Rebirth (Lost Souls #1)

Chapter 24

I feel pretty confident in the spell, but just in case something goes wrong, I want him there when I cast it. He’s in his study, shifting through the mess that we created earlier, picking up papers and sorting them into neat piles.

“Here for round two?” he asks with a smirk, looking up at me. “There isn’t much left for you to destroy.”

“Maybe if you were less of an asshole, I wouldn’t feel the need to.”

He chuckles as he gets up and continues to sort through the debris.

I straighten my shoulders and take a deep breath. “I’m done with the time-stitching spell, and I need you to back me up.”

That gets his full attention. He turns to me and accepts the paper with my notes. “You’re going to use a hybrid magic created from both Elomadh and blood magic?”

“I’m not well versed enough in Eloghyll or blood magic to rely solely on those. Right now, I don’t have the spare time to learn, which is why I created this.” I gesture to the spell in his hand.

“Looks like it could work,” he says while he hands the paper back to me, his eyes on the feather in my hand. “You reckon it will suffice?”

I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. “I’m not certain, which is why I need you there. I’ll be adding an open blood sacrifice, and I need to make sure that I don’t faint, or worse.”

“Let’s take this downstairs, then. This place is enough of a mess as it is.” He walks by, leading me down the stairs to the red room.

The room is empty, the piles of books from before having all been cleared out. There’s a feeling of foreboding lingering between its walls. He throws me a look as I find myself a spot in the middle of the room.

“Anything you need?”

“Yeah,” I say, holding out my hand to him. “That dagger of yours.”

He reaches inside his suit jacket, pulling out the dagger and handing it to me. Putting it to my left wrist, I mumble something about hating this part and then proceed to carefully cut myself. Blood immediately wells up, and I drop my arm so that it will run down to the feather. It’s quickly soaked in red, the thick liquid dripping onto the floor and forming a small puddle next to me. The cut stings and I want to close it back up, but resist the urge as I hand him the dagger back.

Taking a deep breath, I run some magic through my blood so it will flow out of the cut and follow my finger. Next, I start to draw the circle in the air in front of me. The blood remains in midair, just the way that I want it to while I whisper every symbol I draw. Partially to make sure that they are correct, but also to give them a second magical charge.

Once I’ve drawn the last symbol and the circle is thus completed, it lights up faintly, as if to tell me that it’s charged and ready to go. I take a step back, then look it over to make sure that I didn’t make any mistakes. My left arm starts to feel numb as blood continues to drip from the cut, continuously feeding the circle and the spell.

I grasp the drenched feather in my right hand and throw him a quick look over my shoulder. He stands back, leaning against the wall, and nods at me. Despite everything, I trust him to have my back. Even if it’s only because this is as much for his benefit as it is for mine .

With another deep breath, I speak the words for the spell, activating the circle.

“Aao ial pir gah cnila drix fafen cacocasb.

“Also adohi ia I don sro casarman vpaahi.

“Gmicalzoma piap momar paid busd foargt.

“Ananael I al purg soba dooain.”

After the last words, I carefully place the feather in the middle of the circle. The blood on it immediately merges with the rest. There’s a tug on my wrist as the spell automatically starts to take more. The amount it draws directly from me makes my head feel light. It seems that I grossly miscalculated the amount of blood needed, and I curse internally at this.

The symbols in the circle twist and turn while more and more of my blood is being taken. The feather starts to dissolve, and the circle absorbs the dust, magic starting to come off it in waves. It fills the room until it becomes hard to breathe. The pure, raw magical power slams around me, cracking the walls and ceiling.

My head pounds, and I stumble before falling completely. He catches me before I hit the ground and helps me sit down. There is concern in his eyes as the steady stream of blood seems to be insufficient. But once started, the spell can’t be stopped. The only way is forward. And going forward means giving it what it needs.

He understands this, the dagger already in his hand and ready. I bare my right arm for him, and he cuts my other wrist with a swift movement. The blood that wells up from this second wound is instantly pulled toward the circle. In response, it shines brighter and brighter as it takes more and more. Until the brightness forces us to look away.

The vibrations that the spell creates get worse. They cause me both physical and mental agony that almost take over every part of my being. I’m barely able to keep my eyes open and, while he continues to hold me close, I faintly see him struggle as well. He places one hand on my chest over my heart, and it helps to ground me. Even though I don’t hear the words, the warmth that radiates from his touch is enough to know that he’s protecting me. He heals me as best as he can while the spell takes whatever it needs.

Slowly, the way the spell tugs at me changes, telling me it’s about to reach completion. I’m filled with a weird kind of dread for what’s going to happen. It makes my stomach drop and leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Every passing second has me growing weaker and weaker, until I can do nothing but lie there while the spell drains me. My limbs feel cold and detached, and I struggle to keep my eyes open.

It’s too similar to when I killed myself…

Yet through it all, he continues to hold me in his arms, healing me and grounding me with his touch.

Eventually, the pull of the spell weakens, and his healing actually works beyond keeping me conscious. Looking up at the circle, I’m overwhelmed by the amount of power that it’s amassed. I know that it’s too much; the spell took more than it was supposed to.

