Fairy Magic (15 page)

“I want to help you,” Cyrus insisted. “You saved me.”

“You just escaped a horrible situation. You almost died. All of the other prisoners
did
die. I can’t throw you into danger again so soon. Go home. Get some rest.”

“But—”

“Bye, Cyrus,” she said, then sped off down the road before he tried to jump into her car. He looked just desperate enough to do it, and the last thing she needed right now was to have a tagalong while she tried to save a Dragon Born mage from hell.

* * *

A heavy charge buzzed on the gate that surrounded Nymphenburg Palace. It was electrical, not magical, which meant she’d get to use Logan’s goodie bag of assassin toys. If she’d been in the spirit realm, she could have flown over the gate. She smiled at the memory of the warm wind tickling her wings’ feathers, of the world so small and far beneath her, of feeling so amazingly free. She could really get used to flying. It was too bad she couldn’t do it here.

She pulled a small device out of her pocket. Logan had said it was basically idiot-proof. It was time to see if he was right. She turned the ring, and the gate stopped humming. So far, so good.

Slowly, she reached her hand toward the metal bars. When the fence didn’t electrocute her, she grabbed the bars and pulled herself up the fence. As she hopped down the other side, the electricity sizzled to life again.

She ran across the grounds. There were no guards anywhere. Weird. If she were the head of an evil army, she would have posted guards.

She opened the palace’s doors and slipped inside. The place was still a mess. Glass was scattered everywhere, tables had been left overturned, broken dishes were strewn across the floor, and torn curtains dangled limply from the windows. The prisoners of hell slept amongst the debris, snoring loudly. Blood stained the vampires’ lips, mixing with the strands of drool that oozed from their mouths. Magic sizzled on the mages’ skin, sparking and snapping in time with their snores. It looked like they’d all just dropped to the floor after the battle.

Naomi snuck past them. Quietly, she moved toward the stairs. If Darksire’s soldiers woke up, she’d be in big trouble. She was alone in a sea of enemies. She didn’t have anyone else with her this time, and she wasn’t strong enough to take out so many opponents alone.

She moved into the basement, following a familiar trail of magic. She could feel the spirit realm calling to her through the tear in the veil. Hot and scented like the incense her Gran had used the previous night, its magic rubbed against her senses. She drank in its sweet spice. It tasted like the nectar of the gods with a side of chocolate chip cookies.

Naomi followed the twisting, turning strand of magic to the tear. She couldn’t just feel it; she could see it too. It looked like the air had folded in on itself. She passed through the ripple of magic. It felt like swimming in sunshine. It felt like coming home. And yet the world on the other side was strange. Separated from the earth, the first circle of the spirit realm was a distortion of the world she knew.

She stood in the hollowed-out shell of a building. In this realm, hell had nibbled away the walls of the palace until it was nothing but a concrete-coated hole in the ground covered by a skeleton of a building. There weren’t even any stairs. The substitute, a rickety old ladder that was missing half of its rungs, leaned against one of the walls. She climbed up to the ground level and passed through the remains of the palace.

Outside, the grounds were not perfect or pristine. The trees drooped at strange and unnatural angles, like erroneous strokes from a painter’s brush. A very drunk painter. An amber light shone down from the sky, bathing the world in an odd color cast. The sun was larger here—larger and more intense. A gentle wind cut through the trees, carrying that familiar sweet and spicy scent. It was stronger here, burning Naomi’s nose in a way it hadn’t back on earth.

There was no gate guarding the palace in this realm. She passed onto the cracked street, sidestepping potholes as she walked through the decaying city. She passed hollowed-out buildings, piles of debris, and the rusted remains of cars.

She could feel Makani. With every step that she took, the link between them burned hotter. Somewhere in all of this, there had to be a way into the second circle.

Nearby, something shifted. It sounded like clawed feet scraping over gravel. Glowing eyes peered out from the shadows of every building she passed. They glowed down from the treetops and through the cracked windows of the cars too. Monsters were everywhere around her. They must have felt her spirit magic because they didn’t come out to attack her. At least not yet.

