Senior Witch, Fall Semester

by Ingrid Seymour

  A blast of magic shot past my shoulder as Nyquist blindly cast spells into the thick smoke. Why he wasn’t using the Looper powers to slow down time was beyond me. Maybe he couldn’t since he wasn’t really here.

  Pressing my advantage, I felt my way through a third incantation—Fedorov’s speed spell.

  Frantically, I spoke the words out loud in my butchered Russian, hoping it would work. I needed to be fast. Only God knew what Nyquist had up his sleeve.

  “Bystr kak veter. Menya nikto ne ostanovit,” I said.

  When I moved my hands into my next spell, they were a blur before me. I’d done it.

  “Brace yourself,” I said to Cruise as I laid a hand on his shoulder, though my voice blurred as the words came out in a rush.

  In a sped-up heartbeat, Cruise and I crumpled and reappeared where I guessed Tempest and Kiana had collapsed. Through the quickly-dissipating smoke—Nyquist must have finally gotten over the shock of my shrouded magic and was finally thinking straight—I felt blindly around me, patting the ground in a blur of movement. I touched something with my right hand, then felt frantically with my left, wasting precious milliseconds.

  In the blink of an eye, the remaining smoke blew over, leaving me completely exposed. I froze for an instant, feeling naked. The room revealed itself to be a solid floor with no walls or ceiling. A few feet away was the drop we’d climbed up. Far down below, farther than my eyes could discern, Anama waited.

  Here, in the room, I scanned it all in the blink of an eye. My right hand was on Tempest. Kiana had crashed and fallen at an unexpected angle. No wonder I hadn’t been able to find her.

  Spotting me, Nyquist turned in my direction, his hands resting at his sides. Was he shrouding his magic, too? No time to find out.

  Shaking myself, I cast a levitation spell over my fallen friends, my hands moving so fast they didn’t feel like my own. Eyes darting to one side, I glanced toward the drop from which Cruise and I had climbed up the ladder. I inhaled, gathering my courage.

  “You won’t escape,” Nyquist said with a smirk as he disappeared, his illusion vanishing like a ghost.

  What the hell? Why was he leaving?

  As soon as he disappeared, I got my answer.

  Something crackled behind me. I glanced back. An electrifying spell was traveling in our direction, a web of blue, sizzling light that was moving from the far end of the room toward us like a wave in high tide.

  Panicked, I wove my hands into a push spell. It boomed and propelled my levitating friends toward the drop. Like surfboards skidding along the waves, the three bodies slid forward at a great speed.

  I ran after them, my legs and arms pumping like pistons in a race car. We were going fast. We would make it. It was suicide and homicide combined, but it was the only idea I’d been able to come up with to save everyone. I was going to hurl us all into empty space. But I would worry about cushioning our fall after we made it over the edge.

  I threw a quick glance over my shoulder. The crackling blue wave was inches away.

  I ran faster. The Flash had nothing on me.

  The three levitating bodies made it over the edge and floated in midair. I canceled the levitating spell.

  They fell.

  I jumped after them, my feet pushing off the edge just in time.

  Even as my stomach plummeted, I called to mind the spell that would keep us from breaking into pieces when we reached the ground. My hands began to weave.

  The electricity hit me.

  My body thrashed, pain igniting my every nerve. I seemed to hang in the air, seizing. My mind filled with crackling blue light.

  Pain. Horrible, skin-sizzling pain.

  Then, I went limp and fell.

  Chapter Thirty

  FALL SEMESTER

  LATE OCTOBER

  Air buffeted my face as I fell. I fought to remain conscious against the crackling electricity that coursed through my body and blurred my vision. The world was dim and far away. It barely registered as I strained to stay awake to fight.

  I focused on the pain, the only thing that could shock me out of the stupor that threatened to engulf me.

  My skin tingled.

  My limbs spasmed.

  My fingers wouldn’t move as I tried to cast a spell.

  I tried to feel my magic, use it the way I’d done before, but I couldn’t find the thread of my power. I opened my mouth to scream, to warn Anama below. No sound came out. It all happened in a split second but felt much longer to me, sped up as I was.

