Trinkets, Treasures, and Other Bloody Magic

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  I scrambled to my feet as Kett released Scarlett and she was completely pulled through the wall. “Mom! Mom!”

  I pushed by the two monsters blocking my path, even though I shouldn’t have been able to move them an inch.

  “It’s all right, my Jade.” Even muffled by the spelled rock wall between us, Scarlett’s voice was pained.

  I started slashing at the magical barrier between Scarlett and me. She’d taken her ball of light with her, so I couldn’t see much except for the glimmer of the ward blocking my way. That was enough.

  “Sugar, it’s all right,” Scarlett said again.

  I realized I’d been repeating, “Mom, Mom, Mom,” over and over again.

  “Same as Kandy on this side,” Scarlett reported, her voice stronger than before. “I can feel a breeze. I must be near some sort of an exit.”

  “We have no idea how far we’re above the ocean here,” I cried. “Climbing the side of a cliff for Kandy is nothing —”

  “Jade Godfrey,” Scarlett snapped. “You will not underestimate your mother. I have stabilized my arm and numbed the pain. A few more healing spells, well-spaced, will heal the break.”

  I turned on Kett. His magic illuminated his pale skin, making him easy to identify in the dark. “You!” I hissed. “What were you thinking?”

  “That the spell couldn’t be that strong.”

  “Well, it was!”

  “Yes.”

  Yes? What sort of answer was that? “You broke her arm!”

  “You slashed an unknown spell with your knife.”

  “Desmond was caught in it. And it wasn’t unknown.”

  “That’s enough children,” Desmond said, his voice warped through stretched vocal cords and fanged teeth. The magic in the tunnel shifted, flooding my taste buds with much-needed deep, dark chocolate as Desmond once again adopted his human skin. His human skin, which would be clothed only in tattered jeans and a stretched-out T-shirt now — but I couldn’t see anything but magic in the dark. There were no silver linings to be had today.

  “Scion,” Desmond called through the barrier. “We will continue onward.”

  “Yes. Blackwell is obviously avoiding hurting us —”

  “Too bad the vampire didn’t get the memo,” I muttered under my breath. Both Kett and Desmond with their super-hearing could still hear me, of course, but they ignored me.

  “I’ll backtrack if I can,” Scarlett continued. “Perhaps find Kandy. Be careful, my Jade.” My mother’s voice receded as if she was walking away.

  The compulsion spell in the gold sphere pulsed up my arm more painfully than before as I continued to ignore it. I turned on the white blob that was Kett. “You broke my mother’s arm, vampire. I won’t forget it.” Yes, I was being completely irrational, but somehow — to me — this was utterly justifiable. He should know his own strength. He should have been able to judge the power of the spell before it snapped Scarlett’s arm.

  Kett nodded almost imperceptibly in the dark, but I felt his magic shift subtly.

  “Keep moving,” Desmond said. “The tunnel widens up ahead.”

  I moved. I didn’t want to, but I did.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The tunnel literally spat us out onto a ten-foot-wide ledge that led nowhere except down. As in, a fifty-foot drop into another cavern. No seagulls in this one. Just two identical fifteen-foot-wide pentagrams side by side, and a portal.

  A dozen or so impressive light spells hovered twenty feet above our heads. Blackwell and Sienna, as well as the gagged and bound Mory and Jeremy, stood in one of the pentagrams with what looked sickeningly like a rune-carved stone altar. The second pentagram was empty, but the magic along its edges was active.

  The portal, on the cave wall behind the altar group, wasn’t dormant like the one in the bakery basement. Not that it was open, or even obvious to anyone who couldn’t feel magic. But it was wide awake and waiting to be of service.

  The gold sphere went inert in my hand. I shoved it into the pocket of my hoodie, glad I’d thought to grab one. Extra pockets seemed to come in very handy these days. The hoodie was massive on me, of course, but comforting.

  “Hello, sister,” Sienna called. I couldn’t feel a drop of magic from any of the four in the pentagram. That wasn’t good.

  “So pleased you could join us,” Blackwell said. “Though I was hoping you’d have fewer companions. I gather I misjudged your magical sensitivity. Again. No matter.”

