by Linsey Hall
A second later, we were standing in an abandoned city. Cold wind whipped through the empty streets. Skyscrapers soared toward a sunless sky, and eerie quiet descended. Paper blew across the street in front of us, and an old brown sedan sat forsaken. It looked like a movie about the apocalypse.
But worse, the feel of dark magic washed over me, a horrible prickly sensation. My stomach turned.
“The Monster,” I whispered.
Del’s hand tightened in mine. “I feel it.”
“This is his place,” Nix said as the scenery around us wavered, turning back to desert and then to an icy hellscape. The snow glittered white under the light of a non-existent sun.
Where the hell was the light even coming from?
“What is it?” Aidan asked.
“I have no idea.” I shuddered, the cold streaking through me. “It’s not real and it’s not anywhere on Earth. This magic is too strange. Too strong.”
“I think it’s a waypoint between Earth and the heavens and hells,” Del said. “I’ve read about these places. Nothing is stable or solid.”
“Oh, great. So we’re not on Earth.” That had never been on my travel itinerary before. For good reason. “Let’s find Dr. Garriso and get the hell out of here.”
My skin still prickled with unease, an undeniable sense that the Monster was near. Whispers teased at my ears, snippets of conversation I couldn’t quite grasp. As if there were people in a room just next door.
I tried to force my heartbeat to calm and closed my eyes, focusing on Dr. Garriso. I called forth my dragon sense to find him, filling my mind with images of his face and everything I held dear about him.
His support, his conversation, his knowledge.
The familiar sense of direction tugged at my middle, pulling me left. Relief filled me, a balm that drove away some of the horrible prickly feeling of this place. I wouldn’t be able to find him if he weren’t alive.
I pointed. “That way.”
My boots crunched in the ice as we set off. My leather jacket did me no good. My skin was so cold it almost burned.
“Fake Antarctica was not where I expected to end up,” Nix said.
We’d dragged Nix away from a Netflix marathon, but as always, she’d come willingly.
“That’s the truth.” Our surroundings wavered. I squinted, trying to make out what world we’d be walking into next.
Noise and heat crashed around me. Blazing sun beat down, nearly blinding. I blinked, desperately trying to regain my vision. We were in an enormous stadium.
No, a coliseum. People dressed in Roman togas screamed and waved their fists at the gladiators below. Dust billowed beneath the fighters’ feet as they danced around each other, swords clashing.
Did this waypoint take us between times as well as worlds?
Toga-clad people turned to point and shout at us.
“We need to get out of here,” Aidan said.
“Agreed,” Del said. “I don’t want to be burned as a witch for appearing out of the blue.”
I nodded vehemently, though I wasn’t sure if the Romans burned people as witches. It didn’t really matter, though. Anyone capable of appearing out of thin air probably looked dangerous and in need of serious questioning.
“Come on!” Aidan said, then turned and pushed his way through the crowd toward the nearby stairs. We followed him, single file, taking advantage of the path he’d created and sprinting down the stone steps.
More and more people turned to look at us instead of the battle below. Our clothes were so strange. Pants in ancient Rome? Talk about weird. I couldn’t sense any magic, which meant we were likely among mortals. A few mortals were no problem. But this many mortals?
A big problem. I didn’t want us getting caught in some sticky situation that necessitated Del transporting us out of here. She needed to save her power for the return journey to Magic’s Bend.
Heavily armed men blocked our exit at the bottom of the stairs, their swords raised and glinting in the light.
“No magic!” I hissed at my companions. “They’re human!”
I reached for my daggers, hesitating when the scene began to waver. The gladiators and sunlight disappeared, replaced by darkness, strobe lights, and pulsing music.
“What the hell!” Nix shouted from beside me.
All around us, hundreds of bodies danced to the techno music that blared from enormous speakers set upon a raised stage. Rainbow-colored strobe lights lit the scene. Magic flowed from the inhabitants, a cacophonous blend of scents, tastes, feelings.
We were in some kind of supernatural dance club, likely in an all-magic city somewhere in Europe.
“I take it back!” Nix said. “I think I prefer fake Antarctica!”
So did I. It was damned hard to follow my dragon sense with so much going on around me. I had to close my eyes to focus on it. But it was elusive, the feel of Dr. Garriso’s location only a weak tug about my middle. Left? Forward?
Finally, I picked up the thread of it and followed the tug, turning around and pointing toward the main part of the club. The dance floor was huge, an endless sea of supernaturals of all shapes and sizes. Even demons danced, their weird shapes and colors standing out amongst the more human-looking supernaturals.
“There!” I pointed. “The exit past the dance floor.”
I stepped aside to let Aidan lead, figuring his bulk was better to part the crowd. It worked, and we followed him through the writhing bodies. I slapped a hand that reached for my ass, but by the second one, I was pissed. That guy got a punch straight to the nose.
“Bitch!” he cried, then grunted.
I turned to see him doubled over and Nix shaking her fist.
“Moron!” she yelled, then turned and winked at me.
We pushed our way through the crowd to catch up to Aidan, who’d stopped in the middle of the crowd to wait for us. A trio of Barbie dolls had turned to stare appreciatively at him. They were approaching when I reached him. I hissed—honest to god, hissed—which was really embarrassing, but they backed off.
