A Squire's Wish: A GameLit novel (Hidden Wishes Book 2)

by Tao Wong

  I sipped on my drink again, ducking my head at her sincere thanks. Seeing my embarrassment, Lily smirked slightly before prodding my arm. “Now. Food!”

  “We just ate… Okay, fine. Lunch.”

  Chuckling softly, I stood and walked toward the food options. I knew better than to ask what. Her answer would just be “everything.” But as I walked away, I had to admit this was a better day than my own planned one. A quest to help others, time with a friend, and physical exercise too. What more could I ask for?

  Chapter 17

  As I stared at the array of stern-faced nuns before me, I had a brief moment of déjà vu. One so strong, I felt disassociated for a second, like a boat tossing on the tumultuous waves of memory. Then, reality snapped back, and I gestured at the chain we’d laid along the hallways.

  “We have enough?” I asked, weariness inching into my voice. After all, we’d had to run to the hardware store twice already just to get the damn thing.

  “We do now,” one of the nuns said waspishly.

  I ignored her tone of voice and reached out to touch the chain, sending a pulse of mana down it. I followed it as it flowed, my frown deepening as I felt the whirls and whorls, the unrefined edges where spell formulas had been compressed together or hastily completed, leaving a leakage. By the time the mana pulse had made its way back to me, it had lost nearly eighty percent of its charge. Unacceptable if I had more time. Utterly unacceptable.

  But…

  “All right, get to your positions,” I said, dropping the chain and waving the nuns aside. I turned away from the group as they moved away, my mind focused on the other, bigger problem. In minutes, I was before the inner ritual circle room, my hand raised to test its integrity.

  Bad. Even without extending my senses, I felt the psychic wind of mana blowing, the pressure being exerted by the being that was contained within the ritual. It was hidden, locked away in another dimension, but through the cracks, through the failing of the ritual circle, it was getting stronger. Much, much stronger. It felt—

  “What is it?” Alexa asked when she caught me standing there, my hand extended and a frown on my face.

  “Nothing.”

  “What is it,” Alexa demanded.

  “It feels like whoever—whatever is behind the circle, it’s pushing with everything it’s got. It’s sacrificing itself—its life to get through. I think… I feel that if it fails, it’s going to die,” I said. “Or at least significantly injure itself.”

  “Good.”

  “Maybe,” I said softly, dropping my hand.

  Alexa stepped forward, putting her face inches from mine when I attempted to turn away. “What do you mean, maybe?”

  “Just that,” I said.

  “You don’t trust.”

  “I trust. Well, you,” I said, pointing at her. “You’re a good person. Even if you try to act like you’re not, you’re a good person. You went with me to find Corey. You let him off the hook for abandoning us. You’re there with me for all of my quests, no matter what they are.

  “But your people? The Templars? They’re the same ones who taught you all supernaturals are evil. That the best you can do is have a business relationship with them, be polite and friendly. That in the end, we’re all ravening monsters waiting for the worst to come.”

  “Not you—”

  I held my hand up. “I’m a mage. I’m barely better than the monsters you label. At least, by your standards,” I said.

  “That’s…” Alexa’s lips tightened as she shut her mouth, unable to refute it. I could see the war on her face, the struggle between the deeply rooted beliefs in mercy and charity of her original faith fighting against the indoctrination of the Templars and their own experiences. I watched as conflict flickered across her face before she exhaled, pushing the discussion aside. “What do you intend to do?”

  I paused, uncertain. In the end, I had to either blindly trust a group that had already shown itself to be somewhat untrustworthy and fanatical in their beliefs, or I could release something dangerous into the world. On that side of the equation, I had the assurance from Caleb saying whatever I released wasn’t “that” dangerous, but I also knew Caleb was looking at it from the perspective of a master mage, one who saw threats in city-wide scales.

  The monster I might release might only be good enough to kill a city block, but that would be little consolation to the victims. Could I, would I potentially condemn others to death? Where, in all this, did I stand? What right did I have to make these decisions?

