Chapter 34
A prickle shot down her spine. But not the exciting kind. Not at all the way Mal’s Magic felt when they kissed. The kind that whispered from the cold shadows of her mind to run. The kind that had her witches’ instinct pooling sweat on her palms.
She opened her eyes as the feeling grew. The dark hall was eerily still in the middle of the night. The prickling was faster now. Like running footsteps-
or a portal barreling open
or magic collapsing-
She sat up slowly in the dark hall, feeling for the danger that lurked close by. Abraxas was snoring lightly next to her.
She looked across the row of students.
Mal was already sitting straight as a board. Something warm and slick rested above her lip. She touched her face, pulling her bloodied fingers back.
Mal’s eyes grew wide as the prickle down Maeve’s back dug in deep and ran down her arms. He lunged for her as the doors to the Hall sprung open.
“Students!” Screamed Rowan, awakening them all.
Mal’s body slammed into hers as a deafening crack sounded through the hall, like two boulders slamming together.
The sound ensued panic. Screams flooded the hall as the ground beneath them began to violently shake.
The stained glass windows depicting the school and its courts shattered. Glass musically fell to the floor.
Mal gripped her face in his hands.
“You stay close to me. Do you understand?”
Maeve placed her hands over his and nodded.
“To the foyer now!” Yelled Rowan.
Chandeliers of candles crashed to the stone floor, paintings and tapestries dulled into nothing. Rubble and bits of stone fell from the ceiling, stirring dust and debris and cracking the stone floors.
Abraxas was there suddenly, helping Maeve to her feet with his eyes locked on Mal. “Maeve is the target!” He yelled over the screaming students. “They’re here for Maeve!”
The realization slammed into her. “That soldier the other day-”
Abraxas cut her off, “The Magical Militia is no longer under your father’s command.”
Mal’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back to him.
And this time, she didn’t pull away from his touch. She melted into his protection, into the cool electricity that shot down his arm and circled around her.
“They are under Kietel’s.” She said.
The blinding light of a portal was pouring into the hall from the foyer.
They ran across the hall. Sparks and blasts of light of many colors illuminated the foyer. Magical Militia were fighting Magical Militia. The portal was barely large enough for two or three students to get through at a time. Larliesl and Arman held the portal open, urging students to hurry.
A burst of red light ricocheted towards them. They dodged it and kept running.
Rowan was dueling multiple Magical Militia at once. Maeve had never seen the stoic spy so violent. Curses whipped from him with passion as he guarded Larliesl and Arman’s portal.
Maeve’s anger flared as she watched the betrayal.
With the point of two fingers a black light burst forth from her, spiraling across the hall and slammed into one of the soldiers Rowan battled.
“Go Abraxas’,” said Mal. “As soon as you are on the other side of that Portal trust no one except Ambrose.”
Abraxas took off towards the swirling light. Students hurled past them. There were too many soldiers swarming the foyer from the courtyard.
Headmaster Elgin flew down the castle stairs, Magical Militia hot on her heels.
They didn’t fire at her.
“Take down that portal!” She yelled, pointing towards Rowan.
The remaining two soldiers fighting Rowan dropped to the floor at once. Maeve’s head whipped towards Mal, whose single finger was pointed at them.
Elgin made her way across the hall, her eyes on Mal and Maeve.
“We needn’t spill Golden Blood, Sinclair,” said Elgin. “I will not harm you.”
“I cannot grantee the same,” seethed Maeve.
“You will see, the both of you, in time,” she said.
“You are out of time,” said Mal.
Elgin looked to him. “So be it.”
She pointed two fingers towards the Portal and adjusted her aim at Arman. Bright blue light shot towards him, slamming him square in the chest.
The Portal faltered as he was weakened, shrinking in size. Magical Militia now swarmed him and Larliesl. Harquinton and the rest of the staff stood fighting them off.
Rowan stood tall and faced Elgin.
“Rowan,” she said. “I tried to tell you.”
His fingers sparked at his side. “I do not listen to traitors.”
Their fight exploded across the foyer as their hexes slammed into one another. Students screamed at the sound. Maeve turned towards Mal.
