Amuletto Kiss

by Gina LaManna

  “Let’s go,” I said simply. “No time to wait.”

  We found ourselves outside the Hall of Masters minutes later. Gerry bounced with agitation before us, one foot on the staircase leading inside. I held up a hand to still him.

  “We stick together,” I growled in warning. “All of us. But if something happens in there, you all leave me behind, understand? Get Ranger X, send the protectors inside, but don’t wait there if things go belly up. Understand?”

  I had to prompt the group a few times before they agreed. When I finally had their word, I nodded for Gerry to go ahead and let us in. The Keeper raised a hand and pressed it against the door to let us into the Hall.

  “The chamber is toward the back,” he said as the door slid open. “I’ll show you. To unlock it, we’ll need to—”

  Gerry took one step over the threshold. Midway through, his eyes grew wide in surprise, his figure froze, and then his body crumbled and fell backward. I shouted for Zin to stay away, but it was too late. She barged ahead as I knelt to help Gerry, and she took a step through the doorway.

  “Poppy, get back!” I yelled as she leaped forward to catch Zin. “The doorway’s hexed!”

  Poppy awkwardly clutched Zin’s body to her chest and hauled her away from the cursed entrance. At the same time, I dragged Gerry further away and gave him a quick examination as we moved.

  Both Gerry and Zin had fallen from the hex, and their symptoms were the same: glassy eyed, frozen figures, and a lack of speech. They were plenty alive, but immobilized.

  “Poppy, you can’t go through there,” I said. “I think it’s—it’s a way for him to separate me from the pack. From my friends.”

  “You can’t go through there, either,” she said with a frown. “What if it happens to you?”

  “Can you see anything?” I nodded toward the doorway. A blue haze shimmered there. I hadn’t had the time to notice before two of our four had fallen.

  Poppy shook her head. “Um, do you mean the doorway?”

  “I can see the hex. It’s blue, shimmering—I think it’s meant for me, a sort of invitation. Please go get Diana. Have her bring Brucey and send for medical attention to care for Zin and Gerry. And get Ranger X here! Ask Diana, whatever you need to do—alert him and grant him access to Olympia.”

  Poppy nodded, then hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you behind.”

  “Poppy, I need you—they need you.”

  “I don’t need protection, Lily,” she snapped. “I want to help.”

  “This is not me protecting you. This is me needing you. Don’t you understand?” My hands reached out and shook her. “I need help—please, help me. Get X, get assistance, help Zin and Gerry. That’s where you’re needed.”

  She exhaled, nodded. “Fine, but...” Stepping forward, she pulled me into a hug. “Be careful, Lily. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Poppy.”

  We parted, surveyed each other for a second more, and then I turned to face the hexed entrance. Closing my eyes, I set my shoulders and stepped through.

  I’d find him, and I’d end this.

  Once and for all.

  Chapter 27

  THE HEX OVER THE DOORWAY bubbled shut behind me, as if the air had turned to rubber and snapped closed around my body. It had most certainly been customized as a portal just for me.

  Charming, I thought wryly.

  I moved briskly past the rows of statues. The Hall was dark this time of night, and the pale moonlight that had shown through earlier had vanished. I sent a quick Light Licker enchantment to kiss the torches hung on the wall, and once they’d lit, a faint flicker of flame guided me toward the center of the room.

  The chamber wasn’t hidden now that I knew to look for it. In between all the statues was a circle sketched into the floor, an oval of stone with words etched in the center:

  If you must go,

  To the depths below—

  We must all agree,

  It’s your destiny.

  I turned the words over and over in my head. It wasn’t a spell in itself, it was more of a warning. A riddle. Just before Gerry had crumbled from the hexed doorway, he’d been about to tell me how to access the chambers. To unlock it, we’ll need to...

  “Come on, Gerry,” I mumbled. “What were you trying to say?”

  He hadn’t gotten far enough in his explanation. What needed doing?

  “We must all agree,” I continued. “It’s your destiny. Who is we?”

