Institute of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Druid Book 1) Page 7

  It crashed back into the water, sparkly black scales shining in the light of my ring. Red eyes blazed with a demonic light, and the scent of dark magic surrounded it. Its blood flowed into the water, making it boil.

  “They’re magic,” he said. “Not real.”

  “Guarding something.” I stepped up to the edge of the platform and peered down, my heart hammering. “We’d better get a move on.”

  We hurried from the spot, keeping our gazes on the water beneath us. I glanced at Lachlan as we walked, taking in the controlled nature of his being.

  He was like a tiger, always waiting to pounce. Ready for anything.

  It was a warrior’s stance. His stock and trade might be creating great magic to sell, but that wasn’t all he was good at. If I couldn’t have Bree or Rowan at my back in a fight, he was a good alternative.

  As we walked, the air began to smell fouler. At first, I thought it might be the sewage. Were we coming to a particularly rank section?

  But then my skin began to prickle.

  “Dark magic,” I whispered.

  Lachlan nodded. “Close.”

  His magic swelled briefly on the air, the scent of pine cutting through the stink. I looked at him curiously.

  “Blocking our sound, in case we’re close.”

  “Ah.” I remembered how Bree had said she couldn’t hear us when she was eavesdropping. “You’d make a good thief.”

  “In another life, maybe.”

  Of course. This Lachlan was far too honorable for thievery. I was, too, now, though I hadn’t always been. There were parts of my childhood—the parts after my mother’s murder—where thievery had been the only way my sisters and I could eat.

  I shook away the dark memories and focused on the sewer. We were entering an older part, where the brick looked more broken and the stone walkway more battered.

  The dark magic was stronger here, and my heart began to pound.

  We were close to something.

  Up ahead, the passage branched off to the right.

  Lachlan slowed as we neared, and I followed suit. The sound of voices filtered out from the passage on the right. There had to be a room there.

  Up ahead, the sound of footsteps approached from another passage.

  The Cats of Catastrophe, who’d been following along, hurtled off down the passage, hunting the owners of the footsteps. Lachlan and I pressed ourselves up against the wall, listening to the people in the room.

  I crouched low, and he went high. We were crushed against the stone and against each other, but the sound of voices distracted me from the warmth of his body.

  “When do we take it to her?”

  “Soon. We have to wait for the signal. It’s not safe to bring it until the sorcerer is ready.”

  “Not safe how? Sitting here with this thing is dangerous! People are after it!”

  It? Were they talking about the spell that Lachlan had created? Were these our thieves?

  Something in me screamed yes!

  It might have been the new power that was trying to grow within me, or maybe it was common sense.

  I looked up at Lachlan, whose big body loomed over me as he attempted to peer around the edge of the passage.

  Well, if he was looking, I wanted to see, too.

  I peeked around the edge of the stone passage, spotting a room within. About twenty feet away, a group of demons and mages sat around a rickety table. A paper-wrapped package sat on the table between them.

  Bingo.

  I caught sight of silver circles tattooed on the backs of the necks that I could see. What was that all about?

  “When will she want it?” one of the mages asked. He was a skinny guy with dark hair and mean eyes. “It’s not safe here. For the spell, or for us.”

  “We’re supposed to wait until she finds the sorcerer!”

  I glanced up at Lachlan. How did he want to play this?

  His gaze was glued on the group and the package, calculation in his eyes.

  There were a lot of mages and demons in there—an even dozen—but we could take them if we had to.

  “Oy! Who’s there?” one of the voices shouted.

  Panic flared as I looked back down at the group, just in time to see a massive fireball hurtle toward us. It glowed orange and fierce, and was easily the size of a small car.

  I lunged away from the wall as it plowed into the corner. It hit the stone with such force that chips of rock flew off. One sliced across my cheek, and pain flared briefly.

  It was forgotten as I scrambled to my feet. Lachlan hopped up beside me.

  “Go!” He led the way, racing into the chamber and blocking the way so he’d take the brunt of any oncoming hit.

  My heart thundered as I followed. This was our only chance. We’d alerted them, and they’d run. We had to get that package before they escaped.

  As he raced for the group, magic swirled around him. It flashed bright, then a lion stood in his place. His fur and mane were pitch-black, a strange combination that was both beautiful and terrifying.

  The beast that was Lachlan charged the demons. A demon threw a fireball, and I dived low, skidding on the ground as the hot flame passed overhead.

  As I lunged to my feet, I drew my daggers from the ether.

  The demons and mages were scrambling within, trying to mount their defense as Lachlan charged. He hit two of them at once, taking them to the ground.

  I threw my daggers at two more, taking out a gray smoke demon and the fire demon who’d tried to turn me into a roast turkey. My steel blades sank into their throats, blood spraying.

  As I called two more daggers from the ether, Lachlan rampaged through the room, taking out demons as fast as they could hurl their magic at him. He plowed through smoke bombs and dodged massive icicles, tearing limb from limb.

  A shining blue icicle hurtled toward me, forcing me to dodge left to avoid the blow. It sailed so close to my cheek that I could feel the cold.

  I ignored it, frantically searching the room for the package.

