Chapter 3 Ban #2
It strikes the cave above us, making the space rumble. Spinning my staff in my hand I attempt to crush his leg with the base. He’s quicker than I expect for a self-proclaimed king, shooting blue magic from his hands at random.
I disappear, using the ice and snow to slip away. It temporarily disorients him, and his eyes widen as he takes in the new power. My ice magic is weak, and it doesn’t get me very far in a space this warm. “You have different types of magic.”
“I have many things,” I agree, materializing in front of him. He strikes at me and I do the same, sending my shadows straight into his chest. “You have something that belongs to me.”
Dima manages to swerve around the attack, snatching the book I discarded with one hand as he holds up his other, a ball of blue magic in his palm. The cave around us rumbles. He’s going to bring the whole thing down on us if we aren’t careful.
Fucking hell, Barty. Why did I ever listen to you?
I’m not going to die by being crushed for a second time. I can survive a cave-in; he may not, but it’s the spellbook I’m worried about.
“You took something,” Dima calls, turning in a fast circle to keep his eyes on me. “The needle in the pages.”
“A spinning needle,” I correct. If this came into his possession, how the hell does he not know what he holds?
“Ah,” Dima grumbles, glaring at me around the ball of magic. “I didn’t know its purpose, but the lady whom I bought it from said it was of utter importance. You know its origins then?”
So the oaf doesn’t know anything at all.
I nod toward the book he’s cradling like a prized possession. “You don’t have the answers in there?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, mage,” he hisses, baring his teeth at me. “You must be Ban of the North.”
I grimace at the old nickname. “Just Ban.”
“Just Ban,” he mimics, narrowing his eyes. “What’s an ice mage doing this far south without an ulterior motive? I know the rumors of the Reapers. You stay north of Icicle Pass and remain in the Frostlands almost exclusively.”
There’s a reason for that, but I don’t think Dima deserves an answer. “Give me that book to go with the needle, and I suppose I won’t let the caves kill you.”
He sneers, making that ball of blue magic bigger. If I had to guess, Dima’s magic is tied to his emotions; the angrier he is the less controlled it seems to be. “I’m not giving you anything! Here I am, trying to find a weapon of Death, and you walk into my caves like a gift.”
“These aren't your caves,” I say, tilting my head. “Delusion runs deep within you, doesn’t it?”
“I can use yours,” he goes on, seeming to be completely unconcerned with the danger he’s in. “I don’t see why a staff should make a difference.”
“My staff?” I ask, drawing back my hand. Even with the needle clenched within my palm, I can still send a viscous stream of ice in Dima’s direction. He either doesn’t battle much or isn’t prepared for the onslaught. He feigns, a bit clumsily, and drops the book altogether.
Perfect.
As Dima tries to deflect the ice shards, I throw shadows beneath the spellbook to swallow it into the darkness. There’s no reason to linger here once I have all that I need.
A screech leaves me as some weird, fat bird barrels into my leg. I make a slashing motion with my hand, determined to cut off its head. It distracts me from sucking the damned book into the shadows, but I do get a good look at the creature for a moment.
What the hell is wrong with this bird?
It doesn’t seem to even notice the impact of my ice into its feathered body, and it opens its unnaturally large jaws to reveal a maw of jagged, horrendous teeth. I glide backward into the shadows before the thing takes a bite out of me, stumbling into something else.
For fuck’s sake, why is this place such a clusterfuck?
“Take the staff, save for last.” Something thick wraps around each of my wrists, and I immediately call the ice magic forward to freeze the restrictive coils.
When I glance down they appear green, and it clicks in my mind what the beast behind me is before I try to hit the damned bird again with my weapon.
Spinning, I thrust the top of my staff into the Flowerborne behind me, the eerie head and unnatural limbs catching my attention before pained wails escape its mouth. I’ve shattered the vines, more or less ripping off its arms, and it lets out a pitiful scream at the agony.
I can’t stand Flowerborne. This one either escaped its cage, or it was loose in this cavern the entire time.
Despite its pain, the Flowerborne is a distraction, and the bird trying to take a bite out of me for a third time nearly succeeds. Deciding to hide in the shadows again until I can take what I need, I feel myself gliding back into its protective hold.
A blue ball of light slams painfully into my body. It knocks the wind out of me, cutting into my concentration of magic, and the shadows disappear instead of sucking me in.
When the damned bird tries to attack me, I use the end of the staff and throw it for distance. It’s enough time to give the injured Flowerborne a chance to grab me from behind, wrestling me in a circle as it tries to gain the upper hand.
