His Cure For Magic (Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  It has to have gone back to the depths. What does it want with her?

  He clenched his teeth and tightened his abdomen, fighting to keep his magic under control. He could feel the tingling building on his spine.

  He couldn't scale the walls like these creatures could. He couldn't do anything if the metal man killed him.

  He did the last thing he wanted to do.

  He did the only thing he could do.

  He ran.

  ###

  He didn't look where he was running to. He vaulted the barricade and dashed into the corridor beyond, hearing the cracking of bones and the smooth sliding of the metal man's limbs. A few seconds later, it stopped.

  "It hides. It is lost."

  He could still hear the creature in his head. His bloody tears were mixed with salty ones, and he sobbed while he ran. He didn't pay attention to his surroundings. He wasn't careful about where he was going. He needed to get away, to escape the ircidium man and have a moment to compose himself and work out what to do. Eryn had to be alive, and he was the only one who could save her.

  He came to a long hallway lined with doors. A few were open, and he glanced inside to make sure there was no better route. They were living quarters. Small, with a flat wooden platform holding a mattress, a wood desk and chair, another of the flat white stones for light, an armoire and a bookshelf.

  Wilem forced himself to stop. He ducked inside an open room and swung the door closed behind him. There was a bolt attached to it that could be slid across to lock it. The mechanism wouldn't stop the ircidium man, but he used it anyway, and then pushed his back against the door and closed his eyes.

  "Wizard. It knows it is here."

  He heard it in his mind. Its booming voice shaking his thoughts.

  "It feels the wizard's power. It should not have come here. It knows it is banished from Genesia. It is banished from this world. It is not safe."

  Wilem tried to calm himself, to slow his breathing. He could hear the creature in his mind. Could he speak to it that way?

  "Not safe?" He said it out loud, but at the same time tried to push the question to the front of his mind. He felt a shiver in his spine.

  "It speaks? It is strong. It is infected. The infection cannot be allowed to spread. It will destroy everything."

  "I don't understand."

  It need not understand. It is a wizard. It is infected. It must be destroyed.

  The voice was growing louder, and he knew from the growing fear that it was drawing close.

  "Infected with what?" he asked. Eryn had told him the power was a disease, but he had a cure. How could he be infected?

  "It is a parasite. It is feeding. It is the end of it."

  Wilem had never heard the word 'parasite' before. He didn't know what the creature was saying. "Where did it come from? How did I get it?"

  "The subroute. The ebocite. It does not belong. It must be contained."

  Heavy footsteps shook the ground. The metal man was in the corridor. Wilem held his lips tight together, holding back the screams of fear he wanted to release. He tried to quiet his thoughts, as though that would keep the creature from finding him.

  He could hear it approach. He heard silence when it reached his door. He skittered away on hands and knees, moving to the back of the room just as the huge sword splintered the wood behind him, blasting the door apart.

  "Where is it?" he shouted in deathly fear and anger. He slid Davin's pack from his back and frantically fought to untie it.

  The ircidium man stopped.

  It hides. It hides. It hides. It hides.

  He undid the strap and reached in, finding the box and pulling it out. He flipped the clasps and opened it, keeping his eyes on the creature.

  "It hides. It hides. It..."

  Its head moved. It looked down at him.

  He found a vial of Kelkin's blood and the injector - a small contraption that pushed the contents of the vial through a thin vein of ircidium. The metal man took a step forward.

  He placed it in the injector, and jammed it into the back of his neck. It was awkward to administer himself, but he was desperate. The blood flowed out into him. He had never taken it like this before. He had never taken it when he wasn't exhausted. Talia would have chided him for wasting it.

  The creature raised its sword, ready to end his life for a second time. Wilem closed his eyes, expecting the killing blow to fall at any moment. He could feel the new blood taking effect, calming the magic.

  I'f I die... I'm sorry, Eryn. I love you.

  He waited for it to end. He waited for the moment of pain and the fading of his existence. When it didn't come, he opened his eyes.

  The metal man stood over him, its sword lowered. Without explanation, it turned around and left.

  I did it! It worked!

  Wilem felt his fear replaced with joy. He bent over and cried, his tears clean and clear. He was going to find her. He was going to save her. He had to.

  He tried to get to his feet. The world started fading away, the full effect of the injection taking hold. His legs turned to mush, and he fell forward onto his stomach.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Eryn

  Eryn struggled against the creature's grip, trying to shake herself free. It held her tight, though the actual force on her wrists seemed as light as a feather.

  "Let me go," she cursed.

  It didn't respond to her. It was leading her away, still trapped in the distortion field. She could feel her magic throbbing and pulsing, as though it were laughing or dancing, or celebrating her capture. As if this thing that held her in its grip was the very place it wanted to be.

  She could see Wilem, frozen in time, thrown from her field by the creature's power. He was surrounded by the other monsters. He was going to die.

  She kept struggling. She kept fighting. It was no use.

  It pulled her along, back towards the open hole in the metal grate. Back towards the mist. It didn't speak to her again.

