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Spirit Box

Page 14

by E M Lacey


  Cora shrugged. “No one, in all the centuries of my existence, has ever broken a dying wish. Very few know what they are.” She paced the small space she occupied. “Maybe this wish was activated by accident.”

  “Accident or not, we have to figure out what the wish is and how to stop it.”

  “The vampire wants immortality,” Aurora said. All eyes were on her. “It’s not hard to figure out. His heart’s desire is what he would wish for.”

  Cora held up her hand to silence the group. She looked as if she were listening for something.

  McKellen was about to ask her if that was what she was doing when she shushed him. She disappeared from the spot where she stood and materialized in front of the door.

  “We’ve got company.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Alex did not envy Others, but at the moment, as she watched the slow rise and fall of Alba’s chest, she wished she possessed magic. She wished she could heal her, chase away the bad dreams, and be the person Alba could talk to.

  She hated the fact that Bridgette was the one Alba looked to for counsel. Alba told Bridgette all her secrets. She shared her strange nightmares with her. She did all the things with the witch that a child should do with their mother.

  Alex leaned forward and straightened out the blanket, though it didn’t need it. She ran her hand across the material. It was cool, soothing. She pulled back, settling into her chair and worrying. It had become her default since the vampire’s first attack.

  She pretended that her mind was elsewhere and she listened. She listened to the hunters whispering in the car about seeing the vampire again, which was crazy, considering she literally fed its heart to her daughter. It was dead. It could no longer hurt them. Yet somehow, this new terror that had invaded their lives was tied to that creature.

  Her gaze wandered around the room. It was larger than the house above it. It seemed to span for miles; most of it was bookshelves. They spanned the length of the room and rose as high as the ceiling. She dragged her gaze back to the small night stand, eyes wide when they settled on the keys to the SUV.

  She reached for them, paused, and pulled her hand back, folding it in her lap. Everything in her wanted to take Alba and run from this place. Run away from the creatures. The magic. All the trouble that had flooded their lives, but she couldn’t. The witch was healing her.

  Her gaze dropped to the glowing pink liquid in the vials. She wondered if the witch would have to repeat the process. Alex picked up a vial and held it in her open palm. The vial was room temperature. She expected it to be hot. It glowed like it should be.

  She pinched the vial between two fingers drawing it closer. The liquid looked like how she imagined pearls would look if they were in liquid form. It shimmered under the light. She dropped the vial in her skirt pocket. She counted the others. There were six of them. She took two more and slipped them in her pocket. They clattered together but did not break. They were not made out of that thin glass like the ones she’d found at Michael’s.

  Boom!

  Alex screamed as she was thrown from her chair. Her body ricocheted off the bed, bouncing sharply then slammed to the floor. Plaster rained from the ceiling.

  What the hell was that?

  Alex crawled over to the fallen table, grabbed the keys to the SUV and shoved them in her pocket, rose and scooped up her daughter. She wasn’t going to wait around to find out. She raced toward the exit.

  Chapter Twenty

  They fell like bowling pins when an explosion rocked the cottage. Cora was the first to her feet. She winked from sight.

  Sunni scrambled to her feet next and yanked open the door. She felt McKellen at her back.

  Cora was in front of them all. Her head tilted up, looking at something on the hill top. Their gazes followed. A shrouded figure held a large black shepherd’s crook in his right hand. Dark glowing red sigils were etched in it. They looked like blood welling in a wound. He cradled a large black box under his left arm. Symbols much like the ones on the spirit box back at the office covered it. A jagged finger of red lightning sliced through the sky, revealing a tear in the shielding that hid Keeper’s Cove from human sight.

  Thick clouds littered the sky, drowning out what was left of the sun, creating a perfect abyss. Ozone filled the air then curdled into decay. The shrouded man set the box down.

  The cobblestones and crevices among the trees lit up, offering enough light for the group below to see.