  “Is the mage done yet? Some of us have better things to do,” a voice said, breaking into my thoughts, shrill and high and pitched to ensure I’d heard. My lips twisted, and I realized we’d been standing there for ages, my body wracked with indecision. Damn it.

  “Let’s do this,” I said, gesturing for Alexa to follow me. Whatever thoughts I had, whatever doubts, I had come this far. Perhaps sealing the creature within, effectively killing it, was the wrong choice, but right now, I just did not have enough information to contradict the Templars. And for all the distasteful beliefs they had, they had spent centuries protecting humanity. Perhaps a touch of trust was reasonable.

  “I’m starting,” I called out, my hand on the iron chain while the other slowly worked the various materials into the damaged walls. Most of this prep work had been done already, the materials installed and reworked. Now, under the influence of the spell I was casting, the materials melted and shifted, adjusting themselves and accepting the ritual formulas I was installing in them.

  Step by step, spell formulas hovering in my mind, Alexa next to me with my notebook for reminders when I needed them, we walked the perimeter of the building. Of course, it wasn’t that simple. The building itself was broken up by hallways and rooms, forcing me to traverse around obstructions. It was at these times I’d scurry forward as the burden of keeping the ritual empowered fell upon the nuns directly.

  Step by step, the ritual was patched, but as each section that had been damaged was fixed, the amount of power flowing through the ritual circle increased. The requirements for keeping the channel open jumped as our strength weakened.

  “How many more?” Alexa asked as we hurried out of the boiler room.

  “Two,” I said shortly, saving my breath for more important things, like oxygenating my blood.

  “Goo—” Alexa jerked to a halt when the entire building trembled. Eyes wide, we both stared around us as dust floated in the air, and the building slowly settled. “Earthquake?”

  “Suuure?” I said uncertainly. The building moved, but it had felt wrong somehow. Before I had time to pin down exactly what the problem was, the entire building shuddered again. And then I realized, the building moved but not the floor. “What’s going on?”

  My answer came a moment later as a wave of corrupted mana rolled over us. I stretched my senses out, reaching toward the room, and sensed it then, the way the inner ritual circle was fracturing, the way the ritual’s weaknesses were widening. I tensed, waiting as I stood there, my hand outstretched and my senses extended to the maximum.

  Smash

  I felt it when the impact happened that time, felt the changes in the ritual circle, the way the ritual then shifted the impact into the building itself to blunt some of the force. I felt how the ritual’s cracks widened and the gush of mana as the impact faded.

  “It’s attacking the inner circle,” I said, my eyes wide.

  “It?”

  “Whatever is trapped in there,” I said, biting my lip. My mind spun as I searched for options and considered the ritual. I had no true understanding of the inner circle. I just did not have the ability to patch it together. Any attempt would be more likely to cause problems than solve them.

  “Get the children out!” Alexa snapped to one of the few free staff members. They nodded and scurried upstairs while Alexa tried to reassure the trapped staff we would have things fixed. Of course, the way she kept throwing glances at me while she was speaking informed
me she might be less certain of that than she said.

  Fix the secondary ritual? That made the most sense theoretically. If we fixed it, the reinforced inner ritual might gain sufficient power to stop whatever it was from coming out. Certainly, it’d stabilize somewhat, but with the inner circle even more damaged than previously, could it hold up? Or would I be pouring power into a faulty line?

  “Henry!” Alexa snapped at me as I dithered once again, attempting to divine the best solution. Unlike my gaming sessions, I had no time. No time to hesitate, no time to consider all the best options and come up with something smart and cool. I just had to decide.

  I crouched, grabbing the chain from the ground and flooded my mana within, taking hold of the spell that had been supported by others. I kept my mana flowing, taking the burden off the staff while I spoke.

  “Everybody leaves.”