“There are too many of us to make it through the portals before this place collapses.”
Maeve looked up at Mal, whose eyes were already on her.
“We can do it,” he said.
She nodded.
Without hesitation, without thought, and with a thunderous clap, they grasped each-other’s forearms. Light shot down their shoulders, banding along their arms and joining with the other.
Had Mal’s grip on her arm not been iron-tight, she would have gone flying backwards and slammed into the stone floor.
The bright green and blue whirls of light began circling between them, growing brighter and brighter and wider until the stone floor beneath them was swallowed by the light. A bright golden light erupted from their gripped forearms and latched itself onto the oscillating shape of the portal.
Mal nodded, and they let go and stepped away.
Scrambling students nearly shoved past them to gain access to the portal, their screams frantic and scared.
Arman was scrambling back to his feet. Larliesl’s attention was on the Portal. The Magical Militia moved towards Arman relentlessly as he threw up a shield.
Maeve narrowed two fingers on her right hand and a silver spiral shot towards one of the soldiers. He slouched to the floor is agony. Mal took care of two more, and Larliesl took out the the next. Arman was back on his feet.
He screamed as he poured his Magic into the Portal. It expanded in size.
A student flew around them. A hex from Elgin, aimed at Rowan, clipped his shoulder.
He rolled to the floor, gripping his arm.
Maeve stepped towards him. The castle quaked once more, knocking her off balance.
Chunks of the ceiling smashed into the floor.
Maeve looked up. The castle was going to fall completely.
“Come, Darian!” Screamed another student, grabbing the wounded boy’s hand as she went by, dragging him towards their portal.
“Where’s it go?” She asked.
“Sinclair Estates,” Mal and Maeve answered together.
They hadn’t even discussed where the portal would lead to.
Roswyn appeared at Mal’s side, assisting him in his fight. In one step, she could be home. With her father. Safe.
Rowan and Elgin’s duel continued. Maeve watched as the Headmasters of Vaukore fought with deadly intention. Elgin, who had welcomed students with open arms. Who had promised them safety and peace. Who had vowed to protect Vaukore and its students with her life. . .was now an enemy.
Sparks of red swarmed Maeve’s finger tips.
She stepped towards the Headmasters, the floor beneath each step trembled and shook more.
She pointed at Elgin and fired. Red light ripped into her side, blood spewed from the wound.
Rowan’s eyes grew wide.
Only Dread Magic drew blood.
Elgin writhed on the stone floor as Maeve and Rowan met eyes. She pointed her finger at Elgin as it shook.
“Don’t,” said Rowan. “You don’t need her on your conscious.”
“She already is,” said Maeve as Elgin’s blood pooled. “The bleeding won’t stop.”
Larliesl appeared at Maeve’s side. “Rowan,” he gasped. “There are more coming.”
They were being surrounded. And outnumbered. It appeared that there were more Magical Militia here against them than with them. Rowan stepped towards Elgin. A bright white shot of light knocked her unconscious. He looked to the Portals.
“Everyone is almost through. We can hold them off Larliesl.” He looked back at Maeve. “Take Mal and get to your father. We cannot lose our Dread Descendant.”
Maeve stepped away from Rowan and Larliesl, her head shaking.
“There’s no time, Maeve. You must protect him-”
A second burst of magic slammed through the hall, sucking Maeve’s hair back as magic withdrew from the castle.
And everything went dark.
And cold.
Larliesl and Rowan ran towards the last few students, shooting spells at the soldiers, attempting to stop them.
Massive pieces of the castle cut loose from the ceiling and slammed to the floor, Maeve narrowly removing herself from their path. The last few students crossed their portal where it stood beckoning them to safety.
But she froze. That prickle down her spine, and something under her skin stilled. She turned back to look at Mal, her face struck with horror. She could feel the stalling breath of prepared Magic.
Without warning, the floor was yanked from underneath them as the magic holding up Vaukore Realm snapped in half.
The tiles beneath them were tilting, inch by inch, rubble from the castle’s destruction sliding down sideways across the floor.
Her reflexes caught her and a hard wall of air stopped her from slamming into the floor.
She pulled her feet under her, quickly balancing herself.
