Silver-Tongued Devil
Page 11

“Say the words.”
One more long breath. “Daltu peta.”
The wind rose around me, a vortex opening. As Rhea had instructed, I kept the image of myself standing in the hall in my mind. Cold air rushed in my ears. Static crawled over my skin. Power surged through my veins.
Then, as quickly as it came to life, the wind died. My ears popped. And the power settled to a low hum in my solar plexus. It was only a flash of time, but it felt longer.
Labored breathing. Heart thudding in my ears. I settled back into my skin. The air brushing my skin felt colder.
I’d done it. I had finally traveled through space without anyone’s help. Smiling, I opened my eyes.
Shock hit me like a blast of magic.
Instead of looking at the hallway I’d been expecting, I was standing in a vast expanse of nothing. Well, not nothing exactly, but the landscape before me was little more than a barren field coated in gray ash—like pictures I’d seen of the surface of the moon. And despite the general dreariness, the light hurt my eyes, like a full moon’s light reflecting off snowdrifts.
But there was no sun here. No moon. No stars. The sky was an oily black dome pressing down on me.
“Rhea!”
RheaRheaRhea.
The warped echo made my blood rush. Where the hell was I? I spun in a circle, my heart throbbing in my ears. Not far from where I stood, a crossroads of sorts spread out in a wagon-wheel pattern. In the center of the eight spokes, a bright red flag flapped in an unfelt breeze.
Now that my eyes had adjusted to the odd light, I could see farther. The horizons in either direction shimmered like the edges of a mirage. Whatever this place was, it clearly wasn’t my world.
The howl clawed through the air and pierced my chest.
What was it? Where was it?
I fell back into my fighting stance. The distance was impossible to judge. Sound was both muted and amplified, like shouting underwater or screaming into sharp winter air.
I knew one thing with crystalline clarity: Whatever made that horrible sound was hunting me.
Despite my trembling limbs, I took a deep, calming breath. Despite the cold sweat coating my back and stomach, I closed my eyes and pictured the gym. Despite the fear clawing my throat, I smelled the sour, sweaty workout mats and Rhea’s sandalwood scent. And when the howl came again, this time much closer—too close—I willed myself back to that safe room with every ounce of will in my being.
The wind rose. The vortex wrapped me in its frigid arms and rescued me from the nightmare realm.
9
When I woke, I didn’t care how long I’d been out. Or about the cold sweat gluing my body to the floor. Never in my life had I enjoyed the pungent scent of old sweat and vinyl so much. Thank the gods—I’d made it back to the gym.
Rapid footsteps vibrated off the gym’s hardwood floor. I groaned and peeled my face from the mat. I rolled over in time to see Rhea’s face snap into focus.
“Sabina! Gods, what happened?” She knelt beside me. Worry aged the planes of her face.
“I don’t know.” I rubbed my eyes. “One minute I was focused on flashing to the hall and the next…” My voice trailed off. I tried to figure out how to describe the place I’d gone, the terror I’d felt there. “I went someplace else. Someplace… other.”
She frowned and felt my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed the clump of remembered fear in my throat. “I think so. How long was I gone?”
“Just a few seconds. You disappeared as expected but when I ran to the hall you weren’t there. By the time I made it back to the door, I heard a thud and there you were.”
I shook my head. “That can’t be right. I was there for at least five minutes, maybe longer.” She hooked her hands under my arms to help me stand. “Physically, I feel fine, but my brain feels like I spent too much time on a Tilt-a-Whirl.”
She clucked sympathetically and led me to a chair. She disappeared for a moment but when she returned, she pressed a glass of blood into my hand. “Praise the gods you badgered me into keeping blood stocked in the gym.”
“Amen.” I tilted the glass and gulped the liquid like someone who’d just stumbled out of the desert.
Once I’d finished, she crossed her arms. “Okay, tell me what you saw.”
I rolled the glass between my palms. “It’s hard to describe.” I went on to tell her the details I recalled. I told her about the odd light, the barren landscape, the crossroads. When I got to that part, I paused. “Wait a second.”
“What is it?”
“The crossroads. Remember that dream I keep having? The one about Cain?”
Rhea frowned and nodded. “Sure.”
“There’s this point in the dream where the setting changes and we’re suddenly in a crossroads. The one in this place wasn’t exactly like the one in my dreams, but I wonder if there’s a connection.”
Rhea pursed her lips and frowned. “Describe the one in the other realm.”
