Trigger Magic Page 3

  I hung back in the hallway, an intruder in a family moment.

  “Tell me again what happened,” Jane said.

  “I’m not sure.” Abilene’s voice hitched. “I think she tried to draw aether from the environment, or maybe from the ley-line. Then…nothing. I blacked out.”

  Jane said something very unmistress-like followed by, “That bloody fool. Doesn’t she know how dangerous environmental magic can be?”

  “No, she doesn’t.” Gavin pushed through the door, dragging me along. I hadn’t heard him come up the stairs. “How would she know, when you’ve done nothing to teach her?”

  I fought not to squirm under Jane’s glittering gaze.

  “I was under the impression that the Paragon knight was teaching her.”

  “Henry is a battle mage. He can’t show her everything, and you know it. Every child in this coven has a dozen teachers. Why should it be different for Bobbi?”

  Mother and son continued to toss arguments back and forth. Abilene fought for both sides, but I tuned them out when I got my first good look at Quinn lying in the bed.

  He looked dead. His bare shoulders were shrunken against the pillow, his face gray and slack. By the gods, had I done that to him? Had my ignorance and incompetence sapped him so completely? Dark hair fell across his forehead. My hand shook as I reached to brush it aside, revealing the jagged scar snaking into his eyebrow, a trophy from his battle with Koro at the cemetery.

  At least his skin was cool and dry. No fever, no sweat.

  “What’s wrong with him? Why won’t he wake up?” My voice cut across the argument and everyone fell silent. I looked from one face to another. Abilene stared at her pale hands. Jane glared at me. Gavin shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Quinn’s recovery will take longer,” he said.

  “The blast didn’t knock him out.” I tried to piece together the events, but they blurred in my mind.

  “Tell me what happened,” Jane demanded.

  I took a shuddering breath. “I remember plunging my aether into the ley-line. At least I thought it was the ley-line.”

  I didn’t think Jane could pinch her lips together any tighter but she did.

  “And then…an explosion. Abilene fell immediately. I didn’t see Henry, but Quinn stood farther away. He was fine. Until…” What had he done? “He tried to close the tear. And he just fell.”

  “My son has Mawr,” Jane said. “Did you know this?”

  “Mawr? I don’t even know what that is.”

  Jane pinned me with her gaze as if trying to pull the truth from me by sheer will.

  “That wasn’t a ley-line you tapped into. Somehow, you found the aether of another dimension. It must be your unique heritage that drew you to it.” Kudos to Jane for finding the politically correct term for demon blood.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Yes, well that’s a problem for another day. For now, I’m going to try and clean up the mess you made. With any luck, I can close that hole before anything really nasty comes through.” She turned and left.

  “What’s Mawr?” I asked. Gavin slumped in a chair.

  “It’s a mystical disease, contracted through a curse.”

  “A curse? Did I do that, with the explosion?”

  Gavin shook his head. “Quinn’s been suffering from it for years. He got it when we were working in Haiti. Someone hired a voodoo priest to curse him.”

  “I don’t understand. Why hasn’t he found a way to break the curse before now?”

  “The curse is only a vessel for the contagion,” Abilene said. “It delivers the disease then goes dormant. The disease is hurting him now. It drains his aether too quickly. That’s what the necklace is for.” She pointed to the petrified cockroach laying on his bare chest. “It’s an aether vessel for when his reserves run dry.”

  By the gods, he lobbed aether missiles at me all morning. Why didn’t he stop?

  “When he tried to close the rift, he overdid it, is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes,” Gavin said.

  “So replenish him. Feed him your gods’ water or whatever!”

  “It’s not that simple.” Abilene smiled sadly. “He pushed way past his limits. There may be internal damage—brain damage.”

  I shut my eyes. This couldn’t be happening.

  “We won’t know until he wakes up,” she said. We all understood the last unspoken part of that sentence.

  If he wakes up.

  Gavin and Abilene left to find breakfast. I wasn’t hungry. My stomach churned with suppressed emotions. I sat by Quinn’s bed wondering why I wasted so much time finding my way back to him. I held one of his hands, my thumb rubbing the edge of his palm with nervous energy as if I could rub the life back into him.

