Take Back Worlds (Diamond Universe: Sierra Walker #3)

Chapter 7

I n the middle of a plaza, the giant statue of Grand Magus Evram looking wise and powerful as he shields Sarenac City is... a choice. Big ‘dictator erecting flattering statues of themself in the city square’ energy.

“You’re joking,” Nariel mutters from the air as we descend.

“Right?”

It turns out we can fly next to each other while Nariel shrouds us both, so he only has to carry me if we’re doing fancy evasive maneuver flying, which I have not yet practiced.

I’d thought that would make things less tense, with us not able to physically feel every muscle twitch of the other. And I am very happy about the agency with benefits.

But it feels like there’s emotional space between us now, too, and I’m not sure what to do about it, so it’s a good thing I have a magical problem to solve instead.

Even with my magical senses wide open, though, there’s too much ambient magic around for me to pick up anything specific.

“I can’t see any spellwork from here though—we’re going to have to get closer.”

“Wait,” Nariel says grimly. “I can.”

I whip to face him. “Angelic?”

He nods, a smile twisting his mouth. “Difficult to hide magic from a spirit of shadows. And here, of course, they never thought they needed to.”

Shadows spill from him, sweeping over the statue. And as they pass, faint spell diagram lines are illuminated in their wake.

An actual lead, thank the gods.

Which means maybe another fight, too, and I would love to blow off some of this frustration, but with my current understanding of the bond I am, for once, not super excited.

Even the one thing I’m supposed to be good at is now hard, goddammit.

The spell is already fading as I scramble to pull out the spell recording cube and activate it.

“Can you make sure the area is clear before I touch this at all?” I ask.

Nariel nods, looking around us. “The spirits are clearing the area.” Like they had in Costa Rica. “I’m going to put a barrier around us so we’re not disturbed.” Like at Stonehenge. We have learned from working together, even if it doesn’t feel like it.

Or at least, we did before we bonded.

Enough.

I take a moment, picturing the whole spell in my mind. My memory for spellwork is as good as ever, at least, and I mentally turn it around until I can confirm that I can dispel the hiding layer of it without affecting anything else.

So I do that first, letting the cube record my spell. The statue shimmers briefly before revealing the glowing white spellwork lines beneath.

I study it harder, frowning as I follow angles and try to remember how far things are from here. Nariel joins me.

It’s not an angelic spell, actually, though it uses multiple angelic spell glyphs. But the spell is a human one—probably because a human actually performed it and even the high-capacious wouldn’t have had the energy for a real angelic spell. Just like the last plague spell.

“How do angels know enough about human spellwork to plant the understanding in someone else’s mind?“ I ask.

“I don’t think it’s Evram,” he says. “Shortsighted as he is, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to share what makes him special with the people he’s trying to impress.”

I take a breath, let it out. That’s something. I suspect all the grand magi are too canny for this, though, which means—

“An apprentice?” I ask.

“Possibly. Or they used one of the high-capacious as an unwitting spy. I doubt we’ll find a convenient culprit.”

“Good,” I say grimly. “Then the grand magi won’t either. And once they’re alerted to the problem, they should be able to keep this from happening on their watch again.”

“What’s bothering you about this, then?”

“It’s one anchor point of a circle,” I explain. “You know how I needed at least three anchors in Low Earth to bring back magic? It’s the same idea, but in this case it’s more like they’re surrounding the target and feeding into it. So the first problem is, they’re doing something with all that magic, and I don’t know what. The second problem is that this spell references the other spell, not the location, so until I know of at least two more points, I don’t know where the main target is that they’re feeding magic to is.”

“This spell isn’t the biggest problem, then.”

“No. We can keep investigating other overlaps the spirits found, but—“

“That takes time, and in the meantime, people are having their magic drained out of them.”

“Yeah.”

Nariel studies me. “Can you use this to draw the spells out?”

I nod. “I think so. If I unwork this spell, it’ll destabilize the whole magic-funneling mechanism. I’m not sure what that will do, because I don’t know how the main spell is built.”

Nariel is very still. “Are you worried I’m going to tell you not to fight?”

“No,” I say, my chest twisting. “You’re the one person I’m never worried about trying to hold me back. But are we ready? This morning I melted walls. Yesterday I almost—“

Nariel catches my face in a steel grip. “And two days ago I almost, and there’s a part of me that wants to take you back to my tower and keep you there in peace and quiet where I can make sure you’re safe, even knowing how big of a mistake that would be—to clip your wings, ruin our chances at freedom, not to mention you’re at more risk from me than anyone else. But even if I could hide you away, it wouldn’t make you safer, from me or anyone else. Stalling now won’t save you. We have to save us .”

