Natural Dual-Mage (Magical Mayhem Book 3)

by K. F. Breene

  She waved at me to run with her, heading toward the huge ward that formed a sparkling dome around the whole Guild compound.

  “I got this,” Cahal said. He stepped away from Emery, raised his bow, and fired a stream of arrows faster than I could think. Draw, release, draw, release—the fletchings bloomed in chests and one in a neck.

  “Thank you for choosing my side,” I said as I took off for the ward. “Thank you, strange gift giver, whom I may or may not end up owing my soul to after this.”

  “Darius is going to call everyone to us,” Reagan said as she met me. “The attacking vampire host wasn’t as big as he feared, but they are at least middle tier and experienced. The elder in charge clearly wants the Guild to stay in control of this compound.”

  “I’m sure there are more; they just haven’t worked around to this side of the compound yet.” I looked through the shimmering ward, a collection of complex spells laced over that simpler ward that had protected the compound during our prior attack. My old friend, the watcher sitting up in the sky at the top of the ward, was still there. Its feet reached down through the ground, anchoring it. It hovered over everything, creating a hollow in the middle.

  Now that I knew something about magic, I could put knowledge to my gut feelings. And the watcher emanated a feeling of deadness. Absence.

  “Magic can’t thrive in a place with no life,” I said, losing the thread of the conversation, and my focus on the people around me and whatever was waiting on the other side of the ward. All I saw and felt was that big, looming beast, cutting the compound off from all the natural elements, and perpetrating the death and rot inside. “No wonder the mages are going crazy. They are magically suffocating. The lack of freshness, of magical wonder, is twisting their minds. They’re shut up in there with no idea what they are doing to themselves in the name of defense.”

  “That’s a poetic way of saying they screwed the pooch, and now they have to pay for their sins.” Reagan put her palms up next to the ward, feeling. “Wow. This is a beast.”

  “Let’s go,” Emery said urgently.

  I felt the shifter and vampire magic draw closer. I also felt other spells rise, called into creation.

  The phone in Emery’s pocket chimed. He pulled it out and studied the screen.

  “They are looking for a report,” he said. “How could they not know we’ve already made it this far?”

  “I’m sure they know.” Reagan sidestepped, still feeling out the ward. Her magic wound through the air. “If nothing else, they know that we’re some distance in. We killed everyone we came across. It’s hard to check in when you’re running for your life. Or when you have claws.”

  “Hopefully the mages inside think we’re all fighting the vampires.” I closed my eyes and sank into Reagan’s magic before fitting it with the ability I hadn’t intended to blindly rob from the goblin. Then I mixed in Emery’s and mine, working at the pieces like a puzzle. The trick was in creating the right blend.

  “What are you doing?” Emery asked me quietly.

  “She’s not working on this beast of a ward, that’s what she’s not doing,” Reagan said.

  “I’m trying to work all of our magic together to quickly erode this abomination and, if possible, point us to whoever masterminded it,” I said. “I can’t imagine a mage stupid enough to put it up without immediately realizing they needed to take it down again.”

  My phone vibrated in my hand. I sighed, momentarily distracted, before passing it on.

  “Good shot, Cahal,” Reagan said, clearly watching the show and not participating like she should. “Holy hooker stockings, Batman, you’re a freaking machine.”

  “From your mother,” Emery said. “Watch out.”

  “Oh good, yeah. Super helpful.” I pushed away the sound of my phone vibrating again. Pushed everything away. It was just me and nature. The wind at my back. The packed earth at my feet. The soft moisture in the air, silkily petting my cheek and frizzing my hair.

  I drew in a sweet breath, letting the life vibrate through me. Letting the magic I’d collected lead the way, moving within my energy.

  Electricity singed my awareness, like a storm on the horizon. Emery.

  Cold froze the air before swirling into flame. Reagan.

  A calm breeze moving a single leaf across a still pond. Me.

  The pyramid of power.

  “Use the roots,” Emery said at my ear. “Use the roots to anchor you.”

  I was already there, moving on to the next swirl of magic, solid and steadfast, ancient and fixed. A man trapped in a destiny he didn’t choose. A magic that masked the obvious, but uncovered the hidden. Cahal. The druid.

