Magic Wild (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker Book 4)

by Linsey Hall

  Well, at least we’d gotten the right trade goods. If I could kiss my books, I would have.

  “Is this enough for the cure?” Roarke asked.

  “Yes.” Her gaze snapped to me. To my shoulders, actually, where the straps of my bag cut in. “Does she have a bag of the obsidian also?”

  “Yes.” I took it off and put it on her table. “We would like to cure our friend quickly”—and get the hell out of here—“so if you could make two doses, I would be happy to give you this bag of obsidian as well.”

  She nodded resolutely. “Yes. Yes. It will only take a moment to mix it.”

  Fates, I hoped this really was the cure. But there was no way to tell until we actually took it.

  She set about gathering vials and a mortar and pestle. I looked at the back room. It was silent now, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Tension hung in the air.

  As she was pouring a liquid into a vial, I asked her, “Do we just drink it?”

  “Yes. If the cursed is not a Phantom, they need only drink it. The curse does not cling as strongly to the non-Phantom.”

  “And if they are part Phantom?”

  “Then the cursed must drink the potion and kill the one who cursed them.”

  Oh fates. Did that mean I had to kill Roarke’s brother?

  There was rustling in the room beyond, making my hair stand on end. “Is the potion complete?”

  The healer put two wooden stoppers into the vials and held them out. “Yes. Finished.”

  Roarke took them, tucking them into the pocket of his jacket. As soon as he had them, I reached for the transport charm in my pocket. If we could just get out of here, this place would disappear back into the past without my magic to sustain it.

  Before I could withdraw the stone, however, men surged from the back room, hurling potion bombs at us. They were all in Phantom form, their blue glow lighting up the dimly lit room.

  “What are you doing?” the healer cried.

  I dodged the bombs, but there were too many. One hit me in the stomach and exploded in a poof of gray powder, immediately making me woozy and weak.

  “They are traders! Do not harm them, idiot!” the healer cried.

  Beside me, Roarke was hit with two potion bombs. I stumbled to my knees, my head swimming. There were six assailants. Four of them went to Roarke, hitting him with three more potion bombs. Probably because he’s so big, I thought hazily.

  “What is the meaning of this, husband?” the healer demanded.

  I blinked, trying to clear my double vision, but it did no good. At least I wasn’t passing out. A man came to me and bound my wrists in a heavy rope.

  “They are foreign,” the tallest man said. “Too strange. We must bring them to the emperor.”

  The healer looked at the piles of obsidian on the table, clearly loath to bring any of this to the attention of the emperor and possibly lose her payment.

  “We will be rewarded, wife,” the man said.

  “They are just traders.” She gestured to us. “Let them go.”

  “No, they are more than that. I can feel it. We must take them to the emperor.”

  Dread curled in my stomach. Before I could protest—though I wasn’t sure I was even capable—two of the men dragged me up by my arms and hauled me out of the house.

  I needed to send this place back to the past.

  Through my hazy thoughts, it took everything I had to call upon my magic. I’d have to retract it all, drawing it back into me and sending them back to the eleventh century where they belonged.

  But nothing happened.

  Panic beat frantic wings inside my chest.

  The man dragging me through the street shook me. “Do not try to use your foreign magic. It will not work. The potion prevents it.”

  Did he mean the sedative that was making me so woozy? He must, because my magic was doing no good. Sweat broke out on my skin.

  The past was here to stay.

  And I was stuck in it.

  Chapter Eight

  They dragged us through the street, past magnificent stone buildings and up a staircase bordered on one side by an incredible fountain that flowed all the way down to the lower level.

  Roarke was so heavily sedated that the men had to half drag, half carry him. By the time we reached the very top of the mountain, they were all panting with exhaustion.

  Ahead of us was a huge building with the front wall entirely missing. It probably commanded a great view of the city and mountains beyond, but I was too drugged out of my mind to even turn my head.

  In the middle of the building was a huge stone throne. A Phantom man sat upon it. Though his entire form glowed blue, I had to assume that the headdress he wore was made of gold. He looked like the type to deck himself out in gold. Attendants stood on either side.