  A song of steel filled the space around them as Sunni spun her staff and the chainmail spread across her skin. It sealed, creating a thin white haze around her. McKellen began a chant and the air around him smelled of metal. He held out his hands, palms flat, facing up. In it, materialized a short blade. On its hilt was the McKellen family crest. It was the only bit of magic he carried. His ability to call to his blood and the blade in his hand was named appropriately: Kin’s Blood. He sliced it through the air, then drew it close and waited.

  “I have to get to Abigail,” Thurgood whispered.

  Cora floated off the ground and placed her palm to his forehead. His mind filled with images. “You’ll find her there. Go to her.”

  Thurgood headed down the path toward the coach house.

  Sunni looked around. She hadn’t seen Aurora since the blast. “Have you seen Aurora?”

  Montague scanned the area then his memory. “No.” He shook his head slowly. “I don’t recall her location since we left the house. Maybe she’s still inside?”

  “We don’t have time to look for her.” Sunni ran her hand across her scalp. She turned to Montague who stepped forward.

  “Is there any way I can help?”

  She nodded and placed her index finger between his eyebrows. “I need you to bear witness.”

  Montague turned to go back into the cottage to retrieve his messenger bag. He would need his recorder and note pad in order to record the events as Sunni requested.

  “Stop.” Sunni placed a hand on his shoulder. Montague experienced a bit of vertigo. His stomach did somersaults and his body felt as if it were floating. His eyes rolled until only the whites were present. Sunni lay her hands on his arms, guiding his levitating toward the house. He heard the door open and shut behind him. Sunni pushed his pliant form to a resting position on the floor. She leaned over him; ran her thumb across his brow.

  “Witness the battle beyond. Hold the sights, sounds, and smells. Bear witness when the knowledge is most valued. Let insight push forth when called. Witness when I call. Witness for the sake of your friends.”

  Sunni left him then, in what felt like a blessed slumber. She closed the door behind her, adding a layer of warding to the spells already protecting the cottage.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The shrouded man raised his shepherd’s crook and brought it down on the black box. A loud crack cut through the silence and the wind grew agitated. It whipped and screamed, rattling the trees and shoving the living. The box held. No visible cracks, but it lit up. A grid of sigils blinked, then faded.

  The shrouded man began a chant. His baritone was both beautiful and ominous, like a didgeridoo. With every word, Sunni felt magic rise. It melded with the elements, creating an echo. The shrouded man spread his arms, his chant strengthening. At its climax Cora struck, sending a bolt of magic his way.

  Sunni backed into the shadows as McKellen began a straightforward run toward the man and the box.

  The shrouded man smacked the incoming bolt away with his shepherd’s crook. Cora’s lips ticked up into a smile. She held her arms out straight, both palms flat together, then slowly pulled them apart. Several luminous arrows filled the expanse. For dramatics, she mimicked the motion of nocking an arrow then released them, rapid fire, at the shrouded man.

  He batted them away then aimed his shepherd’s crook at Cora. Red light pooled along the edge, creating a small red orb. Cora began casting as she pushed forward into a run toward the hill top. She stuck to the lit cobblestones just as the shro
uded man launched the orb.

  It sailed through the air, a trail of glowing crimson in the sky. Cora could feel it more than see it. She knew the others were near. Despite their disagreements about the fire witch, she was a protector of knowledge and living things were the best resources for collecting it. She stopped. Sensing a shift overhead, she took a knee. She raised her arm to shield her face, drawing forth an intricate shield of shimmering green light.

  “Shield!” she screamed as her own magic formed a dome over her just as the orb burst. Thick red drops fell. Several bounced from her shield, hissing, spitting, and burning whatever they touched. Cora felt the life of the land and trees wither away.

  The strange rain fall lasted for a few seconds. Cora dropped several layers of her shield, leaving a translucent barrier which was enough for her to see but remain protected. She wrinkled her nose as the scent of rotten eggs filled the air.

