Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic Page 9

  The warrior was moving even before I’d finished shouting my warning. He lifted his sword to knock the katana aside, but he only caught its edge.

  The twisted blade clipped him in the forehead.

  He stumbled.

  He stumbled.

  My father stumbled.

  Blood flooded down across his brow, obscuring his left eye. For a brief, mind-numbing moment, I saw the white bone of his skull. Then the gash on his forehead began to knit together.

  As it ricocheted off Yazi’s head, the katana disappeared into another flash of carrot-cake-imbued magic.

  Shailaja laughed, stepping out from the shelter of the artifacts piled behind the ivory Buddha. She was holding the mangled katana.

  “Come play, warrior.” She giggled.

  Crazy, stupid bitch.

  Though I could say one thing for her. When she went all in, she stuck with it.

  My father moved in a blur of golden magic. He had Shailaja by her neck and off her feet before I could take a second step.

  She gurgled another giggle as I ran toward them.

  The warrior had played right into her hands.

  Another portal opened over their heads. A small, diamond-crusted gold box dropped from it, breaking open as it smashed onto the warrior’s head. Three rainbow-colored silk braids tumbled from the box. Sorcerer alchemy, tasting faintly of moss and honeysuckle, trilled through the chamber.

  Shailaja’s face was turning pink.

  I would have sworn I was running as fast as I could, yet somehow I wasn’t moving at all.

  Another portal opened underneath the tumbling braids. Winking in and out of existence, it swallowed the instrument of assassination, then deposited the braids on the warrior’s neck, directly into the gap in his hard-shell armor.

  Yazi went stock-still. Then he began to convulse.

  Shailaja’s face was turning purple. Despite the effect the braids were having on him, the warrior was still strangling her.

  I was three steps away.

  The rabid koala swung wildly, bringing the katana into play. She sliced the edge of the twisted blade across the warrior’s neck.

  Blood spurted.

  He dropped her.

  Shailaja fell, sprawling across the marble floor and gasping for breath.

  I kicked her in the face.

  Her head and shoulders snapped back. Slack jawed and completely discombobulated, she spun away across the smooth floor.

  I stalked toward her, raising my jade knife for a killing blow.

  Then the warrior fell.

  The marble underneath my feet buckled. I lost my footing. Shailaja found hers, slamming a kick to my gut that threw me tumbling back over my fallen father.

  I scrambled to my hands and knees as Shailaja dove away. She rolled, gaining her feet and dashing beyond the nearest pile of artifacts.

  I threw myself at my father, plucking the braids from his neck. They had burned through skin, muscle, and tendon to reveal the white of his spine. He was foaming at the mouth, but he stopped convulsing the moment I got the instrument of assassination off him.

  I shoved the braids into the front pocket of my jeans, then pressed my hands to the other wound in his neck.

  My katana … my katana could cut a guardian. And not just cut. It could actually deal a blow that could cause my father to stumble.

  The idea was ridiculous.

  I could taste Shailaja’s magic. She was nearby, refocusing. The wound at my father’s neck wouldn’t stop bleeding. And Pulou felt as though he was miles away.

  I couldn’t protect both guardians.

  Hysterical laughter bubbled through my throat and past my lips before I could stop it. It really wasn’t the right time to realize that being the only one standing over defenseless guardians was utterly paralyzing.

  I yanked my T-shirt off and clumsily tied it around Yazi’s neck. Then, forcing myself to ignore the undeniable fact that I wasn’t strong enough to do so, I grabbed his ankles and started dragging him back toward the treasure keeper.

  Each step was excruciating. His guardian magic fought me over every inch I tried to move him. It was as if he was anchored to the marble floor.

  Shailaja’s magic bloomed to my left.

  I ducked.

  A thick chain flew by my head. Without thinking too much about it, I grabbed for its magic — a weird combination of watermelon and mustard — and shoved it toward the rabid koala just as she appeared to my right.

