Master of Magic Read online

  “Where is the darkest part of Darklane? Where the worst magic comes from?”

  Her brows dropped low, and she gestured us inside. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Really?” I stepped inside.

  “Of course,” she hissed. “The darkest part of Darklane? Why the hell would you want to go there?”

  “Even we don’t go there.” Aerdeca descended the stairs, her white satin pantsuit gleaming in the light of the chandelier. Her blonde hair fell like slick water around her face.

  “We just need to find it. It’s important.”

  “You’ll die,” Mordaca said.

  “I don’t know, I’m pretty tough.”

  “She is,” Cade said. “You should see her in a fight.”

  I grinned at him.

  “You can’t outfight the Master of the Crypt,” Mordaca said. “One touch and you’re dead.”

  Master of the Crypt? Hopefully we wouldn’t run into him in our pursuit of the Gatekeeper.

  “And he can’t be reasoned with,” Aerdeca said.

  “Not that we know much about it,” Mordaca added.

  Aerdeca nodded, and I studied her dark eyes, believing her. They really didn’t like that place.

  “We really don’t have a choice,” I said. “Where would we find it?”

  Mordaca sighed. “If you insist. It’s in the cemetery, of course. Cliché, I know. But you asked for the darkest place. And the magic there is unmistakable. It’s at the end of the main road. Take a right at The Banshee’s Revenge pub, go to the end of the lane, then left. Once you feel like you want to puke, you’re almost there.”

  “That’ll be two hundred dollars.” Aerdeca held out a hand.

  I scowled at them, digging into my pocket and hoping I’d brought enough cash.

  Cade beat me to it, handing over two crisp bills. “That was quite a bargain.”

  Aerdeca took the money, grinning. “We like you. But since you’ll probably die in there, feel free to empty your pockets so at least your friends get the last of your cash.”

  Mordaca laughed. “She has a point.”

  “We won’t die,” I said. “I’ve got too damned much to fight for to let some dude named the Master of the Crypt get me.”

  “He’s also called the Gatekeeper,” Aerdeca said. “If that helps any.”

  Aaaand damn. Just our luck that the person we were looking for was also the freaking Master of the Crypt.

  “It does help. Thank you.” I turned and left, Cade following.

  “Be careful!” Aerdeca called after us.

  “Don’t lose your head!” Mordaca added.

  “Literally.” Aerdeca’s tone was deadpan.

  “I’ll try not to!” I shouted back.

  We hurried down the street, turning at The Banshee’s Revenge, which was heaving with people this close to evening. The next left took us down a narrow lane by some rickety old houses. Most of them looked abandoned, but yellow eyes peered out from behind the boarded up slats of one window.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” I muttered.

  “It’s about to get worse.”

  I staggered, nausea rolling in my stomach. The sun was behind the horizon now, making it harder to see ahead of us, but I’d bet the buggy that we were nearly to the cemetery.

  Ten more steps revealed a tall iron gate set in a gap in a tall stone wall.

  “Bingo.” Cade’s voice was rough, the nausea no doubt hitting him, too.

  “No wonder people don’t like to come here,” I said.

  “The Master of the Crypt might have had something to do with keeping them away.”

  “Definitely.” I looked up at Cade. “Ready to transform?”

  “Aye, though I don’t fancy spending much time as that bastard, Cocidius.”

  “I know.”

  We’d decided that the best course of action would be to use my illusion power to impersonate Cocidius and Bree. With any luck, we could trick the Gatekeeper into helping us get to the Rebel Gods main realm. Since Cade was a Celtic war god like Cocidius, we hoped that his magic would fool the Gatekeeper. I’d just have to keep mine under control and hope he didn’t figure me out as well.

  “Right. Here it comes.” I envisioned us changing, becoming other people.

  In front of me, Cade’s handsome features shifted to form those of Cocidius. The ugly god appeared, his golden horns gleaming in the light.

  “How about a kiss?” Cade said.

  I stifled a chuckle.