Light flashed across her eyes, blinding her. When her vision cleared, she was somewhere else. She was with Makani.

He was running through a forest. Pain pulsed through the link connecting them—his pain. Dried blood caked his skin. Several of his ribs were broken, but still he kept running.

“Makani,” she said, running beside him.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her.

“I’m coming,” she told him.

He kept running. He couldn’t see her. Why couldn’t he see her?

Because I’m not there,
she realized. A fragment of herself could not jump to him because she was already in the spirit realm. Only her mind could drift to him, a ghost of herself without substance or speech. Magic sometimes worked in stupid ways.

She reached out, trying to touch him, but her hand passed right through his body. Makani turned to look in her direction, squinting at her. He shook his head. Maybe he’d felt a hint of the magic linking them, but it wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t see her.

Dogs barked in the distance, but they didn’t sound like normal dogs. They snarled like larger, more ferocious beasts. Their magic was thick and vicious, snapping at her senses like a jagged-edged blade. The treetops rustled with the movement of hundreds of bodies. A moment later, a stream of soldiers and beasts erupted from the trees.

“Hurry!” Naomi shouted at Makani, but of course he couldn’t hear her.

He did, however, see the men and beasts. He ran faster, pushing himself harder. The army was still gaining on him. In another minute, they would be upon him. Naomi’s heart pounded out beats of hard panic against her chest. If only she were really there. They could have fought the army together. They could have escaped together. Against such a large army, they might still lose, but at least they’d have a fighting chance. Makani wouldn’t be alone.

The beasts sprang forward, their bodies a hideous, mismatched blend of wolf and lion. Their matted, vomit-colored bodies jumped over him. He slashed upward with his sword, killing one of them as it jumped past him. But there were too many of them. They snapped at him from every direction. He swung his sword again, killing another. One of the beasts snarled and snapped its jaws, sinking its yellow teeth into his leg. He growled in pain, throwing the beast off of him.

Makani ran for the soldiers. They sat on beastly horses. Each one looked like a unicorn that had been soaked in tar. They smelled like burning asphalt and dripped darkness with every step. Makani knocked one of the soldiers from his saddle. He tried to grab the reins, but one of the other horses reared back, kicking him to the ground.

Makani glared up at the soldier. He was dressed differently than the others, who wore clothes much like Makani and his people. This man wore armor. It was dark red, the color of blood. It clung to his skin, thin but strong. There was something strange about that armor, something off. It sang a soulless, ancient song of cruel intentions and dark possession. Naomi shivered. Demon magic had made it.

The man looked down on Makani with hazel eyes freckled with tiny brown spots. “Give up, dragon.”

“Valin.” Makani said the name with intense loathing.

“You cannot run. You cannot fight.” Valin sneered at him. “You have lost.”

Makani rushed forward, but beasts and soldiers closed in to protect Valin.

“Coward,” Makani snarled. “You hide behind stone walls and large armies. And your demon master. You are too frightened to face me yourself.”

Valin jumped down from his horse and marched forward, his sword drawn. The crimson sky shone down on his golden hair, bleeding the shoulder-length locks red.

“Wait,” said the soldier beside Valin. “The dragon is dangerous. Remember what he did to Brant.”

“That was two hundred years ago,” said Valin. “I am not afraid of a pitiful dragon that hell has drained of his power.”

Makani gave Valin a look that made the warlord pause. A look that said he was going to kill him piece by piece.

“But we will chain him up and bleed him dry,” Valin said quickly, trying to cover up the fear on his face. “He doesn’t have any amulets to power him anymore. When hell has drained the last of his magic and he is helpless and frightened into submission, he will beg us for the mercy of death.” The words slid off his tongue with sick pleasure.

Makani stared back. He said nothing, but the cold fury in his eyes was enough. Even with an army of men and beasts at his back, Valin looked away from the smoldering gold glare. He waved a few soldiers forward.

“Tie him up,” he commanded them, then jumped back onto his horse.

