Enchantress Undercover

by A C Spahn

  I had to lure her away.

  My feet wouldn’t work with the sensory ring overwhelming me. I fought to pry the ring off my finger, but my denim pocket clutched my fingers and made it hard to move. I wrenched my hand free, and in the process the ring slipped off. It rolled away into the leaves and dead brush leftover from last fall.

  At once reality sped back up. The nauseous miasma of sensory information vanished. Sight, hearing, touch all returned to normal, and with them my perception of magic. The drumming still crowded my thoughts, but contrasted with the sickening deluge it had been before, it was bearable.

  Sam’s lightning ring ran low. She launched one last attack at me, a skinny jolt I dodged with ease. She dropped the spent ring and dug into her pocket. I used the opportunity to sprint for the far side of the clearing, away from Desmond and the others.

  “You’re going to hurt yourself, Sam!” I shouted. “Can’t you feel the magic growing? It wants us. It wants you.”

  With a shriek she raised her hand, a new ring of simple metal glinting on her index finger. She charged me. I felt a surge of hope that she was about to come close, where I could use my other magic, but she drew up ten feet away and punched toward me. Ice materialized out of thin air, jagged shards that sped toward me like missiles. Cursing, I ducked behind the closest tree. Sharp icicles thudded into the tree behind me and whistled past on either side.

  All the while the magical pressure grew.

  I needed more weapons, more defenses. I scooped a handful of leaves from the ground, then seized a knot on the tree with my other hand. Then I drew in some of the storm.

  So much magic flowed that I had what I needed in seconds. More tried to shove its way through, to drown me in the flood. I forced it away, fighting to keep out what I didn’t want. It was like trying to hold a door cracked open against a hurricane. The magic drummed inside me, raw and strong, and I sent it into the tree knot. Be firm as wood. Form a solid shield. Stand fast, and block my enemy’s blows.

  Then I gritted my teeth, and channeled the magic through myself into the leaves.

  Serving as a channel was like lying on a hot bed of nails. Magic stabbed the inside of my flesh, trying to carve a way out. Heat burned inside, bringing a flush to every inch of my skin. My mouth dried to dust. My eyes stung. But in seconds the magic had flowed through, and I had a brand-new shield enchantment on my handful of leaves. My head ached, the fatigue from my earlier enchanting returning as if it had never left.

  Panting to cool the lingering heat inside, I spun away from the tree and found myself facing Sam. She sprang back, out of my reach, and raised her ring. Icicles shot toward my head. I threw one of my leaves forward, calling upon its magic. As the ice spears passed by the leaf, they suddenly slowed and fell, as if they’d struck something solid. A few made it through and nipped my arms and cheeks, but they were small enough not to be lethal.

  Sam’s eyes widened, then clouded with anger. She threw more ice. I threw another leaf shield. I stepped back, luring her deeper into the trees. “You’re outmatched, Sam,” I called. “I have more experience.”

  With a growl she stripped the ice ring off and knelt to swirl her hand in the dirt, boring a small hole. Her other hand buried itself in her own handful of leaves. I had only a second to prepare before the ground gave way beneath me, threatening to bury me alive. A line of leaves smoked between us, and a few sparks flickered to life.

  My legs were buried now, and I continued to sink. I slammed my hand against the closest smoking leaf and drew in magic from the air. The ache in my head became a throb. I grabbed the closest thing by my free hand—a stick—focused an enchantment on it, and channeled the magic back through the leaves Sam was using to attack me, targeting nothing in particular. Be sticky as a stick, I thought. The words didn’t matter. The point was for the magic to fail.

  Flame burst from the dry detritus, the leaves overwhelmed by the magic channeling through them. Both enchantments went up in smoke. My “be a stick” magic recoiled back at me, drumming inside my skin. Sam cried out as the rest of the dissipated magic funneled back into her.

  Quickly I buried my hand in the dirt around my legs, raising my other hand into the air. Ignoring the throb in my skull, I let in more magic and chanted, Be free as air. Be loose and yielding. Do not hold or trap.