  I sucked in another breath as it all mixed together, around and around, finding a way to mingle. To coexist.

  I touched Reagan’s shoulder, knowing her hands were feeling out that ward, that her magic was worming through the fabric, trying to find a way to break it down. Emery’s rough hand took mine, giving me a greater zing of his magic.

  “Why is everyone touching me?” Reagan said, trying to scoot away.

  “The vampires and shifters are here,” Cahal said, and then his hand was on my shoulder, his fingers curling around my bones and digging in.

  “Hey, guy, I’m breakable,” I said, wiggling my shoulder. I didn’t think he was in touch with his own strength. Immediately, he loosened up.

  I felt Reagan’s power climbing upward along the dome. I branched it off and nudged it down to reach into the earth.

  “Who’s in charge here, me or you?” Reagan asked. It wasn’t rhetorical; she honestly wanted to know.

  “You. You’re more experienced. Unless I see something, then I’ll just take over.”

  “I miss working alone,” Reagan said on a sigh.

  A roar shook my bones and made me grit my teeth.

  “Steve has a great roar,” Reagan said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

  “Steve is such a mundane name for a roar that size,” Emery said.

  Reagan started laughing, and though her concentration seemed to waver, her magic spread out quicker, covering more ground and feeling out the spell in a way I hadn’t realized was possible. It crawled along like a live thing, tracing the seams and digging into the holes. She was identifying all the weaknesses.

  “Smart,” I said, accidentally peeling an eye open as Cahal jerked me.

  A vampire lashed at him, its jowls loose and hanging, fangs dripping blood.

  Cahal didn’t take his hand from me. He snatched a knife out of who knew where and slashed it across the vampire’s throat. Another claw came up, and I couldn’t help but react. Taking my hand from Reagan’s shoulder, I sent out a pure pulse of dazzling white.

  The magic hit the vampire center mass, knocking it back and opening it up. Black sludge oozed out of its middle as it hit the ground.

  Emery fired off another shot behind us, and my phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at it.

  “‘Hurry up,’” he read.

  “That isn’t very helpful, Mother,” I said through clenched teeth, shooting off a complex though one-handed spell that ended up a bit cock-eyed but worked just fine.

  Another vampire broke free, running at us. I called up magic, but before I could get it off, a massive lion (probably Steve) leapt forward from outside my line of sight. He slammed into the vamp, taking the scraggly, leanly muscular body to the ground. Steve’s incredible jaws locked over the vampire’s neck and he wrenched, taking off the head.

  “Wow. That is freaking gross.” I squeezed my eyes shut and turned back to Reagan.

  “What happened?” Reagan asked, and I felt her jerk around to look. “Atta boy, Steve.”

  The magic was at the top of the dome now, inching toward that strange presence in the sky.

  “No,” I said, leaning into her and pushing the magic around it. “Don’t touch it. Not yet. It has a…personality. It isn’t just magic. It’s more.”

  “Do not tell me that your weirdness is
going to come in handy,” Reagan said incredulously.

  “Hurry, ladies,” Cahal said. “We have mages approaching from the other side.”

  I snapped my eyes opened, looking at the approaching line of color as the higher-powered mages drifted through the compound toward us. They all had their hands up, and while they were too far away for me to make out details, I was sure they had ingredients in those hands.

  “Dolittle’s scapegoat. Go, Reagan. Hurry!”

  33

  “Do you need my hand?” Emery asked, his eyes widening as a vampire broke loose from the shifters and made a mad dash toward them. The enemy knew that Penny, Reagan, and he were the only way the group as a whole would get through the ward.

  He shot off a spell, raking invisible nails down the vampire’s middle, giving another shifter time to catch it before it healed.

  The vampires were few and far between now. The first line of attack (or was it defense?) was just about exhausted.

  “No, I have the feel of the magic,” Penny said, under strain. He could feel her splinter some of Reagan’s magic and use it as her own, shooting it deep down into the earth, looking for the root of the spell. The connecting threads. That technique shouldn’t have been possible. But then again, they’d been doing the impossible together from the beginning.

