Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker Book 1)

by Linsey Hall

  Direct hit. He was out like a light.

  I tried to brush the green potion dust off my shoulder and reach back for my sword, but the potion bomb had turned my mind to mud.

  Shouts sounded from all around. Before I could reach my sword, a heavy arm clasped around my middle and threw me over a shoulder.

  Oh, this so wasn’t going my way.

  Chapter Six

  This was too real.

  Definitely not just an illusion—the castle had come alive.

  Pain sang through my middle as I bounced along, thrown over someone’s shoulder. I was being carried like this far too often lately.

  I blinked, trying to clear my blurry vision and make out what was going on.

  Everyone was dressed in old-style clothes. Like, really old style. But unlike the ghostly girl at the pub in Plymouth, these folks looked as real as me or Roarke. And they all smelled. Bad.

  Where was Roarke?

  I craned my neck, peering around, but the movement felt so slow and awkward, almost like I was underwater. Finally, I found him. Four men were carrying him, and still they struggled. Roarke was out cold, but he was a big guy.

  Before I could formulate a plan, the man carrying me stopped abruptly next to a stone wall. A door creaked open, and suddenly I was flying. I slammed to the hard ground, knocking my head against stone.

  The four men dragged Roarke inside. Before I could make it to my feet, a heavy wooden door closed, locking us in darkness. The air smelled stale, like this room wasn’t used often.

  “Roarke!” I hissed as I wobbled to my knees.

  The potion had me woozy, but I staggered toward him. When I bumped into his solid body, I finally had the presence of mind to raise my hand and ignite the lightstone ring that I wore.

  The golden glow illuminated Roarke’s still face and the powdery potion in his hair. My heart thundered, and worry made my breath come short as I tried to brush the powder out of his dark locks.

  “Wake up!” I shook his shoulder, still seeing double myself. This damned potion was strong.

  Eventually, his eyes cracked open and he groaned, then sat upright. He loomed over me, and I reached up to pat his cheeks.

  “Wake up, big guy.”

  He blinked, his gaze finally focusing on me. It sharpened almost immediately as he threw off the effects of the potion.

  “Where are we?” he demanded.

  “Locked up. No windows.” I shined the light around the room, revealing a small square space with one door. There was nothing else in the room, but there was a strange sense of residual magic with a thousand different signatures that I couldn’t identify. Like potions had once been stored here.

  “So this wasn’t just an illusion,” Roarke said.

  “Nope. The place came alive.”

  “That’s a strong enchantment.”

  “Damned good hiding place for the demon. He’s got his own security force and everything.”

  Roarke nodded and stood, then stalked the room, searching the walls and finally the door.

  “We’re stuck.”

  “Not for long.” He turned to me. “Try to figure out where the demon is. We need to head in the right direction when we get out of here.”

  I nodded and sat down hard on my butt. I needed all the focus I could get since I was still a bit off from that potion bomb. Even standing wasn’t super easy at this point. As I drew a deep breath, I focused on keeping my magical signature repressed while I called upon my dragon sense.

  It thrummed inside of me as I envisioned the Ubilaz demon’s ugly face, and I let my dragon sense roam. It tugged me from behind. And lower. Near sea level.

  I opened my eyes and looked at Roarke, then pointed to the wall opposite the door. “He’s on the other side of this wall. Low, near the sea, I think. Though I’ve no idea why my seeker sense led me here instead of there.”

  Roarke walked to the wall and pressed his palms to it. “This could be an exterior wall.”

  “That makes sense. When we first arrived, I wasn’t sure the demon was even in the castle. But he could be on the other side. On that piece of protected land that jutted out into the sea.”

  “Or down at sea level, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Give me a moment, and we’ll be out of here.”

  “A castle this age, the walls are at least three feet thick and made of stone.”

  “Not a problem.”

  All right. I stepped back instinctually as black mist swirled around Roarke. When it faded, the dark demon stood with his back to me.

