Treasures, Demons, and Other Black Magic

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  “Hush, youngling,” Kandy said. “The elders are being inappropriate.”

  I laughed again, lighter and more freely this time. Then I pulled my knife from its invisible sheath and flung it at the wards that covered the gate before me. The knife crashed against the magical barrier with a blue-streaked crack of energy.

  “Knock-knock, sorcerer!” I called as the knife boomeranged back into my open palm. Yep, the blade returned to me at mere thought now. This newly refined trick made me rather difficult to disarm. “Time to come out and play.”

  “Yeah, or we’ll huff and we’ll puff and we’ll blow your castle down,” Kandy cried, repeating the story book mantra from before.

  I laughed. The anticipation of the fight invigorated me. I itched to draw my new sword, to press my strength against another’s. To be beaten and get up. Or to triumph. I was game for either.

  Who the hell had I turned into?

  “Jade Godfrey.” A voice floated out of the darkness behind the latticed metal gates on the other side of the wards. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “You invited me, Blackwell,” I answered. “You know, before you colluded to murder two innocent teenagers and aid my sister in draining my magic.”

  Blackwell stepped forward into a wash of moonlight that just touched the gate. His pale face appeared to be slashed to pieces by the iron latticework. His dark hair and clothing blended into the night. The effect was creepy to say the least.

  “You must know, dowser, that was never my intention. I was blinded —”

  “A sorcerer of your lineage and power was blinded by a half-witch in a blood frenzy?” Kett’s voice cut through the shadows that hid him. “That is difficult to believe.”

  Blackwell flicked his eyes to my left, but he didn’t seem to be able to see the vampire. “I was blinded by the thought of opening the portal, especially after I knew what it was. And, indeed, by the promise of your magic, Jade. The promise of a dowser of your obvious power.” His hand lifted to touch his chest, just briefly. I gathered he wore his precious amulet beneath his dark sweater, but I couldn’t feel its magic through the wards. “Nothing more or less.”

  “Take down the wards, Blackwell,” I said. “And I’ll give you a taste.”

  Blackwell tilted his head, assessing me. Then he grinned. “It’s unfortunate that you come to me so heavily guarded, dowser. Otherwise, I’d gladly take you up on that offer.”

  “Scared of the vampire and the werewolf?” I said, goading him. “They didn’t stop you before.”

  “But they are not all who stand with you, Jade Godfrey,” Blackwell replied. “The wards block me from fully understanding, but you have a third with you as well.”

  “Perhaps that’s my magic you feel.”

  Blackwell laughed. “You’re a tease, Jade.” His use of my first name was intimate. I didn’t like it at all.

  “This is so boring!” Drake complained. His voice was shockingly loud against the quiet banter Blackwell and I had been trading. “We can crack the wards. Right there.” The fledgling shoved his arm by my shoulder and pointed to the base of the gate. “Let’s get to the tricks. You’ll have tricks, won’t you, sorcerer?”

  Drake pulled out his broadsword. The gold of the blade caught the moonlight. Dragons were big on gold and jewels, and flash in general.

  I sighed.

  Kandy laughed, low, husky, and full of anticipation. “I like this boy, Jade. I’m glad you brought him to play.”

  “I didn’t bring him willingly.”

  Blackwell was staring at the thirteen-year-old boy standing in his walkway. Drake was clad identically to me, in black, well-worn laced leathers minus the knee-high boots. The get-up had to look like a Halloween costume on both of us. The wards would block Blackwell from feeling Drake’s full power, but the sorcerer wasn’t an idiot.

  I sighed again. I, too, had seen the edging around the gate where the wards had been opened and closed for centuries. Worn spots. The sorcerer had been remiss in his upkeep, which was odd when he must have expected visitors. More likely, he thought too highly of himself, or maybe he wasn’t able to perceive the weakness in his own defenses. Perhaps he needed to be cut down to size …

  Again, who the hell was I?

  I was angry. So angry at Blackwell that I could barely contain it beneath my polite upbringing.

  “Perhaps the sorcerer would prefer we didn’t break his wards?” I asked mockingly. “Perhaps I should offer a parley?”