  I racked my brain, looking around to the statues for help.

  “Talk to me,” I mumbled. “Help me out! Who has to agree...”

  I looked up, surprised to find the answer settling before me.

  “Of course! The magic of the Master lives on through the generations,” I said, repeating Lucy’s earlier words. “You all are the we. I guess that means I’ll have to somehow get you all to agree that I need to go into the chambers.”

  I cleared my throat, unsure how to address a room full of stone statues. Since there seemed to be no better way than simply starting, I began to speak in earnest.

  “Uh, Masters,” I said, feeling like a fool. “I’m sorry to trouble you, but I think your brother is in danger. I need to go into the chambers below.” I glanced at the words inscribed in stone. “I need your permissions. Please, I only want to help him.”

  My words were met by silence. Loneliness. The cavernous echo of a room without a living soul, without the beats of hearts or the whispers of breaths.

  A room still, emptied of hope.

  Until the lights went out. All of the torches extinguished at once, and the front door to the Hall slid closed with the crunch of stone against stone. Darkness was thrust upon me, my heart pumping furiously against my chest, the silence a wild cry in my ears.

  Then—the lights began.

  A glow of the purest white, tiny pinpricks of it all around the room. It surrounded me. Dull at first, then brighter, stronger. I realized as the brightness grew that each beam came from within the statues.

  One by one the Masters’ statues lit, glowing outward through the dark empty sockets where their eyes should have been. Flames had erupted inside of them and burned a blinding white, lighting the room on fire. Almost as if they’d come alive.

  The whole room shone with it. I rotated in a full circle, watching as every last set of eyes flickered to life. The room filled suddenly and, though nothing besides the light changed, everything changed. There were no breaths, no heartbeats, but the buzz of life existed.

  At that moment, the stones began to churn beneath my feet and the outline of the circle began to sink. With a start, I realized I’d gained permission to enter. I spiraled down with the platform as it descended, crouching to save my balance as the circle lowered far beneath ground level.

  My eyes remained glued open, but I couldn’t see much as darkness resumed underneath the Hall. The platform lowered to the floor of the dungeon, coming to a slow halt while I waited perfectly still. Then the stone crunched against the ground, shuddered, and stopped.

  Torches flickered on the walls, a sign someone had been here recently. I couldn’t see beyond the limited glow of the firelight. I straightened at the swish of fabric, then the shuffle of footsteps. I wasn’t alone.

  My heart pounded. I turned slowly in the direction of the sound. I prepared myself to meet my father again, the dark figure from the Master’s memories, but my throat went dry and a familiar sense of dread crept over me.

  When I faced the man, I gasped.

  It wasn’t him. It wasn’t my father.

  “What are you doing here—alone?” I gaped at the Master of Magic himself. “Quickly—we need to get you out of here. I saw...wait, I saw your memories. He—my father—took you away. How did you escape?”

  “I’m not who you expected, am I?” The Master allowed himself the smallest of smiles under his cloak. “I’m sorry for the deception, but I needed to talk to you alone.”

  “Why didn’t you just ask?”
I struggled to get my bearings. I’d been wrong—wrong about everything. This wasn’t about The Faction or my father. It was a ploy, a scheme, and I’d fallen for it wholeheartedly. “Yesterday when I saw you, you just stared at me—I was there in your office, and you could have talked to me then, but you refused.”

  “It had to happen this way.”

  “Why? Gerry is worried sick about you. The world...” I raised an arm to signify the faint booms of thunder and storms in the background outside of the near-silent dungeon. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m doing this for the good of all of us,” The Master said. “Come here, come closer.”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “The prophecy,” he said. “I need you to tell me what’s in the prophecy.”

  “That makes no sense.” I stepped backward as he stepped forward. “You’re the only one who knows its contents. I can’t help you—I don’t know what it says.”