  Having lost its momentum, the chain hit Shailaja at the knees, wrapping around her legs. She shrieked in frustration. But she didn’t throw the katana she still held.

  I managed another step closer to the treasure keeper.

  She could have taken me out with the sword, yet she’d tried chaining me instead. That didn’t make any sense. I was the only thing standing between her and two incapacitated guardians.

  I gained another step as Shailaja wrestled with the chain around her knees.

  Realizing I wasn’t seconds away from death gave me a second to think rather than just react.

  I gathered my father’s guardian magic around me. He was the fount for my magic — or at least the dragon half of it. Dowsing might be a witch thing, but my alchemy was born from my dragon heritage. My knife was like my father’s knife. His magic was my magic.

  The guardian power shielding my fallen father accepted that I was friend, not foe. My burden lightened suddenly, and I crossed the remaining distance to the treasure keeper in three more steps.

  I carefully arranged my father alongside Pulou, head to toe, ignoring Shailaja as she slipped passed to my right.

  Freed from the chain, the rabid koala crossed to stand about twenty feet away. She was between me and the exit. The portal to the nexus still stood open beyond the stacks of treasure behind her.

  I placed my hand on my father’s chest, then on Pulou’s, confirming that both were still breathing.

  They were alive.

  I rose, stepping around the fallen guardians.

  Shailaja raised the katana, primed to throw it. She held it sideways by the hilt. Every edge and surface of the weapon was imbued with deadly witch and sorcerer magic, including the containment spell that Blackwell had hit me with in his castle. The twisted blade was filled with every last drop of magic that Sienna had stolen from her dozens of victims, some of whom had been uniquely powerful. And all of it was coated and sealed in my own blood.

  Unfortunately, clarity was usually an afterthought for me. Standing in the chamber with my father fallen behind me, I understood why Pulou had chosen to lock my terrible creation away.

  And now it was in the hands of the rabid koala.

  Karma was a crazy bitch, and she’d been after my ass for a while now.

  Honestly, I was getting a bit tired of it.

  I raised my knife. “You’ve run out of instruments of assassination, Shailaja.”

  “Not quite yet,” she said, grinning at me as if we were best friends forever.

  Then, inexplicably, she blew me a kiss, spun away, and ran for the portal to the nexus.

  God help me, I followed her.

  ∞

  We leaped through the portal. Momentarily held within its golden magic, I was close enough to Shailaja that my outstretched fingers brushed her hair. But as our feet hit the marble floor of the nexus, she grabbed my forearm and broke my wrist, just as easily as I snapped the spun sugar I used to garnish Vixen in a Cup. The holidays and my salted-caramel-frosted chocolate-gingerbread cake often made me whimsical.

  Pain radiated up my arm. I stumbled but didn’t fall.

  My sense of whimsy was so, so far away. I doubted it could ever make the long trip back.

  Shailaja was across the rotunda and reaching for the door to Western Europe before I completely gained my footing.

  I almost let her go.

  Fleeing into Suanmi’s territory was the absolute worst thing the rabid koala could do. And for one blissful moment, I imagined walking a
way and letting Shailaja fall to the fire breather.

  Then the far seer wandered in through the adjacent archway. He spotted me first, offering me a cheerful smile even though I was just standing there, stupidly cradling my wrist and watching the rabid koala make her escape.

  He turned his head and found himself face to face with Shailaja.

  “No!” I yelled.

  Shailaja chuckled triumphantly, placing the mangled katana over Chi Wen’s head almost delicately. “Hello, far seer. Perfect timing.”

  Frowning, he cranked his chin down and peered at the twisted steel around his neck. Then his face brightened. “Oh! Is today that day?”

  Oh, God.

  No.

  Shailaja yanked the door to Western Europe open. Portal magic flooded the rotunda. She tugged the loosely lassoed far seer closer to her, and he followed like a sheep going to slaughter.

  My wrist healed.

  “Fetch me the third instrument of assassination, Jade Godfrey,” Shailaja said.

  “I already have these two. Why would I need a third?”

