Curse Broken (Cursed Descent (MistHallow Academy) #3)

25. Matilda

25

MATILDA

My fingers trail along the spines of ancient books as I scan the shelves, looking for anything that might help us understand the power it will take to make the syphoning jewels redirect the unravelling magick. Draven sits at a nearby table, surrounded by open texts and scrolls, his dark head bent in concentration.

The library is quiet. The only other person here is Morrigan, who’s perched in the nearby window seat, a massive tome spread across her lap. She hasn’t acknowledged us since we arrived, but I can feel her awareness of our presence.

I pull another book from the shelf called Theoretical Applications of Magickal Redistribution and add it to my growing pile. We’d made progress yesterday before everything went sideways, but now I’m wondering if we were even looking in the right direction. The jewels had managed to syphon my Praxian power effectively enough—maybe too effectively—but using them to redirect and rebuild all the unravelling magick is a whole different level of complexity.

“Found anything useful?” I ask Draven, dropping into the chair across from him.

He looks up with a smile. “Just the usual shit we already know. It’s all about how magick naturally wants to flow together, not be separated by species or classification. Like it was before.”

“Yeah, tell us something we don’t know.”

“Exactly.” He pushes one of the books toward me. “This is talking about the natural state of magick—how it existed before we started categorising and containing it. But nothing on how to direct the flow through established pathways.”

“Same. I keep going around in circles. Every time I think I have it, I don’t.”

Morrigan looks up from her book, her green eyes fixed on us with unsettling intensity.

“You won’t find what you’re looking for in those books,” she says, closing the book with a soft thud. “The knowledge you seek isn’t written down anywhere.”

I exchange a look with Draven. “We know, but there has to be something .”

Morrigan unfolds herself from the window seat and glides over to our table. “What you’re trying to do has never been done before. No one has ever had to ensure that the magickal classifications stayed separate. ”

“So we’re wasting our time researching this?” Draven asks.

“I didn’t say that.” Morrigan trails her fingers across one of the open books. “But you’re looking for answers in the wrong place.”

“So, where do we look?” I lean forward, intrigued.

“You already have part of the answer.” Her green eyes fix on me. “The Praxian force within you is pure, undiluted magick. The kind that existed before we started drawing lines between different types of power.”

I feel a flutter of excitement. “The jewels were able to syphon it...”

“Exactly.” Morrigan nods. “They didn’t care what kind of power it was. They just created a pathway for it to flow.”

Draven straightens in his chair. “So if we could understand how they did that...”

“We might be able to create similar pathways for all magick to remain as they are without fusing back together and destroying the supernatural world,” I finish, the pieces clicking into place.

“The amount of power needed to create and maintain those pathways would be enormous. More than any single mage could handle.”

“So you’re saying I would have to sacrifice my power to generate the syphons,” I say with a sigh and sit back. “Figures that’s all I’m good for.”

“Hey,” Draven snaps at me. “Do not fall into a pity party for one. You are more than what they needed you for. You are everything.”

“Aww, so sweet,” Morrigan drawls, rolling her eyes. “But sacrifice is a strong word. You would have to give some of it up to power the rest, yes, but not all of it. It’s magick incarnate. It is power beyond the realms. There is more than enough to go around.”

The library door opens, and I look up to see Vex striding toward us.

“We need to talk,” he says, looking between the three of us. “I think I know what we have to do.”

“So do we,” I say, standing up. “We have to use me as I was meant to be used all along. As a generator.”

“What?” he grits out.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Draven says.

“Sounds pretty fucking bad to me,” Vex growls.

“Sit, and I’ll explain,” I say to him, taking his hand and pulling him down as I sit again.

Vex’s jaw clenches as he sits, his eyes dark with concern. I squeeze his hand reassuringly before launching into an explanation of what we’ve discovered.

Vex’s brow furrows. “So you’d be powering these pathways? For how long?”

“Indefinitely,” Morrigan interjects, her tone matter of fact. “The amount of power needed to maintain such a system would be enormous.”

I feel Vex’s hand tighten around mine. “No,” he says flatly. “We’re not using Tilly as some kind of perpetual battery. ”

“It’s not like that,” I argue, though part of me warms at his protectiveness. “I wouldn’t be giving up all my power, only redirecting some of it.”

“Some?” Vex scoffs. “How much is ‘some,’ exactly?”

I look to Morrigan, who shrugs. “It’s impossible to say for certain. The Praxian force is immense. It wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things.”

“And if Tilly dies? Then what?”

My eyes widen. “Wow. Okay.”

He grimaces. “You know what I mean. If we are banking the entire magickal world on your power, what happens if the worst comes to the worst?”

Unfortunately, I know exactly what he means. Am I going to live for aeons, powering this for eternity? What happens if I don’t?

“There is only one way I can think to get around that,” Draven says slowly.

“Well? What is it?” I ask when he lacks more forthcoming.

“We contain the magick that you give up into powering itself on a loop. There is a method in Hell that can create these loops, used for torturing purposes. My mum knows how to do it.”

I gulp and look at Morrigan to help me out with this one because I’ve come up with zero response.

