Chapter 30

30

Y ou found the original spell already?” Ez sputters, gaping down at the piece of paper on the picnic table in front of her. “How?”

Roma fidgets uncomfortably with her hands, looking away. “I put the Sanctum’s spellcasters on the job. They, uh, might not be as into the nerdy details of magic as we are, but they can still get things done when they need to.”

“And how did they ‘get things done,’ exactly?” Ez asks, sketching air quotes around the words. “Because if they’re right, if this is the original rift-opening spell, then our work is already half done. All we need is the reversal?—and to activate it using the Deep’s magic?—and we’ll be finished. The epidemic will be over.” She snaps her fingers. “Like that.”

Roma grimaces. Right now, the two of them are sitting across from each other in a quieter corner of the Courtyard, taking advantage of a longer break to pore over the spell that Roma inexplicably whipped out halfway through lunch.

It’s only been two days since they confirmed that the Deep is even involved. How could the Sanctum have figured out the original spell already?

“It won’t be quite that easy,” Roma says now. “They, um. They found the original text of the spell in The Magic-Weaver’s Companion , so it was written before the WMSA. No printed counterspell.”

Ez lets out her breath in a hiss. “I almost expected that, actually. No one seems to be trying to exploit the chaos for personal gain, so it had to be a mistake. It just figures that someone was stupid enough to use a pre-WMSA spell without understanding the consequences.”

Roma winces. “Yeah. Looks like it.”

She seems unusually uncommunicative today. She’s not exactly a chatterbox under normal circumstances?—talking with her about anything besides spellcasting can be like pulling teeth?—but normally, she would be a lot more animated about something involving magic.

Especially something this important. “So?” Ez says expectantly, raising her eyebrows. “What was the trick? How did your spellcasters manage to not screw up for once? Don’t leave me in suspense.”

“I…” Roma’s eyes shift away. “I can’t tell you.”

Instantly, a hard knot tightens in Ez’s stomach. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t tell you,” Roma repeats. Her eyes are still fixed on her hands, shoulders hunched and head bowed. “It’s?—it’s Sanctum secrets.”

“Sanctum secrets,” Ez repeats. “Well, now, Gutierrez, you’ve been sharing Sanctum secrets with me for literal months now. I’m not sure how this occasion is any different.”

Roma scowls at the table. “Well, it is. This isn’t about the conspiracy. This is… something more innate to the Sanctum’s specific spellcasting techniques. Something we’re not allowed to talk about with outsiders.”

Ez’s stomach churns. She looks back down at the innocuous piece of paper, weighing her options.

On the one hand, her spellcasting instincts are telling her to run in the opposite direction. Most people in the community tend to be relatively open about their spells?—it’s safer for everyone that way?—so the fact that the Sanctum is apparently hiding their methods from the public leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Especially because Roma is one of the people hiding it. For most of this epidemic, Ez and Roma have been surprisingly honest with each other, working together first on the mystery of the neophytes in the Sanctum’s prison and then on the conspiracy in general.

And, above all, they’ve both been very clear and explicit about anything related to spellcasting. Hell, Roma had Ez check her notes just a few days ago. That speaks to someone who understands both the principles of spellcasting and its community on a fundamental level.

The fact that she’s purposefully hiding this from Ez now stings more than she wants to admit. But on the other hand…

Ez holds up the spell, arching an eyebrow. “You do understand that both of us are going to be affected by this, right? That both of us are going to be using this spell as a basis for our counterspell, and that both of us are eventually going to activate that counterspell using the Deep’s magic?”

Roma looks startled. “Yeah. Of course I know that.”

“Uh-huh,” Ez says. “And the Council hasn’t, oh, I don’t know, ordered you to die for the cause and potentially sacrifice Redwater itself just to take the East Coast’s best demon spellcaster off the board? To tap into an unstable magic reservoir with an incorrect spell, knowing that ends with both of us dying?”

Roma bristles, and Ez almost nods. Finally, a glimpse of Roma’s usual self. “I wouldn’t give you anything that could hurt you. And?—?” She lowers her voice. “And given everything we’ve learned about the Sanctum lately, no. No, I wouldn’t agree to a suicide mission.”