  “Actually, I retract the request,” Cade said. “Now you look like your sister. Too strange.”

  A louder laugh tried to escape, but I bit it back. “You’re sure I look like her?”

  “Aye. And from the grimace on your face, I can tell that I definitely look like Cocidius.”

  “Well, pretend to be a jerk and it’ll help.”

  He saluted, a gesture that I was sure Cocidius had never made.

  I turned to the rusty iron gate and pulled, yanking hard when it stuck solid.

  Cade’s big hand closed around the metal above mine, and I stepped out of the way. One yank, and the gate opened.

  I stepped onto the dark grass, a shiver crawling over my skin. The graveyard was huge, full of ancient tombstones in every shape and size. The sun had set fully, and old gas lamps had burst to life along the path. Most were broken, but the few that flickered weakly shed a creepy light over the place.

  “Why would anyone want to be buried here?” I muttered. “Even the people in Darklane?”

  Cade stepped up next to me, his wary gaze searching the headstones. Fog twined around them, concealing much of the ground.

  “I’ve seen this place in movies,” I said. “Twenty bucks a hand reaches up through a fresh grave.”

  “Zombies?”

  “Definitely.” I stepped forward, my skin chilled to ice. The joke didn’t do much to make me feel better, but points for trying, right?

  A huge, leafless oak rose tall to the left of us. Hundreds of black birds sat upon the branches. One cawed, a sharp screech that rent the night air.

  It took everything I had not to race down the path away from the birds. I’d also seen that movie, and the birds had won.

  I set off down the path, trying to keep my pace sedate. “If he’s called the Master of the Crypt, we should probably find one of those.”

  We walked silently along the path. When several small white buildings appeared in the middle of the graveyard, I pointed to one. Dark magic rolled out from it, a prickling sensation that warned us to go back.

  “That one. Feel it?”

  Cade nodded.

  I fought a retching sensation as I approached the white building. It was one of the larger ones—at least the size of a small house. The white marble was dingy in the light of the moon, and dead vines crawled up the sides.

  I stopped in front of the door. “It’s solid marble. With no handle.”

  “Not meant to be opened by normal means.” He spun around, studying the graveyard. “We’ve seen no fresh dirt. This cemetery hasn’t been used in a while.”

  “Probably only used by the Rebel Gods now. We shouldn’t force it open, because Cocidius wouldn’t have to do that.” I studied the dirty marble, searching for any kind of clue.

  My gaze caught on symbols carved into the stone. They were randomly placed, and varied in shape and size.

  “Hang on,” I murmured. “What did Rowan say?”

  “‘Look for the matching symbols, in order of smallest to largest. Press them.’”

  I’d thought it was a strange bit of advice at the time, but now it might make sense. Excitement thrummed in my chest as I studied them. Yes. This would work. There were actually pairs of symbols, all different sizes.

  Quickly, I pressed my fingers to the symbols in order of smallest to largest. By the time I touched the last ones, magic sparkled at my fingertips.

  A pale light glowed, and the door shifted left. It dragged against the ground, sounding like it too
k enormous effort to open. Dusty air billowed out.

  I coughed, gagging on the nasty taste of dust. Bone dust.

  Blech.

  I stifled the last of my cough and stepped inside the dark room. Pale moonlight filtered in, revealing a four-stone sarcophagi along the walls.

  Cade stepped inside. “Gatekeeper.”

  His voice rang with command, sounding different in his new form. A shudder ran down my spine. I knew he was my Cade, but he sure didn’t seem like it right now.

  A ghostly figure drifted up from one of the sarcophagi. I blinked.

  He had two heads. Or, rather, one head that had two different faces—one facing left and one looking right. One face turned toward us, revealing a fairly normal-looking man with bland features. “Cocidius.”

  The head turned again, and an angrier face glowered at us. It hissed, “Why do you come here?”

  “Manners, Past,” said the other face.

  “Shut up, Future.”

  Past and Future?