  I’m dead. We’re dead.

  I cut through the thick fog we’d passed on our way up. The ground waited below this thick curtain and then death.

  No no no!

  Take it away. Take it away! I wished with all my might for the zapping current running through my body to disappear.

  My cuffs gave a flash.

  I forced my eyelids to stay open and stared at the cuffs. They crackled with a blue current, the same electricity that had hit me, except brighter. The web of energy that covered my arms was sliding down toward the cuffs like a silken sheet gliding over my skin. The same feeling traveled across my entire body, making me shiver.

  In an instant, the cuffs took it all away, sucking the electricity like a battery taking charge.

  The tingling and spasming stopped.

  I’d done it! I had willed my magic into being with my desperate thoughts.

  I broke through the fog. The ground rushed up. I had no time to think of what to do next, but my instincts took over. Thrusting my hands forward, I released a levitation spell.

  Too little, too late.

  We crashed against the ground.

  Pain exploded in my every nerve. My shoulder made a sickening sound. I screamed as white flashes filled my vision.

  Steps. Voices. And never-ending pain.

  A blurred shadow appeared before me, shaking me, clamoring for my attention.

  Something pressed against my chest. Warmth hit me and quickly spread through me. Some of my pain eased, then seemed to flash back and concentrate on my right shoulder. A low keening filled my ears. When I realized it was coming from my own throat, I stopped.

  “Charlie, please, can you hear me? Where does it hurt?”

  I blinked repeatedly. The flashes of white started to fade as I inhaled and fought to focus. Lawson’s face took shape. He looked pale and terrified. Fangs bit into his lower lip, drawing small pinpricks of dark blood.

  “Yes, that’s it. Look at me,” he said, shaking me slightly. “Where do you hurt?”

  His hand was on my chest, releasing warmth, a wellbeing and healing spell combined, the same I’d done for Disha in the stadium.

  He was here. He’d gotten past the spider.

  “My… my shoulder,” I managed through the relief of seeing him at my side.

  I pointed at it with a shaky finger. He put a hand on it and closed his eyes.

  “It’s dislocated,” he said as a strange whirring sound started above us.

  His head snapped upward.

  “We need to get out of here!” Anama’s voice said to my left.

  The whirring multiplied and grew louder.

  “Get up, Charlie!” Rowan forced me to sit up.

  My shoulder screamed in pain, sending agonizing waves across my back, neck, and arm. I clenched my teeth against the desire to curl up into a whimpering ball and, instead, got to my feet with Rowan’s help.

  He practically dragged me away from the wall. Sinasre and Anama had their unconscious mother and were pulling her by the arms while Bridget and Disha levitated Cruise and Tempest away from where we’d fallen.

  We huddled against the opposite wall of the small room as half a dozen mechanical creatures fell through the fog and landed on the area we’d just vacated seconds ago.

  “Oh, God,” Bridget hissed. “What are those things?”

  A chill cut through my pain as I recognized the ostrich-type creature Fedorov and I had seen the first time we’d entered the dre
amscape. That time, the monstrous thing had ignored us.

  This bunch, however, seemed intent on tearing us apart, and we were trapped between four walls.

  They were as terrible as the spider, meant to create a sense of horror in their prey. Their six-foot frames cranked forward, grinding with a sound like nails on a chalkboard. Their eyeless heads roved around, zeroing in on us. Their beaks pointed in our direction, focusing on their quarry.

  They rushed forward, iron feathers as thin and sharp as knives flaring outward.

  “Protect her with your life,” Anama said, leaving her mother with Sinasre and stepping forward. Without her spear, she had nothing but her bare hands to fight with. Still, she looked as fierce as if she had an army of fae warriors at her back.

  Bridget limped forward. She didn’t look her best, but it seemed Disha had patched her up well enough to fight. In the end, we’d all been devoured by the spider, lucky Anama had been on this side to wake the others up.

