Magic Currents (Cursed Angel Collection)

by Jayne Faith

  “I’m going to try,” I whispered. “You might want to move back.”

  I closed my eyes and imagined standing on the edge of the cliff overlooking the estuary. It was the place where I’d used my magic the most, and I thought it would help me now to mentally take myself back there. In my imagination, I felt the crumbling rock beneath the soles of my boots. The salty ocean breeze tossing my hair. The volumes of water down below.

  Opening myself to magic, I let power flood in. My entire body went rigid, my jaw clenching, as if I’d touched a live wire. It was taking over, controlling me instead of the other way around. The last time I’d felt magic trying to take over, I’d been a young girl. My magic had come in with a rush like this, and I’d had several seconds of sheer terror as I tried to hold on while the warlock put my charm in place. My mother had held my hand as I struggled to keep it reined in.

  But now there was no warlock to stem the tide. There was no mother to soothe me.

  I tried to pull it back, but instead the power swelled. Pressure was building inside my body, like I was a balloon about to pop. My eardrums itched. My eyeballs throbbed. My lungs ached. My pulse raced with panic.

  No, no, no. I couldn’t lose it. There were too many people to save.

  “Mother.” It took me a second to realize the word was spoken in my own voice.

  I remembered the touch of her hand. Her voice as she spoke to me, telling me to be calm. To be brave. Telling me I just had to hang on for a second more.

  The tide of power began to recede to a manageable level. With it the pain faded, and again I became aware of the water around me. It began to coalesce, as if drawn to my magic. The air thickened with moisture, as if I sat under cover while a torrential downpour tore through The Colony. But there was no sound of rain. The water was coming to me.

  I was both relaxed and strung tight as a violin string as I strained to control the magic rushing through and around me like a silent tornado. I caught just enough of it and pulled it to me, into my influence. Condensation collected on my bare skin and began to drip to the floor and soak into my clothing. I was only barely aware of it as I focused on the metal encircling my wrists. Magic and water mingled, one dissolving into the other like salt into water, and as I’d commanded the water at the estuary, I sent it now to surround my hands.

  It was too much, more than I needed, but I couldn’t stop now. I coughed, trying to clear the water from my lungs as it grew even thicker in the air of the room.

  “Hurry, Vicki, someone’s out there, and I think they hear us,” Amy whispered urgently, sounding choked.

  I drew more magic, more water, and forced them against the metal that held me. I imagined tiny scratches and cracks in the shackles, imperfections where the water and magic could creep in, forcing into the flaws and corroding them.

  “Hurry!”

  I flexed my shoulders, trying to break the shackles. I sensed a large flaw in the right one, and focused my effort there.

  “Help me,” I said, my teeth gritted. “Try to pull the right cuff apart.”

  It was a crazy request, but to her credit Amy didn’t hesitate. She moved behind me and I could feel her muscles shaking as she tried to use her strength to assist my magic.

  In my mind, millennia passed with the water working away at the flaw in the metal, as if I had the power to speed up time.

  Suddenly the room filled with painfully bright light. I heard voices and footfalls, but I was absorbed in breaking the shackle. Someone yanked me to my feet. At the same time, the right cuff cracked like ice, and my right hand pulled free. I twisted out of the Hunter’s grip, pushing water and magic at him to give me an extra moment as I dug for my pouch. Moisture splashed in his eyes, and he yelped and tried to wipe it away.

  A stocky, blond Hunter came for Amy. She dodged him once, but then he caught her by the hair.

  With the shackles still dangling from my left hand, my fingers found one of the glass ampules. I snapped off the top and flung it at the Hunter, chanting the words of the spell that would break the Demon Lord’s hold on the Hunter. I wasn’t practiced enough to command water at the same time, but I finished the chant and then bolted forward after the blond Hunter who was trying to drag Amy to the doorway.

  I caught up to them and sprinkled another ampule on Amy’s captor, quickly reciting the magical words to complete the spell-breaking. Both Hunters had fallen to the ground. Amy slammed the door shut. The lock was broken now from the two men busting in, but by some miracle no other Hunters had appeared.

