Chapter 19
Something reminiscent of a smile tugged at Mal’s lips as his eyes watched her fingers with predatory intent.
“There’s so much more than even I could have imagined,” said Mal. “You hid him from me. . .multiple times. You even hid him from both of us.”
“Because that thing draped across your throne puts Maxius in danger.”
“In my defense,” said Shadow, a mock hurt in her voice, “I was content with keeping him alive so long as you kept him away. It’s his dear daddy here who wants to absorb his power. That’s the part I can’t allow.”
Mal turned sharply over his shoulder and focused his attention on Shadow.
“He only wants that because you have poisoned his mind,” seethed Maeve.
Shadow barked a laugh. “Surely you understand the irony of such an accusation coming from yourself?”
“You’ve corrupted his Magic,” argued Maeve. “It’s not the same.”
Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “He will always be driven to become one with the Dread Magic that lies dormant in your son. It’s written in Magic.
It’s a shame you aren’t more in tune with your own blood, Little Viper.
There’s so much you can’t see. It almost makes me pity you.
” She paused. “But you are in my way. And so is your son.”
Maeve attempted to settle her mind. She’d never get him out of this if she couldn’t think straight. Shadow’s oppressive Magic blurred her thoughts, dragging some and spiraling others.
“There’s a way out of this,” said Shadow, her voice slick with deception. “I’ll give you a little do over.”
Maeve stilled.
“Tell her our price, Malachite,” said Shadow.
Mal turned his attention back to Maeve. Her heart ached at the sight of him. At how his eyes held nothing even close to what they once did.
“The spell you created to alter the world’s memories. You will give it to me.”
Maeve hadn’t been expecting that. She’d assumed some blood sacrifice, or a vow of Magic, would be demanded of her. Mal continued.
“When I began hearing you in my head, the first thing I did was scour the Dread Spellbook for anything resembling a spell that ensnares the minds of all into one unified thought. Nothing came close. As I spent more time around you, I realized you had the potential for such a thing. Which only made me more curious about you. The power of the Dread Spellbook is that it contains, automatically, all Dread Magic known to exist.”
The power to alter the world’s perception would be far too dangerous in Shadow and Mal’s hands. She loosed a long breath, reality forcing its way to the forefront of her mind as she stood between Maxius’ sleeping body and Mal. It was dangerous in her hands, too, it seemed.
“I can’t give you that,” said Maeve softly.
“This is not a bargain,” replied Mal smoothly.
“No,” she said, more bite in her tone now.
Mal’s lip twitched. “Maeve,” he warned.
“No,” she repeated.
“No?” said Shadow with a laugh. “That’s fine.” She rested her arm against the arm of the throne, flexing her fingers. “Malachite,” she called, his attention turning back to her. His eyes glistened at her draw of Magic. “Kill the boy.”
Mal turned without hesitation, power thrumming at his hands as he stalked towards her. Maeve’s insides twisted violently, and her Magic snapped to attention. To battle. To whatever unfortunate end.
“Mal, please wake up,” she begged softly.
Shadow laughed. “You did this, Little Viper,” she mocked.
“You alone set me free. He was so weak from keeping me back. From keeping you safe and away from all my Dreaded Dead and creating barriers to keep you from where I slumbered at the top of Mount Morte. But he could never have unleashed me. That was only you.”
Mal stopped before he reached her, their position a reminder of so many duels from their past. But those ended in his praise. His kiss.
This one would not be so lovely.
“I won’t let you harm him,” said Maeve. “You know that.”
“It will take all of you to stop me.”
Maeve sighed. “Then so be it.”
Maeve jumped quickly, slipping into Alphard’s mind, far easier than she had ever jumped before, and moved behind Mal.
He swirled around and blocked the burst of Magic from Alphard’s fist, as she let go of her hold on him.
Mal sent Alphard flying across the hall.
Maeve Obscured, placing herself closer to Mal’s back, and slammed two fingers into his back.
Her Magic rippled through him, successfully landing and drawing a throaty groan from him. She Obscured again, putting distance between them as he turned on her, shaking off the impact of the spell.
“Shadow dulls your senses of my Magic,” remarked Maeve. “I could have never landed that before.”
Alphard glared at her, now back on his feet.
Mal was on her in a flash. Their hands collided in a burst of Magic, sending each of them sliding away from each other.
Maeve Obscured again, careful to keep herself between him and Maxius as they dueled.