  “What have you brought me?” His voice was so deep and loud that I imagined it echoing through the mountains.

  “Strangers, emperor.” The man holding me shook me by the arm. “They appeared in my house.”

  My head bobbled on my neck, feeling like it might fall off. Whatever they’d put in those potion bombs, it was strong stuff.

  The emperor waved an elegant hand at us. “Check them.”

  One of his attendants hurried forward. The Phantom’s magic smelled of a fresh breeze, but the coldness in his eyes made me shiver. He got too close to me, sniffing deeply, then squeezing my arm. His touch felt like ice. He then went to Roarke, repeating the procedure.

  Finally, he turned to the emperor. “A World Walker and a demon hybrid. Dangerous beings.”

  “What do you suggest we do with them?” the emperor asked.

  Send us on our way. Kick us out of the city.

  “Use them in the sacrifice,” the healer said. “The gods will be pleased at their strength, and they will no longer be a problem for us.”

  Use us in the sacrifice?

  I’d read that the Incate had practiced human sacrifice, just like their human counterparts, the Inca, but this was too much.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but the best I could do was rasp out a weak, “No.”

  This sedative was so damned strong!

  The emperor nodded. “It is fated that they would arrive on the day of the great sacrifice. Send them to the Itatoapia. We will begin at sundown, as planned.”

  Holy fates, my power was now biting me in the ass. My magic was great and all, but it sure had a dark side.

  The men dragged us from the room. I did everything I could to kick and fight, but it was like moving through pudding.

  They pulled us out into the courtyard, and the emperor’s attendant approached. “Put them in the holding chamber. I will gather the chains, then we will go to the Itatoapia.”

  Chains? My head was spinning as they half carried me across the courtyard and tossed us in a small stone room. When the wooden door slammed shut, the room turned black as pitch.

  We were in a holding cell.

  Where we waited to be sacrificed to the gods.

  “Del?” Roarke slurred.

  Shit, shit, shit. We were screwed. I could barely move, my power was kaput, and Roarke was in no better shape. Also, it was nearly sunset. The sun had been low in the sky just a moment ago. We were weak as kittens and about the be sacrificed.

  Think, think, think.

  My bound hands trembled as I reached for my left jacket pocket, seeking the transport charm. I fumbled until I found it, drawing it out of my pocket.

  “Roarke,” I slurred. “I’m going to throw this. Roll into the dust when it blasts up.”

  “Ooh-kay.”

  I chucked the stone against the ground, but nothing happened.

  “Damn it.” Normally, a cloud of silvery dust would poof up, and we’d step into it, transported to wherever we desired.

  But the holding cell had magic that blocked escape. Which was no surprise, really. I scooted forward, woozy, and grabbed the stone, then shoved it back into my pocket.

  I re
ally wished I’d made a point of stealing more demon powers. I might have had something in my arsenal—like a resistance to potions—that could have helped. But I hadn’t. And we were trapped. Powerless. We couldn’t fight, but that didn’t mean my friends couldn’t. If only they could reach us. I dug into my pocket, seeking my cell phone. I fumbled it out and pressed the little button. It glowed to life, bright and welcoming.

  As expected, I had no signal up here.

  But GPS… Since I’d brought the past to the present instead of vice versa, that meant the satellites were still hanging up there in outer space, observing an ancient ritual down here on Earth that they’d never before witnessed.

  I fumbled with the buttons, my fingers moving so slowly. Eventually, our GPS coordinates were revealed. Carefully, I laid the phone on the ground so I could see the numbers, then raised my hands and pressed my fingertips to the charm around my neck.

  “Cass?” I slurred.

  “Del!” she cried.

  “Shhhh.” I didn’t want to alert the guards, if there were any. Not like we could get out of here on our own steam. I did my best to mutter out our coordinates, repeating them once I had finished.

  “I’m—”

  The door to the cell slammed open, cutting off Cass’s words.

  “What is that?” the guard demanded. He stomped over and grabbed the cell phone, muttering to himself.

  I sagged back against the wall, praying that Cass had gotten the message about where we were.