Apparently I was territorial around Aidan. That was new for me, but now was hardly the time to examine it.
Actually, never was the time to examine it.
We set off through the crowd again, following in Aidan’s wake. The exit light beckoned. What city would we step out into?
The ground fell out from under me. A scream strangled in my throat as I clawed at the air. I crashed into icy cold saltwater. It blinded me, filling my mouth and cutting off my scream. I kicked for the surface, praying it was near.
When my head broke through, I searched for Aidan and my deirfiúr. Nix broke the surface first, followed by Aidan, and finally Del.
“What the hell!” Del sputtered.
I choked on salt water as I spun in a circle, searching for land. Great cliffs soared in the distance, red stone dully reflecting the light of a sun I couldn’t see.
“Hang on,” Nix said. She raised her hands above the water. Blue light glowed around them, and her brow scrunched in concentration. A moment later, a small rowboat appeared.
Thank magic for her ability to conjure.
We swam for the boat, scrambling in and collapsing against the sides. I panted, exhausted, my eyes burning from the seawater. Everyone looked like drowned rats, their hair plastered to their heads. I looked no better, I was sure.
“Damn, this sucks,” I said.
“I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting the ocean,” Aidan said.
“Does this mean there could be lava?” Nix asked.
“For magic’s sake, I hope not.” I focused on my dragon sense again, grateful to find that it pulled us towards land. “Dr. Garriso is on that piece of land.”
“Thank God he’s not in the water,” Nix said. “I can’t imagine he’s a strong swimmer.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said. “Dr. Garriso looks fragile, but he’s tough.”
Nix conjured two oars and passed them over to Aidan. “Here you go, big
guy. Put those muscles to use. Assuming we don’t end up in a volcano with the next world shift, I’ll take over in a bit.”
Aidan nodded and took the oars, then slotted them into the oarlocks and began to row. Waves crashed against the boat, sending us rocking. Cold water splashed. I shivered and huddled deeper into my now-soaked jacket. I debated using magic to dry myself, but decided to save it.
“Only a few hundred more yards!” Del called from her place at the bow. Land beckoned.
The water around us turned to sand.
The boat stopped dead.
Dry heat filled my lungs.
Desert again.
“At least our clothes will dry quick,” Nix said.
We climbed out of the boat and set off, used to the crazy changes by now.
“How far did Dr. Garriso go?” As soon as I asked the question, I caught sight of a collapsed figure a hundred yards away. The dark clothes stood out starkly against the golden sand.
My heart pounded. I ran ahead, pushing myself as the sand dragged at my boots. It was Dr. Garriso. It had to be. When I neared, I could make out his white hair and tweed coat.
The tightness in my chest loosened. He was going to be all right.
Suddenly, stone walls crashed down around me, cutting out the light. A torch crackled in its wall sconce, throwing a small amount of light into the room. I stumbled on the stone ground that was suddenly beneath my feet. Dr. Garriso lay ahead, but when I whirled, all I saw were stone walls. Not even a door.
Nix, Del, and Aidan were gone.
And I was in a cell.
My heart beat frantically, and sweat broke out on my skin. “What the hell.”
Dr. Garriso didn’t answer. I fell to my knees beside him, wincing at the hard stone.
Gently, I shook his shoulder. “Dr. Garriso. Wake up. We have to get out of here.”
How, I had no idea.
Dr. Garriso’s face was slack, his breathing slow. Passed out. Or magically subdued? I couldn’t tell which.
Panic beat its fists against my ribs as I climbed to my feet and went to a wall. I pounded against the stone. All it did was make my hands sore.
I swallowed hard, shaking. This wasn’t like the rest of the world changes. It felt more deliberate.
I turned to face the room.
A door appeared in the wall.
Shit.
Suddenly, this was all too familiar. Like the cell I’d been locked up in as a child.
A tall, slender figure walked through. He was dressed entirely in black—appropriate for this creepy place—and his skin was so pale he was almost transparent. Even his hair was nearly see-through. Though this whole area vibrated with the Monster’s evil magic, this man wasn’t the Monster.
“Who are you?” I demanded. “Where am I?”
I reached out for his power, seeking his signature to get a better feel. When the smell of magic hit me—smoke and burning—I stumbled back into the wall.
“Holy magic, you’re a FireSoul.”
“Indeed.” His voice was as crisp and cold as a winter morning.
In a place that reeked of the Monster’s dark magic? “What is this place? Why are you here? Where are my friends?”
He swept his pale hands out in front of him. “It is my creation.”
“The whole waypoint?”
He laughed, a horrible sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Would that it were. No, just this dungeon.”
“You built it quick.”
“I’m powerful.”
I could feel that. His power vibrated on the air. It smelled like burning plastic and felt like a cold trickle down my spine.
“But this place smells like the magic of a man I know. And you aren’t him.” It made my stomach turn to call him a man.
“No, that I am not. But I am his.”
The hair on my arms stood on end. If he worked for the Monster, I couldn’t let him take me or my deirfiúr. But questions burned my tongue.