  She rose to her feet. Her movement disturbed the air around her, revitalizing another odor, decay. She followed the smell which drifted from the hill top. The shrouded man walked in a circle around the large black box; with each pass, he lay his hand on the top center, next pass, the center of the left side, and so on. With each touch, sigils came to life glowing against the darkness. An ugly, deep green glow filled the seams, revealing large magicked locks.

  Cora began her run, drawing speed from the land. He could not open that box. She drew shafts of magic and launched them at him. The shafts of magic flew true. Several should have hit his heart but the man danced out of the way. His shroud flared like wings, taking some of the hits. He used his shepherd’s crook to block others. Cora repeated her attack as she began her ascent. The shrouded man managed to avoid them all but one, which hit its mark, the heart.

  The shrouded man didn’t stagger, but raised his staff high, bellowing before bringing it down on the box. The crack could be heard over the angry wind, but it was the screams that stopped Cora in her tracks.

  A cacophony of wails, shrieks, and moans burst from the box. A thick cloud of sickly green smoke rose with them as creatures of all sizes and shapes crawled from the box. Some of the creatures were gray. Some were luminous white. The larger ones were black and glistened like oil. They were all a gothic imitation of humanity, each with crude blend of runes and sigils carved in their flesh. They looked to the shrouded man, who then looked down the hill at Cora. His gaze swung to a patch of trees to his immediate left, then to a thick set of shadows off to Cora’s left before returning his attention to the contents of the box.

  “Perdere!”

  Cora cringed from the power the shrouded man pushed into that word. He had just ordered his horde to destroy them. Cora reversed her ascent, scrambling down the hill. She kept to the cobblestone path. She had to keep those things out of the main house. She reached deep inside herself, feeling for the roots of the land, and began drawing forth some serious shielding.

  “Get to the main house!” she screamed into the air, infusing it with her magic and directing the words to the people who needed them.

  It was the one and only warning she would give the still-hidden McKellen and Immortalem advocate. She activated the defensive spells without missing a step. The Cove’s magic responded. Heavy cords of magic wove together like chains and pushed out of the ground. Once the barrier sealed, her form would begin to disapparate and rejoin the land. Cora was the magic that breathed life into the Cove and its only child. She would have to wake Bridgette who would defend the library and help the humans.

  The barrier’s rise quickened and so did Cora. She felt the shrouded man’s creatures pour down the hill and through her forest like dark water. Several had gained on her. She wanted to blast them with a bolt but she couldn’t spare the magic. So, she pushed on, as fast as she could. She had to be on the other side of the barrier before it got too high for her to clear.

  The shrouded man’s creatures that were pacing her veered away, darting off to the left and right of her as she closed in on the barrier. They kept close to the barrier’s edge, bumping it, testing it.

  Magic charged the space around her as she came up on the picket fence. The barrier had taken on an angry deep blue tint. Cora measured its height and prepared to jump. She measured her steps, adjusting her gait. Something large burst through the trees behind her. It was fast. She leapt and so did the creature. She felt the frigid tips of claws close in on her ankles as she stiffened her body and rolled. The claws grazed her bare foot as she cleared the barrier, which slammed shut. Her body rolled across the cobblestones and slid to a stop in the grass next to the door.

  She got to her feet quickly.

  “McKellen! Advocate!” She called as she jogged over to the barrier’s edge. She couldn’t get too close or she would disapparate instantly. Neither responded, which meant they were still outside.

  She couldn’t see anything. The darkness beyond the barrier was absolute. She cast a light spell on the barrier, hoping it would help her see and serve as a beacon for the others.

  Light radiated in a brilliant starburst above the trees but had little effect on the darkness. It dulled.

  Something skittered in the distance.

  Something made it through.

  Cora moved to pursue it, only to find herself fading. She lifted her hands. A steady stream of particles, like ash, rose into the atmosphere. She looked around, catching the shiny black limb of one of the shrouded man’s creatures disappearing in a thicket of trees along the path to the coach house.