I stare at him.

Okay, wow, the bond definitely does not make anyone telepathic, because I did not realize he was in his feelings about this. Because, in my defense, he’s been silent about it, dealing with it on his own, while I’ve been pouring out my worries at him.

Which one of those is healthier? He’s not my therapist, but also how do we work through things together if we don’t talk about them? Right?

But—he did compare me being worried about hurting him to what he did, and I blew it off. Just like I thought he was doing to me. Damn it.

I know it’s hard for him to volunteer shit if I don’t ask the questions, which doesn’t make it my job, but when he does, I need to listen .

That’s really what I’ve been missing, as tired as I’ve been.

I’ve been missing Nariel.

“Sierra,” he murmurs. “Talk to me.”

Because no one else talks to him, not really.

I want to cry, but instead I’m going to punch things.

I push Nariel’s arm away so he’ll let go of my chin. His eyes widen, but when he starts to move back in response I grab him by the front of his shirt and glare at him.

“I’m not going to lose you,” I promise him, “and you’re not going to lose me. And then we are going to have as much peace and quiet together as we can stand before we leave your tower. Except for bathroom breaks.”

Nariel’s face twitches. “Amir is installing facilities for that.”

Before I have to formulate a response to that—the bathroom isn’t the point , but I do appreciate—

Nariel kisses me, and I hold onto him.

I’m not going to lose him.

And he’s right: That doesn’t mean hiding from the problem.

It means facing it and making sure I do what I resolved to do.

All of it.

When we break for air, I call Destien before Nariel can occupy my mouth again.

His face swims into view in the crystal. “I hope this is urgent.”

“I found a spell using angelic glyphs that’s funneling magic from the city into a bigger spell, and I’ve recorded it in the cube.”

Destien sharpens. “A High Earth spell?”

“Yes.”

He blows out a breath. “The grand magi may still claim you’re responsible for it, then.”

Goddammit, I didn’t even think of that.

And you know what? That’s not my problem.

Nevertheless—“I can probably fix that, too, which is why I’m calling you.”

“You’re going to take the spell down, I assume.”

“Yes.”

“Consequences?”

“Unknown. This is a single anchor.”

Destien curses, because he knows what that means. “I’ll deploy the Lances. Good luck.” His face vanishes, presumably as he switches to call them.

Joy.

I guess it’s better than deploying all the other mages, who might still try to attack me and that aren’t as equipped to take on Bright Earth bullshit.

At least I’ll have some backup, though.

“We’ve got this,” I tell Nariel. “You keep to the shadows—“

“Absolutely not,” Nariel snarls. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because if the angels know you’re out of Dark Earth—“

“Sierra, your magic is full of mine. They’ll know,” he says flatly. “Are you going to hide?”

I look at him in horror. I also should have thought of that, but, again, very busy . “Are you sure?” I ask in a small voice.

Nariel’s face darkens. “I will shadow-flick you,” he says ominously.

“Don’t you dare make a joke of this!”

He leans in close to me, shadows flickering in his gaze and says, biting off each word, “I. Am. Not. Hiding. I will fight at your side. Are we clear?”

I take a breath. Okay. I was already planning on not pulling magic from him; now I’ll just really not pull magic from him. And since High Earth sold themselves out to Bright Earth generations ago, it’s entirely possible the angels already know, anyway.

Nothing has changed.

Even if the pressure feels much more suffocating.

I swallow past my tight throat and manage to say evenly, “We’re clear. I’m going to unravel the spell.”

Nariel searches my gaze for a moment before shifting so he’s at my back, and my heart squeezes.

We’re doing this together.

He retracts the shadows to a tight sphere around us, leaving the statue visible but us not, while I get to work.

This spell is more complicated than the last plague spell, but honestly, if a human had put this spell together, it could have been a lot more efficient. Angels don’t know or care how to not waste magic.

I weave my own spell to simultaneously unravel the knots that hold it together, and it vanishes.

Immediately, I feel the difference.

The magic wasn’t just ambient before, it had been moving , and I hadn’t even realized, sucked into the statue of Evram like flushing down the toilet, and now I’ve blocked the pipe.

Nothing else happens.

Yet.

I summon my hammer. Probably safer for Nariel if I wield magic through it for now.

Still nothing.

We wait, and wait, and—

There .

I feel the angel’s power appear directly above the statue, but I don’t see them—that must be Nariel’s magic at work.

And Nariel is fast off the draw, shadows coalescing above us and tearing off whatever invisibility cloak the angel was wearing, revealing a battle-ready angel with fire already coating their palm.