“Eight spokes, a tall pole in the center with a red flag.”
“I’ll look into it. Chances are good it’s a coincidence, but it never hurts to check it out.” She dipped her chin at me to continue. “What else?”
I got to the howling part and I gripped the glass so tightly it cracked. She took it from me and nodded for me to continue. “Wherever I went, it wasn’t of this world.”
Rhea had gone very still. And too quiet. The kind of quiet a person gets when they’re busy restraining their fear for you to respond. Finally, she arranged her features into her best academic poker face. “From your description, I’m tempted to agree you left our world. But before we jump to conclusions I’d like to do some research.”
“What kind of research?”
“Everyone has different experiences when they do travel spells for the first time. It’s not unheard of to end up in a completely different place than where you’d intended. I’d like to look back through the archives to see if anyone else has ever left this plane of existence.”
“Isn’t that the sort of thing you’d have heard about?”
“Not necessarily.” Her eyes scanned the middle distance, as if the answer hung there waiting to be snatched. “But I’ve never trained a Chthonic before. Ameritat trained your father.”
I tried not to be frustrated by her dropping the C bomb. By definition, a Chthonic mage was one who specialized in dark magic. Not black magic, exactly, but definitely not white either. If you needed a zombie raised or a spirit contacted or an enemy immolated from twenty paces, a Chthonic was the mage for the job. But good luck finding one when you needed them. My father was a Chthonic, but he was dead. Maybe there were a few others floating around the world, but I hadn’t heard of them. As far as I knew, I was the only one.
“You know what?” I said. “Being a Chthonic is a pain in the ass. Every time I think I’m finally getting the hang of magic, my Chthonic power sweeps in and fucks it up.”
Rhea dragged her attention from whatever theories were spinning in her headspace. “Now, now, Sabina. What happened is troublesome, but let’s not go into martyr mode. This could end up being an opportunity.”
“Right,” I snorted. Despite my flippant response, I was remembering that howl and the sickening conviction I’d die if I didn’t escape. Goose bumps spread on my forearms. “An opportunity to get my ass chewed up by some horrible netherworld beast.”
Rhea ignored my dramatics. “I’ll look in Ameritat’s old journals. Maybe Tristan had a similar experience.”
My head jerked up. “You have her journals?”
“I don’t have them personally,” she said. “They’re kept in secured archives out at the Crossroads,” she said, referring to the mage estate up near Sleepy Hollow. “I need to go out there tomorrow anyway to help finalize some things for the festival.” She paused and gave me a thorough once-over. “Are you going to be all right? Should I call Adam?”
I shook my head. “Don’t bother. I’m on my way to see him now anyway.” I blew out a breath. “I’m fine though. But if it’s all the same to you I think I’ll stick to public transportation for the time being.”
She patted my arm. “That’s probably best. Let me smudge you before you head out.”
I paused. “Why?”
She looked like she was considering lying but thought better of it. “It’s just a precaution since we don’t know where you were or what type of creature was coming for you.”
“You think that thing followed me back?” My stomach dropped.
“No, nothing like that. A good cleanse will help dispel the negative energy that’s clinging to you. Your aura is all wonky.”
I frowned at her. “Define ‘wonky.’ ”
She moved away to grab the sage and some matches. “Your aura is normally bright red. And lately it’s also had happy gold and purple streaks running through it.”
I’d known about the red part but this was the first I’d heard of streaks. “What does that mean?”
“That you’re in love.” She smiled. “The gold means happiness and the purple is the result of Adam’s blue aura melding with your red one.”
I wasn’t sure whether to feel all mushy or embarrassed. On the one hand, yes, being with Adam made me very happy. On the other, I didn’t like the idea that I’d been wearing my heart on my aura for all to see.
“Anyway, that was before. Right now, the gold has been replaced by a smoky black.” She paused and added, “That’s bad.”
“I figured as much,” I said. “So the sage will clean that off?”
Rhea lit the sage bundle and blew on it until its fragrant smoke billowed. “Yep.” She came back to me. “Now, try to think happy thoughts.”
She circled me three times clockwise, chanting the whole time in Hekatian. Over the last few months, I’d picked up more of the ceremonial mage language. I was far from fluent, but I was able to pick out enough to recognize she was calling on Hekate to banish any bad energy from my being. I concentrated on breathing deep to allow the sweet smoke to do its magic inside as well as out. When she’d finished the third circle, she turned and went the other direction. This time I recognized the words “purify” and “protect.”