  “You will tell me. You will find out.” the Master spoke in a low slither. “This prophecy is essential. I have my suspicions as to its contents, but I need them confirmed. You’re the key to it. But how? Why? What is it about you, Miss Locke, that’s so special?”

  “I don’t know!” I wished I knew how to make the stone platform ascend, to return back to the Hall above so I could call for help. I fought the urge to run because there was simply no place to go. “I have no clue how I’m involved, or why. I wish I did know. I thought you’d be able to tell me.”

  “M-miss Locke,” he said, but his voice drew to a choking halt.

  The Master of Magic lurched forward. He held his stomach as if he were sick, but strange things began to happen around him. I couldn’t bring myself to help, nor could I run. I could only watch, horrified, as his body morphed before me.

  The robe on his back lengthened and his body grew taller, broader, stronger. Younger. Impossible. Then the figure stretched to new heights and threw back the hood of his robe. Finally, the new man standing in the chambers met my gaze.

  “Hello, Lily,” he said. “It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

  “Lucian,” I breathed. “But...”

  “How did I do that?” he asked, amused. “It’s thanks to you, actually. I’m sure you’ll understand.” Lucian brushed aside his robe to show me a travel belt not unlike mine, except his contained vials of a bright pink concoction.

  “Long Isle Iced Tea,” I said, aghast. “The woman—the one buying for the party. She was supplying you.”

  “It is a party,” he said with a wry smile. “I would call it a reunion, as a matter of fact. Father and daughter.”

  “Never.”

  “Oh, Lily,” he said, sighing heavily. “Don’t play these games. You knew it was me you’d face tonight all along, and yet you still came. You didn’t have to come here tonight.”

  “Oh, but I did.” I forced myself to stand tall as Lucian stepped onto the platform with me. We circled the round stone, watching one another. “You took the Master to get me here. Why?”

  “Isn’t it obvious yet? The prophecy. I need it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I banished every word about it to the recesses of my mind. Liam’s mention of it, his belief that it was the very thing Lucian was after. It dawned on me that Liam had been right.

  “You do.” Lucian read the recognition in my gaze. “You know of it at the very least.”

  “I know of it,” I admitted. “Nothing more than rumors.”

  “What do you suspect it says?”

  He didn’t know. He lacked the information Diana had given me about my mother’s amulet—her mother’s amulet. Diana suspected the prophecy spoke the name of the next Mother of Magic. She had guessed the name was mine, but only the prophecy could tell us that for certain.

  I hid this information in the recesses of my mind and focused on my own curiosities. “I have no clue what it says, but it seems to concern me,” I said wryly. “I’d like to know what my fate is, so if you happen to uncover more details, let me know.”

  “Lies.”

  “Sure, fine.” I shrugged. “Lies.”

  This seemed to confuse him. “You don’t know?”

  “Why do you think I came here tonight?”

  He frowned. “Because of me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, father,” I said, spitting the last word. “Despite your ego, surely you can see that I’m not happy to be related to you. I came here hoping to meet the Master and find out the contents of that prophecy. It’d be nice to know if I’m expected to live or die.”

  “What does it matter? You can’t alter a prophecy.”

  “No, but I might try.” I stepped toward him, my fear somehow at bay despite my defenselessness. “If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well find the one who’s supposed to kill me and take care of him first.”

  I couldn’t have disarmed him better with a curse. Lucian froze, uncertain, and stepped backward. He reached the edge of the stone pedestal and stumbled as he retreated to the ground behind.

  I towered over my father, standing a good foot above him with the added height of the platform. He hadn’t expected me to fight back, and when he glanced up at me, his gaze was uncertain.

  “You can’t change a prophecy,” he repeated. “It’s impossible.”

  “Has anyone tried?” I smiled grimly. “Don’t forget, I’m the Mixologist.”

  “I need it,” he said, anger darkening his gaze like storm clouds. “And I happen to have the one person who can enlighten us on the matter.”

  My heart skipped a beat as Lucian raised his hand and muttered a curse. Ropes sprung from his palm, affixing themselves to something in the distance. Or rather, someone.

