Chapter 80 Nox
Nox
“That magic-siphoning spell we told you about?” Arowyn said. “It started way down in the Hollow and has already reached the surface. Unless someone knows where that creepy Alchemist went, we don’t know how to stop it.”
I released my sister. “What are you saying?”
“It’s spreading,” Arowyn explained exasperatedly. “Quickly. Like, too quickly. It was slow enough for Devora and me to outrace it at first, but now…” She bit her lip and glanced off toward the west, where the stables lay. “Can’t you feel it?”
It was difficult to feel anything after the events of the last few minutes, but as I looked beyond her to the battlefield, something in my magic stirred. There was a shift in the air, a different type of urgency unrelated to the mutants and the smell of bloodshed.
Something darker. Thick and pungent, hanging heavy in the night and slowly coiling around the property.
Dark magic.
“It’s bad, Nox,” Devora whispered at my side. My eyes hovered over her downturned lips and scared eyes. “It’s like the fatesprig, except everywhere. The second we came into contact with it, our magic was gone.”
“We have to get the others,” I said, gaze snapping to my Ashen Order still fighting in the courtyard, unaware of Scarven’s death and the new threat lurking around the corner.
“Wait, Nox, I’ve been thinking about it, and—”
Arowyn tried to get my attention, but I was already halfway to the battlefield. My people had certainly held their own against the swarm of mutants and Scarven’s men. But as we got closer, I no longer saw clashing swords and whirling magic.
The remaining mutated Veridians stood in the aftermath, smoke and the occasional crackle of flames wavering in the air.
Weapons hung at their side as they glanced at one another in confusion.
One half tiger, half antelope had its horns locked with the unmistakable form of Kieran’s white stag.
It dropped its head and stumbled backward, shifting into a frightened teenage boy.
A boy. Barely older than I’d been when Scarven captured me.
That was who he had fighting for him. Innocent victims who were forced into a battle they wanted no part in. Pawns in his schemes, disposable property he experimented on and sent out to do his dirty work.
Just like me.
All around us, swords dropped to the ground, a slow wave of surrender rolling over the courtyard. It seemed whatever hold Scarven had over them had faded with his death.
Rose stepped out of the fray. “Nice of you to join us,” she called out to me in her sarcastic tone.
Behind her, Leo knelt over Tessa, hands hovering above her arm and lips moving with wordless spells. To the right stood Thecae, with his thick, menacing shadows binding several of Scarven’s men. Dark wisps of rope were wrapped around their arms and stuffed in their mouths to gag them.
An overwhelming sense of gratitude flooded me. They made it. Arowyn’s messages worked. I wasn’t sure when I sent her to deliver warnings to both the capital city and to Tenebra if they would have enough time to get here, but they had come through for us.
Kieran bounded forward in his stag form and shifted mid-stride. “What happened?” he asked sharply.
“Scarven is dead,” I said, barely believing my own words. His eyes widened. “But we’re not done yet. The original plan is still in place. We need to destroy the Hollow.”
That was the only way I could think of to get rid of the fatesprig supply before Malek Mortep came back to finish his master’s job, and to end this siphoning spell he cast over the place.
I gazed out onto the courtyard at the dozen or so mutated Veridians, then to our own wounded, and to the hordes of ragged prisoners clustered at the edge of the forest behind them all.
“Your master is dead,” I called out, my voice carrying over the distance.
At my side, Vera raised Scarven’s head, and the entire courtyard sucked in a breath.
I met each of their stares, both ally and foe, as I said, “We know what he did to you. We know how you’ve suffered, and that many of you are just as much a victim as we are. There doesn’t need to be any more bloodshed tonight. We want to help you, but we have to work together for what comes next.
“There’s a powerful spell that Scarven’s Alchemist cast before he fled. One that can take away our magic.” My words were met with quickening heartbeats and uncomfortable shifting. “We need to get everyone as far away from the property as possible.”
“About that—” Arowyn started, but I turned to my Order to dole out instructions, my mind racing through the plan.
“Chaz, Rose, and Leo—get the wounded to the nearest village. Thecae, are those the only ones left who are loyal to Scarven?” I pointed to the men still bound in his shadows with lion’s masks over their faces.
Thecae nodded. “Good. Keep an eye on them and get them past the property line. We’ll deal with them later. ”
Arowyn cleared her throat. “Nox, you need to know—”
“Kieran, you and Everett get the innocent ones out to the village,” I said, my attention snagging on the figures lingering at the tree line. “We can regroup and take them to the Keep once this is over.”
I turned on my heel and pointed to Arowyn. “Arowyn, stay with me. Once everyone is clear, we’ll set the explosive and—”
“Would you shut up for one second?” the Strider rushed out, swiping her blonde hair away from her face. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The plan won’t work. Magic can’t exist down in the Hollow, remember?”
“Yes, I know, that’s why we have to break the—” I cut myself off.
My back slowly straightened, thoughts blurring as I worked out what she was saying, piece by piece.
The spell siphoned all magic. Magic wouldn’t work in the tunnels.
We needed the explosive to break the spell and destroy the fatesprig and weapons.
A Strider had to be the one to set it, so they could get out quick enough to avoid the blast. And—
My stomach crashed to my feet.
A Strider had to have magic. If their powers didn’t work in the Hollow, they wouldn’t be able to escape in time.
Arowyn’s lips formed a grim line. “If we want this plan to work, someone won’t make it out.”