  Up close, I could see that his wings were a million shades of gray and black, shimmering in the glow of my lightstone ring. Really pretty, actually.

  He reached up and gripped the stones like one would grip elevator doors to pry them open. A second later, there was an explosion of rock as he tore his way through the stone wall.

  “Whoa.” I stared, wide-eyed, at the gaping hole in the wall.

  In the distance, the black ocean roiled on the other side. He’d been right. This was an exterior wall built along the cliff.

  I approached slowly and peered left and right. In both directions, the castle’s outer wall was built up directly from the cliffside, which plunged into the sea below. When I peered down at the waves crashing into the rocks, I caught sight of notches in the stone wall. Like a narrow staircase.

  My dragon sense pulled hard, indicating that the Ubilaz demon was at sea level.

  The only way to access it was exactly the way that Roarke had—by blowing a hole in the castle wall. Maybe in present day, without the magic that had brought this place to life, this wall wasn’t even here.

  “Go.” His voice was far deeper when he was in this form, like gravel scraping against gravel. “The noise may have alerted the guards.”

  “Okay.” I climbed out the hole in the wall and stood at the precipice.

  I knocked on my head, then made my way gingerly to the stairs that were carved into the cliffside. One wrong move and I’d be headed straight for the sea, going way too fast.

  A door slammed, and I looked up, back into the room. Four figures streamed through the door.

  “Go!” Roarke yelled. “I’ll hold them off.”

  He grabbed one by the throat and threw him into the wall of the cell. Any hesitation I’d had about leaving him to fight four against one disappeared. He could handle himself, and someone needed to find this demon.

  Anyway, Roarke could just fly out of there if he didn’t like the situation.

  The wind whipped my hair around my face as I scrambled down the stairs as carefully as I could. I strained my ears to hear sounds of the battle above, but got only the sound of crashing waves. Wherever possible, I gripped stones that jutted out from the cliff wall. Dirt wedged under my fingernails as I clung on.

  By the time I made it to the narrow beach at the bottom, I was sweating. My boots splashed in the waves, and I hopped off the step. Roarke landed next to me, looking scary as usual, but completely calm. The moonlight glinted off his shimmering gray skin.

  Scratch that thought about him being scary. He was, but he also looked pretty damn good. In a monstery way.

  Apparently I was weird.

  “Get them?” I asked.

  “Yes. And I rebuilt the wall. They won’t be able to follow for some time.” Golden light swirled around him, and he shifted back to his normal form. “Lead the way.”

  I nodded, then followed the tug of my dragon sense along the beach. It was more of a narrow strip of pebbles than a beach. It wasn’t long before we turned a small corner in the cliff face. Ahead of us was the gaping mouth of an enormous cave, and my dragon sense went wild.

  “Of course,” I muttered. “The demon is hiding out in the creepy cave.”

  “He’ll know I’m after him. He’d want a good place to hide and a better place to defend. Be ready for him to have accumulated some demon followers.”

  “Not many, I hope.”

  “No, i
t hasn’t been long. There shouldn’t be many.”

  Magic spilled from the cave mouth, seething and riotous. There were many signatures, both good and bad. The smell of grass, sulfur, rock, wind, cookies, and perfume all competed.

  “There’s a lot of magic in there,” Roarke said. “Merlin’s Cave.”

  “Merlin?”

  He nodded. “Arthur was supposedly conceived at Tintagel. I’d heard there was a cave here called Merlin’s Cave. This must be it, considering the magic that surrounds the place.”

  “Yep. I don’t like it.”

  He grinned, then started forward. I followed. As we neared, the prickle of magic grew stronger.

  “Protection charm,” I said.

  When Roarke neared the mouth of the cave, he reached out, his face tightening as he did so. I’d bet being that close to the barrier was pretty uncomfortable.

  “It’s penetrable,” he said. “Uncomfortable, but we can make it through.”

  “You can’t break it?”

  “It’s strange. I don’t think it will shatter like most charms.”