The angel’s eyes widen an instant before Nariel’s shadows close around them, holding them in place like he held the Lances.

Their face twists in a snarl. “ You . It will be my pleasure to kill you myself.”

Definitely not a friendly angel, then!

The angel has more power than the Lances, though—the shadows strain as the angel flexes their magic to force them off—

But not before I can fly up to them, and with a single swing of my hammer I take down their personal shield.

To the angel’s credit, they don’t let that rattle them, and are already following it up with a blast of fire in my direction.

I meet it point-blank with lightning.

Our blasts crash into each other between us, each one fighting for dominance as I pour more magic into it, wondering how long I can keep this up before I start drawing on magic that isn’t mine.

I can’t really stop firing though without taking the hit, but I start bolstering my own shield to be ready—

And then a winged shadow darkens the space behind the angel.

The angel pours a big burst of power into their blast that wipes through my lightning and knocks me back, straight down into the statue of Evram with enough force that I feel it warp beneath me.

Fortunately my shield holds long enough to prevent me from taking any serious physical damage with it, though I’ll probably feel like one big bruise later.

The angel isn’t so lucky.

They didn’t disengage from me fast enough.

Nariel’s shadows slice the angel’s head off.

The angel hangs in the air for a moment.

And then their magic dissipates, their entire form simply dissolving and blowing away with the wind—

No, into Nariel .

I know, because the rush of magic whites out my vision momentarily.

When it’s cleared, Nariel appears in front of me with a hand to help me up.

“Nice teamwork,” he tells me. “I’m all topped up now.”

Yeah, I’m still dizzy. And given that blowback and that I still don’t know how much magic I can use, I’m not sure I agree with him on the teamwork, because, yes, we did kill the angel together, but—

Holy shit, I just helped kill an angel.

I mean, that’s one of the reasons we bonded, and I knew this was coming, but—holy shit.

The angel’s clothes float down on top of me, and I blast them away before I can get tangled up in them.

“There are four more angels around the city.”

I feel them. There must be five anchors, and they’re checking to see which stopped working.

I quickly grab my communication crystal and snap out to Destien, “The angels are cloaked, fire a wide burst into the sky.” Then I fire off the approximate distances from where we’re standing as Destien turns to another crystal, presumably with the Lances, and without pause converts those calculations based on their position.

“The Lances are taking the one on your right,” Destien tells me.

That leaves three.

“Together we’re a match for any one—“ Nariel starts.

“But we can’t let any of them get away and take news back. We need to divide and conquer. I can take one on my own.”

Probably. If I can see straight.

Nariel’s face is blank, but he takes me at my word, which twists my whole heart because I am talking out of my ass and hoping I can back it up—I am a human! Who does not know how to use the power she now has! What the shit business do I have fighting an angel at all, let alone on my own!—and he still isn’t second-guessing me.

But instead of expressing any rightful doubts, he just holds out a hand to me. And I take it.

And he coalesces us in front of another angel.

“If I can see straight” was ironically prophetic, it turns out, because I cannot see straight.

Nariel is already disappearing, though.

I clamp down on my instinctive panic before he can feel it. There are two whole other angels unaccounted for, and he is trusting me to handle my shit.

Making sure to keep moving, I close my eyes, feeling the magic around me. It’s like I’m surrounded in bubbles, tiny pockets of magic designed to overwhelm all my senses, so I can’t tell where the actual angel is.

Okay, information overload. Works great on angels because they can sense so much, and now I’m having a similar problem—I can’t even sense as much as Nariel, but I can feel so much more that it’s debilitating.

So: let’s simplify the information.

Ignoring the bubbles, I send out multiple quick zaps of lightning, and, honestly, it’s a relief. Nariel topped up on magic makes me feel like I’m bursting with it.

My lightning tears paths through the bubbles, but it doesn’t last; they’re immediately crowded through once more.

Which could be useful information, except that now they’re pressing in on me like they can suffocate me, and in fact I’m now having trouble breathing, and, absolutely not.

I flex my power and burst them all off me in a small shockwave.

Look at that! I’m learning! Battle pressure for the win!

It doesn’t last long—the bubbles are already starting to reform—but it’s long enough that I can see the angel and swing my hammer at them.

Direct hit.

The bubbles freeze as the angel gets their shield back under control.

I don’t even pause.

I hit them again, and again—

And then something grabs my hammer and yanks .

I’d stopped paying attention to my magical senses because of the bubbles, and it cost me.

I drop rapidly as the ropes of magic whiz over my head where I’d just been.

The bubbles start closing in again as I move.