  Amy and I were panting as if we’d just raced each other around the block. We stared at each other over the blond Hunter, who was still writhing on the floor. Both of the men were groaning.

  “What’s happening to them?” she asked, her eyes huge.

  I shook my head. “No idea. But it should be over soon.” I hoped so, anyway. We needed the men on our side before anyone else arrived.

  My mind whirled. Once the Hunters were clearheaded, I had tasks for them.

  “Where are we?” I asked Amy.

  “Residential floor, I think about five levels up from the ground?” She shook her head ruefully. “I haven’t been here long enough to know my way around very well.”

  I still couldn’t believe she’d found me. I had about a million questions about the Watchtower and where to find the Demon Lord, but the men would be better equipped to answer them.

  My breathing had settled a little, though my pulse still sped.

  I eyed the men, who seemed to be starting to recover. They were looking around as if they were just waking up from a hard sleep. One of them blinked at me, and then squinted.

  “Victoria?” he said.

  My breath died in my throat. I hadn’t recognized him before, because it had been so many years and he’d been so young when the Watchtower took him.

  It was Dane, the younger brother of my Armand.

  Chapter 21

  I RUSHED TO Dane’s side. He was holding his head and wincing, but it was him—he was fully himself. I looked into the grey-blue eyes that were identical to Armand’s. How many times had I imagined those eyes since my betrothed had been taken?

  “Yes, it’s me,” I finally whispered.

  A look of horror overtook his face. “No.”

  “I let them take me,” I said hurriedly. “I’m here to break the curse of the Watchtower, but I need your help.” I glanced at the other Hunter. “His, too, if he’s trustworthy.”

  “Someone’s coming!” Amy hissed from the door. She’d gone to press her ear against it, listening.

  “We need the two of you to act as if you’re still under the Watchtower’s control,” I said. “Pretend you caught us doing, I don’t know, something that means we need to be moved.”

  As I spoke, we all jumped into action. I shoved my hands behind my back, holding on to my shackles as if they were still connected. The men stood, ran their hands through their hair, and straightened their clothes.

  “You,” I said to the Hunter who wasn’t Dane. “Take Amy. Get her out of here as quick as you can. The two of you need to free all the women from the House of Light. Then you need to find Eduardo and tell him I’m in the Watchtower. Tell him to get Lorenzo as fast as he can.”

  “We can’t just let all the women out of the House of Light,” the Hunter said.

  I didn’t have the patience or the time to persuade him. Someone was already beating on the door.

  “Figure it out,” I said vehemently. “Or better yet, let Amy. She’ll find a way. She’s amazing.”

  As the door crashed in, I shot my best friend a look that I hoped conveyed my gratitude and love for her. She was probably the bravest person I knew, besides my mother. The Hunter pulled Amy’s wrists together behind her back and quickly snapped his shackles around them.

  Hunters stormed toward us, but to their credit Dane and the other man played their roles convincingly. They pushed us out into the hallway, where Amy went one way with Dane’s partner, and Dan
e and I went the other.

  “You never said where you need me to take you,” Dane whispered once the other Hunters were out of earshot.

  I hesitated. I knew at some point I needed to get to the Demon Lord and shoot him with one of my little poison-tipped arrows. But only Lorenzo knew what was supposed to come after that.

  “The man Eduardo is going to get, Lorenzo,” I whispered. “He’s an angel, the agent of God, and the only one who knows exactly how to break the curse. I have the means to kill the Demon Lord, but that’s not enough. There are other steps. But, Dane, there’s something else.”

  I slowed and looked over my shoulder at Armand’s brother. He’d been marching me through the corridor, walking behind me with one hand on my not-shackled wrists and the other clamped over one of my shoulders as was the habit of the Hunters. For what seemed like the hundredth time, I silently cursed Lorenzo. If he’d just gone along with my desire to save the witches and Hunters, or at the very least trusted me enough to tell me exactly how to break the curse, this all would have been so much simpler.

