Wicked Magic

by Margot de Klerk

  A familiar voice screamed, “NATHAN!” and his concentration wavered, his energy-vision vanishing.

  Cynthia was against the wall to his right, along with her mother and several other people, including Kseniya. They were chained together with silver shackles. That was becoming a rather unpleasant theme today. There were six people in total, which struck Nathan as odd because magic didn’t like sixes—

  Until he looked into the middle of the room again and made out the seventh person, who was dangling from an ankle above the tree stump. The man’s neck had been slashed and blood was dripping from it, drip-drip-drip onto the tree stump.

  “This is heresy,” Aodhán whispered. “The druids sacrificed criminals, not innocent citizens.”

  There was no time to worry about that, though, because Cynthia’s cry had attracted the attention of the Sahir. There were maybe fifteen Sahir in the room, and seven of them fanned out and began chanting.

  “They’re making a shield,” Monica warned.

  “Can you break it?” Nathan asked.

  “On my own? There’s seven of them!”

  Hunters were taught the bare bones of how shielding magic worked: it was very energy intensive, and the best shields were maintained by multiple people at the same time.

  “Take one of them out before the shield goes up,” Mum called. Dad shot one of the mages. Nathan really wished he had a gun right now. The Sahir mage collapsed to the ground, but another immediately stepped up to take his place, the chant barely faltering. Dad shot two more before he had to reload. Adrian flew in to take out another, but he hit a barrier and collapsed back on the ground.

  The seven mages stood at regular intervals, their hands held out before them, silent spectres. Their shield was up.

  “How do we break it?” Nathan asked Monica.

  “Distract them? Kill one of them? I don’t know!” She was panicking. Nathan grabbed her arm.

  “Monica, you need to calm down.” She clung to him. Behind the line of shield-mages, the others were moving, removing the dead body from above the tree stump. Nathan could only imagine that was bad.

  “I—” Monica choked out.

  “Go upstairs,” Adrian said, without looking at her.

  “No!”

  “Monica, go. If you freak out, you’re going to distract Nathan and he’ll get himself killed.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Nathan said sarcastically. Monica took several deep breaths, then she hugged Nathan hard and pulled off the amulet around her neck, draping it over Nathan’s head. She darted out the underground hall.

  Nathan didn’t have a moment to feel relieved.

  “Take the next sacrifice!” one of the mages commanded. The leader, maybe? He was wearing a long black robe decorated with silver embroidery. Two other Sahir, one of them female, both wearing all black, jumped to carry out his command. They marched to the line of prisoners, and for a second all Nathan could focus on was the look of terror on Cynthia’s face.

  But she wasn’t the next in line. Kseniya was.

  They hauled her up and unlocked her shackles. Kseniya struggled weakly.

  “NO!” she howled. “You promised! NO! I did as you were asking!” In her desperation, she switched to Russian, alternating between cursing at them and begging for her life. She fought like a cat, wild and ineffective, scratching and kicking. The Sahir were much stronger than her. The man picked her up and marched her to the tree stump.

  “Shit,” Nathan whispered. “Fuck, what do we do?”

  Dad tried to fire through the shield, and the bullet ricocheted wildly into one of the walls.

  “Watch out!” Adrian said. “You’ll hit us.”

  Helpless, they watched as the Sahir wrestled Kseniya onto the tree stump.

  “Hold her down!” the leader said, raising a machete. He slashed it downwards. Nathan couldn’t look away.

  They had failed.

  All hell broke loose.

  The moment the machete should have contacted with Kseniya’s neck, the amulet she was wearing went berserk.

  Flames poured out of it. The mage leader’s robes caught on fire immediately. He screamed. Two other mages began chanting, trying to put out the flames, but they spread too fast, and all three of them ended up burning. No one was paying attention to Kseniya. She staggered upwards, grabbed the discarded machete, and sliced open the neck of one of the mages holding the shield.

  The shield collapsed with a tangible burst of magic. Smoke poured out from behind it.