Ez’s eyes narrow. “But the Council might be willing to sacrifice you. They could’ve given you an incorrect spell with the knowledge that it would take you down with me.”

“It’s not,” Roma says immediately, and she flushes. “I mean, they’re?—they’re not. They didn’t just hand me the spell and expect me to take it at face value. I know how they figured it out. The process was sound, the magic was sound. The spellcasting was sound.” Hesitantly, she reaches out, tapping a finger on the corner of the paper. “This is the spell, Ez. I swear.”

Ez lets out a slow breath, casting her eyes towards the sky.

She doesn’t like this. She doesn’t like this at all. While spellcasting at a lower level can involve some guesswork and uncertainty, spellcasting at her and Roma’s level is an entirely different matter?—especially if they’re going to be accessing the Deep. They don’t have any room for risks or doubts.

If one tiny aspect is incorrect, it could be a death sentence for both of them.

“I’m sorry,” Roma says quietly, and Ez shoots her a sharp look. Roma’s eyes are fixed on her hands again. “That I can’t tell you how we came up with the spell. I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but??—?”

“No,” Ez says, and she scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “No, it’s?—it’s fine. I trust you.”

It’s not until the words are out of Ez’s mouth that she realizes how true they are. She trusts Roma Gutierrez. Not just during their rift-closing shifts, not just with their little conspiracy??—

She saw how Roma reacted when Naomi and Sawyer were willing to put JJ’s life at risk. At this point, Ez is pretty sure she can trust Roma with her friends, too.

Apparently, Roma is just as surprised to hear the words as Ez was to say them. “I??—?”

“With spellcasting,” Ez blurts out. “I trust you with spellcasting. So?—so if you say that the Sanctum’s methods are legit, then I believe you.”

Ez swears that she sees a flash of disappointment cross Roma’s face. She’s feeling more than a little disappointed herself, even though she can’t quite pinpoint why. “Ah,” Roma says, nodding stiffly. “Well, um. Thanks. For that.”

“Yep,” Ez says awkwardly, and she clears her throat, looking back down at the incantation. If she’s going to accept that this is the spell that destabilized the Deep?—if she’s going to accept that she truly trusts Roma now?—then she needs to put her money where her mouth is. “Do you have any extra paper? We can start drafting a few reversals with different magic bases and compare our results.”

“I already created a few,” Roma says, and she pulls a notepad out of nowhere?—or, more likely, out of her makeshift pocket dimension. “Our spellcasters gave me the Magic-Weaver’s spell last night, so I went on a counterspell-creation binge. I wrote one with a neutral base and two with human-magic bases?—even though you can’t use those, I figured they’d be helpful to make sure we agreed on all of the nuances.”

The words set Ez’s worries even more at ease. If Roma is already putting together reversals, that means she really does believe this is the correct spell?—she wouldn’t waste her time otherwise. “Sounds good,” Ez says, and she holds out a hand. “Can I borrow that? I’ll write out another three counterspells, and then we’ll compare.”

“Sure,” Roma says, passing the notepad to Ez with a pencil. “Here. Go nuts.”

Ez nods her thanks before setting the original spell on top of the pad, making shorthand notes in the margins and running through a quick nuance analysis. The Magic-Weaver’s Companion, huh? Who was reckless enough to use that spell book? Besides the fact that it doesn’t have any printed counterspells, it also doesn’t specify whether its spells are safe enough to perform over magic reservoirs?—magic reservoirs like the Deep.

It’s difficult to say whether it was a human or a demon who started this epidemic?—the spell’s magic base is neutral, so it can be used by both?—but whoever they are, they’re clearly an idiot.

Once she’s finished analyzing the original spell, it doesn’t take long for her to draft a few counterspell variations. She starts with two demon-magic bases as a warm-up?—like Roma said, they’re useful for solidifying Ez’s understanding of the spell’s nuances?—before choosing a suitable neutral base for her third attempt.

And, after so many years of practice, creating point-by-point counterspells is child’s play. When she finishes her last one and glances up at Roma, it’s to see that the hunter’s eyebrows are approaching her hairline and her mouth is hanging slightly agape. A spark of satisfaction dances through Ez?—along with a spark of something else, too.

