Allie Beckstrom 09 - Magic for a Price

  “Ah, Son, no,” Maeve said. “You already took that test.”

  “When?”

  “When we died for each other,” Terric said softly.

  Shame glared at him. “I didn’t die for…”

  Terric held him with a patient gaze.

  Shame shut his mouth. Must have finally figured out there was no use denying it when we all knew the truth.

  “Terric,” Maeve said, “let’s begin with you. Please cast a small Light spell.”

  I decided it was time to find a wall, and walked to the far end of the room, at the head of the table.

  Zayvion drew a glyph in the air, but didn’t pull magic up into it yet, holding it ready for when or if Terric or Shame slipped.

  Terric traced a Disbursement, waited for the Proxy to connect, and drew a small, beautiful spell of Light that looked like a lacy globe. He called magic into it, and the globe became visible, glowing in front of him with a butter-soft light.

  “Can you control it?” Maeve asked.

  Terric nodded, then made the light grow to the size of a basketball, then shrink to a pinpoint.

  “Let it go,” Maeve said.

  The light winked out.

  “Shame, please cast a small Light spell.”

  Light was one of the easiest spells to cast, and usually one of the first anyone learned. It really couldn’t do much harm.

  Shame drew a Disbursement, set it free to Proxy, and as soon as the returning ribbon slipped around his wrist, he traced a basic no-frills Light spell. It popped into existence with a snap of red, then rolled into a hot orange flicker.

  “Control it,” Maeve said.

  Shame whispered and the light became a single candle flame; then he said another word and the light roared out into a heatless fireball.

  He extinguished it with a flick of his fingers.

  “Very good.” Maeve sounded relieved. Was she that worried that they wouldn’t be able to handle the simplest of magic?

  “Now,” she said, “cast Light together.”

  Terric looked at Shame. “How do you want to do it?”

  “Quickly, so I can get a drink.”

  “Cast, then combine?”

  “And hope we don’t blow up the place.”

  “Let’s hope for a little more than that,” Terric said.

  The faint pink Disbursement spell was still wrapped around Terric’s wrist from his last cast. Shame was holding a thin tether of Disbursement for Proxy on his wrist too. The price of this spell would be paid by someone else.

  When Shame and Terric stood this close together, the glow around Terric seemed to dim to a more normal level. He was still radiating charisma, but it wasn’t so strong, so alluring. Shame looked more normal too. The darkness around him thinned to flickering tendrils of smoke that drifted gently around him.

  Terric drew Light.

  And so did Shame.

  Then they pulled magic up into the glyphs. Just as before, Terric’s Light spell was a soft lacy orb, and Shame’s was a ball of flame.

  They each sent the spells closer together, their movements in perfect synch. The two spells joined and the orb flickered with orange flame. A beautiful combined spell of Light.

  “Very nice,” Maeve said. “Now make it smaller and larger.”

  Terric pulled magic up from the ground. It leaped to his hands like lightning, and burned there, a crackling stream of pure white light snapping with gold.

  That was a lot of magic. Too much magic for such a small spell.

  Shame drew on magic. It burned upward into his hands like black fire, a ragged river of black heat. Hard, strong.

  Magic is invisible to the bare eye. Shame and Terric could not see what the magic looked like as it poured into their hands. But I could.

  White and black magic arced between them, light and darkness biting, clashing, and finally, blending. Shame and Terric didn’t say anything. They didn’t have to. Soul Complements knew what the other was thinking. Or at least Zayvion and I did. Even if Shame and Terric couldn’t read each other’s minds, they were certainly working magic as if they had an intimate knowledge of what the other was going to do.

  It was more than a little hypnotizing to watch them work magic together.

  I licked my lips, and wished I were standing next to Zay. Wished he and I were joined together, lost in the magic between us.

  Hot white magic jumped from Terric’s hand to Shame’s, becoming ebony flame that dripped from Shame’s fingertips back into the ground.

