. Shield! Incoming from above!
Instinct drove me as my magic kicked into action. I dredged up my shield power, the original magic that I’d had all my life. I didn’t know what was coming, but I trusted Muffin.
The magic struggled slightly, but finally, it burst to life, creating a shield over me, Lachlan, and Jonnie. Muffin hovered beside me, little wrinkled face turned upward.
When the acid splashed onto the shield, my magic faltered. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed myself hard, imagining a strong and impenetrable shield. This magic was now the hardest for me to use, since it wasn’t a gift of the gods. Bree had lost her root power when she’d transitioned to Dragon God.
Would I?
I really didn’t want to. For all that I’d complained about having defensive magic in an offensive world, it was really danged handy.
My fingertips ached as I clung to the wall and looked up. Green acid—either magic or the real thing—was pouring from above. Some kind of repellent charm meant to stop invaders. They should have sanded down the sides of the walls, but apparently this had been easier.
They hadn’t expected someone like me to break in.
“Can you hold your shield?” Lachlan asked.
“I think so.” My voice was shaky and weak as I gave every ounce of strength that I had to the magic. “Keep going.”
The acid battered at my shield as we climbed, pouring over the edge and raining down in the middle of the empty tower. If we fell, we’d be smashed on the stones below, then covered in acid.
Hell no.
You’re doing great!
Muffin sounded like a kindergarten teacher, full of cheer and encouragement. It felt a bit strange considering the circumstances, but I didn’t have the energy to call him out on it.
Keep going! Almost there!
I expected him to be waving little pom-poms in his front paws, but I didn’t spare him a look.
Every muscle ached as we climbed, and my magic was really starting to falter by the time we neared the top. I was running out. Then I felt a prickle of magic that signaled this was where the acid spell had begun. As soon as we passed it, the stuff stopped coming.
Panting, I clung to the wall and tried to catch my breath.
“I see a trapdoor to the right,” Lachlan said.
His fingertips scraped against stone as he climbed that way. Jonnie followed. I watched as Lachlan tugged at the door. It didn’t budge.
Crap.
Then his magic swelled on the air, bringing with it the fresh scent of pine and the taste of caramel on my tongue. Lachlan pressed his fingertips to the iron ring that was sunk into the door. It glowed bright red, then began to melt, droplets falling to the ground below. When enough of the iron latch had melted, the wooden door swung open.
Quick as a flash, Lachlan climbed up into the tower above.
“All good.” His voice echoed down.
Jonnie followed, and I trailed after. Lachlan helped pull me up into the room above, and honestly, I wasn’t going to complain. Fear had turned my muscles to jelly.
Somehow, I’d managed to spend all my life on flat ground. But lately, I’d had to climb so many insanely tall things that it was ridiculous.
“Nicely done,” Jonnie said. “We’d have been toast without your shield.”
I nodded, grateful it had kept working. It was harder to use and weaker than it had once been—a result of my body filling up with other magic and pushing out my original power—but at least it had worked. I vowed to practice it constantly so I didn’t lose it. We needed it too much.
On trembling legs, I turned and inspected the room. It was empty, thank fates, the leaders no doubt having gone along with the army. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were stuffed full of books and scrolls. In the middle, there was a large table.
I approached it, squinting at the three-dimensional model set up there. It was a battle plan, clearly, showing a village and a horde of demons approaching from the side, ready to attack.
I blinked, shocked.
The village was on a hill, and it had three walls surrounding it. My skin turned to ice.
My mother’s village.
14
“It’s my mother’s village,” I whispered.
“Where?” Jonnie asked.
“Celtic Otherworld.”
Lachlan pulled a cell phone from his pocket and snapped a picture right before Muffin sat down and swiped at the battle plan with his tail, destroying the setup.
In the upper left corner of the campaign board, there was writing. In Latin?
I pointed to it. “Can anyone read that?”
Jonnie leaned over and squinted. “Campaign of The Fates. In Latin.”
I blinked. The Fates?
I looked at Lachlan. “Do you think they’re really the three fates? Like, the famous ones?”
“They could be,” Lachlan said.
“But they control the thread of human life. One snip, and you’re done. They could have killed us already.”
“Maybe they can’t,” Jonnie said. “Maybe they’ve lost their power.”
Could be. Either way, we had to get a move on. Whatever their motive, there was no time to waste. “We’ve got to get out of here. The village will need backup.”
I pressed my fingertips to my comms charm and ignited the magic. When Rowan picked up, I told her what I’d learned.
“Just get back here. We’ll be ready,” she said.
“On it.”
I made a second call to Shen, letting him know we’d need a pick-up real soon.
“Be there in thirty.”
“Hurry.” I swallowed hard, hoping he’d make it in time.
“This way,” Jonnie said from beside a door to the left. Apparently, the top of the tower was joined to other parts of the castle.
Would the ground floor even be accessible from this level, or would we have to climb back down the tower?
It was worth explor
ing other options, that was for sure.
As soon as we stepped through the door, an alarm rang out. It tore through my head.
“Intruder alert.” Lachlan’s voice was grim.
“Let’s go!” I sprinted down the hall. We couldn’t get stuck here. The Protectorate needed the details of the attack.
The passage was dark and narrow, built of the same rough black stone as the tower. When demons appeared in front of us, having run from another adjoining hall, I didn’t hesitate.
They loomed in front of us, at least twelve of them, all armed to the gills. They looked like a cross between sea monsters and demons. More Fish Men, but even more evil-looking. Their dark green skin was covered in barnacles, and their horns looked like they were made of black shell. Blazing green eyes gleamed with murder. They roared and raised their weapons.
I called upon my new fire magic, wondering which god had given this to me. The power ripped through me. I threw out my arms, and flames burst forth, roaring through the hall and plowing into the demons.
Shrieks filled the air as five of them fell, engulfed in flame. There were still about ten behind them.
Jonnie lunged in front of me, hurling a blast of his blue light magic. It slammed into half of them, and they stiffened. Their eyes rolled back into their heads, and they slammed to the ground.
There were four left.
Two of them threw long daggers. I was too slow with my shield, so we dived out of the way. A dagger sliced across my shoulder. Pain flared, but years of experience told me that the cut was shallow.
I drew my own dagger from the ether and stumbled to my feet.
To my left, a flash of magic revealed Lachlan in his black lion form. He roared and charged, his midnight fur gleaming in the light. He was so big that he took up nearly the entire hall.
I clutched my dagger and lowered it to my side. “No point in throwing now that he’s out there.”
“Truth,” Jonnie said.
Lachlan tore through the rest of the demons, a green liquid flying as he went to town with fangs and claws.
Muffin fluttered next to me. I don’t think those Fish Men would taste very good.
“Nope.” I grimaced as a green arm flew toward us. “The neon blood is really off-putting.”
And they stink of rotten seaweed. I don’t like salad. Especially not rotten salad.