  The rabid koala glanced behind me. Then, grinning, she stepped into the open portal.

  Behind me, I could feel my father moving through the portal from the chamber of the treasure keeper. Shailaja wasn’t going to stick around to chat.

  “They won’t let you out with those two, stupid,” she said cheerfully.

  “I am not the only one who sees,” Chi Wen said, paraphrasing himself from before everything went all to hell … well, Shailaja’s party version of hell.

  “Shut up, old man,” Shailaja hissed. Then to me, she said, “And I’ll spare your father. I find you very useful.”

  “The warrior doesn’t need my protection.”

  “Is that why you were standing over him just now?”

  Yazi staggered through the door behind me. I didn’t have to glance back to know that he probably shouldn’t have been on his feet yet. His magic tasted … burned.

  “I’ll see you soon, alchemist.” The rabid koala wagged her chin toward Chi Wen as if she was making some lame joke. Then she dragged the far seer into the portal.

  Absolutely inexplicably, he went with her.

  “Jade …” My father’s voice rumbled through the nexus.

  I glanced over my shoulder. He was leaning on a gilded pillar near the door to Antarctica. He looked as though he’d aged twenty years.

  The sight utterly enraged me. She had Chi Wen. She had my freaking sword. And she’d hurt my dad, badly.

  Could the mangled katana kill a guardian? Was that why the far seer was calling me dragon slayer? Was that why Chi Wen hadn’t fought the rabid koala?

  Shit.

  “Leave it, Jade.” Yazi pushed away from the pillar, attempting to steady himself and failing.

  The portal began to close. I spun away from my injured father. I dove into the waning magic, slipping past the door seconds before it shut.

  “Jade!” My father’s warning was swallowed as I tumbled through the golden transportation magic.

  I had no idea where Shailaja was taking us, but I was completely prepared to show up primed and stab-happy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Except I didn’t show up anywhere. The portal magic just went on and on. My run slowed to a walk. Then I wasn’t sure I was moving anywhere at all, so I stopped.

  I peered forward, then looked back. I couldn’t see anything. No door behind me or in front. No … nothing.

  Just miles and miles of endless portal.

  Or maybe … just a sealed-off pocket of portal magic.

  Was I trapped?

  I shook the silly thought off. I couldn’t get trapped in a portal. Its magic wasn’t a here-and-now location. It was just a means to pass through.

  I focused my thoughts on Shailaja. It wasn’t a difficult task. I’d never hated anyone so fervently. I walked toward that focus.

  And … went nowhere.

  I started panicking. I could feel hysteria creeping up, threatening to clog my throat and muddy my thoughts.

  I threaded my fingers through my necklace and held my knife at the ready. I called on all the magic I held in both. I pushed the panic away.

  I focused on the nexus. The carved doors, the golden pillars. The marble floors, the rounded walls. The mind-shattering magic it held.

  I walked toward it.

  I went nowhere.

  I focused on the bakery basement. I focused on my kitchen, on my apartment, my bed, my mother, and my grandmother. But then I remembered that the particular portal I had just tried to walk through was tied to Western Europe, and therefore it didn’t lead to any of those things.

  I tried to think of London, then Scotland. But I couldn’t recall specific places or … or … or …

  I was trapped.

  Somehow, I was trapped in the portal. I couldn’t move forward or back.

  The golden magic that I’d always found so inviting and buoying was slowly suffocating me. Which was ridiculous. Magic couldn’t choke me. I was an alchemist. I could control magic.

  But … not this magic. It wasn’t my magic. Portals were the treasure keeper’s magic. And, to a lesser degree, the magic of the daughter of the treasure keeper before Pulou.

  Somehow Shailaja had caught me … ensnared me. Maybe doing so was as simple as closing the portal before I could pass through it.

  My father’s bellowed warning echoed through my overwrought mind.

  I had to calm down. I just had to figure it out.