Her eyes narrow as she stares at Draven, probably trying to ascertain if there is something traitorous going on here. “You mean it has to be kept in Hell?”

He nods .

“And if someone were to find out and get their hands on it?”

“They would no longer have hands. Or a body, or an essence. It would be trapped.”

“Creatures get through traps.”

“Not if two generations of the Devil power it.”

“Two?” I croak.

“My grandfather is still alive, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Your mum’s dad?”

“The former Devil. Grandson to the original Lucifer.”

“Shit. This could work.”

“This will work,” Morrigan says, getting up and coming closer. “But can we trust the Devil times two?”

“You can trust me.”

“Not the same thing, spawn. You have no power.”

“Look,” he says, rubbing his face. “You can bet your lives on one thing. My mother will give up Hell over her cold, dead cadaver, and that will never happen. She is true immortality. Her father is the same. If all the magick in the supernatural world coalesces back into one pure force, leaving everything in chaos and everyone running around with Praxian magick, how soon do you think it will take all that magick, in all those creatures to decide to try its hand at creating another gateway to Hell? Like a second. If that. It’s under control with Tilly because she isn’t a megalomaniac who requires dominion over the universe, Heaven or Hell. So if you don’t trust her to do this for the greater good of a realm she doesn’t care about, you can be damned sure she will do it because she cares about Hell and keeping it free from outside influence.”

“Necro’s got a point,” Vex says. “It may not be trust aligned, but it is still trust.”

I nod slowly, considering Draven’s words. He’s right. The Devil would have a vested interest in maintaining the status quo and keeping Hell secure. It’s not a perfect solution, but it might be our best option.

“Okay,” I say, “so we create this loop powered by my Praxian force, and it’s kept safe in Hell. But how do we actually set up the pathways to redirect all the magick through MistHallow? We can’t cut this step out and expect it all to be held together in Hell. That’s not practical. We can attempt the loop, but somehow, we have to get it back up here to keep all the magick steady. So how is that possible?”

Vex pulls something from his pocket. It’s a small, intricately carved medallion. “With this,” he says. “It’s an artefact that holds the combined power and knowledge of every Well that’s ever lived. If we can figure out how to fully access it, it should give us the ability to create a foundation rune here at MistHallow.”

“How do we access it?” I ask, leaning in for a closer look.

Vex’s expression tightens. “That’s the tricky part. Apparently, all of my ancestors have to agree unanimously that I’m worthy of using their power. And I have no idea how to convince them.”

“Well, that’s just great,” I mutter. “So we have half a plan that relies on convincing the actual Devil to help us, and the other half depends on getting the approval of a bunch of dead witches and warlocks.”

“When you put it that way, it does sound a bit mad,” Draven admits with a wry smile. “But it’s the best plan we’ve got.”

“So, what’s our next move? Do we try to set up the loop in Hell first, or focus on accessing the Well medallion?”

Vex looks thoughtful. “We should probably work on both simultaneously. Luc’s already gone to speak with his mother about taking Anu to Hell.”

“Wait,” I say, holding my hand up. “Are we seriously now considering having both Anu and this generator in the same fucking place?” I slam my fist down on the table. “No! No! I am not shoving the one thing she wants right under her nose! That would be the very definition of insanity. No. We kill Anu. There is no other choice.”

“You want to say ‘no’ again because I don’t think I heard it the first time,” Vex says with a smirk.

I growl, but he holds his hands up. “I hear you. We can’t have Anu there with the Praxian. It’s suicide. We need to come up with a different plan for Anu that doesn’t require killing her.”

“Why can’t you kill her?” Morrigan asks.

“She tied her life to Tilly’s,” Draven says shortly. “We aren’t risking it.”

Morrigan’s eyes narrow. “That is impossible. She is a goddess. She can’t tie her life to anything. ”

“What?” I jump on that before the guys can. “What do you mean?”

Morrigan’s green eyes fix on me intently. “Anu is a goddess. An ancient, primal deity. Her life force isn’t something that can be tied to a mortal’s. It’s not possible.”

“Not even her own daughter’s?” Vex ventures. “A demi-goddess.”

Morrigan shakes her head firmly. “No, it’s not possible. Even if you are her daughter, she couldn’t have done that. The power differential is too great. It would be like trying to tie an ocean to a raindrop. You would’ve been flooded out and killed at the point of the binding.”

“Even with the latent fraction of Praxian in me?”

“Even with that. It wasn’t enough. Maybe now it could be possible, but without the full force, there is no way you would have survived.”

“So she was bluffing,” Draven murmurs.

“This changes everything,” Vex says, standing up.

“Agreed. We find a way to kill her and remove her as a threat once and for all.”

“How? She is still a goddess,” Draven asks.

We all look at Morrigan. “Any ideas?” I ask.

She looks at the medallion in Vex’s hand. “Only one.”

Vex holds it up. “Then we need to get to work.”

“I’ll head home and fill Luc and Mum in on the new plan,” Draven says. He rises and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll be back soon. ”

I nod and watch him go before locking eyes with Vex. “Right. So choices that your ancestors will approve of. Any stabs in the dark?”

“One,” he says, gazing into my eyes intensely, sending a shiver over my skin. “Come with me.”