  “So it’s meant to encourage you to stay out, not force you to.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then.” I gritted my teeth and started forward, pushing through the miserable feeling of the protection charm fighting me. Tiny knives stabbed me with every step, not leaving a mark but sure as heck feeling like they did.

  As I entered the cave, the dim light of the moon faded almost entirely. I blinked as my vision adjusted and raised my lightstone ring.

  It glowed, illuminating the huge space. The walls were uneven slabs of rock, with recessed, shadowed areas that made my muscles tighten. Wariness flooded me as Roarke stepped up beside me.

  “I feel the demon,” I said. “Sort of. He’s near.”

  “Perhaps—”

  Roarke’s words were cut off as figures leapt from ledges and crevices of the walls—two, four, eight of them. More. Demons of all shapes and sizes

  “Shit!” I drew my sword, fighting the urge to adopt my Phantom form.

  Roarke’s magic swelled beside me as he shifted. He grew larger and stronger, his wings flaring wide at his back.

  “Retreat,” he said. “I will handle them.”

  “No!”

  He pushed me backward, trying to force me to leave. I stumbled and hit a solid wall. My skin prickled fiercely. Surprise flared and I glanced behind me, expecting to see solid stone.

  I saw nothing but the rolling ocean waves crashing on the beach outside the cave.

  Shit. The protective barrier didn’t protect the cave from entry. It kept you inside.

  My heart dropped to my feet. “It’s a trap.”

  “Smart demon,” Roarke muttered.

  In front of him, demons surged forward. I counted more than a dozen. Some wielded magic as glowing light in their palms, and others were armed with wicked looking weapons.

  All looked ready for a fight.

  “Party time,” I said.

  Roarke turned and shot into the air, his wings carrying him toward the oncoming demons. He was massive and powerful as he grabbed two by their shirts and picked them up, then threw them into the walls of the cave as if they weighed nothing.

  I charged, my sword at the ready. One of the demons hurled a fireball toward me. I ducked, lunging left as it hurtled past me. The heat seared my skin.

  Damn. If I wasn’t careful, I’d get flamed.

  The fire demons had skin of a burnished red, and their eyes were pits of flame. I leapt toward one, dodging the fireball that he threw, and sliced out with my sword.

  It severed the demon’s neck, spraying me with blood. I gagged as the warm stuff hit my face and lunged toward another demon, severing its head. My borrowed blade felt awkward, but it was effective.

  In the air, Roarke swooped and dodged, taking out demons left and right. I spotted another demon and raced for it, dodging the icicles that it threw. It was a pale, icy blue color, not unlike my Phantom form.

  From the grin on its face, I could tell he was enjoying himself.

  Freaking demons. I hated the things.

  It danced backward, so I followed.

  It drew back a massive arm, then hurled a spear of ice at me. I lunged to the side, but it threw another ice spear.

  Damn, it was fast! I needed to shift into Phantom form, but Roarke would see.

  I barely dodged the second icicle when the demon laughed and hurled a third. The projectile was nearly to me when a huge dark form swooped down and knocked it out of the air.

  Roarke.

  I surged to my feet and leapt toward the demon, swiping out with my sword. I cut through his waist, spraying blood, and he staggered, shock plain on his face. I lunged again, piercing his chest. I kicked him in the stomach to dislodge him from my blade and whirled at the sound of footsteps coming from behind me.

  Two more demons charged, both armed with wicked serrated swords.

  My favorite. I loved fighting sword to sword.

  My mind cleared as they approached, the kind of eerie calm that was the product of years of practice. Whatever they were going to try, I’d seen it before.

  “Careful!” Roarke yelled.

  I laughed, and he growled in frustration.

  The demons struck at the same time, one going low and the other high. The low one came sooner, so I leapt over his blade, then ducked under the blade that aimed for my neck. Their hisses filled my ears as I crouched and spun, sweeping out with my sword at shin level.

  I sliced both their legs. As they staggered, I leapt up and finished the job with two well-placed slashes to their throats.

  This time, I even managed to dodge some of the blood.