  “What? No. This—”

  “I can’t stop the inner circle from crumbling. If we pour more power into it, I can’t guarantee it won’t explode. With the amount of mana that’s been stored inside the circle and the compound, the chain reaction could be explosive,” I said, explaining quickly even as I reached for the spell formulas I had left open. I quickly tied them off as I ran other calculations. “The staff can go. I’ll shut down the ritual, maybe even… Yes, invert the ritual, pull the mana out, and disperse.

  “Have them tear up the ritual at the fence when they’re out. Get the kids out. I’ll keep the inner ritual contained for four—no, five minutes.”

  “We can help you hold it up!” one of the nuns barked, but I noticed a few others had already left the chain, rushing onward to inform others.

  I shook my head in negation and pointed upward. “Kids.”

  I saw the conflict on their faces, the struggle. Their duty to the children won out over their stubbornness and distrust. With a nod, they let go and headed up the stairs, the commotion from above slowly increasing in volume. The pounding of feet, the raised voices of children and teenagers who tumbled around in surprise, it all filtered from above and reinforced my conviction to keep this ramshackle, hodgepodge of magic holding.

  Desires were weak shields against the spears of reality. With the nuns gone, I was bearing the cost of keeping multiple rituals open. Even as I shut the open connections down, finishing the patches one by one, I was also opening other areas, inverting certain aspects of the runes. The burden kept increasing, making me grit my teeth as energy continued to course out of me.

  Then, blessed relief. As if someone had joined me in pushing a car, I felt mana flowing again in the chain. This mana was cleaner, brighter than the others. Not pure but lighter and hopeful. There was only one person who I knew who passed that kind of mana on.

  “Alexa?”

  “Don’t bother asking. It’s my job, remember?” Alexa said softly. Refocusing on the real world, I saw her stationed facing down the corridor, one hand on the chain, the other holding her spear, glowing with a pure, bright light.

  “Thanks.”

  “Just do your thing,” Alexa said.

  And to that, I could only nod.

  Chapter 18

  Carry the two, multiple by eight hundred and fifty-three, integral of the result… Use Roland’s Fourth Law of Motion on the result, add Kaylee’s Sub-planar Integration Formula but swap the third and eighth lines out. My mind swam with formulas and calculations that were one part math, one part mystic formulas, and the last part intuition. Apply vigorously to close the open ritual circle.

  Next.

  My left hand clenched around the chain, feeding mana into the ritual circle. My right twisted and jerked as I used a physical component to substitute for portions of the formula while I chanted aloud. Pressure continued to increase, mana dropped, and still, there were four more open connections and three areas I needed to invert.

  Worst of all, we could only continue to feed the power in until I flicked the switch on the ritual. That meant the creature within the inner circle continued to bash at it without cease, not knowing we were going to release it anyway. It meant each attack sent a jarring force through the building, adding cracks that spread and knocked dust around. In addition, the blowback from the impacts toward the second ritual circle was painful to say the least and always took a few precious seconds to recover from.

  Overall, even with all that, we were nearly done when the abbess finally made her way back to us. The elderly matron frowned at the pair of us, the way Alexa glowed and I was twitching and jerking as power flooded through my body.

  “Will the ritual hold?” the abbess asked.

  “It won’t,” Alexa replied. “Henry is inverting the ritual to disperse the mana. Is the circle at the fence broken?”

  “It is,” the abbess said with a frown. “How did this happen? You assured me the ritual would hold until it was fixed.”

  “I didn’t expect it to be attacked,” I said with a snarl while I forced my cramping fingers to continue drawing runes in the air. “I can’t make accurate estimates without full information. As I told you.”

  “There is no reason to shout,” the abbess said with a sniff. “And you cannot release the creature.”

  “What creature?” I snarled. “Don’t you think it’s about time to tell me?”

  “No.”

  I growled but ignored the woman otherwise. Damn her and her idiotic rules. It didn’t matter—not really, since the ritual was coming down, whether she liked it or not.