  Janus. The two-faced god of the Romans. Also a gatekeeper, if I was remembering correctly. But he was a ghost? And working for the Rebel Gods?

  Dang, they were powerful.

  “We require passage to the headquarters of the Rebel Gods,” Cade said.

  I stood quietly, trying to look unobtrusive. Rowan had looked like a statue most of the times I’d seen her, heavily enchanted.

  Janus drifted closer, the head swiveling as the two faces fought for control.

  “Something is different about you,” Future said.

  “Strange,” hissed Past.

  The two faces were supposed to look toward the future and the past. But their roles seemed to have shifted a bit. It seemed like they were playing Good Cop/Bad Cop with us.

  Janus stopped right in front of us, sniffing. Both faces gasped at once, and my stomach dropped.

  Oh, fates.

  The charade wasn’t working.

  “You are a Celtic god, but not Cocidius,” Future said.

  “Impostors!” hissed Past.

  Double crap.

  Past was definitely the bad cop.

  “They may have a good reason,” Future said. “I sense honor on them. I like it.”

  “Of course you do,” hissed Past. “But we can’t allow them to pass. We have a job.”

  Future sighed. “Of course.”

  Magic surged on the air, making my stomach turn and sweat break out on my skin. Janus swelled in size, his ghostly figure doubling in the course of a moment.

  I gasped and stepped back. Cade drew his sword, but I didn’t bother.

  Death.

  Janus was the god of beginnings and endings—and he would end us. One touch from his ghostly form and we’d drop like flies. I could feel it in his magic. The stink of decay followed by the smell of fresh earth.

  Mordaca had been right. He killed with a touch.

  This was a god of many powers—powers that were impossible to fight.

  3

  “Back up,” I murmured.

  Cade nodded and stepped back. He sensed it, too. Some things in this world could not be fought on an even playing field. I grimaced as my heart thundered impossibly hard.

  We had to convince them. But what did they want?

  Nothing.

  We had nothing to offer a two-faced god who was bent on performing his role of Gatekeeper.

  Janus’s huge form drifted forward, arm outstretched. We were near the door—we could run.

  But it wasn’t an option either. We needed him to lead us.

  Panic fluttered in my chest. My tongue felt thick.

  Then it moved. My tongue moved…without my permission.

  I nearly screamed.

  Speak.

  The voice spoke in my head, low and deep. My tongue twitched again. Oh, crap. I was so not doing that!

  Speak.

  “Hey!” I shouted, startling myself. I had no idea what to say. It was almost as if my body had just shouted for me without control of my mind.

  Janus stopped dead in his tracks.

  Whoa.

  All right. I could work with this. “Turn around.”

  Janus spun, facing the other way. Tension vibrated along his enormous ghostly shoulders. He didn’t want to obey me, but he was. He had to.

  “What are you doing?” Cade asked.

  “No idea.” My mind raced. A new power was clearly coming online—but what? “Who is a bossy Norse god?”

  “Odin?” Cade said.

  It clicked. “Of course. Odin can speak with the dead. Command them, even.”

  “And Janus is a ghost.”

  “I can hear you,” Janus said.

  “Well, hear this,” I said. “You’re going to take us to the portal to the Rebel God’s headquarters.”

  “They don’t call it their headquarters,” Janus scoffed. “Such a modern word.”

  “Well, I’m a modern gal. Now, you’re going to take us there.” I dropped the illusion on Cade and me. No need to waste the magic if it wasn’t working anyway. I had a new trick. “And shrink down to normal size.”

  Janus shrank immediately, turning to glare at us. Well, Past glared at us. The grumpy, mean one. Future smiled.

  “I don’t entirely mind this, you know,” Future said. “All day long we fight for control. At least we’re not fighting now.”

  “Ninny,” Past growled before turning to us. “You know, this isn’t going to be easy. You don’t have clearance to walk this path. I can’t guarantee you will get through alive.”

  “I’m used to danger.” I grinned. “Now, lead on.”

  Past harrumphed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.