  “Black magic,” the guard muttered. “Trespassers. Food for the gods.”

  Food for the gods? I was food for nobody.

  Annoyed, I spat at him.

  He backhanded me across the face. Unfortunately, he was a beast of a Phantom, and the blow knocked me clean out.

  When I came to, I saw the sky. It glowed in hues of yellow, orange, pink, and purple.

  What a beautiful sunset.

  Then I heard the voice chanting overhead. And felt the chains at my wrists and ankles, the hard rock beneath my back.

  Holy fates, I was chained to a rock about to be sacrificed.

  My heart leaped into my throat. I jerked against my bindings, my muscles finally responding to my demands, at least a little bit. The sedative had worn off partially, but I was still weak.

  I thrashed my head, trying to see around me.

  Roarke lay next to me, chained to his own rock. He still wore his black jacket and jeans, and I was clothed, too. Thank fates for small favors. We were surrounded on all sides by a crowd of eager Phantom faces.

  At my head, the emperor’s main attendant stood, a glinting blade in his hand.

  A scream built in my throat. I swallowed it. I wouldn’t give these assholes the satisfaction. And if they were hoping to sacrifice a virgin, they’d be sorely disappointed. I sure as hell wasn’t going to start screaming my head off.

  The attendant was chanting in tune with another Phantom who stood over Roarke. I could no longer make out what they were saying, so Connor’s translation potion must have worn off.

  The sun was dipping in the sky. If I lifted my head, I could just make it out as it began to sink behind the peaks in the distance.

  But something was flying toward us, silhouetted by the sinking sun.

  Hope rose in my chest, a light that couldn’t be extinguished. Closer and closer, the beast flew. Finally, golden feathers glinted in the light.

  Aidan, flying in his griffin form!

  Cass and Nix rode upon his back. When they were close enough that I could see their eyes, Cass leaned over and shot fire from her fingertips, blasting the Phantoms.

  Though I didn’t think it could harm them, it sure did startle them. The crowd jumped back, gasping. The two attendants who were chanting and holding daggers stopped abruptly.

  “Hang on!” Cass cried.

  I wanted to whoop with joy, but we weren’t saved yet. Only a Phantom could harm another Phantom. Or Roarke. But both of us were a bit incapacitated.

  Cass and Nix were no dummies, though. They didn’t try to wage a war they couldn’t win. Instead, Aidan dropped them off at our altars, then flew in a tight circle around us, roaring like a lion on steroids and thrashing his claws. As far as I could tell, he was just trying to scare the Phantoms away, which wasn’t a bad plan. He was pretty freaking scary.

  I called upon my metal magic, praying that the sedative had worn off enough that my magic could flow through. It was weak at first, but it began to surge within me.

  While I worked, Cass used her Mirror Mage powers to mimic the power of those around her and turned herself into a Phantom. She glowed blue and bright, but if she wanted to fight them, she’d need a weapon.

  As if on cue, Nix conjured a sword and tossed it to Cass, who caught it and turned on the attendants.

  “You think you’re going to sacrifice my deirfiúr?” she screamed, lunging toward them.

  I fed my magic into my chains as Nix conjured a massive pair of bolt cutters. I was slow, the sedative still in my system, but it finally melted off me as Nix cut the last of the chains binding Roarke.

  I staggered to my feet, woozy from the potion.

  Aidan was still flying circles, and Cass was swinging her sword like a warrior on speed. I wanted to join her, lunging for the nearest Phantom and stealing his power for my own. Not just for the strength or for vengeance, but to prove that I had some say in my fate. That I was in control.

  But I was too weak from the potion, and Cass’s elegant movement caught my eye. She wasn’t trying to kill anyone. Wounds were limited to legs and arms. Of course. In my drugged stupor, I’d forgotten the most important rule.

  Don’t change history.

  Killing someone would definitely change history.

  I pulled back on my desire to wreak havoc and steal powers.

  “We’re good to go!” Nix cried as she pulled Roarke up.

  He was looking more alert than he had, but he still wasn’t at full strength. They’d loaded him up with the magical equivalent of elephant tranquilizers. I hurried to him.