  When I whirled to find more prey, I was feeling pretty good.

  The sight of another dozen demons hopping off the walls of the cave wiped that feeling away real quick. Behind the horde surging toward me stood the Ubilaz demon, bigger and meaner looking than any of his minions.

  The magic that swelled from him smelled like a garbage fire and made my stomach heave.

  I swallowed bile and raced toward the oncoming wall of demons. In the air, Roarke destroyed a demon with his bare hands, then whirled and dove for the demons who charged me.

  I’d nearly reached the closest demon when an unholy shriek sounded from behind me. It tugged at my memory, but before I could turn to see what had emitted the noise, something swept me up into the air.

  The world turned a shimmery blue as I was lifted, spinning high into the cavern.

  Panic closed my throat. What was happening? I could barely see. I was flying. I was lost.

  I thrashed, trying to break the hold of whatever had caught me.

  The sound of an unholy roar ripped through the cavern.

  Roarke.

  I screamed, trying to break free of the blue cloud that had enveloped me. But it was spinning faster and faster. I caught a glimpse of what looked like shimmery blue scales. Almost like dragon scales.

  Magic trapped me. Magic that almost looked like a dragon, with fangs and brilliant blue eyes.

  At the corner of my vision, I could barely see my arms, which began to slowly turn a transparent blue. Something tugged at my soul, a familiar sense.

  No! I was being transported. While turning into a Phantom.

  My heart thundered as I struggled, watching my arms fade even more. The tugging sensation grew as I spun and spun, like the magic was trying to pull me somewhere.

  A powerful force sucked me into the ether and hurtled me through space. I crashed to the cold, wet ground a moment later. My head spun.

  The blue light was gone. Darkness all around. Whatever force had thrown me here had disappeared as quickly as it’d come.

  Where was I? I struggled to clear my mind, but it continued to whirl. My vision blackened entirely as I lay flat on my back, unable to banish the image of the blue force that had stolen me from the cave.

  It’d been familiar. Strange, but familiar.
>
  Memories dragged at me. I fought them, but a vision clouded my mind, sending me back in time to three months ago.

  My deirfiúr and I were on an abandoned island off the coast of Scotland, fighting our way through a village to reach a huge manor house on the other side of town. The village was abandoned, full of creepy old houses that looked like the inhabitants had just walked out one day, leaving all their possessions behind. Magic seethed in the air. Wild, dark, scary magic that sent shivers across my spine.

  As we crept through the empty streets, ghostly forms drifted from the walls of the houses.

  Phantoms.

  I shivered. I’d never seen a Phantom before—only heard of them from Cass. They were horrible creatures who fed on the misery of others. Their touch made you live your greatest fears. It was a terrible agony.

  As they drifted out from the houses, the scene around us took on a haunted air. The sun had just dipped below the horizon so that the only light on the street came from the Phantoms’ ghostly blue glow. They crowded around us, dozens of them converging on the street.

  “Hurry!” Cass yelled.

  We needed to get past them.

  But they barricaded the street, blocking our way. My heart thundered in my ears, my skin going chilly as we became prey. When one of them grabbed Nix, she shrieked in pain.

  A Phantom dressed like a farmer swayed toward me. I swiped out with my blade, but it passed right through him. I tried again.

  Nothing.

  No!

  We couldn’t fight them. Our weapons did nothing to their ghostly forms.

  “We have to run through them!” Cass said.

  “We can’t.” Aidan’s face was etched with pain. “It’ll tear us apart.”

  The Phantoms surrounded us like a horde of zombies, their faces ravenous for misery and their claws outstretched. My deirfiúr’s faces were twisted with the agony of being near them, but I felt nothing. Why?

  “Turn into a griffin!” Cass shouted.

  “Can’t.” Aidan’s voice was tight with pain. “The Phantoms stop me.”

  One reached out, snagging my shirt and pulling me into the crowd. Its arms wrapped around me, enveloping me fully.

  It felt amazing.