Chapter 15 #2
My magic has levelled up; before this weird phenomenon stops and I return to normal, perhaps I can heal everyone?
I don’t stop running. On the fly, instead of making a single charm, I desperately throw my magic out and search for things to use.
Anything. I find jewellery. The gold in people’s ears and wrists, the delicate jewellery around necks and fingers, and even a few plastic watches answer my call.
Each one should fix a cluster of people.
I throw my magic out wider, like a net, to capture anyone left behind, the poor spelled trapped behind those closed doors.
Then I focus on my memory of the Pied Piper spell. It touched me, reached out, and tried to take control of my mind. I know the spell intimately; while it was in my head for those few seconds, along with the panic and fear, I got a good look at its makeup.
If you know something intimately, you can destroy it.
Right?
My feet hit the stairs and I hurry inside. At the library’s entrance, I brace myself against the oak door and turn to look out onto the square at the thousands of sleeping people.
I remember at the last minute to block the magic from interfering with the two gargoyles and invaders sleeping within the ward. No need to wake up trouble. Those creatures need to remain asleep.
I glance at the sky, scared the helicopter will land any second. I open my arms and throw everything I have into the temporary charms. “Heal,” I demand as I let them take what they need. It feels like they’re sucking at my soul.
The charms use me like a battery, and the strain on my body makes my heart miss a few beats. Hundreds of odd, weird, and wonderful charms scream in my mind. I can feel the spell’s structure warp and melt as they dismantle it.
They remove all traces.
A big, black helicopter comes into sight.
I can’t wait to see if what I’m doing works. Like a drunk, I turn and stagger into the library, swaying past the front desk and through the stacks.
The charms have done all they can, and I have no idea if it’ll be enough. I don’t have a connection with people like I do with the magic.
I take a deep breath, and then—I’ve never done anything like this before—I rip the power out of the temporary charms. The rush of the returning magic sends me to my knees.
There’s a horrific pain in my mind, and my heart feels like it’s limping in my chest. A pop of sound and a flood of hot liquid comes from my eyes, nose, and ears.
I swipe at my face, and my fingers come away bloody.
I’m bleeding. Again.
Some blood vessels must have burst. The only plus point is that my heart is still beating.
I drag myself to my feet—barely, but I’ll take it—and stumble towards the staff room, aiming for the tunnels in the basement.
The tunnels lead to the council offices, and the council has a ley line gateway—a portal.
It’s my magical getaway car.
Usually it’s guarded. But with the entire town outside on the square, I’m betting no one’s there to stop me from using it.
With blood dripping down my face and my vision going grey at the edges, a paranoid thought flits to life.
Blood. With blood, they can track me, and I’m leaking like a sieve.
I’ve also left droplets on the car park floor, plus my magic signature is everywhere.
I need a charm to cleanse my blood and magical presence from everything.
Have I got another spell in me? Can I make a brand-new charm? I enter the code to open the staff room door and shuffle through, closing it firmly behind me. I use the power remaining in the umbrella charm to ward off the door.
It’s now or never, Kricket.
I’m gasping. Each breath is impossibly hard.
I pass through the door on the left and take the stairs down, clinging to the railing as I stumble forward.
My vision is fading to a pinprick. Damn it, I’ll fall down these bloody stairs if I don’t get to the bottom soon.
I keep going. I trip over the lack of a step when the floor evens out and drop to my knees.
Everything has gone dark as if my eyes are closed.
The tiled floor in the basement is cold and smells faintly of lemon cleaner.
If I push a little more, my survival rate might drop to nil. But if the two sets of baddies hunt me… I’m dead either way. Ha, I’m not quite the superhero then. Here’s me thinking I’m a magical bigwig, and instead about to kill myself by over-taxing my magic.
With the last of my strength, I make the charm.
Oh fate, it hurts. It won’t wipe away any active magic—my spells will remain—but the charm will wipe away any trace of me. It’ll scramble the evidence.
My power understands my intention, but for this, I speak. “Please.” I grit my teeth. It’s like someone is stabbing my brain through my ear. “Please cleanse all traces of me.” The words spill from my lips, and the new charm forms and immediately takes what it needs.
A big, rattling cough shakes my chest, and blood bubbles up my throat and from between my lips and dribbles down my chin. Everything fades, and my breaths slow—