  “Are you still going to release it?” the abbess asked again as I tied off the last open connection. I relaxed slightly when the burden on mana dropped, but only slightly. I still had those points of inversion to complete, and while theoretically it was simple enough to do, that was in theory. If I altered the formula wrong, we’d be looking at, best case, an uncontrolled release of built-up mana. Worst case? Probably an explosion.

  Why the hell does the answer for so many things involving magic end with an explosion?

  “I’m speaking with you!”

  “Busy.”

  “We are, Sister,” Alexa said, cutting in quickly before the abbess could speak again. “It’s the safest choice of action. Unless you can give us a very good reason not to.”

  The abbess fell silent for a moment, giving me time to finish inverting the last section. Now, I just had to verify the actual spell worked before I inserted the inversions. I ran through the ritual circle and the formulas as fast as I could, only barely hearing the abbess speak.

  “It’s a spirit trapped within. A dark, savage spirit that was too powerful for our people to end when they fought. They managed to weaken it sufficiently to trap it within the initial ritual. After which, our men purchased the building and reinforced the original ritual with the building as you’ve seen,” she said. “We cannot release it. The damage that will occur—”

  “Too late,” I said softly. “If you’d let us know beforehand, if I’d known… Maybe. But there’s too many gaps in the ritual now, too much wear and tear. Even if I wanted to reinforce it, it’d probably tear under the stress.”

  The abbess’s lips thinned and then she nodded as she stepped away from us. She clutched a large cross in front of her body, staring forward at the corridor while I inserted the formulas. At first, nothing happened, but the mana finally kicked in, the switch of the runes occurred, and while the ritual circle glowed and strained, it held.

  Held and started siphoning the power from the inner circle, pulling built-up mana into the external circle where it dispersed into the air. With the ritual now powered in another format, I released the chain and the spell, the sudden release of weight making me stagger.

  “Alexa…” I croaked out, waving at the chain. I could have saved my voice, since the initiate had released the chain a second after I had. Together we watched the corridor, feeling the building shake again when the creature attempted to free itself.

  “How long?” the abbess asked.

  “Ten minutes. Maybe less,” I said and slu
mped to the floor with my back against the wall. Damn, my mana well was drained. Feeling within, I could tell I had barely a quarter left, and that was only because I had been doing my best to husband the mana drain. I had a feeling Alexa was not much better, though the initiate refused to sit, her spear pointed at the doorway.

  “Can I do anything?” the abbess said.

  “A drink would be nice,” I said, then laughed softly. “Then just keep everyone back. I’ll try to… bargain with it. Or something.”

  My last waffly sentence received a look of incredulity from the abbess and Alexa, but in truth, it was the best I could do. If the spirit came out willing to talk, perhaps we could. If not, well, I had my spells. And my wards…

  Oh. Right. I had my portable wards.

  With a groan, I pushed myself up and retrieved my backpack with its blocks of wood and metal. As I moved, I ignored the questioning looks sent my way by both women. Focus. I had to figure out the best way to set these up. Just in case.

  The silence over the last couple of minutes finally got to Alexa who burst, asking, “What is going on?”

  “Waiting,” I said. My terse reply got me a glare, which I had to chuckle at. “The spirit’s waiting for the ritual to fail completely.”

  “It can do that?”

  “Be a poor spirit that can’t sense Mana,” I said.

  “When?”

  “Any time now.” As I finished my sentence, a pop like an over-inflated balloon resounded through my soul. Corrupted mana gushed out from the room, the cold, almost slimy darkness of mana, making me shiver again. Eyes narrowed, I pushed myself to my feet. For long seconds, nothing happened, the door still remaining shut. Then with a shudder, the door collapsed outward, and a single, black snout followed by a black paw appeared.

  Mentally braced for a creature from the dark, a monster of Lovecraftian proportions, a spirit of the night that sucked souls and flayed humans, I realized what exited the ritual room was so much worse.