  Wilem. Wilem, I'm sorry. This is my fault. I'm sorry.

  She used her thumb to push her ring, rocking it and shifting it, trying to get it from her finger. If he found it, he would know she was still alive, and if she wasn't, at least he would have something of hers. She knew he loved her. She could tell by the way he looked at her. She had spent her entire life watching her father look at her mother that way. She could tell by the way he had kissed her, too. So full of passion and emotion. She had liked it more than she had even expected to.

  That he had never told her what he felt... she could guess why, and she admired him for that, too.

  They were moving away, getting further and further from him. She shoved as hard as she could, sliding the ring forward until it hung from her knuckle.

  "Let me go," she said again, loud enough to mask the sound of the ring falling from her finger and bouncing onto the floor. It ricocheted across the ground and came to rest not far from where he was standing.

  Please see it. Please take it. Please know that I'm sorry. Please know that I love you, too.

  Tears came to her eyes at the thought. It was a new thought to her. One she had never considered before. Was it true? Could it be true? Had she found it, only to lose it again?

  She watched him disappear as they passed through the doorway and reached the opening. The creature turned and released one wrist, just long enough to pick her up in its arms. She struggled twice as hard, but it seemed unimpressed with the effort.

  I'm sorry. Oh, Wilem. We should never have come here. I will get free of this thing. I will find you. If you die, I will avenge you. I'm sorry. I love you.

  There was no trick to the monster's exit. It reached the hole, and jumped.

  They fell thirty feet or more, before landing on something. It was dark green, with gigantic overlapping plates of thick hide. A large yellow and red eye turned and shifted so a black orb was peering up at them. It rocked and swayed, but the creature that held her didn't even need to st
eady itself.

  Bang!

  It moved downwards.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  That was what they had heard. Not the creature that was holding her, but something much, much larger.

  How was something this gigantic hiding from the ircidium man? How had it even gotten in here?

  It was the distortion field. It was as though these things lived inside of it, part of their world and yet separate. Existing in time, but askew of their time. Would it have been able to capture her if she hadn't used her magic? Had she made a fatal mistake? Could it come out of its field and become real enough in their world for someone to kill it?

  The huge beast climbed down, taking much longer than Eryn expected to reach the bottom. She could hear the ethereal throbbing they had felt the minute they'd entered. It had grown so much stronger that she knew she was right on top of it.

  The creature held her in its arms, and carried her down a serrated back to a stone platform. There was light here, an odd black and gold light, and she could see the full mass of the thing in it. At least a hundred feet long, and forty feet wide, with huge, thick hind legs and a long, spiny tail. Its head had the shape and sleekness of a horse's, but in heavy leather scales, with long, curved teeth that jutted from its mouth.

  It also had wings. Huge wings that were folded in on themselves in this small space, unable to spread fully. Its forearms gripped each side of the stone well, and it pulled itself up away from the platform. The mist was above them, pumping out of another series of holes in the wall.

  The ebocite was below them.

  It was sitting at the very bottom of the well; a single, tremendous black crystal. It rested in an ircidium dish, with dozens of smaller colored crystals placed around it. They were suspended in some kind of liquid. It was clear like water but it looked much thicker. She could see the waves of the vibrations moving through the liquid and connecting in criss-crossing patterns around the ebocite.

  The resonance.

  She knew that was what she was feeling, and what the throbbing represented. She could sense the resonance, even from hundreds of feet up. Jeremiah had regretted creating the very thing she was now looking at, because it had led to some kind of massive war. Against these creatures? Had they come from somewhere to claim the energy that the ebocite was emitting? These things didn't exist in the Empire, except...

  The creatures in the Rushes had blinked in and out of existence. That had to mean something.

  What if they thought they had won the war, but a few stragglers remained?

  What if it wasn't that simple?

  Eryn winced, feeling a sudden pain in her thigh. Her spine was still tingling, her magic still active. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself, to force it away.

  "Two thousand cycles, I have waited." The creature's voice was soft in her mind. "Waited for my brethren to return. Waited to have our revenge against those who plucked us from our home." Its mouth curled in a mixture of a snarl and a smile. "I never expected this. I never expected you."

  The pain in her thigh was growing, and she was getting dizzy.

  "You will be our Queen. You will bring us back. You will help us survive."

  He lifted her up, closer to his face. Stiff, wooden lips brushed against her forehead. She wanted to scream, but she didn't have the strength.

  "Who am I?" she whispered. She was losing control of her thoughts. The world was spinning out of control.

  "The daughter."

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Talon

  Talon opened his eyes.

  It was still dark. He wasn't sure where he was yet.

  He knew he was on his back. He could feel the cold harshness of a metal table on bare flesh. It was a strange feeling. His eyes began to focus, and he could see the light of a white stone above him. It was too bright. It washed out everything around it, and left him unsure.

  "Hello, Talon," a voice said.

  He licked his lips. They were dry and cracked. He tasted blood.

  "If you want to drink, then you must get up."