Mal blocked one advance with ease. Then another.
And again. He didn’t fire back at her until his fourth block.
His foot shifted to the side, sharp Magic shooting across the floor and yanking her forward. The back of his knuckles collided with her cheek. The force of the hit was enough to blur her vision, but the Magic that penetrated her at contact caused her to cry out.
She Obscured quickly, placing herself behind him.
He turned with speed she could barely register and a single finger pulsing with Magic, ready to strike her chest. She dropped to one knee, and his blast of Magic exploded over her head.
With a quick slice, she struck his legs, landing a hit.
Her victory was short-lived as Mal’s free hand coiled in her hair and yanked her up and against his chest. His other hand snagged her forearm as she moved to make contact, electric Magic dancing across her fingers.
His grip tightened.
The bone snapped, shattering in half.
Maeve’s reaction was delayed as her eyes widened and her mouth parted. Nausea rolled through her toes, up to her stomach, and exploded. Her cry that rang out across the hall was primal, like stabbed prey surrendering. Mal gripped her harder, drawing her even closer.
“You will not take him from me again,” he whispered, his voice calm and even despite the horrific hold he maintained on her broken arm.
“I can help you, Mal, please,” she begged through staggered and shallow breaths. Pain tore through her in wave after wave, each one crashing harder than the last. “Together, we can rid your mind of this dark possession.”
“How can I believe a word that comes out of your traitorous mouth?”
Shadow smiled triumphantly from the throne.
“Give me the spell,” he commanded.
“Anything else,” stuttered Maeve. Begging now, and hating every bit of how it sounded in her voice. She had never begged like this. “Anything else you ask and I will give.”
“The spell, Maeve,” said Mal, shaking his head like he thought she was stupid.
Mal released her with such a forceful shove, she landed on the floor, unable to brace herself fully. She cried out as her torture increased. It wasn’t solely a snapped or shattered bone that ailed her. Toxic Magic ate at her skin. He stalked across the room, his eyes on a new target.
Zimsy.
Maeve scrambled, Obscuring, only partially there as the pain of her broken arm thrumming through her weakened her Magic.
Zimsy stood with her back tall as the guests around her scrambled to put space between themselves and Mal’s pursuit.
“Zim,” began Maeve, but her throat closed instantly before she could tell her friend to run.
Mal prepared a single finger as he continued to move towards her.
“It seems cruel to attack you this way, when you can’t perform Magic,” said Mal.
Zimsy’s chin lifted. She raised her hand, palm flat towards Mal, as Magic swirled against her skin. Mal stilled. He sneered.
“You? How could you possibly perform such Magic?”
“Mal—” called Maeve, forcing herself to her feet.
Lethal Magic rippled from him as he turned back towards her. “Don’t you dare call me that.” He whipped back towards Zimsy, pointing at her. “How is it you came to possess Dread Magic? Your Curse was broken, effectively ending any shared Magic granted to you for the purposes of serving in slavery.”
That last word brought a sharp breath up through Maeve, anger brewing deep in her chest.
Zimsy swallowed hard. “When Maeve broke my Enslavement Curse, some of her own Magic slipped into me,” explained Zimsy, her beautiful face on Mal.“It’s not much,” her eyes shifted to Maeve, “but I am honored to have it all the same.”
The air turned thick, like the atmosphere before thunder rolls. Green light pulsed at Mal’s finger, Maeve’s senses feeling it before it ever manifested.
Her next words weren’t heard over the blast of Magic.
“You can have the spell, just leave her—”
Zimsy’s body lifted from the floor beneath Mal’s power, agony spread across her delicate features. If Maeve was breathing, she’d never felt more suffocated.
“Stop, please stop—” screamed Maeve.
Zimsy’s body contorted in the air, her hands snapping backwards in an unnatural way.
“STOP!” Maeve wailed, turning back towards Shadow, her screams echoing off the stone walls as she fell to her knees. The poisonous Magic penetrating her shattered arm fried her mouth.
Shadow didn’t move an inch. Her eyes were glazed in a bloodthirsty, hypnotized way that made Maeve’s heart shatter. She couldn’t tell where Mal ended and Shadow began.
The sounds were horrific.
Mal continued until Zimsy’s arms were twisted in all directions. Exposed bones shattered at the tips. Blood spilled to the floor, pooling up beneath her.
Maeve didn’t even know if she was screaming anymore. The entire room was hauntingly still. Frozen in fear.