  His chest rose and fell in slow waves. Too slow. Other than that, he lay utterly still. My gaze snagged on the odd bug talisman. Quinn once told me it was a protection charm. All this time, he’d been suffering in silence. I touched the bug with the tip of one finger. It was startlingly realistic and pretty, if creepy. An inch long, the roach’s chiton body shone purple and green in the sunlight streaming through the window. How often had I seen Quinn grip it, seeking nourishment for his waning aether?

  “You didn’t eat,” Abilene said from the doorway. She carried a tea tray. “At least drink something. If you’re not careful, you’ll run your aether dry too.”

  I nodded and accepted the cup of steaming tea.

  “There must be a physician somewhere who could help him,” I said. “Maybe we can call one of the other covens.”

  Abilene shook her head. “There’s no cure. It’s amazing he’s kept himself alive this long.” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

  I moved aside. “I’m so sorry. Here I am hogging his bedside. Do you want to sit here?” Quinn adored his baby sister. Maybe her presence would win through the veil of consciousness and wake him.

  “You shouldn’t have come back.” Abilene’s normally animated expression turned grim and flat. I caught a glimpse of the hard woman she might become, the woman Jane was grooming her to be. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head, and the old Abilene returned. “It’s just that he seemed to finally be getting over you. But I think he needs you now, more than me. He might not admit it, but he missed you.”

  I nodded, letting my guilt be the instrument of my self-flagellation.

  Shouting from downstairs brought us to our feet.

  Jane came out of her study and met us in our mad dash to the kitchen where a young witch bounced from foot to foot.

  “Something came through the rift!”

  Chapter Six

  Battalion

  I HEARD THE BEAST BEFORE I SAW IT.

  A high-pitched roar, like a lion trying to speak whale, echoed up from the forest. Witches ran in every direction. Some had weapons—pitchforks, fireplace irons, knives—others only bare hands and magic.

  Henry and the remaining Paragon knights joined us as we ran through the village square. At the trailhead leading to the practice yard, a creature jumped from the trees. Henry cut it down with his sword before I even got a good look at it. A sword would have been a great idea. I had only a knife and my scattered wits to defend me.

  Creatures jumped from tree to tree. A few were ape-like with purple leathery skin and long arms. Others scuttled through the underbrush. They were furred, scaled or winged. A fat black beast resembling a razorback boar lunged at us. Henry’s training came back to me in a flash, and I kicked it in the head, putting everything I had into that strike. A shock of pain burst up my leg. The beast barely paused long enough for Henry to stick a blade in its eye.

  Henry winked. “That’s two for me.”

  I hefted my knife and smiled grimly. “I’m just getting started.”

  The beasts seemed more intent on fleeing than attacking. We ran on, stopping only to cut down the creatures stumbling into our path. Someone had lit the torches surrounding the pract
ice field, not for light but protection. The flames activated the sacred circle and the air was heavy with charged aether.

  A colossal brute stood beside the rift, flexing his massive arms in preparation for a fight. On the other side of the iridescent doorway, a sandstorm blew across the alien desert. More small creatures slipped through the rift and ran for the trees. The brute roared.

  “What is that thing?” I asked.

  “A minor demon,” Abilene said. Minor? The beast stood a full three feet taller than any human. Curved horns crested his head. Bony plating layered his neck, shoulders and arms molded with sinew. A face with bulging eyes, protruding brow and thick skin hanging in folds turned toward us. He opened his muzzle and bellowed again. Finger-length fangs dripped with spit over thick black lips.

  Above the uproar, a shrill noise like a drove of pigs all squealing at once shred my nerves. Someone threw a pitchfork, but it only clattered off the beast’s bony armor. He turned to assess the threat, revealing his back. The plating ended at his shoulders, and two rows of heads protruded from beside his spine. No more than hollow-eyed sculls, the gaping mouths were the source of the piercing squeals.

  Jane stumbled into the clearing.

  “That’s a berserker,” she said. The long run left her breathless. “See those heads embedded in its back? They’re running the show. Like parasites. They’ve taken over the demon and driven him mad.”