  Nathan lunged in, taking out another mage before he could gather his senses. They had to move quickly. The tree stump had caught fire, the dead body was burning, and there were flames everywhere. The woman had had the shackle key. He cast around for her, but he couldn’t see through the smoke.

  “Fuck, Nate!” Adrian shouted.

  “Go!” Nathan cried. “You and Aodhán! Get out of here!”

  Fire was far more deadly to vampires than humans. It would kill Adrian ten times quicker than it would Nathan.

  Nathan didn’t stop to see if Adrian was still there. He ran to the prisoners.

  “Nathan!” Cynthia sobbed. “You came.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan said. “We were almost too late. Let me see the shackles.”

  But it was no use—they were chained to the wall as well. Cynthia’s wrists were raw and blistering where the silver touched them.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” Nathan said. He looked around. His parents were fighting on the other side of the room. Kseniya had vanished. Nathan blinked and then Aodhán was beside him.

  “I believe I might be of assistance.”

  “What are you doing here?” Nathan asked. “The fire—you’ll burn—”

  Aodhán ignored him. He grabbed the point where the chain met the wall with both hands and, with a strength Nathan had never seen before, yanked it clean out of the wall. A hunk of stone came away with it and clattered to the floor.

  Nathan grabbed Cynthia and her mother and hauled them to their feet. The other prisoners were a bit slower. He pulled them all up.

  “Go! Get out of here!” he said. “GO!” The last shout was to Aodhán, who sped out of the room. Nathan looked around, trying to catch sight of his parents through the smoke.

  “NATHAN!”

  Dad appeared beside him and grabbed his arm. “Come on!”

  They staggered out the door and down the hall, keeping low to try and avoid the smoke. Tears streamed down Nathan’s face. Finally, they emerged at the top of the stairs and stumbled outside, choking and coughing. Everyone had made it out. Nathan collapsed against the wall, weary with relief.

  “Nate!” Monica darted over to him, crouching in front of him. He was on the floor. When had he sat down? Nathan fought for breath, struggling against a wave of dizziness. After a few moments, he managed to reply.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Are you joking?”

  “Nah, I’m not Adrian.” Nathan grinned weakly.

  “Clearly not,” Adrian said, appearing behind Monica. “I’m not stupid enough to rush into a burning room.”

  “Haha,” Nathan muttered. He held out a hand and let Adrian haul him to his feet. His vision wavered, but he managed to stay upright. “Okay, we’re good.”

  “You’re going end up in hospital again,” Monica said. “And you were just discharged today.”

  “Poor Doctor Govender,” Nathan grinned. “He’ll probably retire in protest.”

  His eye caught something. Kseniya was lingering a few metres away, watching them. By her body language, she was about to bolt at any moment. Nathan pulled away from his friends and jogged towards her, and she immediately took a step back.

  “Wait,” Nathan said, stopping and holding his hands up defensively. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I have no choice,” Kseniya said. “Please!” She touched the amulet around her neck. There were tears in her eyes and her face was smeared with soot and blood.

  “It’s okay,” N
athan said, “just tell me what happened.”

  “They threaten me,” Kseniya said. “They say if I bring them your friend then they won’t kill me. But then they want to sacrifice me anyway.”

  Nathan sighed. Should have seen that coming.

  “It’s alright,” he said. “I think you helped us in the end.”

  “Is not me,” Kseniya said. “Your amulet saved me.”

  Nathan stared at the amulet, glinting innocuously around Kseniya’s neck. “Are you sure?”

  “You still don’t believe?” Kseniya asked incredulously. She swore at him in Russian, sounding like a spitting cat, and Nathan had to laugh. Maybe he was hysterical or something, but it was either laugh or cry, and Nathan wasn’t planning on crying. The fight wasn’t over yet.

  “Come on,” he said, ushering her back over to Monica. Monica pursed her lips at him.

  “Really?” she asked.

  “She’s as much a victim as we are,” Nathan said. “And we might need her on our side.”