  Blackwell shifted his gaze back to me. “You have no authority to do so.”

  “Do I need a badge of some sort? No, let’s forget that silly being-nice idea. Perhaps the sorcerer would like to face me one-on-one? We’re evenly matched, aren’t we, Blackwell? Will you test your spells against my knife?”

  Blackwell eyed my jade knife as I twirled it in my right hand. I knew he found it shiny and unique. It was one of a kind, after all, but would that be enough to entice him?

  No.

  Blackwell stepped back into the darkness of the spur entrance. I couldn’t feel anything beyond the wards of Blackness Castle, but I was sure he was gathering as much magic as he could muster.

  So we went in.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Okay, it wasn’t that easy.

  Before anything else happened, Kandy — in a blast of shifter magic — transformed. I’d seen her in wolf form before, but this was different. Now half-woman, half-werewolf, she towered over the three of us, all long-toothed, razor-clawed, and furry, but still on two legs. This was Kandy’s version of Desmond’s half-beast, who I referred to as McGrowly. A few shifters had the ability to combine their beast and human forms. This hybrid was stronger, and more resistant to magic. She — still clothed in a stretched-out tank top and ripped jeans — wasn’t quite as hideous in this form as McGrowly was. She was a sleeker monster, but still nightmare inducing. If, you know, she didn’t happen to pretty much be my best friend in the entire world.

  “Whoa,” I said. “I see I’m not the only one who’s been practicing.”

  Kandy snapped five-inch-long teeth at me and laughed. At least I think she laughed. It wasn’t a joyful sound.

  “Too cool,” Drake said.

  Kandy pointed one three-inch claw at me. Yes, she still had opposable thumbs — which were also clawed — as well as pointy wolf ears sticking out of her still-dyed green hair. “Owe. Witch. Cupcakes.” She choked the words out of-not-quite human vocal cords. McGrowly’s ability to converse in this form was obviously something he’d refined further than Kandy had.

  “You name it, you got it.” I turned back to the gate, scanning the edges where the magic had thinned. Well, it was more like wear spots. Worn layers that had built up like crumbs at the corners of a cookie jar.

  Deciding that the worn magic was easier to access at the bottom, I laid down on my stomach, facing the gate, and took a deep breath to prepare myself … not that breathing would make the pain any easier to bear.

  I slid my jade knife along the flagstone walkway underneath the gate.

  The magic of the ward resisted, of course. Pain streaked up my arm and through my neck, trying to get out my mouth. Multicolored sparks exploded before my eyes and I tried to blink them away. Then — the pain increasing with every inch — I slid my knife along the bottom edge of the gate, severing the ward’s connection to the stone of the walkway.

  It was kind of like carefully slicing a cupcake in two after you’ve already iced it, so you can add filling. Except cutting cupcakes usually didn’t wrack me with pain.

  I had cut through about a foot of the ward before I started screaming. I had to force myself to continue. This wasn’t the type of magic I could absorb or displace and be done with. It shifted, fighting my intrusion. I tried to shield myself further with the protective power of my necklace, but it still felt like every nerve in my arm was on fire.

  I’d cut through and along about two feet when Drake stepped on eit
her side of my shoulders and reached down to curl his fingers under the tear I’d created.

  “Not yet, fledgling,” Kett said. “Let the alchemist sever the sides, and then we will all step in and distribute the backlash.”

  Drake wasn’t big on listening … or on waiting around for others to open a door for him. He jammed his fingers underneath the ward and the lattice iron gate, and with a bellow that hurt my brain, he wrenched the gate up and open.

  The ward magic — centuries strong — lashed around the fledging guardian, who fell to his knees under the assault. This effectively trapped me underneath his legs. With another grunt, Drake lifted the gate above his head.

  Kandy flung herself forward and underneath, then rolled — back down, feet upward — to take the weight of the gate on her legs.

  With a moan, the fledgling dragon collapsed forward. Kett caught him before he crushed my head, set him off to the side, and then stepped forward to help Kandy hold the gate.