  With his other hand, Shame pulled magic out of the ground. It leaped to Terric’s palm and melted into gold and white drops that slipped through his fingers, falling back to the ground.

  Within that loop, that infinite band of drawing on the magic given and releasing the magic taken, the Light spell changed and changed until it crackled with unmatched brilliance.

  Then two sets of hands adjusted the spell and the light grew smaller and smaller until it was only the tiniest speck, like the glitter of a single star resting in the space between them.

  That kind of work, that kind of finesse in joint-spell manipulation, took a hell of a lot of concentration.

  Without any outward signal I could see, the light began to grow. Shame glanced at Terric with a satisfied smirk. Terric chuckled as he exhaled slowly, sharing some silent, private connection that made me ache again for Zayvion.

  Terric and Shame threw their hands wide.

  The loop of magic between them spun into a spiral around them, the symbol for infinity. The Light spell grew larger until it was big enough to engulf them. Then it pushed outward, lacy orange fire reaching up to the huge crystal chandelier and setting it to glow, with diamonds and firelight covering every inch of its surface.

  “Beautiful,” I said. And beautiful didn’t even cover it. The magic danced through every crystal, as if winged creatures out of some kind of fairy tale fluttered there.

  Zay lifted his hands, waiting, ready to Ground if the magic slipped their grip.

  The cinnamon sweetness of the Block spell Maeve was supporting around the room grew strong enough to make my eyes water. The Block strained to keep the magic Terric and Shame gleefully pulled upon contained in this room. The sheer weight of magic in the air pressed like hands on my shoulders.

  The Light spell grew brighter, rays touching the corners of the room, falling like warm honey as it caressed faces, hands.

  When the spell touched me, the magic caught fire to the patterns of magic down my arms, bringing the metallic markings alive like incandescent flame that wound down to wrap each of my fingertips.

  I glanced around the room. It wasn’t just me. We were all glowing.

  Shame and Terric shifted their stance, drawing new spells in the air between them, and pulling even more magic into the room.

  Shame no longer looked sick, tired, dead.

  He burned with light, just as mesmerizing as Terric had been, just as alluring. Except Terric had shone with pure angelic light. Shame, on the other hand, radiated darkness and sin, blackness and a hard edge that drew my eye and made my pulse beat faster. He was beautiful. Forbidden. And promising every dark desire with those emerald eyes.

  What did you know? Sexy dead.

  Terric, in contrast, no longer looked as angelic. The magic around him carved him into something so powerful as to feel alien. He was gold and white light, his blue eyes heartless, cold, judging.

  And they were pulling on more magic. So much more.

  “Zay?” I said, taking a step backward and bumping into the wall behind me.

  Whatever Shame and Terric were doing, whatever it was they were becoming from using magic together as Soul Complements, I wasn’t sure it was a good thing, a safe thing.

  I wanted my friends to use magic.

  I didn’t want them to become it.

  The floor trembled as darkness fed light and light bloomed from darkness. Magic burned to ash only to catch fire again. Shame and Terric called magic as easily as breat
hing, commanding it to rise, fall, extinguish, and live to the beat of their hearts.

  The walls shook, the chandelier rattled and chimed. The Block spell seared the satin wallpaper to a black crisp.

  So much magic, so much power. I couldn’t breathe.

  “Enough!” Zayvion cast the Ground spell.

  Magic exploded in a flash of light. Darkness poured into its wake.

  And for several heartbeats all I did was try to breathe.

  I blinked hard, trying to adjust to the darkness and lack of magic in the room. Only it wasn’t dark—the room was lit. Normal electricity seemed feeble compared to the light Shame and Terric had just called upon.

  Shame and Terric were on the floor. Maeve was already hurrying over to them. So was Zayvion.

  I just stood there, stunned, unable to figure out what had happened. It had been only a minute, maybe two, since they drew on magic. But that had been a staggering amount of magic for two people to use together.

  Maeve knelt next to Shame, her hand trembling as she pressed fingertips against his neck.

  “They’re alive,” she said, checking Terric’s pulse next.