  Perfect. An insane minor demon.

  Abilene rushed over to support her mother with Gavin not far behind.

  “How do we kill it?” he asked.

  “We don’t,” Jane said. “As long as one of those sculls is alive, it will force the beast to keep moving. We have to push it back through the rift and close it. Until then it can’t leave this field.”

  Colonel Donner appeared and started barking orders. Two firebug knights lobbed bombs at the demon. A circle of witches protected them with a reinforced ward. Another young witch, just a boy, lunged at the demon and jabbed his foot with a spear. The demon turned and backhanded him across the field. The knights took the advantage. Fire exploded on one of the sculls and the keening shrieks ramped up. Abilene joined the firebugs, lobbing her flaming missiles.

  “Can I help you close the rift?” I asked Jane. She hadn’t seemed confident about closing it this morning.

  “Just get that thing into the hole.” She walked off with a storm in her eyes.

  I grabbed two women lingering on the edge of the melee.

  “Can you produce a personal ward?” One woman nodded, eyes huge with fear. “Good. Follow your mistress and make sure nothing happens to her.” The witches ran after Jane.

  I turned to the fight. Witches and knights attacked the beast from all sides, but it shrugged off their strikes. A man with a glowing blue sword had the best success, breaking the tough hide with one strike. I recognized him. Kirk was the blacksmith I’d spent time with during my first stay at the coven. His broad shoulders bulged as he swung the massive sword. He took a hit from the demon but shook it off. Sweat flew from his red curls. Black blood oozed from several wounds on the beast’s arms and legs. Kirk was trying to bleed him out. The demon tired of dodging the sword and grabbed the blade in his giant hand. Smoke curled up from within his grip. Kirk hung on and the demon flung him backward. He landed twenty-feet away and didn’t get up.

  Others took up the attack. Gavin fought with his flora magic, calling vines from deep within the earth to bind him, but the demon simply ripped the ropes from the ground and tossed them off. Gavin was undeterred. He kept at it, coiling foliage around the beast’s legs.

  Henry teleported behind him, slashed at the screaming sculls, and ported a few yards away to hack at his other flank. This attack-and-dash strategy kept the demon guessing and drew his attention away from Gavin.

  Kinetic witches lobbed stones that did little damage. The knights, led by Colonel Donner, struck at him with their swords. The firebugs ramped up their assault, but the demon learned to keep his back turned away from the flames. The sculls let out a new scream—a sound so high and fierce it raked along my nerve endings. And it had power. The sound seized me, and for an instant, I couldn’t move. Others around me were also affected, and stood immobilized. The demon lashed out, swatting witches and knights like flies.

  A firebomb hit the sculls and their sickening power released me. I fell and rolled as the demon swung his fist my way. Blood coated my throat, but I couldn’t stop to find its source. All my training seemed useless against this monster. I could kick a man in the face, but what good was that against an armored giant? I had no doubt it would hurt me more than him. But Henry also taught me to fight smart.

  I dove under the demon’s leg and jabbed upward with my knife, trying to penetrate the softer muscle behind his knee. He roared and swiped at me. The tip of his bony fingers clipped my shoulder, and I spun, dropping my blade. My arm went numb. Another flying body hit my knees and I tumbled over it, landing with my hands on soft flesh. I recoiled at the slack face staring skyward. Another dead witch, eyes sightless, head twisted too far to the right.

  Above me, bombs flared as the firebugs continued their onslaught. The battle raged on. The air stank of burned aether. No more vines hindered the beast and Gavin hung limply in Henry’s arms. A small band of witches protected Abilene, but one of the firebug knights lay unconscious at her feet. Either his aether was spent, or the demon had broached the ward.

  I couldn’t see Jane in the chaos. I hoped she made it to the rift and was completing the ritual to close it.

  Desperation fueled my limbs. I grabbed a discarded fire iron and lunged at the demon. His great fist rushed at my head. I ducked and came up facing the enormous back covered in sculls. Mouths gaped. Fire burned in those hollow eyes. The screaming magic slammed into me, stopping my breath for a moment. I swung the iron and it glanced off the demon’s scales. The backlash rang up my arm, and I dropped my weapon. I needed to hit the beast with something stronger.