  I rolled to my feet, grasped Drake underneath the shoulders and — squeezing between Kandy and Kett, who were vibrating with the pain of holding the compromised wards open — ducked underneath the gate while dragging Drake after me.

  I hadn’t taken more than two steps into the spur, as Kett called it, before he and Kandy had dropped the gate behind them. The ward didn’t fully snap back into place.

  “We’ve damaged it,” I whispered. “Two feet of clearance at the bottom now.” Kett and Kandy couldn’t see magic as well as Drake and I could.

  The fledgling dragon attempted to sit up but didn’t make it.

  “The fledging probably has the extra magic cycling through him right now,” Kett said. He sounded bemused and impressed. I wasn’t sure the ward magic or Kett’s doubly raised interest was healthy for Drake.

  “Give me a mo …” Drake muttered.

  I propped him up against the wall. He looked okay, just woozy. His magic looked and tasted as usual. “He’s undamaged,” I said.

  “Good,” Kett said. “He can follow. We must press Blackwell at once.”

  “There’s a ton of magic ahead,” I said. The stone walls of the entrance jogged immediately left.

  “Yes,” Kett said. “The spur is doglegged to force intruders to place their backs to the caponier. The passage is also exposed to attack from the parapet on the upper walk. Also, note the gun batteries —”

  “English,” Kandy growled through nastily fanged teeth.

  I was seriously glad the werewolf had broken before me. I hated to admit that I had no freaking idea what Kett was saying … like with every second word out of his mouth, as always. Doglegged? Caponier? Parapet?

  “See those holes in the wall?” Kett enunciated each word, treating us like the idiots we were.

  “Yep,” I answered. Kandy simply snarled and flexed her claws.

  “They are places where the castle’s defenders would have attacked intruders.”

  “Right,” I said. “Avoid stepping in front of the holes.”

  Kandy’s size was a liability in the narrow, tall stone passageway, but she stepped forward and ducked underneath the first of the ‘gun batteries’. Lanterns flared as she passed, perhaps triggered by her magic. Helpfully, this further illuminated the walls and corners for me. I knew from experience that Kandy and Kett could already see well in the darkness.

  “Pockets of magic everywhere,” I said. “Try to not touch anything.”

  Kett nodded and stepped so far into the shadows between the lanterns above us that he practically disappeared. I could still taste his magic, though, and feel the life debt bond. I wondered if he could ever fully hide from me again.

  “Drake?” I asked. “Do you need some help?” I wasn’t actually sure I could lift him. He was way heavier than he looked. Epically heavy for a thirteen-year-old. I think it was a dragon thing. I’d never managed to knock Branson off his feet in training, though I had some spectacular bruises to show for my attempts.

  “Right behind you,” Drake murmured sleepily.

  I sighed. Kandy and Kett were turning again — I could feel their magic shift as they moved — and I didn’t want them to get too far ahead. I should be leading, given that I could actually see magic way better than Kett. Kandy was almost completely blind to it, though I gathered she could smell certain magic … like mine.

  I reached over Drake’s head and pulled his sword out of its scabbard. I laid the blade across his lap and wrapped his hand around the hilt. He clenched his fingers obligingly.

  “Right behind you, warrior’s daughter,” he said with a grin. The title made the bottom drop out of my stomach. It was weighted with all the responsibility that also imbued the gift of the sword across my back.

  Then Kandy screamed. Well, yowled, as if she was in terrible pain.

  I stood, spinning away from Drake and dodging defensive magic as it exploded around me — Kett was right about the gun batteries. I dashed through the zigzagged stone passageway until I rounded the corner into the courtyard.

  “Kandy?” I cried, unable to see anything besides the large central tower looming beyond. The spur and the curtained wall were open to the night air.

  “In the guardroom to your right.” Kett’s cool voice slid out of the shadows ahead of me.

  I swiveled and peered into the darkness. As if reacting to my movement — or, rather, my magic — a light spell shifted over me. Bars crisscrossed a doorway that seemed to lead to a small stone room. Thick silver bars.

