10. Vex
10
VEX
Matilda’s right in the middle of this circus, rainbow light bursting from her like it’s nothing, with each pulse warping the air and messing with reality. My forbidden runes are burning under my skin, picking up on some power in her I obviously don’t get yet. Sure, she hasn’t flipped out or needed Blackthorn to save the day, which should be a relief, but that fucking death pact between them still churns in my gut like acid, eating away at my thoughts.
This should have been my problem. I’m a Well, after all. It’s part of the job description, even when it ends up ripping us apart. Seeing her go to him, not trusting me to handle it, stings more than any rune. Every time I look at Blackthorn now, I see the mark of their pact, invisible to everyone else but burning like a brand to my suddenly enhanced sight, which has sprung up out of no-fucking-where. I can see everything.
The chamber’s trembling, ancient stone groans like it’s had enough of collapsing magick. Dust and debris are everywhere, and reality seems pissed off with what’s going on. With my extra sight, I watch the centuries-old wards unravel like a frayed edge, their power threads just dissolving into nothing.
“We need to move,” Blackthorn grunts, power flickering as he and Xavi scramble to keep the place from falling apart. The strain in every muscle makes mine ache. “Immediately.”
I reach for Matilda, but the air between us ripples into bizarre prismatic patterns that hurt to look at. My runes flare up. It feels like someone’s pouring molten metal into my veins, burning from the inside out. Every beat of pain brings flashes of other places, other realities seeping through the cracks in our world.
“Tilly?”
She turns, and I almost choke. Her eyes are pure rainbow fire, but there’s more. There’s a power coursing through her like liquid light, marking her skin with patterns that mirror my runes with creepy familiarity. That Praxian force has stamped her as hard as my forbidden magick did me, and suddenly I see our powers syncing up, throwing off these unsettling harmonics in reality.
“I’m okay,” she says, though her voice is layered with ancient echoes, like a bunch of old voices all trying to talk at once. “We’re done here.”
Draven sidles closer, his death magick swirling around him like a messy midnight cloud. Through my enhanced sight, I can see that his magick is reacting to reality falling apart. Wherever his power touches, tiny rips appear, glimpses of the afterlife peeking through.
“Good,” I mutter, giving it another shot. This time, when my hand brushes her arm, power snaps between us like a lightning strike. My runes light up so brightly they nearly blind me.
The fabric of existence stretches around us like an infinite tapestry. Threads of power weave through everything. Each type of magick forms its own pattern, its own song, in the greater symphony of reality. But now that symphony is becoming discordant, breaking down as the barriers between worlds thin.
The curse’s damage is obvious now. We’ve created great tears in the fabric, bleeding different realities into each other. Through these gaps, I see things I was never supposed to see. The fires of Hell, burning with colours that shouldn’t exist; the pristine halls of Heaven, where light seems solid; and darker spaces that hurt to look at, places where reality has completely broken down.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, understanding finally dawning. “This magick is?—”
“Dangerous,” Tilly says, gripping my hand tighter. The contact intensifies the vision, and I stagger.
Xavi’s Hell magick flares as another section of ceiling threatens to collapse. The power interacts strangely with the tears in reality, creating cascading effects that ripple through the chamber. Where her light touches the gaps between worlds, new patterns form, complex geometries that seem to exist in more dimensions than should be possible .
“The runes,” I manage to say, watching as another tear forms near the ceiling, this one revealing a glimpse of what looks like pure chaos - a space where physical laws have completely broken down. “They’re reacting to her power. To all of this. The magick is becoming unstable.”
A massive tremor causes more debris to rain down. One of my protection runes activates without warning, the magick burning erratically and shooting out tendrils of lightning that slice through the air like razor wire. The forbidden marks buried deep in my flesh hammer in response, each one trying to activate in its own way. The pain is incredible, like being torn apart and put back together wrong.
The chamber is falling apart around us, and my runes are becoming more unstable by the second. The binding mark on my chest activates spontaneously, the power writhing under my skin like a trapped serpent. Each rune that misfires, sends waves of agony through me, the forbidden marks burning with particular intensity.
“Why are we still here?” Xavi yells, ushering us towards the nearest exit.
“Can you get us out of here?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Not yet. But I’m trying.”