“A human thinks she can take one of us on,” a voice taunts. “How do you think you’ll fare against two, little one?”

I release the hammer, and it vanishes. Advantage of it being my weapon rather than a physical thing I carry around with me.

“I didn’t need your help,” a different voice snaps, presumably bubble-angel.

“Goriel does,” rope-angel replies. “Three of us should be a match for Nariel.”

They’ve recognized him. And they’ve focused their attention on me first, the better to take him out.

Okay, now this is battle pressure.

I change direction, trying to put on more speed as ropes chase and lash at me, but I don’t have the experience with advanced evasive maneuvers that Nariel does. I’ve flown before under my own power, but not against people who’ve been flying for centuries, and fighting others who’ve been flying for centuries. I’m learning fast, but I’m at a disadvantage in the sky.

But if I land I’ll be in an even worse position. Both of these angels’ attacks are designed to limit my mobility, which means I absolutely can’t let them.

So I start to spin.

Myself, and my magic, winding us around like a cyclone with me at the center, building a wall of magic that whips around me.

The ropes of magic bounce off of it.

The bubbles, unfortunately, are already inside, replicating and filling the space. And with the wall around me, the pressure is more intense.

So instead of ignoring them, I lean in.

I breathe in their magic, the sensation of it, and follow that sensation back to the source.

Flying, whipping around spinning and probably going to vomit magic, I dance my magic cyclone over to the bubble angel as the ropes continue to fail to get a grip on me.

When that angel realizes where I’m going, they try to use their magic to grab the bubble angel out of the way. But Bubble Angel fights them off, and that’s all I need.

My cyclone crashes into them.

I hear their screams as I continue pouring magic into the cyclone, as they continue to re-shield with layers of bubbles that I continue to tear away as surely as their bubbles continue to regenerate.

But this is an endurance game now, because I did breathe in their bubbles, which means the magic is now duplicating inside of me .

The magic dies if the angel dies, so I absolutely can’t let go.

So of course now is the moment I feel the giant pool of magic inside me draining fast—which means Nariel needs this magic right now, too.

I can’t take it all. And I won’t .

I manifest my hammer, and I swing it into the cyclone, but not straight on.

I’m not breaking my own magic.

I’m adding to it.

Lightning from the end of my hammer blasts out into the cyclone, adding a spiraling thread through it that spreads, quickly turning the whole cyclone electric.

This is enough to tear through the last of Bubble Angel’s defenses, and they scream—briefly—before my magic zaps them from existence.

But breaking the cyclone on the angel nullifies it, and I shoot outward, tumbling through the sky in a rictus of rigid pain as I wait for the bubbles inside me to disperse.

It should only take a few seconds—

But seconds are all the rope angel needs.

My vision clears to find every one of my limbs bound in the air like a marionette on magic strings.

The angel sends bursts of magic down along the lines connecting us, and I scream as they hit, burning through my shield almost instantly.

My personal shield is not up to fighting angels, and I’m going to have to work on that.

If I survive this.

But pain, I have felt before. Here in High Earth especially.

So even though I’m screaming, I send a burst of magic of my own back along the connection.

And feel it vanish.

The angel has used the ropes to eat it.

Shit fuck.

I try just electrifying my body to disengage the tendrils of ropes wrapped around me, but it’s no use—the ropes are already through my shields, and they hold on steadily, and although they don’t eat magic at the ends apparently—I have to send the magic to the angel—it’s also not enough to make them let go.

I desperately want to just blast full out to make them let go, but I can’t—Nariel needs that magic.

And then it gets worse, as I start to feel them sucking my magic out of me .

No no no. No one takes my magic from me—

But Nariel—

A rope works two ways.

Gritting my teeth, I gather magic in my hands and tug on the ropes.

No give.

If I can’t make the angel come to me, then—

I can’t move my body; it’s held completely still.

I can’t fly.

Well, fine.

I meet the gaze of the smirking angel before me with teeth bared.

Then I gather my magic for a charge at my back and detonate it behind me.

The angel’s eyes widen as the blast hurtles me, screaming, my back on fire.

Straight at them.

They drop the ropes, trying to dodge before I connect.

And they do dodge, but in an instant I have my hammer out and am swinging, because I have one final blow in me—

Their magic ropes catch my hammer mid-swing.

Lightning still shoots out of my hammer, and before the angel can absorb it, it fries down the ropes and their shield and they’re screaming too—

But so am I, because we’re connected and my shield is down I just fucking electrocuted myself.

The shock, combined with the pain on the entire backside of my body and the sudden loss of magic is too much. With Nariel’s senses, I feel everything.

My consciousness goes dark, and I fall.