  Aidan landed next to me, thudding heavily on the ground between the two altars. Cass raced back to us, keeping her sword at the ready.

  “Del, you take Roarke!” Cass cried. “I’ll take Aidan and Nix!”

  The Phantoms began to close in. Didn’t want to lose their sacrifices, the jerks.

  I dug into my pocket, pulling out the black transportation stone that Cass had given me, then grabbed Roarke’s hand. As Cass disappeared with Aidan and Nix, I hurled the stone to the ground. Silver dust poofed up, and I lunged into it, dragging Roarke.

  I envisioned Ancient Magic, my true home, and the ether sucked me toward our shop in a flash. We hadn’t agreed on a place to meet, but whenever I thought of home, this was it.

  When we stumbled out into the shop, I saw Cass, Nix, and Aidan, now in his human form with a broken vase next to him.

  My knees weakened. We’d made it. Roarke stumbled, but managed to stay upright.

  I panted. “Oh fates, you made it just in time.”

  Cass grinned, but it had a slightly sick look to it. She raised a shaky hand to her hair and pushed it through the sleek red strands. “Yeah. That guy had a knife held right over you.”

  It glinted in my memory, turning my stomach. I stumbled over to Cass and Nix, who hugged me tightly. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Anytime.” Nix squeezed me tight.

  “Good thinking with the coordinates,” Cass said. “Though it took us a little while to figure it out.”

  I started shaking, the stress hitting me a bit late. Being chained to a sacrificial altar could really screw a girl up.

  “I’ve got it.” Roarke’s voice slurred from behind me.

  I turned to see him holding up two vials. The cure.

  He’d gotten the cure.

  Then he swayed.

  “Whoa, buddy.” Aidan hurried over, catching him and grabbing the two vials. He wrapped an arm around Roarke’s waist, supporting him
. “What’d they give you?”

  “Some kind of sedative.” My muscles still felt wobbly. “They really dosed him, though. Five times as much as I got.”

  “Because he’s such a big bastard,” Aidan said. “If I wanted to sacrifice him, I’d do the same.”

  “Let’s get you guys to Connor,” Nix said. “Maybe he has something to flush this out of your system.”

  We staggered down to P & P, Nix running ahead to let Connor know that we were coming. I leaned heavily on Cass while Roarke leaned on Aidan. We were definitely steadier on our feet, but still a disaster. By the time we made it to P & P, Nix had pulled a couple chairs a bit closer to the door.

  I collapsed into one next to Roarke and met her gaze. “You’re the best.”

  “And you’re drunk.” She grinned. “Not on liquor, which is too bad, but on whatever was in that potion.”

  “Drunk is right.” She’d hit the nail on the head. That was exactly what this felt like. A serious bender. I just hoped there wasn’t a hangover.

  Though there were a few other patrons bent over a scrabble board, they were uninterested in our antics. In fairness, we did just look like two folks who’d had too good a Tuesday afternoon.

  Connor hurried out of the back, an assortment of vials clutched in his hand. He was wearing another band T-shirt today. The words swam, but eventually I made out the name Technicolor Monkeys.

  “Oh, you guys look rough.” He set his vials on the little table near Roarke and bent to peer into the big guy’s eyes. “Yeah, you’re stoned out of your mind, all right. A couple more doses and you’d be dead.”

  “You know what it is?” I asked.

  Connor nodded and pointed to Roarke’s eyes. “There’s a telltale blue ring there. A side effect of the Rowdensus Potion. It’s pretty ancient —kinda like pot and alcohol mixed together, but in a really strong dose. Enough to make you woozy, weak, and give you double vision.”

  Yep, those were the symptoms.

  “Can you get it out of their system?” Nix demanded.

  “Yep. Though they’ll feel like shit.”

  “A hangover.” I didn’t phrase it as a question.

  “Exactly.”

  “Might as well get to it, then.” I grimaced at the thought. I hated hangovers. It was the reason I filled my coffee mug only half full of wine. Slopping around with a headache and sour stomach was the last way I ever wanted to spend the day.