Part of her really likes being able to impress Roma. She’s determined not to analyze that part too closely, though. Instead, she just clears her throat, tearing out her three counterspells and laying them in the middle of the table. “Compare?”

“Compare,” Roma agrees, ripping her own three out of the notepad and putting them side by side with Ez’s. Immediately, her eyebrows shoot up. “Huh. We used the same neutral base. You’re a fan of Blakeman?”

“Who isn’t?” Ez says, reading through their twin Blakeman drafts. Almost identical?—in fact, they only differ by two words. Ez taps them with one finger. “Why did you choose these? Other words would be more exact.”

“Syllables,” Roma says, pointing at the next line. “I wanted to make sure the pattern stayed consistent.”

Ez nods slowly. “Valid, but precision generally matters more than intonation.”

“Maybe we could meet in the middle?” Roma suggests. “Find words that are more exact than mine, but have more syllables than yours?”

“If we decide to use Blakeman, at least,” Ez says, and she turns to Roma’s other reversals. “I’m not totally familiar with human-magic bases, but I think most of the nuances match the neutral counterspell. Except?—?” She squints at one of them. “What’s with this wordplay in the last line?”

“It’s part of the base,” Roma admits. “Not my best work, but it was nearly midnight by then. I was exhausted.”

Ez blinks at her, surprised. “How long did it take you to make these?”

“Longer than the five minutes it took you,” Roma grumbles, and she skims over Ez’s demon-magic counterspells. “You even managed to rhyme this one. It reads more like a poem than an incantation.”

“The Johannes base is pretty flowery,” Ez concedes. “Not my favorite from a practical standpoint, but it’s a lot of fun to play with?—and it’s a good warm-up for other spell work.”

“Makes sense.” Roma’s eyes flicker up to meet Ez’s. “So I?—I guess we’re using the Blakeman base, then? Since it’s the only neutral base we both used?”

The words nearly make Ez choke. “Now? You want to decide now?”

“It’s not a varsity-level spell, remember?” Roma says. “At the end of the day, it’s just a rift-closing spell. The rift- opening spell was fairly basic, too?—just because it came from Magic-Weaver’s doesn’t mean it’s complex. So…” She takes a deep breath. “So, hypothetically, we could just try it and see what happens. Not to access the Deep, obviously, but just to close a mega-rift.”

Ez chews on her bottom lip, considering. Roma is right, of course?—just because the mega-rifts are being activated with the Deep’s magic doesn’t mean the rift-opening spell itself is dangerous?—but the thought of testing an unproven spell after less than ten minutes of work kind of makes her want to vomit. “Let’s at least wait until tomorrow before actually attempting it. I’d prefer to do a bit more research and tool around with some other magic bases first.”

Roma nods. “I’ll do the same. Maybe we can each bring another two or three counterspells tomorrow? And then we can compare them all and choose the best one?”

“Let’s stick to neutral bases, though,” Ez says. “We’ll definitely want to cast the same spell, not two separate ones. Attacking the mega-rifts themselves from different angles might work, but for this, we’ll need the synergy of demon magic and human magic combined in a single spell?—since the Deep is destabilized, it’s the only way to overcome the current power threshold.”

“Sounds like a plan. And, uh?—?” Roma clears her throat, looking away. “Thank you. For trusting me.”

Ez’s heart does something unsteady. What she wants to say?—the sentence on the very tip of her tongue?—is “Well, you’ve proven yourself to be trustworthy.”

What she actually says, though, is “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

Roma’s eyebrows pull together. For a few seconds, she searches Ez’s face, and Ez holds her breath, not quite sure what Roma is looking for.

Not quite sure what she wants Roma to find there, either.

The warm rush of power from a mega-rift opening has never been a more welcome distraction. Sucking in a quick breath, Ez pushes herself to her feet, haphazardly dropping her counterspells into a spare pocket dimension. “Well, that’s us. Duty calls.”

“Right,” Roma says, scrambling to her feet, and as Ez swipes open a transport rift for them, she suddenly realizes that it’s been a very long time since she had someone who could match the exact sharpness of her counterspells.

In fact, this might be the first time ever.

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