  The door burst opened and Kevin strode into the room. “What the hell just happened?”

  “They used magic,” I said. “Together.”

  He lifted his phone. “That was Thomas over at the Proxy pool. Every Proxy working the day shift for the Authority just passed out.”

  “All of them?” Maeve said.

  “All of them.”

  “Is that why Shame and Terric passed out?” I asked.

  “No,” Zayvion said quietly. “Shame and Terric passed out because they blew the Proxies.”

  Everyone was silent for a second. I wasn’t grasping the scope of the situation.

  “How many Proxies were working?”

  “Three hundred,” Kevin said.

  Okay. Now I got it. They had pulled on so much magic that the price to pay for it had knocked three hundred people unconscious. Well, three hundred and two, counting Shame and Terric.

  Holy shit.

  I looked down at Shame and Terric—two men who had lived and died for each other, two men who could use magic like I’d never seen before—and wondered who or what they really were now.

  Soul Complements, Dad said quietly in my head. Even he sounded afraid.

  Chapter Three

  “It was just a Light spell,” Maeve supplied over our silence.

  “They blew all the Proxies?” I repeated slowly. “All of them?”

  “Thomas doesn’t exaggerate,” Kevin said. “Do they need Dr. Fischer? A hospital?”

  “I don’t think so,” Maeve said. “Let’s give them a few minutes and see if they come to. Kevin, do you have any medical equipment here?”

  “The staff isn’t here today, but I can pull up the list of what we have in inventory and get that for you.” He started toward the door, then put his hand on the doorknob. “Everyone’s coming,” he said to me. “We’ll be ready in less than twenty minutes.”

  “Good,” I said. “We’ll be there.”

  Zay was already trying to get Shame and Terric into more comfortable positions, rolled onto their backs, legs straightened instead of where they’d fallen in a heap.

  I bent down to help with Shame.

  “Maybe we can move them to beds?” Maeve asked.

  She was looking at me expectantly. Right. Other than Shame and Terric, Zay and I were the only Soul Complements around.

  “I think distance from each other might make it harder on them,” I said, standing back up again. “Especially since they were working so closely together to use magic.”

  Maeve nodded and checked their pulses again.

  “We need to have a plan,” I said. “Less than twenty minutes until everyone in the Authority will be here.”

  Zayvion straightened and slipped his arm down my back, mine sliding around his waist. “Have you talked to Violet about the disks?”

  “Using them to cleanse the wells? Briefly, yesterday. She said she’ll bring the remaining disks here so we can use them if we need too. She should be here any minute.”

  I glanced back down at Shame and Terric. I didn’t want to leave to see if Violet was here until I knew if they were going to be okay. “They weren’t anywhere close to controlling that spell.”

  “Obviously.” Zay smiled. “No one’s ever knocked out every Proxy in Portland.”

  “Was that every Proxy?”

  “Only the day crew. Still, impressive.”

  “And frightening,” I said.

  His hand tightened on my hip. If that’s the way Terric and Shame were going to pull on magic, they’d kill themselves before they finished drawing the first line of a spell. We could not afford to lose three hundred people to pay the price for their spells every time they cast simple magic. They would be useless in a fight.

  “They can’t work magic together,” I said.

  “They’re not dead,” Zay pointed out.

  “They should be. Three hundred Proxies? For a Light spell?”

  “It was their first time,” Zay said. “I think they got a little…drunk on the power. It’s a heady thing to find yourself soul-to-soul with someone who perfectly matches you. It’s very hard to stay in control.”

  A thrill of need stroked a low, slow heat beneath my skin, burning down my stomach to my thighs. Just thinking about casting magic with Zayvion, held by him, holding him, made me want to take a quick break from all this serious business and opt for some sexy-private time.

  Shame moaned, then swore. “Hell. What. Ter?”

  Then a little louder, a little panicked, “Terric?”

  “He’s right here, Son,” Maeve said. “Still unconscious. You knocked yourselves out.”