  Within the room, Kandy was hunched down. Her hands were pressed to the ground before her, her back arched in pain. Her skin rippled as I watched her shed her half-beast form for her human skin. She was still wearing her stretched-out tank top and ripped jeans, but now her exposed skin was covered in nasty red slashes.

  “Silver,” I whispered. “He expected werewolves.”

  “One has been camped in his front yard for weeks,” Kett murmured. He was closer now, immediately to my left where he always stood. This position kept him guarding my weaker side and out of the way of my knife, which I wielded with my right hand. It had only taken three and a half months of dragon training to figure out why he always positioned himself that way.

  Kandy lifted her head. Her eyes gleamed with the green of her shapeshifter magic as she snarled at me. “Move your ass, dowser. Before Blackwell uses the amulet.”

  “He won’t abandon his collection,” I said. I had the sorcerer pegged.

  “If it is here,” Kett said.

  “Why else would he hole up here and need these defenses?” I countered. But I knew Kandy and Kett were right. I’d already left Drake behind, and I was now going to leave my werewolf friend trapped and in pain. This was who I was now. I didn’t have to like it. I just had to do it.

  I stepped away from the guardroom doorway, turning toward the central tower. Blackwell might have expected retribution from the shapeshifters for Jeremy’s death, but he had no idea what I was capable of.

  “He’s on the other side of the tower,” I said, not bothering to lower my voice. “Outside, not in.”

  Kett nodded in my peripheral vision and stepped left as I branched off around the right side of the tower. I kept about ten feet away from the stone walls. They glistened with a magic that was different from the wards we’d just broken through. I didn’t know its purpose or function, and didn’t have time to study it. The Blackwells — if that wasn’t just a completely made-up surname — had spent centuries fortifying their home.

  Everything could be broken, though, or so I was learning. Promises, hearts, lives …

  Blackwell went for the vampire next. It made sense that he would try to take Kett out, assuming I was the weaker opponent. It was still rude, and maybe a touch misogynistic.

  The spell he used, however, was brilliant.

  We’d circled the central tower and met with what appeared to be a well between us. Then we stepped toward the open expanse of courtyard in the direction of the n
orth tower, where I was sure Blackwell had retreated.

  A whirling fog rose out of the well beside Kett and spread out between us. It enveloped the vampire without a sound. No, not fog. A gray cloak of magic that reeked of day-old, cheap red wine — overly sweet and nausea-inducing. This was not the refined, earthy cabernet that I associated with Blackwell’s magic.

  “Kett,” I hissed.

  The vampire didn’t answer. He didn’t step out from the fog, which just sat like a malevolent cloud beside the well.

  It was a containment spell of some sort. Really impressive, and troubling because I couldn’t reach into it or even slash at it with my knife without some concern of getting sucked in or injuring Kett. I couldn’t injure the immortal, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to mix his blood with any spell, especially one this … well, gray.

  “Your protector is unharmed,” Blackwell said as he stepped into a pocket of light ten feet in front of me. He flicked his fingers, and more light spells floated in from their resting spots on the curtain wall to illuminate the area around us.

  “You going to stand up and fight now, sorcerer?” I taunted. Yeah, I was still pissed off about the demon and Jeremy’s death. I was always going to be pissed about that, even after I kicked Blackwell’s ass.

  The sorcerer responded by throwing a black mass of magic at me. It was a weak, underhand toss.

  I slashed this unknown spell — by its taste, a variation of the fog that had encased Kett — out of the air with my knife. I twisted sideways as the magic dissipated around me.

  Blackwell’s eyes widened. Yeah, the knife was pretty impressive.

  “My sister might be evil through and through, but at least she hits me with everything she’s got. Hell, she set that demon on my ass without even blinking. And she supposedly loves me. What’s your excuse for holding back, Blackwell?”

  The sorcerer flashed a grin at me as he spun another spell in his hands. I couldn’t pinpoint the source of his power. He wore the amulet around his neck, but he wasn’t drawing magic from it. I wondered if it was the castle itself, and that was an unpleasant thought. Its stone walls were long and high, and they were coated in massive amounts of magic.