  Behind Bridget, Cruise blinked his eyes open, awaking in a fresh nightmare. He tried to stand but was unable.

  Determined to fight, I tried to push away from Rowan, but the pain in my shoulder flared to a crippling level. I collapsed back into him.

  “Disha,” he called out. “Charlie’s arm is dislocated.”

  Disha settled Tempest’s limp, levitating form down and rushed to my side as the others closed ranks to shield us. Rowan gave me a reassuring nod and, leaving me with Disha, joined Anama and Bridget.

  “You’re okay,” she said, wrapping an arm around me with relief. “I was so worried.”

  I gave her a weak smile. But then I heard them coming.

  Long, hinged legs clanked as the mechanical creatures advanced in our direction.

  Bridget wove her hands and released a fire spell that engulfed one of the creatures. It whirled, a dervish of metal and flame that I thought would finish it. When the flames died, the ostrich was intact.

  “We have... to fight,” I said to Dish through gritted teeth.

  “Not before I fix this.” Without giving me the benefit of a 1-2-3 countdown, Disha put a hand on my shoulder and released a sudden blast of magic into me.

  In one quick maneuver, my arm was lifted to the side then pull outward in a violent jerk. I screamed and fell to my knees as the socket popped back into place. Disha released another spell and numbness spread down my spine. I went limp, gasping and shaking. She caught me and gently smoothed my hair.

  “Shh, just give it a few seconds,” she said.

  The pain slowly tickled down to nothing. I exhaled in relief though I could hear the sounds of fighting behind us.

  Disha helped me stand. I still felt battered, but nowhere near as bad as I had a few moments ago.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Thank me later,” she answered, turning toward the advancing beasts. They had regrouped after Bridget’s flame spell, and a few others I had missed in my agony and were preparing another attack.

  I joined her side. In unison, we wove our hands and released electric spells. It seemed we’d both concluded the mechanical creatures should short-circuit if hit by electricity.

  They took the blow, staggering on long legs, eyeless heads lashing from side to side and metal wings flapping, but righted themselves. No circuits popped, no birds fell lifeless. Our magic was useless against them.

  A growing sense of unease spread across my chest. Did we have to let these monsters eat us too?

  The ostriches were as fake as the spider and yet… we felt the ground tremble as they marched in synchronicity toward us. We heard their snapping beaks and knew their metal bodies would be vicious when they finally attacked. They’d tear us into bits, not swallow us whole.

  Fear grew back where I had rooted it out. Everyone seemed to realize the same thing. Rowan, Disha, Bridget, and I shot volleys of magic from our hands as we frantically wove and released spells to no avail.

  Anama watched us for a moment, then, seeing that magic was useless, she ran at one of the creatures, trying to tackle its long, segmented legs.

  But before she got there, the creature’s neck swung like a pendulum. It hit her like a bat whacking a ball to left field.

  Sinasre shouted a fae curse as the ostrich’s head sent Anama flying against the wall. She crashed and slid to the ground, but not before two ostriches veered in her direction like wolves intent on devouring a fresh kill.

  Sinasre jumped into action, leaving his mother on the ground and running for his sister. As he tore forward, his hands moved in gestures that were very similar to weaving a spell. I watched in confusion. What was that? Fae couldn’t do magic.

  Except they could, a type of magic that was very much their own.

  As Sinasre’s hands fluttered through the air, his reddish hair grew longer into a mane worthy of Rapunzel. It moved through the air, undulating like a serpent, twined itself around the ostriches’ legs, then jerked them out of balance.

  The two creatures crashed to the ground with a deafening metallic racket. Their heavy chicken bodies toppled. Their legs thrashed. They seemed to be trying to get up but couldn’t.

  “Holy shit,” Disha whispered beside me. “Even his hair is badass.”

  It was strange and wonderful. I watched in fascination as Sinasre’s mane recoiled and went back to normal. He ran to his sister and helped her up. She seemed dazzled but was conscious. He deposited her next to their mother and joined us, his hair undulating to that amazing length again and going for two more of the creatures. Except, the two he’d already knocked out blinked out of existence and four more took their place.