The soldiers moved in. Makani pushed them back, but more were coming. The beasts were snarling, ready to take a bite out of him. Makani was wounded and alone. He couldn’t fight them all off. Desperate, Naomi tried to blast them with Fairy Dust, but of course nothing happened. She watched in horror as Makani fell beneath the onslaught.

Magic hit her hard, jolting her out of the vision and back to the decaying city. She started walking faster. She had to find him. She had to save him. She allowed their link to pull her in, to drag her along as fast as she could run. It felt like she was being pushed over rapids and waterfalls down a river—the river that led to him. She was close, so very close. She could feel the gateway, her ticket to the next circle.

She stopped. A gang of wicked cowboys stood in front of the stone arch, blocking the gateway to the second circle.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Welcoming Committee

THE FIVE GANG members standing between Naomi and the second circle of hell were dressed in trench coats, jeans, and cowboy boots. These cowboy gangsters were dressed far too hot for this realm.

“Hello, pretty,” one of the guys said as the others surrounded her. “We haven’t seen you before around these parts.”

“I’m just visiting from out of town.”

“We’d love to make your stay here comfortable. We’re the Welcoming Committee. We have a nice house around the corner. Lots of space to unwind.” He licked his lips.

She hit them with an easy, pleasant smile. “No thanks. I already have other arrangements.”

Her rejection flew right over his head. He kept moving forward. They all did.

“I don’t want any trouble,” she told them.

He cast a long, slow look across the length of her body. “You look like trouble.”

Naomi pulled out her crossbow and shot him in the foot. The bolt went right through his leather boot, pinning his foot to the soft ground. He let out a yelp. The other cowboy gangsters moved in fast. They obviously thought they could get her crossbow away from her before she got off another shot. They didn’t expect her to throw the weapon at them and blast them with Fairy Dust. As three of them fell unconscious to the ground—including the guy who was still trying to get his foot unstapled—the other two evaded.

“You have magic?” one of them demanded.

“I have magic,” she told him, then she shot her magic into his face.

The remaining man gave her a wary look. “You’re trouble.”

“So I’ve been told,” she replied.

She tried to blast the last cowboy standing, but he jumped aside with nimble grace. He darted around her, grabbing her from behind. She pushed against his hold, unable to break it. Her magic might have been stronger here, but that didn’t mean her body was. And the final member of the cowboy patrol was a vampire.

He held tightly to her, growling against her ear, “I like a little trouble in my life.”

She threw her head back, banging the back of it against his face. Instead of going down like any sensible person, he just purred like he’d enjoyed it. His mouth lowered to her neck. Naomi allowed her magic to roll across her skin, electrifying it with the pink sizzle of Fairy Dust. His grip loosened, and she stomped down hard with her heel, breaking free. She spun around and blasted Fairy Dust into his groin. He toppled over.

She stepped around his body and went to the arch. When she passed through it, however, nothing happened. She was still stuck in the first circle. She tried again. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, she brushed her hand along the stones of the arch. Magic buzzed against her skin. She could feel the second circle calling to her, but she couldn’t get there. The way was barred.

She closed her eyes, focusing on breaking through. She was a Spirit Warrior. This magic was in her, the magic to travel between realms. This had to work.

When she opened her eyes, she was in a forest camp. There were soldiers everywhere—Valin’s soldiers. She would have recognized that foul demon stench anywhere. None of the soldiers saw her, even as she walked right past them. One of the nearby beasts lifted its nose into the air, sniffing. He rose to his feet and padded over to her. He stared right at her for a few seconds, then turned and returned to his pack.

Naomi could feel Makani’s magic oozing out of the closest tent. She passed through the faded canvas and found him inside, chained to a thick pole in the middle of the tent.

“Makani,” she said, running up to him.

His gaze lifted, his dark, bloodshot eyes looking at her but not seeing her. His head began to droop, but he straightened as Valin and two of his soldiers entered the tent.

“Not so scary now, are you, dragon?” Valin taunted.

Makani stared at him. It was a powerful stare, forged from ancient dragon magic. It shook with unspoken threats. It screamed,
I am predator and you are prey. If I decide to kill you, there’s nothing you can do to stop me.