Feral Magic: An Urban Fantasy Romance-Thriller

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  If I remained in the shadows or where there was a lot of vegetation, I would not be very visible even to dragons who might see through my trinkets. What I knew for absolute certain was that I had to be out here, but I didn't know why. My feet shuffled down the path, halting when I came to a garden path with wisteria and honeysuckle draping over it in a series of arches. Screams came from the valley now, both human and dragon, some screams the cry of fighters, some screams the panicked call of parents to their children. I smelled smoke now, as a house went up in flames, and the air tasted cold and wet as white clouds turned gray and the world darkened.

  Magic ran over my skin, drawing my hairs up like before lightning strikes. I wished that I'd stayed inside, now, or that I had a good place to take shelter. Rain broke out of the clouds, drops as fat as marbles and cold, soaking my clothes in seconds.

  Up in the sky, the rain weighed down the larger dragon wings, and I felt a wind sorcerer moving the air and swaying the battle. If I closed my eyes, I could feel how the combatants cut through the air, how much heavier the dragons were and how much they lightened when one tucked in his wings and spun to shed the water. I felt the air suck out from under one dragon and nudge a drake out of the way of a dragon's dive. I felt bodies plummet through the vacuum beneath them, or soar when they hit a ramp-like cushion.

  I was so enraptured by the battle that I nearly missed the odd dragon as he pulled out from the rest of the group and set his wings into a dive at the ground. He was coming in my direction. My breath caught and I froze, unsure what to do about the green beast hurtling towards me.

  Between him and me I felt the wind as it parted at the dragon's lips, rolled down his neck and split over his wings, humming at the edges of his wing membrane, then swirling with the motion of his tail.

  Calling on all my strength, I whipped the air up at his wings. He compensated by angling downward. I yanked the air down at his shoulders, making even the tops of grass bend with the burst.

  The dragon plummeted from his dive straight into tree limbs. A squeal of agony pierced the air and I felt hot drops of blood tumble to the ground, smelling his scent of molten rock and damp straw.

  Next I knew, I was kneeling in pine needles and my shoulders were wet with rain. Black and purple danced across my vision. I rubbed my eyes, realizing that I needed to remove my ring.

  “Who is there?” called a voice I thought I should recognize.

  Surprise ran through my veins and I instantly wanted to remain hidden. Then, as magic faded from my senses and my vision began to return, I saw the shape of an elderly woman.

  “Agnes?”

  She looked towards where I was. Her brow narrowed, and she said, “Come along! That won't keep him for long.”

  Agnes' face came into focus. I looked around, but the ground blurred with the motion. Pulling my ring off, I went to Agnes, who led me along a narrow path uphill. I trudged behind her, moving so sluggishly that she told me to hurry along at least twice. I barely kept my feet under me until we paused by a door. While her hands shook the handle to make it open, I saw that we were standing at the base of a wall, and the door went into a tower.

  The air was now thick with smoke and screams, but as far as I could tell there weren't very many who had taken the fight to the ground. It seemed less like a battle and more like a brawl.

  The door opened easily once the latch cooperated. Nest went in first, and when I stepped inside I didn't lift my feet high enough. I tripped over the threshold, grabbing a table to keep from falling over entirely. Nest shut the door and the room plunged into darkness.

  “Leoht,” said Nest, and oil sconces on the wall flickered to life, casting darting shadows across rakes and hoes resting against the far wall. The table wobbled when I steadied myself, noticing it was covered in dried flowers and snipped stems.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “I use this as storage. We will wait here until the attack is over. The castle's defenses are active, and I won't go about annoying them. Take a seat,” Nest said, sitting in a chair with tears in the fabric.

  I took an old dining chair which had met several times with claws on its legs. Casting a glance at the way Nest situated herself with a short piece of branch, I said, “You don't seem surprised to see me.”

  “Of course not. I knew it was a matter of time before Feraline Swift came to see us, but I will say I am surprised at the timing,” Agnes said. She pulled a knife out of a leather sheath about her waist, and started to whittle away at the stick.

