Missing Magic (27 page)

Grim, Cenrick had no choice but to agree.
“Mick. We haven’t been able to locate him either.”

Now the Oracle spoke for the first time since
bidding them enter. “Talmick is here.” Her voice sounded weary and
forlorn.

Cenrick stared. For his lifetime, his
fathers, and many centuries before that, the Oracle had always been
all-powerful. Now she sounded defeated, beaten.

“Talmick?” Dee asked, not recognizing the
name.

“Talmick is Mick’s real name.” Cenrick
squeezed Dee’s hand before he turned his attention back to the
Oracle. “What do you mean Mick’s here?”

“They all make their way home, once
everything has been taken from them.”

His stomach dropped as the Oracle’s words
sunk in. They were too late, at least for Mick.

With a strangled cry, Dee sagged against him.
Then, visibly collecting herself, she squared her shoulders and
looked the Oracle directly in the face. “You mean he’s—.”

“One of the Soulless now.” The red glow of
the Oracle’s eyes flared. “And still more come. Daily, sometimes
hourly.”

“Aye.” Mort shook his head. “Soon, every Fae
who lives within the human world will be decimated.”

“And worse.” The Oracle’s voice regained a
touch of its old resonance. “Rune itself is now in danger. This
Natasha has crossed the veil. She is here. And she has her machine
with her.”

“HERE?” CENRICK, Dee, and Mort all exclaimed
at once. “How?”

The Oracle’s eyes glowed scarlet as she
focused on Cenrick. “You led her here.”

A great weariness seized him. “I? I tried to
use magic against her. Instead, the spell sent us here.”

“Unfortunately, you showed her the way. When
the magic used the last of your strength to bring you home, this
showed her the way into Rune.”

Shocked, Cenrick glanced at Dee. Though her
amber eyes were narrowed, he saw no accusation in her face.

Still, that did not negate the fact that he
had failed his people. Momentously. Not only had he been
unsuccessful in destroying Natasha and her evil machine, but he’d
brought her to the very place he’d wanted to protect. Rune.

“Wouldn’t she need a lot of magic to emulate
Cenrick’s spell? I know she has some, but in the end, she’s still
human.” Ever the voice of reason, Dee’s comment nearly made him
smile. Nearly.

“She has magic,” the Oracle responded. “She
has become a powerful mage, in her own right.”

“But how?” Dee persisted. “How is this
possible?”

This time, Cenrick answered. “She has somehow
gathered all the magic from those Fae she ruined, and taken it into
herself. She resonates with power, and were she truly Fae, she
would be greatly feared.”

“Or revered.” Mort’s mournful sigh echoed
Cenrick’s weariness. “Unfortunately, she is evil.”

Dee shook her head. “Okay, so she has magic.
Still, you could give me magic, and I wouldn’t know how to use it.
How did this Natasha figure out how to get to Rune?”

“My spell. She must have recorded it.”

“That still doesn’t explain how was she able
to bring that machine of hers, made of metal, across with her. My
gun never crosses with me.”

“She followed on the tail of your crossing.
She has used your own magic to bring herself to Rune.” Mort’s voice
was heavy. “As to how she was able to bring human metal and
machinery with her, we don’t know. But she has. I have seen her, as
has the Oracle. The machine is here.”

From her perch on the back of his chair,
Tinth screeched again. The sound echoed around the stone room.

“My hawk is afraid.” Mort indicated the huge
bird.

“So should we all be.” The Oracle rose, her
robes billowing out around her like white smoke. “This battle will
begin sooner than you think. But for now, come with me. I’ll take
you to see Talmick.”

“Mick.” Dee stumbled, looking at Cenrick with
sorrowful eyes.

He took her hand, his chest tight, and spoke
for her. “Peter is still here, too?”

“Yes.” Mort replied. “They all are.”

Dee made no comment.

Offering her silent comfort, Cenrick squeezed
her hand. Moving silently beside him, he didn’t understand why she
didn’t respond at all to the mention of her former intended.

Perhaps he’d been wrong? Maybe Dee didn’t
pine for Peter after all. Through every step of the way, her
concern had been for Mick, the brother of her heart.

The aching in his chest lightened at the
thought.

As before, the Oracle led them to down deep
into the earth. “The Pool of Dreamers dries more each passing day.”
A great sorrow filled her voice. “The Soulless Ones drink from the
water, using it to sustain their empty lives. Now the magic of the
earth will no longer replenish it.”

“Why?” Cenrick asked. “The Pool has always
refilled itself.”

“I know not, though I think it has something
to do with the absence of magic. In these caves, I alone still
retain my magic, my soul. Though I try, my power alone is not
enough to sustain the hungry earth. I have not enough to give her,
so the water turns bracken and dies.”

“Can we help?” Dee wanted to know. “Is there
something Cenrick and the Mage can do to help restore the
pool?”