  Henry taught me some fire magic. It was a tricky art. Aether burned with a wick right to the soul, and I could easily go up like a torch if I lost control. In practice, I could call up flames, but I had yet to hold onto a stable fireball. If I was going to do this, I had one shot. Witches kept the demon busy with assaults from all sides. I called fire to my fingers. They tingled with the gathering aether and I let it pool in my hands, willing it to coalesce into flame. The ball wouldn’t form. I struggled to hold onto the aether, but it started to slip away. In desperation, I grabbed the fire iron, plunged all that gathered power into it, and swung for the bleachers.

  White hot magic sizzled up the iron like molten steel. It slammed into the demon’s back. One of the sculls exploded in a flash. The iron’s curved tip bit into flesh, driving the burning aether deep. The demon screamed. He flung himself sideways, craning to reach the burning pain in his back. I hung on, twisting the iron to dig deeper. Flesh smoldered.

  A calloused hand grabbed my throat and slammed me to the ground. Air burst from my lungs. Black spots clouded my eyes. I sucked in pain. Crippling, searing pain. The demon loomed over me, pressing his weight on my chest. His eyes burned red. Saliva hung on the tusk-sized teeth. A drop of spit stretched and fell—oh, so slowly—to splatter on my cheek. It burned. He roared, blasting me with the stench of his gullet.

  This was it. The massive teeth would close on my throat and rip out my life. My hands rose to protect my face as if those thin sticks could block a demon’s wrath. My fingers latched onto his neck, flimsy digits useless against his armored skin, except a shock of power jolted up my arm. The demon flinched.

  Oh, Lord and Lady…

  Once, I drank the life from a wraith with my touch. Did I dare attempt it with a demon?

  I did.

  With both hands, I grabbed a spiny protrusion jutting from his collar bone and pulled with my will.

  Foul aether poured into me, tar black and tasting of charcoal. Power filled me, exhilarating and horrifying all at once. Som
ewhere far off, the demon roared. His pain became my pleasure. I reveled in it, sucking his life away. I lost touch with my body and all its aches and frailties.

  The magic continued to swell. It was too much! Too much aether. Too much darkness. And it kept coming. I couldn’t shut it off, couldn’t let go.

  The demon screamed as a fireball hit the parasites on his back. I screamed for his pain and became one with the demon, bound by our shared agony and wrapped in the aether I sucked from him.

  “Bobbi, let go!”

  Henry yanked me away. My grip slipped. The demon fell to his knees. Fire lashed his back. The screaming sculls died one by one, burned up from the inside. As their cries faded, the demon toppled face-first into the dirt. A dozen witches ran forward to hack at his body.

  “Are you okay?” Henry’s concerned eyes drew me in. I could see right into his head through those brown orbs. If I reached through them, I could easily snuff out his life. So easy. I had the power. It suffused me. I had only to touch him…

  “NO!” My voice thundered like a god’s.

  I didn’t want the power. It wasn’t mine and if I kept it, it would twist me into a shadow of the demon.

  I thrust my hands into the earth as if it were soft sand and released the aether. Magic streamed from me. The ground buckled and tore open. A chasm yawned at my feet and the demon’s corpse fell into it. As the last wisps of aether drained from me, I crumpled.

  I had nothing left.

  “Well, you made a fine mess.” Jane peered down at me. “We have to salt and burn the corpse.”

  I rolled to look in the hole. The demon smoldered in ruin, at least twenty feet down. I fell onto my back and stared at the impossibly blue sky.

  Chapter Seven

  Repercussions

  IT WAS ALL MY FAULT.

  Bodies lay broken around the rift and the new crater. A dozen of them didn’t move. Others moaned, shook or cried. I sat in the middle of this carnage, too weary to move, too horrified to look away. So much death. Useless death. People who had been alive this morning—eating breakfast, maybe complaining about strong coffee or sneaking an extra spoonful of jam—were now dead because of me.