  Jeremy’s eyes were glowing bright green, but he hadn’t transformed. So I could see magic through the barrier that encased the pentagram, but not feel or taste it. I wasn’t sure the young werewolf was even capable of a partial transformation like Desmond was. His clothing was rumpled and dirty, but from this vantage point, he looked unharmed. Mory clutched at her necklace, obviously utterly frightened but also unharmed. Their bindings looked like plain rope, but were probably spelled by the way they glistened.

  “Geez, could you be more crazy-dramatic, Sienna?” I asked, finally finding my voice. An awful lot of déjà vu was pinging through my head. No silver chains or half-dead werewolf though … yet. “You could have just called.”

  “I told you, my name is Valencia.” Sienna snarled. And with no more warning than that, she hit Mory and Jeremy with her pain spell.

  I couldn’t feel or taste it, but I saw the spell hit. Mory shuddered but seemed to shake it off. Score one for Jade — the fledgling’s necklace held against Sienna’s magic. However, the fireblood spell hit Jeremy full force. Just like I had been, he was completely unable to scream or move, other than arching up on the balls of his feet with his fingers rigidly splayed.

  Desmond lost it. He flung himself off the ledge as if it was a four-foot drop, not fifty. By the time he hit the floor, he was McGrowly once again. Though this incarnation of his beast-man seemed to lope on all fours rather than walk on two. He gouged claw marks in the stone of the cavern floor as if it was crusty frosting.

  “No, Desmond,” I screamed.

  He didn’t listen. He covered forty feet in two more bounding leaps. And hit the pentagram full force. Head, claws, and teeth first.

  The pentagram wasn’t sealed from without — not with Blackwell and Sienna standing in it, not with me unable to taste any magic. It was sealed within, like a witches’ protection circle — probably in blood.

  It was a testament to Desmond’s strength and magical prowess that when he hit the edge of the pentagram, he actually cracked it. Probably with his stupid, meaty head.

  Blackwell’s eyes rolled up and he collapsed.

  Sienna screamed and stumbled. She’d been reaching for Mory but the fledgling necromancer twisted away and kicked Sienna in the knee. She fell.

  Mory scrambled for Jeremy. With Sienna distracted, the pain spell had broken. The necromancer tried unsuccessfully to cushion the young werewolf’s crash to the ground.

  The pentagram held.

  Desmond bounced off the protection ward. Sparks of magic lit the fur on his chest and arms on fire.

  I screamed again, desperately trying to find a foothold to climb down into the cavern.

  Blackwell was groaning, slurring something like, “That was unnecessary.” He attempted to pick himself off the ground where the spell backlash had dropped him.

  Desmond hit the ground without even attempting to break his fall. His fur was singed and smoking, but he wasn’t aflame.

  Cool hands wrapped around my waist and knees, and Kett jumped off the ledge with me in his arms. Though he landed impossibly lightly, it was jarring for me. I bit my tongue where I’d been trying to speak. Or, more likely, scream. I also severely dented my back and knees on his steel arms. Gravity — or maybe that was momentum — was a bitch.

  I scrambled out of Kett’s arms and half-limped, half-ran to Desmond. Black-charred skin was already peeling off him in places, but he hadn’t transformed. Nor was he conscious.

  I looked up to meet Blackwell
’s gaze. He was standing but hunched over, with his hands on his knees. His skin was ashen from the effort of maintaining the magic of the pentagram. Sienna was also gaining her feet behind him. Her face was a web of black veins, her eyes just blown-out black pupils.

  “Not a great idea,” I said. “To piss off powerful people.”

  Sienna cackled a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Who’s that, Jadey? You?”

  “This was not our —” Blackwell said.

  “Shut up, sorcerer,” Sienna interrupted.

  I ignored their squabble — hoping it kept them unfocused for a moment longer — and shifted my gaze to the teenagers huddled as far away from the insane adults as they could get in the pentagram. I remembered the last time I’d been faced with a pentagram, and the backlash after Desmond had broken through it. A backlash the teenagers might not be able to survive.

  I straightened from McGrowly’s prone form, pulled my knife, and flicked my eyes to Kett. “We can’t break it or bulldoze through it. But can we counteract it? Like how you held the one in the basement at bay?” My voice was calm and steady. I flipped my knife in my hand. It was a flashy trick for Blackwell’s benefit, because Blackwell liked bright shiny objects.