Mal slid to her side gracefully and gripped her tightly, one taunt leg holding them steady. His face mangled with distress.
The stone archway behind them cracked under pressure. Mal flinched at the sound. Anger flooded his veins. It pulsated towards Maeve.
Fury like she had never felt from him.
“Don’t,” said Maeve, beginning to realize his intensions. They were sliding faster now, the portal mere feet away. “Don’t-”
His grip tightened, and his lips slammed into hers. Too quickly. That had been too quick of a kiss to be the last. But he kissed her like it was.
“Go,” was all he said as he released her.
Mal Obscured to the center of the hall, walking on air as Maeve was nearly to the portal. The green and blue waves of mist ready to take her home, to her father. Behind her, white light was pouring into her shoulders.
Rowan and Larliesl had told her they couldn’t lose Mal. Even Reeve told her to stay with Mal.
She looked at the portal before her and, as easy as cutting a ribbon, she let go of the flow of magic between it and herself and let the portal collapse.
The circle pulled and twisted in on itself, making a cyclone like shape until it compacted so tightly it was gone.
Maeve steadied her breathing and turned to Mal at the center of the Hall.
He was barely three feet off the ground, both his palms extended wide.
His eyes white as all his magic poured from him.
She wouldn’t leave him defenseless.
Larliesl and Rowan and the rest had pushed the traitorous soldiers out of the castle and onto the grounds. Only she and Mal remained in the foyer.
The castle twisted to its upright position. The ceiling didn’t fall. The walls shook into stillness and the room grew calm. Maeve stared up at Mal in awe as he took control of Vaukore’s magic.
Air swirled around her, unsettling and. . .familiar. Her hand crept to the back of her neck as her fingers shook.
“Maeve Sinclair.”
The voice behind her was burned into her mind. She turned over her shoulder. Kietel stood across the foyer.
His icy blue eyes glowed in the darkness. His hands were tucked behind his back.
Mal was holding up Vaukore. Maeve was on her own.
She pulled two fingers together, resting at her side. Kietel looked down at them.
“A Supreme.” He said, his German accent thick. “Let’s see what you are made of.”
Shit.
“I came prepared for you,” he said. “You won’t find your way into my mind.”
Maeve lowered her chin.
“You disagree?”
Mal lowered to the ground behind her, his eyes white. He gently collapsed into the floor. He didn’t move. She felt for the magic around her neck. She felt him.
He was breathing.
Kietel stepped towards her, and Maeve stepped back towards Mal.
“I don’t think your friend is going to help you.”
She stepped back towards him again. If she could get to him, she could attempt to obscure them away. She had never done it successfully, but she could try. Or at the least put a protective shield on him.
“I see,” said Kietel. “You are protecting him.” His pursuit towards her continued. “I’m disappointed. You aren’t even trying to enter my mind. I’m afraid your father is going to be rather disappointed too.”
Maeve stopped. Kietel opened his mouth to continue.
But his eyes went wide. Magic slammed into the foyer with a fury. Black and amethyst fire swarmed around them. Maeve’s knees gave way, slamming her sideways into the ground.
From the violet flames erupted Reeve.
Lethal rage poured from his eyes, and all of it directed at Kietel.
Maeve’s attention shot to Mal. He was still unconscious on the other side of the foyer.
Reeve’s face twisted into something unholy. She felt the raw magic that was seconds away from bursting from him.
She made to move for Mal but. . .
Her jaw fell open as Reeve transformed.
She had never seen those fearsome wings and claws herself. In an instant Reeve was part man, part mist and shadow. Great black dragon wings unfurled from his back. His fingers scaled and sharp.
He was incredible.
He was Holy.
Reeve snarled. And Maeve remembered Mal.
But Kietel’s attention was not on Reeve.
Sharp blades locked into her arms, pulling her backwards.
She pointed two fingers, but it was too late.
Maeve winced as her back slammed into a hard chest. Kietel stood behind her.
One hand gripping her right wrist high, and the other flat across her throat, power flickering from his palm, threatening to slice at any moment.
Reeve snarled in divine hatred.
He, and the foyer at Vaukore, vanished before she could blink.