It’s going to explode.

He comes to the same conclusion and rapidly puts up a protective bubble around us. We need to move, get out of here, but I’m too weak and we don’t have enough time. The light from the circle starts to flicker and sends a wave of power into its surroundings. The floor shakes, and more cracks form on the ceiling. Another flicker of power causes them to widen with a horrible tearing sound.

The first piece falls.

There is a loud, mechanical click that tells me the spell has reached completion. Every line of the incantation is represented by a part in the circle. Those parts start to move around within the circle itself. The sound it creates is like the whirring and clicking of a mechanical device being wound up, over a ticking sound that resembles a clock.

There is another mechanical click , followed by a deafening, high- pitched screech , and then a blinding flash of light. The spell fulfills its purpose and, in doing so, throws a shockwave of power around itself. It shakes the floor even more violently and causes it to split open around me with a loud crack .

My heart beats frantically as I’m unable to lift a single finger. His hand is still on my heart as he desperately tries to heal me while protecting us both.

The magic starts to subside, and his body relaxes slightly in response. He takes a moment to look me over, concern clear in his yellow eyes. Then a second, more powerful shockwave catches us off guard. He tries to reinforce the protection but gets caught as we are blasted against the wall. He removes his hand from my chest to heal the still-bleeding cuts in my wrists. Then, he proceeds to cut his own to forge a blood-magic protection around us.

Before he’s able to complete it, the ceiling comes down on top of us, and everything goes dark. It takes a few terrifying minutes before the ground stops shaking and the screeching fades away.

When all has gone silent, I notice his heavy breathing and something dripping on me. Using what little strength I have left, I manage to conjure up a tiny blue flame that illuminates the small space around me. I gasp when he becomes visible in the blue light. He’s crouched over me, his body a part of the protection that’s keeping me safe. His face is twisted in agony as a metal bar sticks out of his neck, the gnarly wound dripping blood on my legs.

He somehow manages to conjure a smile, then slowly puts a hand back on my chest and starts to heal me again. I open my mouth to protest, but he shushes me.

“I don’t have enough strength to heal myself and keep it up.” His voice is weak, strained, and I don’t understand how he’s even able to speak in the first place. “I’m giving you enough so you can heal yourself and get us out.”

I nod, dropping my hand with the flame in my lap. I can’t bear looking at his face, so instead I look at the flickering light in my hand.

Feeling myself growing stronger, minute by painstaking minute, I inevitably feel him grow weaker. Until his hand slips away, breaking the spell.

“Your… turn.”

His eyes roll into the back of his head as he passes out. I only barely manage to react fast enough to put up my own protection as his collapses. There’s a horrible wet ripping sound when he falls on top of me, gravity inevitably freeing him from the metal bar. Blood starts to gush out of the gaping wound, and I do my best to close it up. All I manage is a thin layer of muscle and flesh, just enough to stop the bleeding.

Using a basic, but at the moment very draining, spell, I’m able to blast away some of the heavy stones on top of us. It creates an opening big enough to fit through. Coughing from the dust, I climb out and drag him unceremoniously behind me. He’s so out of it that he doesn’t even stir, which worries me enough to check his pulse. I’m relieved to find one—weak, but present.

There is nothing left but pure destruction. The red room has completely collapsed in on itself. The only good thing is that there wasn’t a room above it, or we wouldn’t have made it out. Or, at least, not this relatively easily. I scan through the pieces of wall and ceiling, searching for a way out. By some miracle, the stairs are still in one piece.

His legs and feet only slightly drag behind me when I hoist him over my back. I find myself cursing at his build while I pull him over the rubble. A toned body is nice until you have to carry it through debris.

Moving slowly, I somehow still manage to snag his foot on something. I curse again when the bone breaks with a loud snap , but at least he doesn’t regain consciousness. Panting heavily, I outdo myself by getting him up the stairs without causing him any further harm, though I’m a sweaty mess by the end of it. I open the bedroom door with a kick, looking at the bed and deciding then and there that it’s good enough. Only just making it over the threshold, I drop him on his back on the floor and collapse next to him.

I give myself a moment to catch my breath, then place my hand on his chest as he did with me. Whispering the words, I let the healing magic flow to him. While doing so, I turn onto my side to keep an eye on him.

After what seems like forever, he stirs and slowly opens his eyes. A breath escapes me, and the tension in my body melts away as a slow smile breaks out on my face.

“Did you break my foot?” he mumbles.

His voice is weak, an even weaker grin on his lips as he tries to turn his face to look at me. The wound in his neck prevents him from doing so, and his grin becomes a pained grimace.

He takes my hand in his and rolls over to his side so he can see me. He gestures for me to come closer, and I move my sore, exhausted body as near him as possible. Our chests are touching, our hands squeezed between them. He rests his chin on my neck and the smell of fire, brimstone, and something else warms me.

“You sure have a knack for destroying my things, love.” He sighs, but I catch the relief in his voice.

Warmth spreads, my magic going back and forth between us, making us both drowsy. He moves slightly, and I immediately follow him, wanting to stay close, neither of us breaking the peaceful silence that surrounds us.