“You’re not wearing a collar,” I said, thinking of the collar that Aaron had worn. Aaron had been a FireSoul slave of the Monster’s. I’d met him once not long ago and killed him, though I hadn’t wanted to.
“It is unnecessary.” He approached, his walk so graceful that he almost glided. “I am willingly his.”
I stepped back. “His creature, you mean? Minion to a monster?”
He shrugged. “Monster, genius.”
“Why would you side with someone like him? After all he’s done?” Enslaving child FireSouls, murder, torture.
He looked at me like I was stupid and said, “Power.”
Power. Obviously.
“The magic he has taught me is like none you’ll ever know.”
“And I don’t want to know.”
“Don’t you, FireSoul? I can sense your power. Sense that you’ve killed for it.” He roamed the edge of the room, a spider drawing close to its prey.
“I had to,” I said.
“Not true.”
No, it wasn’t. And that reality scared me.
“And you liked it,” he said.
I shook my head, though he was right. I liked not just the power, but the act of stealing it. But I didn’t want to like it. It was a fine line to walk—managing the power without becoming consumed.
This man was consumed.
There was so much that I wanted to ask, but it was past time for me to be getting out of here. This world was the Monster’s, and this guy couldn’t be here for anything good.
I steadied myself, calling upon my magic and reaching out for his. I needed to know what I was up against if I was going to fight him. His magic felt strange and subtle, unlike most. Elemental mage powers hit you in the face normally, and so did most of the others. But this was odd.
Finally, I grasped it.
He was an Illusionist. The most powerful I’d ever met if he could make his illusions as real as the stone that had bruised my fists.
Awkwardly, I pulled his magic toward myself, struggling to manipulate it into something I could use. I’d never mirrored an Illusionist before.
I went for something easy, creating a shimmery illusion of smoke that surrounded him, obscuring Dr. Garriso and myself at the edge of the room. I lunged left, then called upon my lightning, letting it fill me with a crackling burn.
Thunder boomed and the bolt streaked toward him. But it passed through him, then streaked through the rock wall behind him.
Both were illusions.
Shit.
An arm wrapped around my neck from behind, a steel bar that cut off my breath. I thrashed.
“Using my own powers against me?” he hissed. “Mirror Mage, are you?”
So he didn’t know what I was? Or who?
This close, I couldn’t use lightning or risk frying myself too. I grabbed for the dagger strapped to my thigh, but before I reached it, iron manacles snapped around my wrists. He grabbed my arm and yanked it back, trapping my hands near my waist.
Too far from my blades.
Shit.
I struggled, but he was stronger than he looked.
“Not so fast,” he said.
I kicked back, nailing him in the shin. He grunted, then stood and tugged me up. I dropped my weight, hoping to break his hold, but he just dragged me away from Dr. Garriso’s body.
“Where the hell are you taking me? You’re just going to leave him there?”
“Don’t need him. But the master might like you. Another FireSoul. Knew it as soon as I felt you.”
Oh, hell no.
I called upon my lightning, doing my damnedest to keep it minimal, and sent a bolt into his middle. A horrible noise escaped his throat as he collapsed. It shocked me, too, sending painful electricity through my limbs. Nothing like actually using the magic.
I scrambled across the stone toward his body, my limbs weak as jello. With a shaking hand, I reached for the dagger strapped to my right thigh. The dungeon still surrounded us, so he wasn’t incapacitated enough for his mag
ic to fail.
He surged up, a silver knife in his hand and rage in his eyes. He looked mad enough to kill me. I lunged for him, my blade glinting black in the dim light.
But he reached me first, sinking his dagger into my arm. Agony bloomed hot and fierce as warm blood poured down my arm. I forced myself to tighten my grip on my blade and heaved myself against him, throwing him onto his back.
I plunged my dagger down, satisfaction arcing through me when it sank easily into his chest. He struggled weakly, his dark eyes dimming. I’d hit him straight in the heart, a quick death.
As soon as his blood welled, the familiar hunger arose, clawing at me. My FireSoul roared up, ravenous, and white flame flickered across my skin, reaching out for his magic. I ached for it, for the moment his power would flow into me. It’d be so good. So, so good.
No.
I reared back, sucking in a ragged breath. His struggles slowed, enticing the FireSoul within me even more. My hands burned to push him down, suck out his power, and make it mine.
That wasn’t me. I didn’t want it to be me.
I had to control it. I had to fight this.
But it called to me. Not just the hunger—the power itself. This man’s magic, his power over illusion, was one of the greatest magical gifts I’d ever seen. It’d be such an incredible weapon against the Monster.
Though the emptiness roared within me, I clung to that rational thought. To any rational thought. This was too great a gift to leave behind. But I had to be in control if I were going to take it.
Deliberately, I pressed my hands to his shoulders, trying to control the process of taking his magic. Trying not to let it overcome me. I didn’t want to become the ravenous thing that I feared my FireSoul would make me. The man below me was proof of what the desire for power could do.
I had to be present for this act—me controlling my FireSoul, not the other way around.
The white flame licked over my arms, bright and fast, and reached into him. It burned, but I embraced the pain as payment for the deed I was about to commit.