There’s a knife at my hip, but I can’t grab it and keep this monster from trying to strangle me. I also won’t dare bring the Flowerborne into the shadows, where he would be temporarily safe just like me.
Dima is the kind of person I imagine stabs people in the back, and as I grapple with the Flowerborne, another burst of blue energy strikes us both, propelling us into one of the cavern openings nearby.
We soar through the air for a moment before crashing into the wall, my staff crashing nearby but out of reach.
Snapping back my head, I catch the monster in the face, pivoting as I plant one hand on its head and force ice into the flower.
In a matter of seconds it freezes solid, the same amount of time that it takes for a wooden grate to slam over the opening in front of me.
I growl, shoving the Flowerborne away with all my might.
It's thrown away, face completely frozen, and it shatters against the grate with a zap of blue light before the dead plant tumbles to the ground.
My nose twitches as I shove my hair out of the way, immediately looking for my staff. It isn’t in here, and I don’t remember how far away I dropped it.
As I open and close my palm, dread hits me.
I dropped the spinning needle as well during our scuffle it seems. I should have forced it into the shadows the moment I met Dima.
That damn needle is the only reason I’m this far south.
Now it’s somewhere in the main room. Moving to the wooden grate covering the opening of this mini-cave, I throw one hand forward, intent on blowing the obstacle out of the way.
The grate turns blue but doesn’t budge. Frowning, I let the shadows settle over me and decide to step into them to get out of here.
Unfortunately, there’s something wrong with this space. As I step into the shadows a tremendous amount of force hits me out of nowhere, pure energy sizzling through the air and hitting me square in the chest, shoving me out of the darkness without permission. As I stumble back again, my eyes widen.
That’s never happened before. Even when they were new to me, the shadows have always listened. I’ve never met a type of magic that can force me out of them.
“You hurt Aggie!” Dima’s voice snarls, carrying through the room.
I grunt and reach for the bars, sealing my hands over the wooden slats. The same energy sizzles out, lighting up the space, and I grit my teeth to keep from screaming at the sudden pain. After ripping my hands away, I stare down at them.
There’s black blood where the magic burned my skin away. I use some of my ice to soothe the pain, unable to avoid the smell of burnt flesh and dead plants all around me. Even as I use my ice powers, something that has yet to fail me after all these years, I find myself growing weak.
This can’t be happening.
“You can keep throwing magic at the bars if you want,” Dima growls, appearing on the other side of the grate.
He’s holding the book again, and twirling the spinning needle I dropped.
“It won’t do any good. I did a lot of research learning how to trap anyone, magic user or otherwise, within these mini-caves. ”
“A makeshift prison?” I ask dryly, clenching and unclenching my hands. My palms burn, but already the pain is dull. As annoying as his magic trick is, the effects aren’t long-lasting. At least not on me.
“Something like that,” he says, shooting me a grin. “But you hurt my poor Aggie, and for that you’ll pay.”
“The bird?” I guess.
“Indeed.” He spins the needle once more before turning to set both that and the spellbook down. When he’s fully in my view again, he’s holding my staff.
I bare my teeth at him. “That’s not yours.”
“Now it is,” he says delightedly. “Since, you see, you are in there. You’re my prisoner now, Ban. That magic of yours will be mine too.”
“These cages are enchanted, nothing more,” I say, narrowing my eyes. “I’ll be out before you know it.”
“Ah, but the cages are built to sap your energy.” He grins widely, showing off far too many teeth to make that smile anything less than creepy. “You can fight it, but the enchantment is a good one, even if you think little of it. You aren’t getting out of there anytime soon, Frosty.”
I snarl. “Don’t call me Frosty.”
Shrugging, he steps closer to the wooden covering until he can lean my staff against the bars.
It sizzles on contact, and he gives me a pointed look before pulling it away again.
“You’re here for a reason, aren’t you, Ban?
You came all this way from the Frostlands for a needle?
That’s the story I told Barty to share. We made a deal, you see. ”
I mentally berate the spirit. Oh Barty, you son of a bitch. “Does it matter, wizard?”
He shrugs. “It should to you. I’ll let you out of there in due time, Frosty. Make no mistake about it. I might even be kind and give you the needle you seek so badly.”
Now he’s toying with me. “And what, pray tell, do you expect in return?”
Dima’s blue eyes shine the same color as that uncontrollable magic of his. “You, ice mage, are going to let me see how much pain Death can withstand.”