  “We have to get all the Hunters out,” I said. “If we don’t, they’ll all be killed when the curse is broken.” I looked into Dane’s face and swallowed hard. “And I need to know. Is Armand. . .?”

  I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. Asking if Armand was still alive felt too hopeful. But I couldn’t utter the word “dead” after Armand’s name. I held my breath as I waited for Dane to answer.

  “I don’t know,” Dane said. “He and I were assigned to different regiments. I think he ended up serving the Demon Lord directly, but I haven’t seen him in many months.” He shook his head, and sorrow filled his storm-colored eyes.

  I began breathing again. There was a chance Armand was alive, but being a personal servant to the Demon Lord meant he might have been offered the ultimate gift of the demon: witches’ hearts to extend longevity. I wasn’t sure I could feel the same about Armand if he’d taken part in the bloody gluttony, even though I knew he wouldn’t have done it except under the influence of the Demon Lord. I pushed those thoughts from my mind to focus on the challenges at hand.

  Three Hunters were coming toward us, their hard eyes lingering on me as they passed. One of them started to reach for me.

  “Back off. She’s mine,” Dane growled in a voice I didn’t recognize.

  I waited until they were far behind us before whispering to Dane. “Is there someplace you can leave me until Lorenzo gets in here?” I asked. “A cell, or other safe place? Then you could go look for him and make sure he finds me.”

  “Without the warlock charm, you’re broadcasting magic like a blaring horn,” he said. “Every Hunter in the Watchtower can sense you right now. Even if you hide, they’re going to know exactly where you are. They’re each thinking the same thing. Every one of them wants to be the one to present you to the Demon Lord.”

  I cursed under my breath.

  “I wonder what happened to the two dunderheads who brought me in here,” I said. “They were fighting about that very thing.”

  “Other Hunters probably overpowered them, or even just found you unguarded, and then tried to hide you in that bunk room.”

  “Thank God Amy found me.” I bit my lip for a moment. “Isn’t there anywhere you can put me where I’m safe from the other Hunters? You could lock me up if you have to.”

  More Hunters were bearing down on us, and they looked at me like I was a roast fresh out of the oven and they hadn’t eaten in a week. Dane abruptly angled us to the right, down a different hallway, but we nearly crashed into a large regiment, at least ten men.

  Dane swore quietly as he faced off with them. The men circled us, penning us in. I didn’t have enough remedy to break all of their spells, and that would only be a temporary solution anyway. There were hundreds of Hunters, and apparently all of them were sniffing me out.

  “We’re taking the witch.” The biggest man, a burly redhead with long sideburns, swiped a paw out at me.

  I was barely quick enough, leaning back to duck out of his reach.

  “Touch me and I’ll burn you with my magic!” I bellowed.

  I drew power and tried to look menacing. I didn’t know how to use my magic to generate heat, but the Hunters didn’t know that.

  “The Demon Lord has summoned this witch,” Dane said. “I was personally sent to get her. Let us through or risk the Lord’s wrath.”

  The Hunters stepped back, some of them grumbling irritably.

  “We’ll accompany you to the Lord’s lair, then,” said the big guy with the sideburns. He gave us a wide, humorless grin that was pure menace.

  I glanced at Dane. His jaw muscles were working, just the way Armand’s always did when he was fighting to hang on to calm.

  “Keep your distance,” he finally barked, and we pushed through the crowd of men. To me, he whispered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to do. They would have taken you and then fought over who would escort you to the Demon Lord. I’ll try to think of something before we get to the lair.”

  My heart sank. I knew Dane was trying to keep a bad situation from getting worse, but going to the Demon Lord now was not what I had in mind.

  I sensed that Dane was taking a circuitous route, trying to stall as the horde of men tromped along behind us. I glanced back once to find that the crowd had doubled.

  “Water,” I mumbled at Dane.

  “What?”

  “Is there water nearby? My magic works with water.”

  “Only the sea itself, right below us.”