  The portals were tied to the treasure keeper’s magic. Some doorways were permanently anchored within the natural magic of the world, tied to specific grid points across the globe. Other doors, only Pulou could open and walk through. Those portals were ties created by the treasure keeper … ties anchored by the treasure keeper. So … what happened when the treasure keeper wasn’t on duty?

  It was possible that Pulou was still unconscious in the chamber of the treasure keeper. With half of his face … his brain … ripped out. Shredded by me in an attempt to stop the centipedes from killing him.

  Was that why my father had asked me to not follow Shailaja?

  Then …

  Then I was going to die.

  I was going to drown.

  I was going to suffocate.

  My magic wasn’t going to burn bright until it consumed me or burned out. It was going to be slowly snuffed out.

  I started clawing at my neck and chest. I knew I shouldn’t, but I just couldn’t breathe.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.

  I was going to die alone. Suffocated by magic I thought I had some mastery over. I’d gone from being simply ignorant and uneducated to being stupidly arrogant.

  White dots appeared before my eyes.

  Jesus. I was having a panic attack.

  I stumbled.

  I fell.

  The golden vista around me went black.

  ∞

  I was dreaming of chocolate … dark, creamy chocolate with sweet cherry midnotes and a slightly smoky aftertaste …

  I was dreaming of Warner.

  And for a moment, I thought I was snuggled in the comfort of my bed. Safe. Adored.

  Except Warner was angry. Scared and viciously angry. The taste of his magic intensified … the sweet cherry overwhelmed with deep, dark cocoa and soot.

  The intense emotion jolted me awake.

  My heart was thrumming as if it had been shocked with adrenaline. I opened my eyes to the endless golden magic of the portal.

  I was still trapped.

  I had no idea how long I’d been passed out.

  I was lying on my back. The betrothal rings on my necklace were resting near my heart. And just for a moment, I thought they felt warm, giving off a glimmer of the energy that had passed between Warner and me when we kissed in the chamber of the treasure keeper.

  I pulled myself into a lotus position, choosing to ride the flood of emotion that had woken me, instead of collapsing back into
my pathetic wallowing.

  Maybe feeling Warner’s anger was just part of a dream. Or maybe he was looking for me.

  I slipped my fingers through the betrothal bands, reaching for a taste of the residual dragon magic that had lived within the metal before I absorbed it into the necklace.

  I couldn’t taste it.

  I couldn’t taste anything but the omnipresent portal magic.

  I squeezed the rings, gritting my teeth against the pain as they bit into my fingers.

  I shouldn’t have jumped into the portal. I shouldn’t have asked Warner to put himself anywhere near Shailaja. I’d assumed she had some plan, but I ignored my intuition because all I could see was the goal line.

  Specifically, Warner freed. Free to be with me.

  And I’d quashed his marriage proposal. I’d been scared and childish and …

  No.

  I was too young for regrets. Hell, I was too stupid for regrets.

  I wasn’t done.

  I gathered all my magic — all my fear, all my anger — and I focused it on the rings cutting into my fingers.

  I stood, even though I shouldn’t have been able to find purchase in the magic. I didn’t know up from down. I didn’t know forward from back.

  I shut everything else out except the rings in my hand, and Warner. I opened my mind and heart to the possibility of a future.

  Then I reached out my free hand. I reached out for the promise Warner had made when he gave me the rings. I reached for the dream. For the energy that had passed between him and me.

  I wanted more.

  I wanted it all. Every day.

  And I’d fight for it. I’d burn for it.

  I’d kill for it.

  I stepped forward.

  A firm, warm grip grasped my outstretched hand.

  “Jade …” Warner whispered through the portal, his voice resonating through my head and my heart.

  Still completely blind within the golden magic, I loosened my hold on the rings, reaching out and up to wrap my hand around the back of Warner’s neck.

  He pulled me forward into a crushing, fierce, far-too-brief kiss. Then he scooped me up and lifted me out of the portal.

  ∞

  We crossed through into the nexus. I could taste the shift in the magic around me, but I still couldn’t see anything but an endless wash of gold.