  Janus led us from the crypt. The night had grown darker and colder, but the ghost didn’t seem to mind. He led us around tombstones and tree stumps, stopping in front of a tiny crypt that looked about a thousand years old.

  No way that was possible, though. It was a European-style building, and they hadn’t arrived here until the 1800s, as far as I knew.

  Apparently, being a portal to an evil realm was hard on a building.

  “This way,” Past grumbled.

  We followed him into the crypt. Inside, there was a wide set of stairs. Claustrophobia hit me as soon as we started to climb down.

  My breath grew short, and I tried desperately to control it.

  “Are you all right?” Cade murmured from behind me.

  “Fine.” I never got claustrophobia. But these stairs….

  The dark magic that lurked in here made me feel like I was trapped in a grave. And the stairs were endless. We walked for what felt like miles.

  “How much farther?” I asked. “It’s been at least twenty minutes.”

  My thighs burned, and I couldn’t imagine trying to hike back up.

  “A while.” Past cackled.

  It was over an hour before we reached the bottom. My skin was damp with sweat by the time we arrived, but at least the fear had faded.

  “We must be more than a mile underground,” Cade said. “Is that even possible?”

  “With magic, anything is possible,” Past said.

  “This way now. Don’t dawdle, or they’ll get you!” Future added.

  “They?” I mouthed, glancing at Cade.

  He shrugged and drew his sword. “We’ll find out.”

  I set off after Janus, who led us through the large tunnel. A pale white light shined from the ceiling, shedding an eerie glow over the place. The tunnel grew wider as we walked, finally opening up onto a street that reminded me of the Vaults in Edinburgh.

  But it was much larger.

  And full of ghosts.

  We stepped onto the main street, which was bordered on either side by small buildings. People flitted by the windows within, and the sounds of life filtered past.

  “Who are these people?” I studied the inside of a tavern, where ghosts caroused around a band that played in the middle of the ro
om.

  “The music is bloody awful,” Cade said.

  “The dead aren’t as particular,” Future said. “These are the souls of those who once worshipped the Rebel Gods. Their magic helps fuel the portal now. And protects it from unwanted visitors.”

  “Like you.” Past turned to glare at us.

  I ignored him. “Where is the portal?”

  “Farther along.” Janus picked up the pace. Future glared at a figure that stepped out of the house to our right.

  The ghostly man was dressed in ancient robes, his face looking like it’d been hewn from stone. His gaze landed on us, then his eyes blazed with interest. “Intruders.”

  “No,” Past snapped. “You are confused.”

  “Intruders.” The man stepped closer to us.

  Cade held out his sword, tip pointed toward the man’s belly. He ignored it, stepping forward again. The blade pierced his stomach, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “Get us out of here alive, Janus,” I commanded. Magic flowed out from my tongue, sparkling across the tip.

  This was one badass power.

  “Don’t touch the ghosts,” Past said. “Else you will become one.”

  Shit. “Deadly touch?”

  “Precisely,” Past said. “Like mine.”

  Cade yanked his blade out, and we hurried on. I glanced back over my shoulder, heart pounding.

  The man followed us slowly, brow creased.

  “Is this what you meant by the path not being easy?” I asked.

  “Exactly,” Future said. “I am your guide. An escort. Not a ticket in. If you aren’t a Rebel God or one of their invited, there will be protective enchantments to stop you.”

  “Therefore, I highly recommend that you cease your hold on me and depart this fool plan!” Past said.

  “Sorry, pal, can’t do that.” I peeked back again.

  The man had gained on us. He hadn’t given us much head start to begin with, so he’d be on us again any second.

  “Stop!” I commanded him, feeding my magic into the order.

  The words sparkled on my tongue, and the ghostly man halted. He scowled.

  Then he howled.

  Oh, shit. “Be quiet!”

  He snapped his mouth shut, but it was too late.

  Figures had spilled from the doors. Men and women, all in different types of dress. All of different cultures. There were dozens.