  Kett slowly nodded. Then he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt while he walked the perimeter of the pentagram. Blackwell was whispering something to Sienna. She looked to be disagreeing — a lot — but the sorcerer’s eyes didn’t leave my knife. Good.

  “It’s cracked here,” I said, pointing at the dent that McGrowly had made with his head.

  “Dowser,” Blackwell said. His voice was as smooth as whipped cream cheese. “A discussion is in order.”

  “No discussion, sorcerer,” I replied. “Sienna should have mentioned I’m not all over this kidnap-my-friends thing. It didn’t work out so well for her last time.”

  “It worked out just fine for me, Jade.” Sienna stalked toward Mory and Jeremy. “I wound up here. In case you hadn’t figured that out yet. I know everything is just so jumbled in that pretty little head of yours, like all of the time.”

  “Valencia,” Blackwell said. “Perhaps we could —”

  “I’m done asking nicely, Blackwell.” Sienna grabbed Mory by her hair and hauled the fledgling necromancer backward. Mory hung on to Sienna’s wrist as she fought to break away. Tears streamed down her face, but her protests were muffled by the gag.

  “First the crack,” Kett said as he slid out of the shadows and held his pale arm in front of me. “Which, conveniently for us and perhaps for the shifter, is placed above a point. Then, the four other points. Those are the weak spots.”

  “I agree,” I answered. I could see the magic dancing all around the pentagram. It was thinned at each point — from McGrowly’s assault, I guessed.

  “Dowser,” Blackwell said. “We only wish you to open the portal as you did before.”

  “The sorcerer is obsessed with the portal, Jadey,” Sienna said. Mory twisted and kicked but couldn’t get free from my sister’s grip. “But he doesn’t fully commit to the game. Do you, Blackwell?” Sienna hauled Mory back over the stone altar. The fledgling necromancer’s feet scrambled for purchase as my sister bent her backward. “Ah, Jade. Rusty’s much more powerful sister. You always bring me the best gifts.”

  “That’s enough,” Blackwell said. “We were to negotiate —”

  “You’re short sighted, sorcerer,” Sienna laughed. “You see, Jade? I have a knife too.” She pulled out a wicked-looking, jewel-encrusted weapon from her belt. Its blade was two inches wide at the pommel and curved upward into a point. “Blackwell set the spells and provided the knife — one of his collectables. But I’m going to reap the rewards.”

  Sienna slashed her blade toward Mory’s neck as I slid my knife across Kett’s forearm. The wound I carved through the vampire’s skin closed almost as quickly as I cut.

  Sienna’s knife hit the protection spell generated by Mory’s necklace and glanced off with a spark of magic.

  In the same motion as my slash, I flicked the knife toward the crack that McGrowly had created. Droplets of Kett’s blood hit and then clung to the pentagram ward.

  Sienna screamed in frustration, trying to slash Mory’s throat a second time.

  Kett and I stepped sideways to the next pentagram point and I repeated the cut-and-blood-fling. This was damn close to blood magic, but as I watched Sienna’s knife arc toward Mory a third time, I kept moving and splattering. I wasn’t sure how many strikes the necklace could hold against.

  Magic rolled in a wave around the sides of the pentagram. Dark chocolate mixed with the cool peppermint of the vampire’s blood splatter, as McGrowly transformed into his human form and the alpha staggered to his feet.

  Sienna flung Mory to the ground and turned toward Jeremy. Blackwell blocked her passage.

  I flung Kett’s blood at the fourth point. Right at eye level. The vampire’s magic was splattered almost all the way around the pentagram ward now.

  “Sienna — ” Blackwell said.

  “Valencia!” Sienna snarled. Then she hit the sorcerer with her fireblood spell. He staggered, obviously wearing a personal ward of some kind, but it wasn’t strong enough to negate the spell altogether.

  Sienna shoved Blackwell to the ground and stepped around to grab Jeremy.

  I flung Kett’s blood on the fifth point and closed the circle by returning to the crack in the ward McGrowly had made.

  The fledgling werewolf, still gagged and bound, fought hard. Mory threw herself against Sienna’s legs, but with all her stolen power, the black witch was just too strong.

  As I thrust my knife through the crack in the pentagram ward, crumpling the protection spell all along Kett’s splattered blood, my sister slit the werewolf’s throat ear to ear on the stone altar.

