Chapter 3 #4
I glanced over my shoulder at the sound of thudding boots. Cliff charged after the strange human, who continued to back away through the wide shelves, hurling another two boxes and a small trunk to slow Cliff’s path. Surely he would have drawn a weapon by now if he had one.
Jon launched himself onto the snake before it could return to the air. He took hold with both hands, stretching it onto the ground and leaning away from the furious wing flaps.
“Wait, don’t kill it!” I shouted, cutting my flight downward and positioning my hands for another spell.
“Hurry!” Jon said through gritted teeth.
My first two spells missed, crystallizing patches of ice on the marble floor. The snake’s wriggling form was difficult to aim at while Jon was trying to balance restraint without crushing it. But finally, my spellwork landed, replacing Jon’s hands with thick, icy cuffs around the beast’s body.
The snake lashed around as much as it could, hissing and rattling. Fangs snapped toward Jon’s heels in vain as he stepped past it and assessed the chaos that had taken over the small room.
Other cages clattered madly. Multi-colored dormice spilled from one of the fallen boxes and scattered across the floor to hide against the walls.
A sheet had come down from another enclosure, revealing a pair of panicked weasels that blinked in and out of visibility, light bending at their every movement.
Leathery wings and familiar screeches came from a locked glass case and made me shiver at the memory of ahools at the outpost.
But it wasn’t an animal or monster that struck next.
As Cliff shoved aside fallen luggage to pursue the stranger, a bolt of fabric unfurled in the air and caught him around the neck. His shout was cut short as the scarf tightened mercilessly. The man took the opportunity to double back and dodge past him, making a break for the wrecked door.
“Cliff!” Jon shouted, but he faltered, eyes trailing the stranger. He could stop him or save Cliff; there was only time for one.
Cursing, he sank to his knees and tried to claw the fabric away as Cliff’s breathing sputtered into pained, shallow gasps.
I started toward them, only for a hand to close around my wrist. Ben wheeled me around, his gaze frantic.
“Please, you have to believe me. If you come with us, they’ll never find you,” he insisted, oblivious that his words would not have the intended effect.
I strained against him, emboldened by his exhaustion. He was stronger than he looked, but with all the magic he had expelled already, perhaps he couldn’t summon glamour again.
Something shifted in his desperate look, a chilling sort of resignation. “I’m really sorry about this.”
A sickening tug at my core made me gasp. My magic was being pulled. It gave me nearly the same sensation as iron, but instead of ousting my power, this reprehensible ability meant to siphon it. Soon, Ben’s exhaustion wouldn’t matter—he’d use my own strength to fuel his magic and knock me out.
“Let go of me!” I cried. Snatching the dregs of my disappearing magic, I forced crystals to burst along my arm. Ben hissed and snatched his hand away, relieving me of the horrid transfer.
“Leave her!” the stranger called from the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here while we can!”
“I can’t, Lee!” Ben said.
I darted back defensively, glancing from the corner of my eye to see that Jon was sawing through the enchanted scarf with his blade.
The fabric finally went limp, and Cliff gasped for a full breath, bracing his hands against the ground as he recovered.
Jon was already turning his murderous glare back to the stranger—Lee. Cliff was sure to follow suit.
Suddenly, all-encompassing silence enveloped the room. Not Ben’s glamour. This was different. It was like a blanket, thick and choking, and—was that the scent of roses in the air?
The chattering creatures and cursed objects came to a complete standstill, as did I. Somehow, the absence of chaos was even more terrifying than the presence of it.
Something was approaching. My eyes were drawn to the broken door. Whatever it was, even the hunters became utterly quiet and tense, watching. Shivering, I braced myself for the horror that was about to step past the threshold.
An ordinary white cat trotted into the room.
It stopped close to Lee and sat, tucking its fluffy tail primly around its legs as it surveyed the room.
“What the fuck,” Cliff muttered hoarsely. He exchanged a bewildered look with Jon, their grips uncertain on their handguns.
Sighing, Lee regarded the cat. “It’s about time. A little help?”
Before I could puzzle out what I was seeing, black mist rolled into the room like an encroaching shadow. My consciousness wavered and slipped away like water dripping through my fingers.
“J-Jon—” I croaked as he and Cliff both began to slump.
I fought the heaviness, flying for them. Jon reached for me, but we were too far. He went entirely slack, his arm dropping as he sprawled unconsciously on the floor.
As the world grew dark and my wings went limp, a pair of lean arms caught me long before I could reach the floor.