  Monica sighed. Nathan left them to their less-than-happy reunion and went over to Cynthia. Aodhán had snapped the rest of the shackles open. Maybe vampires became more resistant to silver as they got older? Or maybe Aodhán just healed that fast. He certainly couldn’t have been held in the hunter prison. He’d probably have been able to break himself free easily.

  Cynthia threw her arms around Nathan’s neck, sobbing loudly. “I was so scared! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  “You’re okay,” Nathan said, patting her back awkwardly. “Um, Cynthia, I’m sort of… covered in sludge. You might not want to hug me right now…”

  Cynthia sniffled into his neck.

  “Yeah.” She pulled back, squaring her shoulders, and smiled weakly. “You kind of stink, too.”

  “Romance at its finest,” Nathan joked, and was rewarded when her smile grew a little stronger. She’d be okay. He hoped.

  Dad came over to join them, hanging up his phone. “Jason is getting a few trusted members of the Hunter Council to investigate. He’ll quarantine the area until the fire’s out so they can make sure we haven’t damaged the foundations of the building.”

  “Great,” Nathan said.

  “We’ll wait here until they get here, and then you need to go home and rest. You look ready to drop dead.”

  “I’m fine,” Nathan lied, standing up straighter. “I’ll be fine. Adrian?”

  Adrian came over. Now that the fight was over, he was watching Nathan’s father warily again.

  “We need to make sure we’ve actually foiled their plans,” Nathan said. “Is there any way of contacting the Council?”

  “Not if they’re in the meeting,” Adrian said.

  “They were doing some kind of channelling ritual on steroids,” Monica said. “I saw the circle when we first entered. They were using the sacrifices to power something. Or someone.”

  “But we cut it off,” Adrian said.

  “There is still one sacrifice,” Kseniya said quietly. “Maybe enough.”

  “Do you know what they were trying to power?” Nathan asked.

  Kseniya frowned. “They never told me. But I overheard a word, Belladonna. It’s a plant, yes?”

  “Oh no,” Monica said. Kseniya looked confused.

  “The Belladonna is the head of the Witch Council.” Adrian explained. He looked at Nathan. “You guessed the Sahir were working with the Witch Council as well.”

  “Yeah,” Nathan said glumly. A picture was coming together in his head, and he did not like it.

  “Okay—” Adrian started, and then he froze. His lips formed the words ‘oh shit’. “Nate, I need to borrow your phone.”

  Nathan handed it over. Adrian put the call through. It rang and rang, before going to voicemail.

  “Fuck.” Adrian hung up. “Damien’s summoning me. We need to go.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  NATHAN HAD NEVER CROSSED town as quickly as he did that day. Adrian and Aodhán ran ahead, and by the time Nathan reached the building, the two vampires had deftly dispatched two of the Sahir who were guarding the entrances.

  Nathan jumped right in and managed to catch one of the mages by surprise. Where the normal Council guards were, he had no idea. This coup was very well planned.

  “Behind you!” Cynthia yelled. He whipped around and managed to block a blow. This lot were better fighters. Of course, they’d kept their main fighting force here. A staggering blow caught the side of his head, and he stumbled.

  “Mortuus iacebat!” a voice said, and then a foul magic brushed over Nathan without affecting him. As one, his two opponents collapsed to the ground. Nathan blinked, trying to clear his vision, and looked at his saviour.

  It was a man, dressed in the black robes of the Sahir. He was about the same age as Nathan’s father, with blond hair and a square face, and he looked Nathan right in the eye.

  “You cannot enter the building.” He had an American accent. Somehow, the crispness of his accent struck Nathan. It was completely incongruous with everything that had happened today.

  “Try and stop me.”

  “I will not.” He looked past Nathan, to Cynthia. She stepped up beside him, jutting her chin out stubbornly.

  “Why did you help us?”

  The man’s shoulders sagged a bit. He raked a finger through his long hair.

  “It’s too long a story for now,” he said. Turning to Nathan, he added, “Keep her safe.”

  He vanished from sight—by now Nathan could recognise the use of an invisibility ward.