  It was tucked under the arm of a skinny guy with blond hair and a rat’s face. He was fumbling in his pocket, clearly searching for something.

  A transportation charm!

  It had to be. If he found it, he could disappear from here in seconds.

  I threw my dagger at him. He seemed to sense it coming at the last minute and shifted. The blade sank into his shoulder.

  He howled, panic flashing across his face.

  I raised my other dagger, but pain tore through my shoulder, sending agony racing through my arm.

  I looked down. A tiny dagger stuck out of my flesh.

  I looked up, catching sight of a skinny little demon with pale skin and red horns.

  “A taste of your own medicine,” the demon hissed as he drew another blade from the satchel at his side.

  I flung out my hand, creating a barrier between us and him.

  The mage with the package was still fumbling in his many pockets, and Lachlan was working on the last six demons. He’d already mauled four of them.

  The little white demon’s blade bounced off my shield.

  Pain sliced me through the middle, and my shield flickered.

  I looked down, gasping.

  There was no dagger protruding from my middle, though it sure felt like it.

  My shield faded. Lachlan roared, a sound of obvious pain. Magic flared around him, and he shifted back to human.

  Right in the middle of five demons.

  His face was white and drawn. He looked like agony was tearing him apart. Just how I felt. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to stay upright. But he managed to draw his sword and turn toward the demons.

  What the hell was going on? Panic made my heart race.

  The little white demon hurled another blade. I was too weak and slow to stop it, and it sank into my thigh.

  I ignored the demon who was hurling blades at me and looked to the mage with the package. I had one job here, and I had to fin
ish it.

  Shaking, I dragged a blade from the ether and hurled it at him, but weakness made my aim wonky.

  The mage dodged the steel, pulling a little stone from his pocket.

  “Lachlan!” I screamed. “Transport charm!”

  But Lachlan was fighting for his life. His skill was still incredible—I’d never seen someone fight so well. Not even me and Bree, and that was saying something. But his speed was like that of a normal man’s—not the crazy whirlwind I’d seen before. And he used no magic. Where the hell was his magic?

  He was incredible with his blades, but he was far outnumbered by enormous demons. He needed his magic. They were overpowering him, delivering as many cuts as he gave to them.

  My gaze darted to the mage with the package. He hurled a stone to the ground. Glittery black dust puffed up, and he stepped inside, disappearing.

  I stumbled to my knees, pain taking me down.

  The little white demon approached me, a grin on his face. The dagger gripped in his hand gleamed, but he didn’t throw it. Clearly he wanted to make the kill up close.

  “Bastard.” I spit. Pain tore through my thigh and my shoulder where his other blades had hit.

  I called a dagger from the ether, but came up short.

  I was out.

  Shit.

  So I called on my sword.

  On the other side of the room, the five demons abandoned their attack on Lachlan so they could race to the dissipating cloud of glittery black dust. They leapt through it, escaping the sewers before the transportation charm faded.

  I staggered to my feet, facing the demon who approached.

  I couldn’t kill him—I needed to be able to question him.

  He took one look at my blade, then my face. Indecision flickered over his ugly mug, and he hurled his knife. I dodged, barely, and the steel sliced over my arm.

  “Bitch,” he hissed, then ran.

  He sprinted for the last of the black cloud. It was nearly gone. He might not make it. Too weak to chase, I threw my sword. It hurtled end over end and then plowed into his leg. He stumbled, giving it one last burst of speed, and made it through the glittery cloud, disappearing.

  I stumbled to my knees.

  Shit.

  Triple shit.

  “What happened?” I croaked.

  Lachlan didn’t answer. He was laid out on the ground on the other side of the room, surrounded by the disappearing bodies of the demons he’d felled.

  I crawled to him, my wounds aching. Blood dripped down my arms and thigh, leaving a gruesome trail.

  Lachlan was rising to sit, his face twisted in pain. Gashes covered his torso, the claws of some demon that had gone to town once he’d shifted back to his human form.

  “Are you all right?” His gaze trailed over my body, concern replacing the usual blankness.

  “Sorta?” I wasn’t quite sure. The pain and blood loss were making me woozy. “You?”

  “Same.” Pain echoed in his voice, and frustration.

  We’d lost the lead.

  He dug into his pocket and withdrew a little vial. He uncorked it and took a tiny sip, leaving the vast majority of the potion in the bottle. Then he handed it to me. “Drink.”

  I didn’t ask questions, just swilled the liquid. Warmth and comfort flowed through me immediately, relaxing my muscles and clearing my mind.

  “What’s in that stuff?” I asked.

  “Healing potion. Enough for one.”

  “Thanks for sharing.” My wounds weren’t fully healed, but they were a bit better. Enough that I had the strength to stand.

  So did he, staggering to his feet.

  I stumbled toward the body of a disappearing demon. Its arms and legs were almost invisible now as the body returned to the underworld. I fell to my knees and dug through the creature’s pockets. Demons didn’t normally carry ID, but maybe I’d get lucky.

  On the other side of the room, Lachlan did the same.

  After a minute, there wasn’t enough of the demon left to search.

  “I’ve got nothing,” I said.

  “Aye, same here.”