  He continued to mutter under his breath, drawing the ropes toward him. The figure on the other end dragged along as well, his robes filthy and his body battered with dust and grime.

  “Stop!” The second I saw the body, I leaped toward the prisoner, cutting through Lucian’s ropes with my own Slicing Spell.

  Kneeling beside the old man whom I recognized as the true Master of Magic even through the filth, I pulled his head into my lap and brushed his hair from his face. I murmured soothing words to him as I pulled Aloe Ale from my travel belt and began to dab some on the more severe cuts and bruises. Despite my touch, the Master remained unconscious.

  “Wake,” Lucian instructed, and the man’s eyes opened.

  The Master’s eyes met mine with startling clarity. I flinched in surprise. Recovering quickly, I eased him into a sitting position and then stood by his side. He stretched his muscles and flexed his fingers while I took a step back.

  “Ahh, Lucian.” The Master finally spoke, groaning as he stood. “So, the time has come, I’m afraid.”

  My father’s eyes flashed at the name. “You don’t know me.”

  The Master opened his arms wide. “But of course I do. How do you think you entered Olympia? Not by your own cleverness, certainly.”

  Lucian’s gaze faltered. “But my portal—”

  “I allowed you in. That is the sole reason you’re here.” To me, the Master gave a small smile and shake of his head. “Gerry will not be pleased with me.”

  Lucian bit his lip, then threw that idea away. “Impossible. I used the Rune of the Relics spell for entry.”

  “As you wish.” The Master of Magic nodded easily, which visibly angered Lucian.

  My father pulled up the sleeve of his black robe and exposed a bruised injection site. “I had to infuse myself with demigod blood to make it work.”

  “Why?” The Master’s question was innocent. “Why infuse yourself when you had the bloodlines to begin with?”

  “I did not. I am not a descendent.”

  The Master of Magic blinked once, twice. “But of course you are. As is Lily. You both belong to Ceres. Distantly, yes, but it’s there.”

  “Then why couldn’t I walk through the gates of Olympia?”

  “Because we didn’t w
ant you here,” the Master said simply. “That’s what happens when you want to kill me.”

  “I don’t want to kill you. But I will if that’s what it comes to—I need to know what’s in that prophecy.”

  “You will have to kill me,” the Master said, and I started toward him, but he waved me off. “It’s alright, Lily. I’m ready to die. I’ve been preparing for this moment.”

  Lucian’s face scrunched as he fought back anger. The Master might be prepared, but Lucian wasn’t. He’d clearly assumed the Master would fight for his life, would forfeit the contents of the prophecy instead of choosing willingly to leave this earth and join the statues above us in the Hall of Masters.

  “My time draws to an end; we are all feeling it,” the Master said. “Maybe you’re the one meant to land the final blow. I don’t know—I don’t want to know.”

  “You’ll fight back,” Lucian said. “Just watch.”

  “No!” I yelled, seeing what was happening, but my reaction was too late.

  With a snarl, Lucian sent a horrible curse screeching toward the old man.

  The magic hit the Master straight in the chest, a festering ball of purple light and black smoke. It was meant to choke, to steal the victim’s oxygen, and it worked. The Master fell to his knees, gasping for breath, his eyes wide.

  “You idiot!” I shouted to Lucian. “If you kill him, neither of us will know the answers! Our world will fall apart!”

  Closing my eyes, I summoned the most powerful curse-breaking hex I could muster without a potion to assist. I put my hands over the Master, muttering the chant until the electricity shorted out and the smoke evaporated to nothing.

  Lucian appeared shaken. Both by my outburst and the Master’s willingness to die for his secrets. The Master of Magic, all powerful, could have prevented the curse if he’d wanted; he could have fought back, could have overpowered Lucian. Instead, he’d let himself crumble.

  A dangerous gleam returned to Lucian’s eyes as a new idea settled over the old one. He turned to me, my stomach twisting under the horrible smile.