  Heat filled me once more as I channeled the magic through myself. The dirt loosened around my legs, feeling as if it melted. When I opened my eyes I was still buried, but when I braced against the edge of the hole and boosted myself free, the dirt fell away like air. White spots danced before my eyes. I felt like I’d run a marathon, but I was free.

  Sam was redirecting her own magic. A column of fire plumed before her, the flames separated into a cage-like lattice. Behind the smoke and orange light, Sam bit her lip, eyes focused. Sweat glinted on her brow. She shouted, “Trap her!” and thrust her hands forward. The flame cage shot toward me, curving at the edges, ready to enclose me in a burning prison.

  I grabbed the closest rock and jabbed my fingers into the loose dirt, to where the soil held some moisture. Soak all around you, I chanted. Become a water source.

  As the flames closed around me, liquid burst from the stone. A fountain sprayed in all directions, quenching the fire except for a few embers lingering at my feet.

  Pain echoed throughout my body, each enchantment taxing me more and more. My knees shook, and I focused on the ground to keep my balance. A ring of burned leaves surrounded me, quenched by my water enchantment. Sam had magically coaxed the leaf fire I’d started to an inferno, then layered another enchantment atop the flames to turn it into a cage. Complex magic, and draining to perform. She’d made a mistake, wasting her energy like that.

  Or so I thought. Smoke and water vapor cleared, giving me a glimpse of Sam. She stood across from me, steady on her feet, hands up and ready for more. My mouth opened in shock. Not only was she still upright, she didn’t even look fatigued. She had to be channeling the magic through herself, like I was, but she was handling it far better.

  She was a stronger enchantress than me, in my already fatigued state. Possibly stronger even when I was at my best.

  Knowledge hit me with a deadly certainty. I couldn’t beat her. Not now, not with a limitless supply of raw power available to her. I needed backup. Our fight had taken us deep into the woods, away from the clearing. Even if Desmond had managed to get up by now, he’d need help to find us in the dark.

  I raised my voice, infusing it with false bravado. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Using yourself as a channel?”

  Sam spat a curse. “I’m used to pain.” From her pocket she pulled a thick metal pen and threw it at me.

  I jumped back just before the pen’s enchantment activated. It burst into a spray of sharp metal, pieces flying in all directions like bullets. I crossed my arms to protect my face, but several shredded my shirt and cut jagged holes in my jeans. One flew straight into my calf, and I screamed in pain. My leg buckled, sending me to one knee. When I lowered my arms, Sam too bled from half a dozen small wounds. Seeing me down, she charged forward, fists ready to tackle me and pound me into the ground.

  I quickly tapped the magic on my bracelet and conjured my dagger. Mist coalesced into the razor-sharp blade, the hilt cool and solid in my hand.

  Sam pulled up short. She didn’t lower her fists, but her head jerked as if avoiding a fly. The magic, I guessed, drumming on her as it drummed on me. Wincing, I pushed myself back to my feet, keeping the dagger out like a ward. “You’re not the only one who knows pain,” I hissed. “I can keep this up as long as you can, and I’m better at it. Give up.”

  “And let you hand me over to the Voids? No. If they’re going to take me out, I’ll go out fighting.”

  “You think you’re so tough? You think you’re a warrior?” Please, Desmond, hurry up. I don’t know how long I can keep bluffing.

  KADUMKADUMKADUMKADUM!

  “I have to be tough!” Sam’s voice rose to an enraged shout. “Y
ou don’t know what it’s been like. The magic never stops. It’s always there, always hitting me, on and on and on. I thought I could take a hit, but this ...” Her hands clenched into fists, over and over, working into a frenzy. “There’s too much!” she shrieked, and flung her hand out toward me.

  Smoky red fire burst from her palm and billowed toward me. I gasped, releasing my conjured dagger. With no time to counter the enchantment, I dove for the closest tree. Flames licked my ankles, igniting my jeans. I beat out the embers, biting my tongue to keep from screaming as heat seared my skin. Pretend it’s a glue gun burn, I thought. This is nothing. This is nothing.

  KADUM! KADUM! KADUM!

  That’s something, though. Despite all our use of it, the magic continued to grow, as if the local magic flowed through us like a drain. My head throbbed, not just from the magic but from exhaustion. I didn’t think I could channel much more magic at all, much less through myself. Not the powerful, raw magic swirling in the air, anyway.