  “Why?”

  Bits of wood flew as she spoke. The tower made a dull thud as someone hit it, but Agnes didn't look up from her whittling even as I eyed the ceiling with apprehension. Agnes said, “Attacks so rarely happen. The last time we had a visitor during an attack was when Mordon's father came with six warriors and helped us repel the enemy…but I think at the time those were pixies. Thirteen clouds of them, if I remember correctly. I was picking thorn shivs out of hides for a week following.”

  Fascinating though the story was, that did not answer my question. I shook my head. “Why were you expecting me? I received no invitation.”

  Agnes' teeth looked ominously large in the soft light when she smiled at me. “Yes, you did.”

  “Why don't you want to tell me what I want to know?”

  Agnes' whittling stopped. She said, “Would you rather that I cry alarm and have those ropes bind you?”

  I held up both hands. “Alright, alright. Your house, your rules.”

  She stuck out her jaw and jerked it in a nod. “You're going to learn every one of them. And my secrets, but you only get those if you learn the rules first.”

  I had no clue what was going on, but it was without a doubt one of the most curious conversations I had ever had in my life. Since I was rightfully in her home and technically caught trespassing, I thought it would be best to play it nice.

  “Anything you would like me to do?”

  Agnes went back to her whittling. She said, “Just listen to me.”

  And she began to sing a slow, low melody. It was a soft tune, crooning, and one that the rock in the walls seemed to pick up and hum back at her. The light in the sconces grew, and the chill left the room. I eased back in my chair. My eyes grew sore, and I closed them. Agnes' song became distant.

  I was in a sea, surrounded in all sides by black water. I couldn't tell which was was up and which way was down. I tried to swim first one way then the other, but it made no difference. My lungs were burning. I needed air. Panic set in. My heart pounded. I wanted to scream but instinct kept my mouth closed, forcing me to not dare to breathe.

  A bubble escaped my lips and floated upwards. I swam after it, but something snared my pants. I kicked several times and the thing released me. The bubble was waiting for me, but no matter how hard I swam for it, it didn't get any closer. Then I focused on it, and in the metallic sheen of it, I saw Railey's missing-tooth smile beaming at me.

  The bubble changed shape, morphing into the ghost who reached out her hand to me. “Took ya long 'nough,” she said, but the sounds came not from her mouth but from underneath my elbow.

  Her laugh came from next to my ear. “Don'tcha look there, silly. Keep yer eyes on me.”

  She pointed to her chest and began to swim. I followed, and then I wasn't swimming any longer, but was being sucked along a current, going faster and faster until the water rushing by my skin rubbed it raw. Then it was light and we broke the surface of the sea.

  We fell into the sky. I tried to grab the water as it passed my head, but when I did so, my hands closed in on bones. Memories like muscle strained beneath my weight and some peeled away from the bone, revealing runes scratched into the surface, the bone bleeding marrow from the wounds while a stranger's voice recited lines from a Shakespeare In The Park dinner party. That memory wasn't mine. I knew it wasn't, but somehow I remembered it as though I had been there, laughing on a blanket over the lawn and quarreling
with a friend over a slice of cheese from the picnic basket.

  “Let go,” hissed Railey in my ear. “This is no place for you. Not yet. The Lady wouldn't like you being here. Go.”

  My hand wouldn't release, but the body strained and joints dislocated. A half-eaten face lifted empty sockets toward me, and I saw a feathered snake crawl out of its skull.

  It was then I realized that the whole sea was not water, but bodies. Heaps and heaps of bodies. Tears stung my eyes and my chest hurt.

  “They're souls,” hissed Railey. “Now let go.”

  I did.

  The sea and the bones and the memories which weren't my own faded as I drew away from them, until I was just a body suspended in the air, alone in empty sky. All around me were clouds and brilliant light.

  For once, the thought of falling didn't terrify me.

  It freed me.

  I ruled the wind. The wind ruled me. I didn't care which way it was. I loved it, relaxing in the feeling until the clouds closed in and darkness overtook me.