  I staggered toward him. He wasn’t looking much better.

  “What the hell happened to us?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Felt like my magic was being sucked out,” he said.

  “Can you make a portal?”

  “I can try.” He held out his hand. His magic barely flared.

  Shit.

  Slowly, a hazy portal appeared. Sweat dotted his brow, and his arm shook.

  “Go!” he said.

  I leapt through, letting the ether suck me in.

  7

  After a whirlwind ride, the ether spat me out in a field in the country. The moon shined brightly, and night bugs made a racket, chirping and screeching. I stumbled away from the portal exit, and Lachlan appeared, staggering.

  “That was the last of my magic.” His voice was strained, weak.

  Fear turned my blood to ice. What was happening to us?

  “Where are we?” I asked. We needed to be somewhere safe to figure this out.

  “My country home.” He pointed behind me, and I turned, spotting a pretty manor house that looked historic, though I couldn’t pinpoint an age.

  My feet felt like lead as I staggered toward it. Lachlan wrapped an arm around my waist, supporting me. Together, we stumbled toward the large stone barn in the backyard.

  The heavy wooden door looked impossibly heavy as we neared. Lachlan pressed his right hand to a metal medallion set into the wood, and it glowed golden.

  Magic sparked, and the door swung open. We stepped inside.

  The scents of hundreds of magics bombarded me. Tables were cluttered with all manner of magical tools, herbs, and jars. He led me to one, his trembling hands seeking two large blue vials.

  He handed one to me. “Drink.”

  I gripped the container in one hand, sinking to my knees near the wall. Apparently I’d lost more blood than I’d thought. I spun around to sit with my back against the wall. He joined me, and we quickly swilled our potions.

  I rested my head against the stone wall as warmth and strength flowed through my body. Through bleary eyes, I stared at the ceiling above.

  “It’s a full dose.” His voice sounded stronger. “You should feel better in a bit.”

  “You only travel with one potion?”

  “I’m used to working alone.”

  “Maybe bring two from now on?”

  He chuckled. “I will.”

  My vision began to clear as my body healed. Suddenly, I realized that I was leaning against his shoulder. His heat burned me, making my breath catch. I looked over at him, catching sight of him looking at me.

  His dark eyes were warm as they traveled over my face.

  My heart thundered.

  Why did people call him cold? He wasn’t that way. Not with me.

  It almost looked as if he were leaning toward me, his eyes on my lips. Then reality seemed to hit him, and he looked away. The shutters closed over his eyes again. “We have a problem. Two problems.”

  “Our magic and the spell.”

  “Aye. Something happened back there. I had no control. My magic leached away like water pouring out of a tipped-over bucket. And when I made the portal to come here, it felt like I was using up the last of my power.”

  “My shield just faltered and died.” Which actually wasn’t that weird. My magic had been going haywire lately. But I’d felt the same pain he had, and it definitely felt like something was even more wrong inside of me. Though there was kind of an explanation for my magic faltering, there wasn’t one for Lachlan. Or for the pain we’d felt.

  That was the scary part.

  Lachlan climbed to his feet.

  “What are you doing?” I really didn’t want to get up yet. Though my wounds no longer stung, every part of me ached. It felt like I’d run a marathon. No, two marathons.

  “I’m going to test my magic. I won’t go far. Stay here.
” His voice was unusually gentle. He looked away quickly, then went to the open door and stepped out. True to his word, he went no farther.

  I watched his broad shoulders as he raised his hands. Nothing happened.

  I sniffed the air, hoping for a hint of pine. Or maybe the taste of caramel on my tongue.

  I smelled nothing. Tasted nothing.

  Shit.

  He’d tried to control the weather or move water or something and it hadn’t worked.

  He turned, his face dark. “Someone put a curse on us. I couldn’t move the water in the nearby river.”

  “How do you know it’s a curse?”

  “It’s the only thing that could do something like this.” He shook his head as he sat down. “But I didn’t see any of the mages use any magic that could do this.”

  “Not to mention, it’s got to take a lot of power.”

  “An immense amount.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think our magic is actually gone. We’d feel a hell of a lot worse if they’d stolen it. But it’s dampened somehow.”

  I tried to make a shield, but nothing happened. My magic was cold and dark inside me. I swallowed hard, fear rising.

  I’d never felt this before.

  But it was awful.

  And it wasn’t even as bad as it could be.

  I had no idea if my missing magic was the result of this curse or a side effect of the Dragon God powers coming alive.

  Probably both, with my luck.

  “And we’ve lost all trace of the spell.” His head thudded back against the wall. “Our only lead.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. “Um, not exactly.”

  He turned his head, dark eyes suddenly interested. “Oh? Isn’t your magic dead?”

  “It is. But I have a clue.” I called my dagger from the ether—the same one that I’d sent into the body of the mage who’d escaped with the spell. Fortunately, the ether storage spell was magic that didn’t come from me. I’d bought it, so it still worked.

  I held the blade up so Lachlan could see. The steel glinted dark red in the light. Dried blood coated the metal.

  “I bought the cheaper storage spell, you see.” I smiled. “Couldn’t afford the one that cleaned my blades as well as kept them stored away.”