  My hand brushed my chest, tracing a curving line. I did have another weapon, magic that knew me, would obey me easily if I called upon it. If it was the only way to stop Sam, was I willing to make that sacrifice? She showed no remorse. She was relentless. Someone had to stop her. Someone had to make her pay.

  I would not let this enchantress hurt my friends and defile the art I loved. Swallowing hard, I forced myself back to my feet. My legs shook, and I limped around the tree to come back in sight of Sam.

  Her fire enchantment ran out, the last few sparks flickering from her fingers and winking out to cinders. She drew in a sharp breath. Then another, panting. Her shoulders sagged, a moment of weakness I doubted she’d have let me see if she knew I was watching. Still panting, she wiped her eyes. Moisture glistened in them. Abruptly she cursed and straightened up, adjusting herself into a posture of strength.

  Instantly I saw myself years ago. Teenaged, full of powers I didn’t fully understand. Unloved by the family that should have shielded me. Unable to tell others what I was. Faking courage, faking fortitude. Acting like nothing bothered me, even when memories woke me crying in the night.

  Afraid. Most of all, I had been afraid.

  My hand jerked away from my tattoo. I couldn’t kill Sam. Not unless there was no other way. Her fear was controlling her. It wasn’t her magic I had to fight, it was those whispers of terror, those midnight voices telling her to trust no one, to run and hide, and when trapped, to fight.

  “You’re tiring, Sam,” I called.

  She spun and sent another gust of fire at me, igniting the leaves at my feet. A dark line flashed on her palm, forming a circular pattern before fading away. “Screw you. I’m fine.”

  I backed away from the embers. Smoke drifted up from spot flames that could easily grow into wildfire. “You’re enchanting yourself, Sam. Fleshwriting. Using yourself as focus, channel, and target. That’s not safe. Those people you drove insane? That’s what did it.”

  Another dark line etched itself in her flesh. Another burst of fire shot from her palm. Again the dark line vanished, its magic used up. Sam’s lips curled, and she hissed through clenched teeth.

  “Sam, I’m serious! You know what happens to channels that overload with magic?”

  “They burn.”

  “So what do you think that heat inside you means?”

  Doubt flickered in her eyes, but then hardened. “You know what I thought when you enchanted my drawing? I saw the dress moving, and I thought, ‘Magic can be beautiful. I didn’t know that.’”

  My heart ached. “It is beautiful, Sam. If you use it right.”

  “It’s not!” She flung her hands wide. “Can’t you feel it? Feel the anger in it? I tried to copy what you did, tried to make my drawings move, and the magic wouldn’t listen! It’s all a muddle. It wants too many things, and I can’t stay ahead of it!”

  I frowned. The magic drummed, unrelenting, but it wasn’t angry, and it didn’t want anything, not yet. It was raw, untapped. Eager, perhaps, aggressive, but not inclined toward specifics.

  Sam’s hands trembled. Traces of fire flickered on her fingertips. I sucked in a breath. “It’s not the magic. It’s you.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” She grabbed a sharp rock from between her feet and closed her eyes, prepping another enchantment.

  “Listen to me, Samantha! You’re using a lot of power, but you’re not doing it efficiently. Every time you enchant something, some of the spell is bleeding off and coming back at you. It’s all collecting around you, in you. That’s why you feel like it’s demanding too many things. The more you use, the worse it gets. You have to stop!”

  “I can’t stop! If I stop, it’ll kill me.”

  “Let me help you, Sam. We can dispel the magic, together.”

  “I can’t trust you. You want to hand me over to the Voids.”

  A shadow stirred between the trees behind Sam. Desmond stepped silently into view. Moonlight gleamed on his bare sword. He met my eyes, took in my injuries and fatigue. His gaze slid to Sam, and his face grew grim. Slowly he approached, quiet as a shadow.

  Fear gripped my chest. “Sam, please! Trust me!”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  “You can’t know!” Sam opened her eyes and glared at me. “You know what my dad said when I told him I thought I was in trouble? He said ‘good riddance.’ You know why I’m so good at handling pain? You know what it’s like to have no one to go to, no one who can understand?”