  Shame slipped his hand from his eyes and looked up at his mother.

  The blackness around him seemed to have faded some. I wondered if the physical distance between him and Terric made some sort of difference in how magic manifested around them. When Shame was near Terric the blackness wasn’t so encompassing. He seemed less skeletal, less death-y. When Terric was near Shame, that fall-to-your-knees charisma and light damped down.

  Yin-yang.

  Maeve shook her head, but she was smiling. “You never do anything in a small way, do you?”

  “What? And be boring?” Shame exhaled a shaky breath. “Can’t have that.”

  She and Zay helped Shame sit. He stared at Terric, who was still out. An expression of respect crossed Shame’s face. He swallowed, and shook his head just slightly. Then, with what looked like some effort, he looked away from Terric, to us.

  “Tell me we blew something up in a most spectacular way.” His hand trembled as he dug in his pocket for cigarettes.

  “No, not really,” Zay said, without a trace of a smile. “Well, you did blow through a few Proxies.”

  Shame tapped the pack in his hand and slipped a cigarette free. “Few?”

  “Three hundred,” Zay said, obviously enjoying this.

  “Fucking ballsicles. Are you shitting me?”

  “Every damn Proxy on duty in the city.”

  Shame smiled. No, Shame grinned. It was a wicked, wicked thing. “Top that, Jones.”

  “Don’t have to,” Zay said, pulling me in a little tighter. “We took on Leander and Isabelle.”

  “Sure, but they got free, didn’t they?” He nodded toward Terric as he slipped the cigarette in his mouth. “We killed Jingo Jingo.”

  “As I remember it, there were a few other people on that battlefield doing their part so you could kill him. And Allie and I didn’t have to die to take down Leander and Isabelle,” Zay said.

  “Dying, schmying. How many Proxies have you blown through today?”

  “This is not a contest, boys,” Maeve said.

  “C’mon, Mum.” Shame patted his pocket for a lighter. “Z here has been trying to get me to admit Ter and I can use magic together for years. And now that we’ve done it—better tha
n he and his girl there—”

  “Girl has a name,” I reminded him.

  “You can’t expect me not to rub it in a little.”

  “Jesus,” Terric said softly. “Shame?”

  “Over here,” Shame said.

  Terric blinked up at the ceiling. “What the hell?”

  “Mostly magic,” I said. “And mostly impressive magic.”

  “Yay?” he said.

  “Do you feel like sitting?” Maeve asked.

  “I don’t know. I can try.”

  Zay and I helped Terric sit. He looked at Shame, waiting, I thought, for Shame’s normal rebuke.

  “We blew three hundred Proxies,” Shame said smugly. “Smoke?” He offered the pack of cigarettes.

  “Three hundred?” Terric took the pack, tapped out a cigarette. I’d never seen him smoke. He handed Shame back the pack and just sort of held the cigarette in his hand, as if he didn’t remember it was there. He looked up at Maeve, then Zay and me.

  Concern, and maybe a little panic, clouded his eyes. “Are they all right? Is everyone all right?”

  “We had all the safeties in place,” Maeve said. “The Proxy spells blew, but the people paying the price for your magic aren’t harmed. They probably won’t be able to Proxy for a few weeks though.”

  “Thomas is getting a second line in place,” Zay said.

  “Jesus,” Terric said again. “Jesus, Shame.”

  Shame slanted him a look. “You’re the one who wanted this.”

  “I wanted us to use magic together, yes,” Terric said, groaning as he pushed up onto his feet. He made it, even though he held his hands out to the side for a second before getting his balance. “I didn’t want us to lay out half of the Proxy pool.”

  Shame shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  “No.” Terric rubbed his fingers over his eyes. “It is a mess. Next time we do that, if we do it, we Proxy our own price. And we make damn sure magic doesn’t become…”

  Shame just watched him, waiting for the rest of the sentence. Maybe daring him to say that what they had done—cast magic together—was wrong.

  “…dangerous,” Terric finally said. “We need better control.”