  “Was that—?” Cynthia asked. “Mum told me—”

  “Your dad?” Nathan finished. “Today’s been a pretty weird day, so why the hell not?”

  They rejoined the others, who had dispatched all of the Sahir guards and were studying the doors.

  “The doors are barred with magic,” Monica explained. “I think they can only be opened from the inside.”

  They all exchanged worried glances.

  “What about the windows?” Cynthia asked. Everyone turned to look at her.

  “Small, small windows,” Adrian said.

  “Not for me.”

  It hit Nathan what she was suggesting. “No!” he said. “That’s dangerous.”

  “I want to help,” Cynthia said. She glanced around and zeroed in on a pigeon that was wittering around by the fence. “That will do.”

  Her aura had been a replica of her cat. Before his eyes, it shifted to the pigeon. It was a pretty awesome sight.

  “Can you unlock the windows by magic?” she asked Monica.

  “I don’t think they open,” Mum said, studying the nearest one.

  “That’s okay,” Monica said. “Kseniya, let me channel you. I can make the glass permeable.”

  Kensiya held out a hand, which Monica grasped. She mumbled under her breath, and tapped the glass. It rippled like water.

  “Go,” she told Cynthia.

  Cynthia took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Everyone watched her as she began to shrink. Her body seemed to contort oddly, and a burst of magic sent prickles over Nathan’s skin. Then her clothes fell to the ground and a bird fluttered up from the pile of fabric. It took her a few seconds to figure out how flying worked, and then she shot towards the window.

  The glass rippled as she passed through it. Ms Rymes made a noise of fright. Nathan’s mum reached over and touched her shoulder. “She’ll be alright.”

  “She’s only sixteen!” Ms Rymes blurted out. “She shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  The door in front of them unlocked with an audible click.

  “Let’s go,” Adrian said. He exchanged a look with Nathan, who nodded and pushed the door open.

  The door led into the dark walkway that ran behind the tiered seating of the Sheldonian Theatre. As Nathan entered, a pigeon drifted down and landed on his shoulder.

  “How long can she stay like that?” Monica whispered. The pigeon pecked at Nathan’s ear.

  “I don’t
know,” he mumbled, wishing he’d thought to ask Cynthia these questions before they had to use her powers in an emergency situation.

  They walked down the hallway and entered the main theatre. There were seats for the nine Council members arranged in a circle. The Council aides were arranged on the tiered benches. Everything was eerily quiet. Nathan could feel the magic in the air, hostile and dangerous. In the middle of the circle was a pile of vampire dust.

  Nathan took in the scene, trying to figure out what was going on. Two of the Vampire Council members were locked in a glaring match with the witches. They were Ayotunde, an aristocratic woman of Nigerian descent, and an unfamiliar man whom Nathan assumed was Antonius. He had long brown hair held back in a queue, and the broad, strong build of a warrior. Only Jeremiah looked relaxed. He lounged in his seat, seeming amused and perhaps a little bored by the proceedings.

  The witches regarded the vampires, their robes obscuring their features entirely, radiating an aura of smugness. For the first time, Nathan saw the Belladonna in person, and he knew—without knowing how he knew—that she was both the youngest and the most powerful of the three. Her robe was pure black, not dissimilar to that of the Sahir.

  The hunters were sat with their backs to Nathan and his cohort, so he couldn’t make out anything of their faces, but he was relieved to see that Uncle Jeff looked whole and unharmed.

  “You dare threaten us?” Ayotunde demanded.

  “This is no threat,” the Belladonna said smoothly. “It is an ultimatum. The vampires have held too much power in this city for too long. The hunters feel the same. It is time for you to pass on the baton.” Her voice sent a shiver down Nathan’s spine.

  “You have some nerve,” Ayotunde said furiously.

  “This can be done peacefully, or it can be done violently,” the Belladonna said. “But it will be done.”

  “Ayotunde, enough,” Jeremiah said. “It seems we have uninvited guests.” He looked straight at Nathan, a smile playing about his lips.