  “I do know. I know exactly what that’s like.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I tugged my shirt aside, baring my collarbone and an edge of my tattoo.

  Sam froze.

  “See this tattoo?” I said. “See its size? My family did that to me—the people who raised me. They meant to sacrifice me, to use this magic and my life force with it. My parents were part of it. I haven’t seen them since I was younger than you, when I ran away to keep myself alive.”

  Desmond stepped closer. He’d closed half the distance between them.

  I pointed at the tattoo with my free hand. “You’ve channeled enough magic. I think you know what kind of pain this brought with it.”

  Desmond took another step.

  Words rushed out of me. “You have to listen to me, Sam. The Voids want to kill you, and the magic wants to kill you, and your family may very well want to kill you, but I can help. I can help you get rid of the magic, teach you to keep ahead of it. I can save you, Sam. You just have to let me.”

  A lump worked its way down her throat. “How can I trust you?” she whispered.

  Desmond stood a few feet behind her. He raised his sword.

  The moment you start to trust is the easiest moment to get hurt.

  I raised my voice and looked past Sam. “Back off, Desmond.”

  Sam jumped. She whirled and backpedaled, out of range of Desmond’s blade. Desmond froze, staring at me with his face a mask of questions. Sam braced to throw the sharp rock at his head.

  “Leave him alone, Sam! You’ve hurt enough people.”

  “He was gonna kill me!”

  “I could have let him. You asked how you can trust me. Well, I’m showing you right now.” I held out a hand. My arm shook. Magic drummed within my bones, punctuating every breath. “This is your one chance, Sam. If you don’t let me help you, you’re going to die. It’s a tossup whether the Voids or the magic will get you first.”

  Her lip trembled. More tears formed. “There’s too much. Too much magic. It’s always there.”

  “Yes. It’ll always be there. You’ll wake up in the night with pressure trying to drive you insane. You’ll hide in restaurant bathrooms and pull off to the side of the road because you have to channel the magic. It will always be there, waiting to hurt you. But you can learn to live with it. You can build a life around it. You don’t have to let it win.”

  Sam cast a wary look at Desmond. He made no move toward her, thoug
h he didn’t lower his sword. She scooted a step toward me. Then another.

  Then she broke and ran toward me, leaping the embers kindling flames in the dry brush. Her palm slapped onto my open hand.

  KADUMkadumKadumKadumkadumKADUM!

  Chaos. Confusion. Anxiety. Magic burst from Sam into me like I was a pressure valve. My already weak legs buckled. I fell to the dirt, dragging her down with me. Pain exploded in my head and beneath my skin as the magic fought to get free through my already-drained body.

  “Adrienne? Adrienne?” Sam’s voice came from far away, thin and quivering. Her hand in mine was my only grounding for where she was.

  I raised our joined hands to the starlit sky. My other hand fumbled for Sam’s cheek, found the droplets clinging by her eyes. “Rain,” I chanted, aloud. “Let water fall from the sky. Become a storm, a deluge on this land.”

  The magic swirled through my hand, focused on Sam. It absorbed the tempest within her, the emotional turmoil inside. It absorbed the release represented by her drying tears. It became her, an embodiment of her essence.

  I prayed the next step wouldn’t kill me, then channeled all of that magic through myself, targeting the sky.

  Agony surged through me, filling me instantly from my hair to the soles of my feet. Distantly I heard myself screeching, felt my body buck against the throes of torture. I hadn’t felt this since the day I got my tattoo, the day my world shattered. It felt like the magic would never end, an eternal stream gathering around Sam and me, focused on Sam through my hand, then channeled through my body back into the air. Wave after wave of pain gripped me, and I felt my fingertips slipping from Sam’s skin.

  Then Sam’s grip tightened. Her arm stiffened, keeping our joined hands in the air. She clutched my palm against her face, holding it in place, keeping the magical circuit alive. Her balance wavered, but then strong arms wrapped around us both, and I inhaled Desmond’s earthy scent. They held me—we held each other—until the last vestiges of magic burst out of our joined hands and streamed to the sky.