Endless Magic

Page 70

I stumbled, unable to fight against the unseen power. I reached out for Talbott’s arm and he turned to catch me just before the magic pitched me forward and my face hit the hard ground.
“What’s wrong?” Talbott demanded, his eyes flashing with panic.
“You have to help me,” I gasped, trying to find the breath that was locked in my lungs. “The magic…. It doesn’t recognize…. me….”
Talbott understood immediately, or at the very least understood that we weren’t going to get anywhere like this. He reached down, swept me up in to his arms and then took off running again. Sweat trickled from his temple and his footsteps struggled not to stutter over the rough terrain.
I heard the moans and cries for help from the hundreds of prisoners all around us, and the deeper we went into the cavernous darkness, the more hopeless this environment felt. I sent my magic like a force field around me, but the underground power source seeped in, crushing my body in an effort to protect itself.
In India, that magic actually had nothing to worry about. If it would have left me alone, I would have gladly left it alone. This magic however, needed to be worried, I had plans to take this magic and the fight we had begun did not surprise me.
After several more minutes of Talbott sprinting through the prisons, we reached the edge of cells and Talbott slowed. I could feel his magic waning after what seemed like an invisible dividing line. He struggled to hold onto me as he made his way carefully further into the earth.
On this side of the prison cells there was no flat ground, no manmade staircase to make our journey easy. Talbott hiked over rocks and boulders deeper into the earth, closer to the cave that held this magic.
Talbott continued to struggle, and my own fight worsened. I released more of my magic into the air, but at this point the fighting energy was still an unseen force. It could attack me, but until I reached the source, I wouldn’t be able to effectively fight back.
Talbott stumbled on some rocks sticking up from the ground and dropped me roughly as he fell down next to me. I stood up, painfully brushing off the dirt, and reminding myself that I could do this without the oxygen that seemed to be entirely stripped from me.
I reached down to help Talbott up, but he did not move. Panic pricked at my neck as I realized he lay unconscious. I shook him, trying to get him up, but he did not stir.
I abandoned my plan and dragged him, over the rocky ground, and back toward a safer place. I shook him again, willing him to wake up. A tear slipped from my eye, realizing the urgency in my mission and the worry for my friend.
I sent the blue smoke against him, hoping it would work, even in this desolate place. Water dripped somewhere in the distance and I felt myself counting the drops as the blue smoke worked to heal Talbott.
After what seemed like minutes, he finally took a big breath, sitting up, gasping for air. Normally, I would have breathed a huge sigh of relief, but I still fought my own battle against the magic I had yet to properly meet.
“Eden, I’m sorry….” Talbott began, shaking his head. He seemed so disappointed, my natural instinct was to rub his back and comfort him.
“It’s Ok….” I wheezed. “I can…. go on…. from here…. You…. go…. unlock the prisoners,” I bent over, fighting the exhaustion from the effort. My head swam in dizziness and my lungs burned from the oxygen that refused to flow to them. “If I’m not…. back…. thirty minutes…. protect…. Kiran….”
He looked at me with heartbroken eyes, but we both knew what needed to be done. He nodded once, stood up and clasped my shoulder under his mammoth hand.
“Eden, we are counting on you,” he offered and I was thankful for his reminder that I was needed. He could have simply encouraged me, but the truth of his words would be what spurred me on and nothing else.
He took off, shakily at first and then stronger the farther away from the power source he got. I turned around, alone now. I shook my head and demanded courage. A year ago, I had set off on a journey that changed my entire life. A year ago, I traveled to Romania alone and took on the monarchy. Today, I was in the same place. Alone. Determined. With friends and loved ones to save.
I took one step forward, and then another. This magic was not my enemy, but I would fight it until it became mine, until it became the weapon I could use to destroy my true enemy.
If this magic’s sole purpose was to weaken the magic of others, then it was the only hope I had to hinder Lucan enough to kill him. I had no choice but to face this demon, this evil presence and make it mine.
I would worry about the consequences later.
Chapter Forty-Two
The power source stood in front of me, disguised behind a natural wall that blended seamlessly with the rest of the caves. I could feel the magic pumping and vibrating behind the stone, fighting off my very presence.
I stood, just barely, weakened by the already forceful magic and its strong hold against me. But still, on this side of the wall there was nothing to fight, there was nothing to see. I had to break through the stone and face the magic before I could possess it. It felt like every ounce of strength had been used just to get here, I had no idea how I would find the will to break through this wall, let alone fight the magic that would rather see me dead.
And then my thoughts drifted back to the fight happening above my head, those that I loved that died today or before today, to my best friend, to all the friends I made along the way, to my brother, to Kiran, to this life I now claimed as my own and I found my willpower. I found the drive to push forward and fight back for them. Even if this day ended in sacrifice, I would not let myself stop trying, I would not quit until my last breath was breathed and my eyes opened into an eternity that existed beyond this world.