  She opened her mouth to shout a warning but no sound came. Cora faded into nothing just as Alex opened the front door. Alex looked around the little yard taking note of the darkness pressing down against what looked like glass overhead. She had never been a religious woman but she made the sign of the cross over her chest. She scanned the area then tightened her grip on Alba, and ran toward the trees

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Julius shared a dinette table with Abigail in the coach house. It was a smaller version of the one they were evicted from. He managed to stuff himself in a dainty chair. He and Abigail were in the middle of an awkward conversation when they heard the boom. Abigail squeaked, leapt from her chair, and grabbed the first solid thing she could get her hands on, which happened to be Julius. He wrapped his arms around her and made reassuring noises, before prying her arms from around his waist, so he could go and investigate whatever was going on outside.

  A loud crackling scrape of something sharp being dragged down the exterior wall on the left side of the cottage stopped him. He tilted his head in the direction of the sound. There was a small dining area to the left of them, near the rear. There was a port-style window with sheer curtains next to it, but he couldn’t see anything. It was abnormally dark outside.

  Julius reached into the pouch draped across his hips. McKellen had taught him a thing or two about warding a perimeter. The assortment of powders and potions in vials were handy for such things.

  He ran his fingers across the vials. Runes were etched along the tops and sides of each vial, like braille, he was able to read them and formulate a proper potion. He plucked the essentials from the pouch and went to work. He began circling the room as quietly as he could, pausing at each of the four points to draw a protection rune on the north, south, east, and west corner of the small cottage. The entire time, he was chanting the spell McKellen taught him, allowing himself to be drawn into the magic, letting it guide him back to its center. He stopped two feet in front of a wide-eyed Abigail.

  A loud pounding followed by an inhuman shriek filled the quiet. Julius raised the barrier just as pounding joined the scratching. Whatever was outside of the coach house really wanted in. He could hear bits of the plaster exterior hitting the ground in chunks.

  Abigail curled her fingers into his shirt, her nails biting into his skin. She pressed her forehead against his back and whimpered.

  “Everything’s gonna be fine.” He reached back and pat her hand lightly. “I’ve erected a barrier.


  “Are you sure those things can’t get us?”

  “They can get into the house but not the barrier.”

  As if testing his theory, a creature burst through the wall next to the small dinette where they had been sitting. The delicate piece of furniture wrapped around the large clawed foot. Bulbous yellow eyes edged in green scanned the room. Its gaze landed on Abigail and its fleshy lips parted, flashing small gums and large teeth the same shade of yellow as its eyes.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Abigail sank her nails deeper into Julius.

  “Ow!” Julius disengaged Abigail’s nails without losing sight of the thing in front of him. “Look, Abigail, I have no idea what that is, but I don’t think you bleeding me out is going to help us.”

  The bulbous-eyed thing sniffed in their direction.

  “Sorry,” she squeaked.

  Julius sized up the creature. It was as black as the darkness outside and its teeth and claws formed nightmares. He wished McKellen was with them. He would know what it was. He had several books that were literal encyclopedias on otherworldly beings, but the thing in front of him was new, at least to him. It had a short spike at the base of its back, a tail that looked like it could double as a blade.

  The thing widened its stance. Long triple-jointed arms arched up like wings, blocking the hole it had created, proving itself a strategic predator. Its prey would not escape.

  Its head hung like it was too heavy for its thin neck. It bobbed and swung like a hypnotist’s pendulum as it took measured steps toward in their direction, then stopped three feet from them and roared. Julius jerked, suddenly remembering that he’d wasted time staring instead of thinking of a way to get them both the hell out of there, with a bonus of still living and breathing.

  The barrier should hold, allowing him precious seconds—if the gods were generous, minutes—to strategize. He forced his mind to center on his spell. He couldn’t see the barrier he erected, but he could feel it. It was like being wrapped in heavy chains while someone pulled them tighter every time he breathed. Julius didn’t have a drop of magic in his blood, which made him blind to its manifestation. For him, magic was a thing of faith, and with a big-ass monster a few feet away, his belief had been shaken.

 

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