Chapter 40
I followed the tiniest thread of psychotic energy. Theodore’s thoughts held a chaotic frequency, one of which I understood all too well now that I’d embraced his mind. The wicked musings called out with a soft echo, guiding my manifested self through the psychic plane until I reached a dark cavern.
This was where Tara and Caleb had been dragged weeks ago. I didn’t know this location. Was it underground? Was it some archaic temple? Was this ancient mystique merely an illusion meant to deceive those who entered this cave?
It didn’t matter. I needed to pinpoint this location, give Milo the destination, and then prepare for a war where I’d have no choice but to drag my other students into it in order to ensure all my students survived.
Twelve bound by fate, all because I had to change the life of one student.
My interference in Caleb’s life that semester now linked all of them together on a mystical level I’d never comprehend.
I wasn’t even sure Milo fully gleaned it, but he knew their futures held stronger together than apart.
My homeroom coven was intertwined, and I had to make sure it stayed that way.
I wouldn’t lose Caleb to Hell. I wouldn’t lose Tara to her mother’s deranged obsession. I wouldn’t lose anyone to The True Witch or her Celestial Coven.
Skirting around the pillars, I carefully studied them.
I only made a little sense out of the sigils, mainly from knowledge I shared with Katherine.
My students had opened their minds to me, offering intel and insight where they possessed it.
Katherine’s comprehension of enchantments far superseded the average witch.
Hell, she excelled beyond most of the expert witches across the globe.
Most of that talent came from years of dedicated study, but part of her strength came from the memories of Moire she absorbed.
While the vile grimoire controlled her body like a puppet, Katherine did her part to learn the wealth of knowledge that book contained.
It helped ensure I didn’t trigger any of these traps.
The pillars and walls were soaked in protective magics that’d easily ignite even when met with the psychic projection. Carefully, I weaved around them, searching for an exit, for a distinguishable landmark, for a concrete location.
“I know you’re here, friend.” Theodore’s thoughts shuddered, filled with quaking anticipation.
I ignored him, making my way through this horrifying lair.
Bones lay strewn throughout the cave floor.
Were these victims of Grim? Former Celestial Coven members?
Foolish witches who challenged The True Witch?
Or perhaps sacrifices in some ancient blood magic ritual when witches still believed in such perverse forms of casting.
“Better hurry,” Theodore teased, his teeth chattering alongside his whispering thoughts. “Mommy’s casting a ritual to ship off my baby bro. I’d hate for you to miss the best part.”
The suddenness of his voice startled me, but I wouldn’t let his wicked words deceive me.
He was lying. There was no way Amara had opened the Gate of Hell already. Right? She mentioned requiring a celestial event, something to harness.
But if Theodore was telling the truth…
I couldn’t chance it. I had to know. On the off-chance Theodore planned on tricking me, I kept my guard up. Not that he could do too much to a manifestation, but I didn’t want to lose this opportunity to gain intel on their location.
Drifting through the halls of this ancient ruin, I followed the vibrations of Theodore’s guiding thoughts.
In the deepest depths of this place stood a ritual chamber with a large arched doorway.
Like two pillars outstretched and twisted together at the tip.
The top where they met held a flame. Many built-in torches lined the arch all the way to the bottom, but none were lit except for the flickering fire at the top.
Amara stood before the archway, chanting a spell.
Theodore’s mind opened to me, revealing this location, the meaning of the symbols on the pillar, the purpose of Amara’s ancient words.
This was the Gate of Hell. She was…she was opening it. But how?
Surrounding her were all three of her children. Tara was placed the furthest out, still within Amara’s sight, but far enough from any immediate danger that came with opening the literal Gate of Hell. A white barrier held Tara in place, blocking her magic despite the constant bombardment of strikes.
Tara shouted, screaming with a soft echo. I barely heard her behind the barrier containing her. Shadows and ice and crackling screeches did nothing to break the white barrier holding her in place.
Directly behind Amara, Caleb sat on his knees, hands bound behind his back, and a chain around his neck keeping him completely centered with the warded pentagram he was bound within.
On Amara’s other side, opposite Tara, but nearly as far away, lay Theodore. He was bound with heavy shackles on his back within a similar pentagram to Caleb’s. Though Theodore’s held more binding sigils.
“How is she doing this?” I trembled in the presence of Hell opening before my eyes. “She needed a celestial event.”