  Black fog clouded his vision. Magic zipped toward him from the side.

  He turned immediately as his premonition faded away, spotting a mage who’d just run through the ward and fired off a spell. He met it with his own, easily counteracting it, and then took the mage down.

  Cahal grunted as Penny shrugged off his hand. “Don’t use all your arrows,” she said. “We’ll need them if we get through this ward.”

  Emery gritted his teeth. It wasn’t time to pull the plug and drag her out of here. He wouldn’t let himself give in to his fear.

  Another mage ran through the ward. Two wolves broke off from the battle and ran at her. She dug through her bag with jerky movements, obviously not expecting the attack she was about to receive.

  Emery turned, leaving them to it. She didn’t have the wherewithal to get out of that.

  A vampire, scraped and bleeding from many wounds, slashed through a shifter and jumped beyond another’s reach. He sped at Reagan, whose back was totally exposed.

  Emery braced himself, a spell at the ready, but didn’t get a chance to attack.

  Cahal took two unhurried, though extremely quick steps to cover the opening. Knees bent and body relaxed, he waited for the vampire to reach him in a dead sprint. The vampire jumped at him, claws out, mouth open, drool hanging from its fangs in a thick rope. Cahal stepped forward diagonally, bending gracefully to miss a claw, before reaching forward and grabbing the vamp by the neck and upper arm. He spun, using the vamp’s momentum to redirect the creature, and flung him into the shifters running toward them in a herd.

  Once done, Cahal straightened, took two steps backward, and resumed his position at Penny’s back. He wasn’t even winded, as though he handled upper-middle-level vampires on a daily basis.

  Whoever had hired this druid had clearly paid out of the nose, and he had been worth every cent. Emery never would’ve defeated this guy if he’d accepted the other bid—the one to kill Penny—though he would have died trying.

  “Fracken crackhead’s pajamas, we have to break through this!” Penny yelled, sweat dripping down her face. He saw her glance up, then her body stiffened.

  He followed her gaze…and almost emptied his stomach.

  A seemingly endless number of mages walked toward them in horizontal lines, dressed in purple, red, and orange robes—high-powered magical workers, extremely capable, and sheriffs who were used to fighting under pressure. They’d increased their faction tenfold, obviously gearing up for this skirmish. Reagan, Penny, and he had a lot of power, but they were nothing compared to what was gathered within the dome. They wouldn’t be able to compete.

  “Just blow it up, Reagan,” Penny said through clenched teeth. Her voice rose in pitch. “Just blow it up, or we’ll need to move this operation elsewhere. Soon they’ll be within striking range.”

  “I can’t. That sucker up there is…trying to play footsie. What are you?” Reagan’s voice was wispy, all her concentration on her task. “I haven’t seen you before.”

  “It’s a thing. It’s a reflection of someone’s personality,” Penny said, still working on the root. She was closing in, Emery felt it, but they needed Reagan to crack the cusp of the spell. The watcher.

  “But it’s in the air,” Reagan said. “It’s just sitting on top of this ward. Or is it creating it?”

  “You want her to live, yes?” Cahal asked Emery, his voice low and smooth. If he felt any pressure from the coming danger, he didn’t show it.

  “Yes—”

  “Above all, you want her to live?”

  “Yes.”

  Cahal’s eyes flicked to the side. To the mass of power slowly walking their way, working on a monstrous spell, he had no doubt. They’d banded together to face a common threat. It would’ve been commendable if his people weren’t the targets. “I will await your word to extract her. I would take her now, but—”

  “No.” Emery knew Penny was there. Knew Reagan was close. Knew that if he helped, he could push them over the edge. “Not yet.”

  “I will wait. I will rely on you for her survival.” The druid’s ice-blue stare burned into Emery’s brain, and he felt the duty to protect Penny pass to him. Felt it slither in his blood and take root.

  Emery nodded, accepting the responsibility he had already assumed, before moving to Reagan and gripping her hand. Magic ran between them, the feeling strange and surreal.

  “That’s unusual,” she said with a furrowed brow.