  Desmond howled as he crashed through the remainder of the protective ward, only to be hit by a blood-fueled pain spell from Sienna. Beside me, Kett also crumpled underneath Sienna’s magic. But not me. I didn’t fall.

  Jeremy’s blood gushed across the rune-carved altar while I faced off against my best friend and sister. I gritted my teeth against the power behind the fireblood spell while Desmond, Kett, and Blackwell writhed at my feet.

  “Déjà vu, sister,” I said, attempting to not simply lose it over the young werewolf bleeding out two feet from me as I pushed inch by inch against Sienna’s spell.

  “Not quite, Jade.” Sienna smiled. I really, really hated it when people smiled when they meant to kill you, drain your blood, and bind your power to their own.

  Yeah, I’d figured that part out. She wouldn’t need to drag me around to open portals if she could open them herself.

  I twirled my knife as if I was loosening my wrist, but I was probably just delaying the inevitable. Then I stepped forward against Sienna’s blood-powered spell to strike my sister down.

  Except that Jeremy’s blood wasn’t just fueling the pain spell. Because in the pentagram beside me, dark putrid magic vomited up from the bowels of hell — if there was an actual hell — and spewed forth a freaking demon.

  Yes, a demon. Black horns, beady eyes, dark-scaled flesh and all. Demon.

  “It is I, Valencia, who commands you, hound of hell. Heed me and you shall be rewarded in the most powerful of blood.” Sienna screamed and thrust her knife in my direction. “Bring the blond to me!”

  Oh, fuck.

  ∞

  A shitload of shit happened all at once. I gather that’s usually the case when dealing with abnormally strong and fast Adepts, it makes for a confused and disjointed understanding of events.

  Except I knew every step I took, because they were all toward my sister — until Mory screamed. Because killing Sienna, if I was capable, was the only way to vanquish the demon. Yeah, I’d been studying, so what?

  Back up a second.

  Sienna had effectively freed the demon from the pentagram designed by Blackwell to call it up and contain it. Containment being the
important part of the sorcerer’s plan. I guessed that the demon was supposed to be a final bargaining chip. Sienna, by commanding it to bring me to her, released it from the pentagram.

  Yeah, bad idea.

  She was probably banking on her ability to control the creature because she wielded the knife that made the sacrifice. Either that or she was too crazy to care. It was a stupid move, because technically Blackwell laid the spells and owned the knife. Of course, the demon didn’t squabble about who could or couldn’t command it. It was unleashed. It simply lowered its blood-red eyes and inspected its prey.

  Sienna’s pain spell faltered as she commanded the demon. It was too much magic for her to control all at once. Desmond sprang to his feet and leaped the gap between himself and the altar. He batted Sienna out of the way — my sister went flying — and hauled Jeremy off. But no matter the power of an alpha, the teenaged werewolf was dead. There wouldn’t be a demon standing fifteen feet away if he were alive.

  The demon lifted one clawed foot the size of a smart car and brought it down outside the pentagram. Yeah, there were spatial abnormalities going on, but I only had the time to figure out that I didn’t have the time to pee my pants.

  Blackwell and Kett rolled to their feet at the same time. Blackwell took one look at the demon’s foot outside the confines of its pentagram and then turned back toward me. I shook my head, warning him off the idea of abandoning us in the middle of his shit. He ignored me, clutched the amulet he was now clearly wearing around his neck, and disappeared in a wash of magic.

  Freaking asshole.

  Kett danced around the demon. It tracked him for a short while, then let out a puff of smoke from its nostrils. Or was that its mouth? Its flat face made it difficult to tell. Either way, it ignored the vampire.

  I lunged for Sienna, who was attempting to gain her feet where Desmond had thrown her. She was having trouble putting weight on one leg, but unfortunately was still holding the knife. I was within striking distance, my own knife ready even if my heart was still unsure, when Mory screamed.

  I pivoted. The demon’s mouth, all toothy and gruesome, was unmistakable now as it loomed over Mory lying on the ground. The fledgling had managed to pull the gag out of her mouth and was frantically working on the bonds at her ankles. She twisted away from the demon, but it pinned her with one claw by the back of her shirt. The cloth was tearing, but not quickly enough.