  I sensed the water out there, but this was different than pulling moisture from the air, and I didn’t know how to command it without at least being able to see it like I did when I stood on the cliff overlooking the estuary. I licked my dry lips. “Take me to a window that overlooks the ocean.”

  Dane sped up. The hallways of the Watchtower felt like a prison. It was all dark stone, occasional torches that were somehow more menacing than illuminating, heavy doors, and clomping boots of Hunters. It felt like the castle of an evil fairy tale queen.

  But I could feel the water out there, the vast, unending volume of it, the dancing movement of the currents. My mind spun. What should I do? Raise a giant stream of it, up and into the Watchtower, to force the Hunters back? We were close. I could see the window up ahead and the patch of blue sky it revealed, and I could sense the water below. Another fifty feet.

  “Halt!” A deep, commanding voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

  Dane froze at the sound of it.

  The Hunters crowding the hallway behind us went silent and still.

  I turned. A shaved head towered above the Hunters, making its way toward us, and I realized the men were literally frozen, as if captured in a photograph. I knew the bald man immediately, even before seeing the flash of his eyes. It was the Sorcerer. The Demon Lord’s right hand, and the one responsible for controlling the Hunters.

  Only the Sorcerer and I could move, and the Hunters formed a sort of thick forest of bodies rooted to the floor and frozen in various stances. The Sorcerer stepped out from the throng of Hunters and faced me. Six and a half feet tall, dressed in gray robes, which along with his hairless head made him look monkish. But this was no monk. He was at least as dangerous as the Demon Lord.

  He regarded me silently for a few seconds. I swallowed hard.

  “Curiosity got the best of me. I had to see the powerful witch for myself before the Demon Lord cracked your chest open like a soft-boiled egg,” he said finally. He tilted his head slightly. “Pretty, but otherwise you don’t seem much to me.”

  His tone was mild, and he seemed unhurried, but there was something behind his eyes that awakened primal fear in my mind. Adrenaline spiked through me.

  With my hands behind my back, but only for the sake of appearance, I touched the little crossbow. The arrows were tipped in venom. Surely if it would kill the Demon Lord, it would kill the Sorcerer, too. Lorenzo had never said anything ab
out the Sorcerer, but if I could rid The Colony of the Demon Lord’s advisor in the course of breaking the curse, to me that seemed a happy bonus. After all, the Sorcerer was the one who really pulled the strings in the Watchtower. But I didn’t trust my aim at this distance.

  “Perhaps you should come closer for a better look,” I said. My voice only trembled a little.

  “Perhaps I will.” His eyes gleamed.

  He took two steps, moving deliberately. When I caught the darkness in the Sorcerer’s eyes, my heart slammed against my ribs. I knew without a doubt what he wanted: my heart. He’d probably never been in the presence of an uncharmed witch, and my power seemed to be drawing him like a vulture to carrion.

  But I wasn’t dead yet, and I wasn’t going to let him take me. I whipped out my arm, took aim, and loosed the little arrow from my wrist. It sprang into the air with a faint ping. I’d aimed for the center of the Sorcerer’s chest, going for the largest target. But the poisoned needle flew wide and stuck into the arm of a Hunter just to the left of the Sorcerer.

  The man went stiff and began to shake. The Sorcerer half turned to stare, and when his eyes went to the little arrow, I sprang into action. I spun around, snatched a metal torch from the wall, and ran for all I was worth toward the window. I slid to a halt, squeezed my eyes closed, and slammed the base of the torch against the glass. It shattered noisily, and I used the torch to quickly knock away the largest shards.

  As I climbed up to the window sill, I could hear the Sorcerer’s thundering voice behind me. I reached for magic and sent it down into the sea.

  And then I jumped.

  Chapter 22

  A HUGE COLUMN of seawater rushed up to meet me, and I plunged down into it. My clothes and shoes saturated, weighing me down, and I struggled to kick up to the surface. Using my magic to control the water, I lowered the column to sea level and my head finally broke the surface. Not used to being in the ocean with the constriction of clothing, I was tempted to take it all off. But I couldn’t lose the pouch.