“Fuck.” If the Horseman of Pestilence can’t move us the hell out of here, the magick dampener must be monumentally strong.
We run for the tunnel with Matilda leading the way. The power connection between us hasn’t fully broken, and I can still see echoes of reality’s fabric, still feel where it’s trying to tear itself apart. Each step reveals new instabilities, places where different magicks are bleeding into each other, creating dangerous hybridisations that shouldn’t be possible.
Luc’s magick is firing off in all directions, responding to the general breakdown of magickal laws. He throws up a shield as another section of ceiling collapses, but the energy splinters and cracks like broken glass.
“Move!” Blackthorn shoves us forward as a wave of raw power ripples through the tunnel. Each step feels like walking through lightning.
Matilda stumbles, her magick crackling around her in unstable bursts. Where her power touches the walls, reality warps and buckles. Through my improved sight, I can see the tunnel unravelling, centuries-old stone bleeding into other dimensions.
“The exit’s blocked,” Xavi calls, bustling past Matilda. The tunnel mouth has collapsed, massive chunks of stone sealing us in. Her Hell magick flares as she tries to clear a path, but the power goes wild, melting stone into shapes that shouldn’t be possible.
“I’ve got it,” Luc steps forward. But the moment his power touches the blockage, it creates tears in reality instead of moving the debris. Through the gaps, I catch glimpses of the afterlife that make my eyes burn.
“None of this is helping,” I snap, fighting to control my misfiring magick. “Our magick’s falling apart.”
Another tremor rocks the tunnel. Matilda’s power implodes in a mini meltdown as rainbow light fills the space, and reality buckles around us. She staggers but stays on her feet.
“Together,” she says, grabbing my hand. Power flows between us. The connection burns, but it feels right somehow. “Now!”
We unleash our combined power at the blocked exit. The energy tears through stone and reality alike, but this time, it’s controlled, focused. The blockage disintegrates, revealing the night sky above.
“Go!” I shout as the tunnel collapses behind us. We scramble up through the opening, emerging into the cool night air just as the underground chamber gives way completely.
The ground shudders beneath our feet as centuries of magickal architecture crumbles. My runes are still firing randomly, sending out tendrils of forbidden energy that slice through the air. Around us, MistHallow’s wards flicker and fail like dying stars. It feels like I’m walking through a dream and none of this is real. But we’re out. We’re alive, and now we have to figure out what the hell we’re going to do about magick coming apart at the seams.
“Vex,” Blackthorn says, gripping my elbow to keep me steady as I sway on my feet. “MistHallow needs a boost.”
I blink and try to focus, but it’s like being drunk. “You mean you need a boost,” I snicker.
“Whatever, fucking idiot. Help or have this entire place go crashing into the underground. ”
“Right. Help.”
“The gods help me,” he mutters as he grabs my hand and starts to syphon my power from me. He hisses and glares at me as it misfires and burns him.
“Hey, not my fault. It’s this clusterfuck,” I slur.
“What? What’s going on?” Luc asks, adding his power to boost Blackthorn’s as the academy teeters on the brink of collapse.
I laugh in delight when I see the wards snap back into place, holding it as it leans precariously, expanding like a rubber band. “It’s working.”
“I should hope so,” Blackthorn grits out as Xavi and Draven add their power to it. “We need to hold it until MistHallow can fix itself.”
“How long?” Matilda asks, wrapping her arms around herself.
“You just gonna stand there?” I ask.
Her gaze meets mine. “I will blow this place up if I add my power to it.”
“Stay back, Miss Matilda,” Blackthorn says. “We’ve got this.”
“Oh, now it’s Miss Matilda. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little death pact,” I accuse, knowing I sound like the idiot he accused me of, but I can’t help it.
“Shut the fuck up, will you,” he growls, and I let out a loud laugh.
“You should swear more often. It suits you.”
“Vex,” Matilda murmurs. “Quiet and focus.”
“Right,” I chuckle. “Focusing. ”
I blink slowly, feeling a bit like an owl as my brain scrambles around my head, looking for its correct position. The world swings around me, and I fight back the nausea. Groaning, my knees buckle. Blackthorn lets me drop and slams his hand to the top of my head. The rush of all that energy goes to my brain and electrocutes it. My eyes roll back, and I land face-first on the frosty ground.