  He opened his eyes again. He forced them to stay open while they adjusted. He tried to remember how he had gotten here, but couldn't.

  There is nothing to do but get up.

  He shifted his weight and brought his torso upward, planting his arms so he could stay sitting. He was in a small room. The walls were stone, the floor was covered in rugs. The table was ircidium, as he had suspected. Channels around the edges were stained red, having caught his blood and collected it in a basin at the foot. He could see into the basin. He had lost a lot of blood.

  He felt a pinch in his chest, and looked down. A long scar crossed his body from chest to gut, and another rested near his heart. That one was fresh, the thin ircidium wire still holding it closed.

  "If you are sitting up, then how do you feel?"

  His jaw hurt. He turned his head. The speaker was in the corner of the room. He was an older man, bald, with drab grey eyes and heavy jowls surrounding his mouth. He was wearing a white robe covered in blood.

  "Where am I?" he asked.

  "If you ask where am I, then you are home," the man said.

  Home? He didn't know where that was.

  "If you are ready, then do you remember the promise?"

  The promise? He remembered. If he was here, it was because he had fallen in battle. They had taken him from the field to heal him. "I need to report," he said.

  "If you need to report, then you are ready. If you are ready, then you remember the promise. If you remember the promise, then you can go."

  He saw a flow of water from a small pipe next to the bed. He slid off of it and onto his feet. His legs were unsteady at first, but he found his strength. He leaned down and drank from the pipe. The man waited patiently in the corner.

  "Where are my clothes?"

  "If you ask where are my clothes, then your clothes are in the room across from this one."

  He started for the door.

  "If the materials are gone, then I must tell you that you cannot be fixed again. If you cannot be fixed again, then the seven become six."

  He didn't know what that meant, but he felt it had meaning. "Who are you?" he asked, trying to remember the healer's name.

  "If you ask who I am, then I will tell you my name is Rossum."

  Rossum? It sounded familiar. "Thank you, Rossum."

  A slight smile creased the man's mouth. "If you say thank you, then I will say you are welcome, Talon Rast, First of Nine, now First of Seven."

  Seven? He remembered his brothers. That meant two had fallen. How? When? He opened the door and stepped out into a long corridor, lit by the stones embedded in the ceiling. He looked both ways. The door in front of him was closed. The door next to it was open. He didn't go to his room. He crossed to the other.

  A man was standing there, already dressed in black leather pants, a cloth tunic and leather vest. He was lifting a chain over his head, with a red crystal eye hanging from the end. He turned around.

  "Talon?" the man asked. His eyes shifted downward. "You couldn't wait to put on some clothes before you came over to check on me?"

  He was suddenly aware of his nakedness. He smiled and laughed. "I don't think I'm back to being myself again just yet. Are you well, Clau?"

  "As well as can be expected, considering I'm back in the infirmary." He lifted his shirt, showing him the stitches. "I don't remember the bastard that got me, but I can assure you if I find him, I'll return the favor."

  "Do you remember the battle?" Talon asked.

  "No. It must have been a big one to have brought us both here. Rossum says that there are only seven of us left."

  "Who has fallen?"

  "Feng, and Reyzor.'

  Feng? He lowered his head. They had grown up together. Known one another almost their whole lives.

  "We need to go into the tower and make our report," Clau said. He bent down and lifted his sword from the bed, strapping it around his waist. Talon wold r
ecognize Clau's blade anywhere.

  "Let me get my clothes on, and I'll join you." He retreated from the room, and entered his own. He put his clothes on quickly, the black cloth and leather of his army. The red crystal eye and the five ircidium bands that denoted him as a General. A sword had been laid out for him, and he picked it up and examined it.

  This isn't mine.

  He knew it instinctively. He wondered what had happened to his blade. Maybe he would know. He strapped the ircidium sword to his waist, and then reached up and pushed his long white hair back, tying it in a short tail behind his head.

  "I'm ready," he said.

  They walked together, side by side, in lockstep. They didn't speak to one another. They didn't joke. There would be time for that later. It was essential that they made their report to him immediately. Those were the orders.

  They moved through the corridors without thought, their memories guiding them through the passages. They didn't notice the ruined door, shattered into splinters. They didn't notice the body of the person laying inside.

  He noticed them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Wilem

  Wilem heard the boots on the floor. They weren't loud enough to be an ircidium man. The steps were too short and regular to be a monster.

  He opened his eyes.

  He had fallen unconscious, but for how long? He didn't know. What he did know was that Eryn had been a captive for as long as he had been out, and that truth made him angry at himself.

  Two men walked past the broken door. Two men in black cloth and leather. Two men with red crystal eyes hanging from their necks. One of them looked just like... General Clau?

  He shook his head, thinking he was seeing things. Maybe he was still asleep? He blinked his eyes, and pinched himself. He still heard the boots.

  "General, wait," he said, too softly for them to hear. He pulled himself up and grabbed the box. He threw it in Davin's pack, and then slung it over his back again. "General." He tried to say it louder.