  “Shit!” Rowan said. “They’re multiplying and I’m out of magic.” He shook his hands in frustration. The ring he’d been using to draw power from had gone dry.

  He could draw from me, but what was the use? We were all exhausting ourselves and accomplishing nothing.

  That’s when I glanced around at my friends, noticing their drooping forms and bone-tired expressions, and the fact that the ostriches were merely looking menacing but weren’t actually attacking us.

  “Stop,” I said. “We’re exhausting ourselves.”

  Bridget glanced back at me as if I were crazy. “Better exhausted than dead.”

  “No, Charlie’s right,” Rowan said. “Look around you.”

  Everyone paused.

  “I think they’re just for show,” I said, unable to keep the doubt out of my tone.

  Disha dodged out of the way of one of the ostriches. The creature swung its neck and made some menacing sounds as it whirled to go after her. Disha jogged around and easily got away.

  “They’re just a distraction,” she said, seeing through the ruse.

  “A distraction for what?” Bridget asked.

  “For the real threat,” I whispered, my heart clenching with fear as the realization hit me. “For Nyquist to get here for real.”

  Nyquist thought he could just trick us into being stuck here long enough for his precious Magical Law Enforcement to get here. I had no doubt they were on their way.

  “We have to get out of here,” I said, raising my voice in desperation as I understood what was headed our way.

  “But how do we get out?” Anama said from her crumpled position in the corner next to Kiana. “We tried.”

  “I thought you said you knew how,” Bridget said, taking two steps to the right to avoid one of the bothersome mechanical birds. They flapped their wings and hissed, but did nothing to stop her.

  Anama lowered her head, looking ashamed. It seemed her claims had been boisterous, or simply lies to convince us to help her save her mother.

  We were trapped. This was it.

  “Magic is no good,” Rowan said in a quiet tone. He was staring at the ground, looking thoughtful. “But maybe…” He stared at his hands.

  Black veins suddenly spidered around his eyes. He bared his teeth with a hiss as his fangs fully unsheathed. Then, something I’d never seen before happened. Dark, thick claws
as fierce-looking as an eagle’s grew from his fingertips.

  He glanced wryly in my direction as if he was ashamed of this unexpected physical trait. I shook my head to indicate I didn’t give a damn if he grew horns and a tail. I loved him and nothing would change that.

  He stalked to one of the walls and began attacking it as if he were a mole hyped on Red Bull, like the time we’d been stuck together in the crypt back on Hilton Head Island.

  Chunks of a gelatinous material flew over his head and landed on the ground with a wet thump. They oozed a green liquid that filled the air with a foul smell.

  His attempts seemed hopeless as more and more fleshy chunks landed on the ground, but then, a ray of light broke through one of the holes, highlighting half of his face. He glanced back with a smile.

  Bridget giggled nervously. “It’s working.”

  I smiled back.

  The ostriches hissed and shuffled about nervously.

  “Keep going,” Cruise urged, finally standing on his own two feet.

  Hope flickered in my chest.

  But it died almost as soon as it appeared because, all of a sudden, the ostriches and their whirring faded and was replaced by a soft chuckle that made us turn around.

  Dean Nyquist was behind us, slowly floating down from the fog, a cloak billowing around him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  FALL SEMESTER

  LATE OCTOBER

  We were too late. Nyquist was back, in the flesh this time. And we were trapped like rats in a cage.

  The light in the room intensified as he floated closer. Nyquist burned like a sulfur candle, glowing with Looper power. I wondered, fleetingly, who he’d used this time.

  Gathering together, those of us who were conscious stood in front of those who were not. Quick glances were shared down the line as Bridget, Disha, Rowan, Sinasre, Anama, Cruise, and I formed a line and readied our magic.

  Nyquist stopped fifteen feet away, hovering over the ground like a horrific marionette. His eyes were burning embers and his fingers crackled with green light that surged back and forth between their tips. The way he looked reminded me of Ponomarenko. It seemed they had been sharing tips on how to use the Loopers’ powers.