Theodore quietly chuckled. “I am a celestial event. All of her children are. She’s used our births to move her plans forward for thousands of years.”
“What?” I cocked my head, locking onto Theodore’s hollow blue eyes.
“She’s birthed heroes and villains for centuries, bringing legends into this world all in some pathetic ploy to attain her dream, her vision, of ruling the universe alongside the perfect child.
” Theodore flicked his eyes toward the barrier containing his sister. “Tragic Tara was the best she managed.”
Amara continued performing her ritual, retrieving a blade and turning to face Caleb.
The fear lodged in his throat passed to me, locking me in place as I trembled.
With a wicked smile, Amara held the blade out, then turned it back on herself and sliced open her palm. Taking strong strides, her heels clicked against the stone floor as she approached Theodore.
Amara spoke in some twisted language; the words carried a dark echo with them.
When she finished her chant, she slapped her bloody hand against Theodore’s forehead and sent a surge of energy hurling toward the sleeping Gate.
Amara channeled Theodore’s magic as she chanted her ritual. She was really going to do it. Amara was about to open the Gate of Hell itself.
No!
I couldn’t allow this. I couldn’t let her throw Caleb into Hell itself. But I didn’t have the strength to beat her. Not as a manifestation. Even if I left now, no one would get here in time. Not even Gladiatrix or Milo could fly who-the-fuck-even-knew where in a matter of minutes. Seconds, really.
Maybe I could free Caleb, free Tara. Give them a chance to fight back.
No.
Amara had defeated them once before. Now, she’d have demons ushered through the Gate, come to claim their sacrificial prize.
Flames ignited one by one on the rounded pillar of the arch that formed the Gate of Hell. The empty space turned black and murky like a pool of tar. Not like…literally just that. The Gate was made of fiendish demonic energy.
Beasts of all kinds stepped through, twelve in total. They were made of tar, mere silhouettes of demon shapes. Some humanoid, some arachnid-like, others slithering, and one even fluttered a bit as it found its footing on the ground.
“What kind of demons are these?”
“Demon lords,” Theodore whispered, staring inquisitively at their presence. “They’re too powerful to step into this reality. They either need to possess a host immediately or walk in this world as a proxy of themselves.”
The tar bodies. It was the demon equivalent of a manifestation, like how I broke apart my overpowering telepathy.
“Welcome.” Amara curtsied.
The demons knelt or bowed, absorbing the magic in Amara’s words. Their blank faces twisted in on themselves as the tar of their silhouette bodies bubbled.
“It is long overdue, but I have acquired the sacrifice you desire.” Amara pointed at Caleb, who trembled at the sight and power of the demons surrounding him.
This couldn’t happen. I had to stop it. Caleb and Tara’s minds made me shake uncontrollably, barely able to think rationally with their fear consuming me.
“I could help,” Theodore taunted, always screwing with me since the day we met. “If you do the tiniest of favors for me.”
“You can’t stop her,” I snarled. “She’s had you under her control since the day she liberated you.”
“Biding my time, friend.” Theodore smiled, blood trickling down his face, making his expression all the more menacing. “I can spare my siblings Mommy’s fate, but I require something first.”
“What?”
“You.” Theodore’s blue eyes widened. “I want your psychic touch. I want the gentle embrace of another mind against mine.”
The toxic, hollowed-out soul of Theodore’s every exposed thought revealed no deceit.
He longed for companionship, craved acceptance beyond everything else.
His crew had died, but even when they lived, they only offered a portion of fulfillment.
The doctor who groomed him left Theodore longing and lusting for a telepath’s touch.
“I’m not him,” I attempted to explain. “I’m not Dorian. I mean, I am, but only a fraction of myself. I’m a manifestation of my mind. Just a piece broken off from the whole.”
“That’s fine.” Theodore smirked. “I can settle for a taste and devour the rest of you later.”
I hovered near him, eyeing the spelled shackles which held him in place.
“Don’t worry. Mommy’s bindings are a lot looser now that she doesn’t have her residential enchantment witch to reinforce the wards.” Theodore batted his long lashes, playfully, excited, and entertained. “Guess I owe you for that one, huh, friend?”
There wasn’t another way. Caleb was seconds away from being dragged into the pits of Hell itself. I couldn’t, wouldn’t allow such a fate to befall him.