I built my reluctant, tired magic, built it fiercely in my blood until it boiled and sizzled under my skin. With a scream that echoed through the cavern I threw every ounce of power I had against the stone wall. It bounced back, rocks tumbling from the ceiling and the ground trembling beneath my feet.
For a moment I felt defeated, I used everything in me and nothing happened, but my eyes focused on a crack not longer than my fingernail and I promised myself it had not been there before. That tiny crack was encouragement enough for me.
I shook off the fatigue and ignored the burning in my chest from lack of oxygen and built the magic again. I let it fizz and bubble in my blood until I was absolutely sure it was strong enough to make at least an identical crack. This time when I released my magic, I was confident more absorbed into the wall then bounced back into my face. Still the ceiling rained down rocks and the ground tremored in my efforts.
I brushed away the debris, and turned back to the wall. Spider-leg-like cracks spread from my original one outward in every direction. Success rippled through me and I forced myself to send my magic against the wall again and again.
I fought the fatigue that threatened my consciousness and refused to think about the struggle that still lay before me. Right now, the only thing that existed in my life was this wall and until I conquered it, nothing else could matter.
Eventually large chunks started to fall off with each pulse. First, quarter sized ones bounced off the floor and into my shins, but soon they grew to baseball size and then basketball size and when I sent my final burst of energy through a weakened hole it opened the space from my side of the wall to the other.
I pushed through the hole, making it big enough for my body and not allowing myself to contemplate what waited for me on the other side. When finally I made it through, a freezing cold burst of air hit me in the face. I opened my eyes against the blowing wind, shielding my face against a mustard yellow tornado three times my size.
The tornado whirled in one place in the middle of a cavern with perfectly rounded sides and ceiling. I stared it down purposely; it slowed its violent spin and seemed to face me. If it had eyes, they would have been staring me down, demanding to know what I wanted. So I stared back, forcing my lips into a smile and my magic to full alert.
The point of the tornado that spun next to the ground whipped in my direction to warn me first. Nothing would stop me from facing it down, not even a polite warning from the beast itself. Wasting no time, I sent a burst of blue magic into the core of the cyclone, hoping to break it apart, but instead it caught my magic and held onto me making my magic an actual, physical extension of my body.
I stiffened with panic only a second before the cyclone lifted me off the ground, using my own magic and threw me into a wall. My head smashed against the stone, and I heard my shoulder shatter before I felt the pain that flooded my senses. I hoped to be dropped to the ground, but instead I was thrown against the opposite wall, listening to my opposite appendages snap in the same way.
The twister wasn’t finished though, not before throwing my back against the high ceiling and then letting me drop to the floor in an insurmountable amount of pain. I cried out in agony, but my voice couldn’t be heard over the gusting, turbulent winds of the cyclone. The blue, healing smoke worked quickly against my bones and muscles, but not before the cyclone could attack again.
As I lay, motionless, on the floor the cyclone left its pinnacle and moved over me. I thought I would be crushed against the violent force of the rapidly spinning gales, but instead the tornado brought on a new kind of pain up until now, I never experienced before.
The tornado burned across my body, in a temperature so cold I thought my body would freeze and then shatter. I screamed from the terrorizing hurt, tears slipping from my eyes in a reaction to the pain that I could not stop. The cyclone zigzagged back and forth across me with a freezing pain so intense I felt like I was being brutally licked by a thousand flames.
My tormented screams echoed in the cavern above the tumultuous tornado. I rolled over; afraid another icy slice across my back would be the undoing of my sanity and stared up at the coming tornado with a mixture of fear and determination. I remembered the wind in India and how it tortured me relentlessly until my magic overcame it.
This cyclone felt a thousand times stronger and more deadly than India, and I was sure I would die in those caves. This fate felt worse than death, this battle felt more like a lifetime of suffering than the sweet relief of leaving this world.
I pushed my magic against the cyclone, staying its deadly winds for only a few seconds, only long enough for me to shakily stand up. When I faced it, eye to eye, I gathered my strength and then dropped my magic.
The cyclone flew against me with renewed anger and I took one flying, fateful leap into its spiraling winds. The wind cut my skin with its icy tendrils, setting my body on frozen fire and sending my back arching in anguish.
I opened my eyes in the center of the tornado, floating in the middle, the frozen air sucking the life out of me, breath by frozen breath. I tried to send my magic out of me, but I could not build its strength. The air was too cold for it to come to a boil, the frozen temperature magically seeped into my blood forbidding my magic to gather, freezing my blood in my veins.
I waged a new war against despair, against the defeat that resounded in the middle of the storm. There had to be a way, a way to fight the power that felt too great for me. I released the blue smoke that seemed impervious to other elements, hoping it would heal my frozen veins. The cold moved deep inside my blood, turning my insides to popsicles and slowing my heart. The blue smoke swirled around in rhythm with the cyclone, but did nothing against the excruciating frost spreading through my body.