35. Dark Magic #2
I saw myself back in that tube station entrance, watching my parents get obliterated in front of me, Archie’s screams echoing across the tile. I saw Bones standing there just a few seconds before that, only twelve or thirteen, his gold eyes curious as he stared at the sun floating over my head.
It dragged on and on… agonizingly endless, and ruthless beyond anything I’d ever experienced.
My terror grew so unbearable that eventually my conscious mind stopped working entirely, although it didn’t seem to hinder Malefic ripping every memory that mattered to me out of my mind and tossing it aside as though none of it interested him.
The pain never stopped, never lessened.
I screamed until I could no longer get enough breath.
I screamed until I teetered on the edge of unconsciousness…
yet somehow, I never did black out, even though by then I badly wanted to.
When it finally ended, I only knelt there, my head bowed, every part of me soaked in sweat.
My hands were planted on the tile as my body wracked painfully with the effort of keeping itself alive.
I scarcely had enough energy left to suck in breaths.
The pain didn’t end when his probe did.
My mind felt torn, ripped, stabbed with shards of broken glass.
I tasted copper and realized blood had dripped down from my nose to cover my face and fill my mouth.
I couldn’t do anything but fight to work my lungs, deafened by my heart as it slammed against my ribs.
My head hurt so badly I thought my skull must be cracked.
Then my body wracked in even worse pain as I retched, silent, my back rigid as it fought to expel the black smoke that seemed to fill every part of me.
Nothing came out but thick saliva.
My body arched painfully again, fighting to get more out anyway.
At the end of it, I could only kneel there, my chin covered in blood, spit, bile, and whatever else my stomach managed to bring up.
It was a few seconds before I could make out the words spoken above me.
“…No,” the deep voice above me rumbled contemptuously. “Leave him where he is for now. I’ll send for the whelp only when we need him, after the first half is complete.”
The other voice stammered. “But the Great Ritual… are we postponing it, then?”
“No.” Malefic’s voice grew even colder. “We will finish it, tonight… all of it. Everything that comes before will feed into the power needed to conduct the final ceremony. The sacrifices to our gods. The summoning required. Remaking me into the king the new world deserves… all of it must happen on the same night if we want to succeed.”
His voice grew harder, more resonant.
“We are about to make history,” he said coldly. “The power we raise tonight will be unlike anything Magique has ever seen. Once I’ve been made ready for my ascension, we will make the world back into what it was always meant to be.”
Something about the words rang coldly in my mind.
I struggled to see, to focus my eyes.
It hit me only then that I’d fallen to my side, no longer able to hold myself up.
I sucked in breaths, still struggling to control my body.
My head hurt so badly, tears ran down my face. My whole body felt like it was swimming in liquid fire.
Eye of Ra, where were my friends? Had that drakai, Elwood, found Alaric? Where were the rest of my friends? Luc? Nyx? Miranda? Draken? Had they gotten out? Were they imprisoned somewhere, like my brother and Bones?
What about Blackstone? Forsooth? Valor?
Was there anyone left who could even help us?
I swallowed, my head pounding so badly I could barely see.
Were we all dead? If not now, then by the end of this night?
My mind still felt slow, deadened, when a robed figure knelt next to me. They ran a hand over my magic, murmuring a low incantation.
“Her magic is gravely weakened,” the witch said, her words audibly satisfied. “But she will survive long enough to serve her purpose, my king.” She smiled up at him, her eyes gleaming. “She will definitely last for the duration of the ritual. Longer, if you need her to.”
Malefic seemed to hear the meaning behind her words.
The Anubis head mask tilted down. The eyes glowed redder.
“I will not permit any joining of inferior blood,” he said coldly. “Not in the new world we have suffered for, sister, and worked so hard to create. We will not begin our new legacy with yet more corruption, so I will forget I heard what I just heard.”
“Of course, my king,” the woman said hastily. She made her voice obsequious, bowing her head. “I only worry for your safety, my lord. Forgive my lack of faith.”
I felt my throat close as I envisioned Bones in that dark cell, unknowing while I died on his father’s altar. He’d said before that my death would kill him, and vice versa. Was that still true? Or had Malefic had a way around that?
I strongly suspected he had.
It certainly sounded like he intended for me to be resurrected into a new, non-hybrid body.
Was that how Malefic intended to keep both me and his son alive, while also keeping his bloodline pure?
What about his son’s own “dirty” blood? Surely Malefic must know by now about his wife’s part-human ancestry?
Would Malefic resurrect Bones into a different body, too?
I frowned at the thought.
It didn’t make any sense.
Strong, rough hands jerked me up off the floor, dragging me across the stone tile to one side of the altar like a pile of dirty laundry.
I heard a disgusted spell cast over the blood, saliva, and vomit I’d left behind on the ballroom floor, erasing them from the stone, but no one bothered to try and clean me up, or even toss me a wet rag.
I got dumped by the base of the stairs leading up to the altar, and kicked by one angry boot. I gasped at the kick, but otherwise didn’t make a sound.
I didn’t bother to look at who’d delivered it, but leaned my head gratefully against the altar’s base.
Despite the rough handling, the pain shooting down my spine and tailbone, the bruises forming on my ribs and now my thigh where I’d been kicked, and my skull feeling like it might crack in half, the new position was a definite improvement.
I could see now.
Before me spread the entirety of Worm Hall, everything but the altar behind me, and the enormous Anubis statue breathing fire and black smoke. The hall appeared even darker now, maybe because fewer spells and explosions could be seen through the tall windows.
The main sources of illumination now appeared to be the altar covered in candles, and the bowls on stone pedestals filled with flames.
Two massive ritual circles had been drawn on the black marble, one inside the other.
I tried to work out the inner circle first, the smaller one, which was still big enough it had to be over fifteen feet in diameter.
Dark red and black symbols made up its curved edge, hieroglyphs and runes that appeared bastardized and altered, along with marks and drawings I remembered faintly from my Numerology and Symbology course. Everything looked off somehow, like each symbol had been twisted in ways I didn’t recognize.