  “Penny needs you ready, and you’re lagging. Show me.” He closed his eyes like Penny always did, focusing on what Reagan felt with her magic. Unbelievably, an image lit the backside of his eyelids. The top of the sphere, incredibly high off the ground, the surface pocked and the seams weak. Reagan’s magic had already eroded the weak points. But a glowing beacon sat in the middle, on the defensive, ready to react if foreign magic touched it.

  “You said it has a personality, Penny?” Emery asked, going through his huge Rolodex of spells. Thinking of things he’d personally used, techniques he’d only heard about, and the Guild’s unsavory practices.

  “Yeah. Here. Quick!” Penny sucker-punched him with something hard.

  He lost his breath, but captured the stone she’d thrust at him.

  “Plain Jane,” she said. “Your Plain Jane. It wants to be with you.”

  Emery didn’t have time for power stones now, but he took it anyway, trusting her.

  “They are advancing faster,” Cahal said, voice still calm, body close to Penny. “They all hold something in their hands.”

  Emery felt the magic building, felt a wisp of deadly intent, which meant Penny had to be drowning in it.

  “You’ve got thirty seconds,” Penny yelled at him.

  What sounded like a bear roared. Wolves growled. Air whipped behind Emery as if something had raced past him. A vampire, he’d bet.

  Magic shot close to them. Emery felt the pull to leave Reagan so he could defend them.

  “Let them handle it, Emery,” Penny said in an urgent tone. “We need you here. Help her get that done.”

  Penny knew him incredibly well. It was almost eerie.

  The stone throbbed in his hand. Reagan took a step back, her silent urge for him to take over. He kept his grasp of her hand. He couldn’t properly use her magic without contact yet. He was slow to learn Penny’s innate gifts.

  “What do you do, pet dragons?” Reagan muttered.

  The stone throbbing in Emery’s hand stilled his thoughts. Power pumped through his body. Like a heartbeat.

  “Blood magic,” he said, spells running through his head from a book long since forgotten. Something he’d found in his surrogate father’s room—a tome abo
ut circles and demons and bringing back the dead. He’d devoured it, fascinated by stuff straight out of bad horror flicks and gruesome tales told around the campfire. He’d even tried a spell or two before his brother had found out and ratted on him.

  “They sacrificed someone for that spell—tore their soul from them so it could be used as the watcher, the keeper of the compound. Living flesh would’ve gone into the spell. The victim’s screams. The blood of the lost.” Emery racked his brain, trying desperately to remember if he’d ever heard about a counter-spell. Or something to peacefully set it off. “Peace,” he said, ripping his eyes open.

  He wished he hadn’t.

  The mages of the Guild had come to a stop on the other side of the ward. One of the three barons, dressed in a blood-red robe, stood out front, leading the spell they were calling into existence. It was hidden behind a shimmering, moving wall of magic, but Emery could see it rising.

  “Shhhiii…” Emery gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut again. “Get ready, Cahal.”

  “Don’t you get ready, Cahal,” Penny said. “Emery has this. He’s right there. He has the answer. I feel it in him.”

  “Ra ra ra,” Reagan said, shaking Emery’s hand a little, whether cheerleading or telling him to hurry, he couldn’t say.

  “Peace for the tortured soul. Send the soul to its resting place.” He braced himself and reached out, finding Penny’s hand with the stone between it. Feeling a stronger force of serenity flow through him. Flow through Reagan. Sparkly white light danced behind his eyes. Deep black rolled through it. His grayish mutt met the two sides in the middle, and he held his breath. “Here goes nothing.”

  He took Penny’s approach—rather than attack the spell, he embraced it with her serenity. With her care and beauty and love of all things natural.

  “It’s time,” Cahal said, moving closer.

  “I don’t want to rush you, Emery, but hurry,” Penny said, and for some reason, that was hilarious.

  He laughed in deep belly chuckles as their combined magic surged around the watcher. The peaceful light infused the twisting and churning, anguished and decrepit spell. He wrapped it up snugly and sent the soul to its final resting place as Reagan stepped back into the ward and went to work, finding each crack and wresting it open. Lining the seams with fire or ice, depending on what was needed.