Stiff shouldered, the Oracle continued
leading the way down, and did not answer.

Beside him, Dee subsided into silence. One
look at her pinched, miserable expression, and Cenrick knew her
thoughts were with her former fiancé. He vowed once Natasha and her
evil machine were vanquished, he personally would heal Peter and
lead the man to Dee’s side. If Peter did not love her, he at least
owed Dee an explanation. Closure. While living in the human world,
he’d heard a lot about this closure, and the value human females
placed on obtaining it.

Still, he could not help but wonder how Peter
could be such a fool.

When they finally reached the large chamber
under the earth, Cenrick saw what she’d meant. The once immense
Pool had withered, to little more than a pond. Even the water
seemed bracken, as though what magic which had given it life had
fled.

Here, like outside, the damaged Fae were so
numerous they crowded the rock walls, filling the crevices where
they slept and reclined. Many still wandered, moving through the
silent crowd like wraiths.

“How many are there now?” Shock felt like a
knife in Cenrick’s chest.

“Well over a thousand.” Mort answered.

“How is that possible? Mick didn’t have that
many friends.”

“Friend of a friend of a friend, and so on.”
Mort waved his hand. “There are still many thousand more living
among the humans.”

Dee stood on tip-toes, scanning the
crowd.

“Are you looking for Peter?” Cenrick asked,
the awful weight on his chest doubling at the pain in her eyes.

“No, Mick.” She said, turning to the Oracle.
“Where is he?”

“There, you will find Talmick.” The Oracle
swept her arms, indicating the vast crowd milling in the cave. “And
Cenrick, if you look closely at their faces, you will see many
others you have known since you were a child.”

Such sorrow rang in her voice that Cenrick’s
throat tightened.

“There,” Dee gasped, yanking her hand from
his and unerringly making her way across the pockmarked rock to a
small knot of Fae.

Cenrick followed close behind, helping her
push aside the immobile and unaware others. He saw one man he
recognized, and one woman, people who had taught him magic in his
youth. In the midst of these stood his cousin Talmick, slack-jawed
and hollow eyed. “Mick.” Crying openly now, Dee gathered the
slender man close. Completely unresponsive, he seemed unaware of
them, indeed unaware of anything, save what he might see inside his
own head.

“I’ve failed him.” Dee turned her face to
his, letting him see the fury and the despair in her eyes. “They
took his soul and we let it happen.”

“They have harmed more than he.”
Stern-voiced, the Oracle stepped between them, gently disentangling
Mick from Dee and sending him shuffling off in the opposite
direction.

Tears streaming down her face, Dee watched
him go.

“Come with me.” The Oracle turned to go, Mort
close behind her.

Unresisting, Dee let Cenrick take her arm. He
led her from the chamber behind the others, and back out into the
passage. All silent, they climbed until they stood once more in the
great, hollow cave of the Oracle.

“Do you see what needs to be done?” Mort
touched Cenrick’s shoulder, his gaze full of both worry and hope.
Cradling a too-silent Dee, Cenrick nodded. “I need more than
magic.”

“You already have more than magic,” the
Oracle turned to face them, eyes blazing scarlet. Full and strong,
her voice once again had the ring of prophecy. “Much more than
magic, if you will but use it.”

In the still, quiet air, the sound of wind
chimes began.

A moment later, the scent of Oracle’s heady
incense, so notably absent before, filled the cave.

“Magic returns with your coming. Together, if
you will but see the way, you can call forth more than magic.”

Staring at the Oracle, the hair on Cenrick’s
arms rose and he knew, though he did not yet understand, the great
Fae wizard-woman spoke true.

More than magic. Where
?
How
?

Dee sagged against him. Despite the fact that
the Oracle and Mort watched, Cenrick gathered her and held her
close, letting her cry silently.

Finally, she straightened. Swiping at her
face, she looked at the Oracle. “There is one thing I need to
know.”

“You may ask.”

“Once we’ve located this… monstrosity and
stopped it, will you be able to restore these poor, lost Fae their
souls?”

The Oracle’s gaze flared again, bright red
this time, like blood welling from a fresh wound, before she turned
to look at the slack-jawed Fae shuffling aimlessly about. “That is
my fondest hope,” she replied. “I will do all that is within my
power to help them.

Tinth screeched, spreading her immense wings.
Mort spoke soothingly to the huge bird, and she settled back
without a ruffled feather.

“Tell us where we might find Natasha.”
Keeping his arm around Dee, Cenrick faced the two wise ones.

Mort and the Oracle exchanged a look. “She is
at the palace, preparing to rule the ruined city.”

Horrified, Cenrick froze. “My father is
there. Alone.”

Dee gripped his arm. “We’ve got to go.
Now.”

They turned to go.

“Wait.” The Oracle’s command stopped them.
“You have not listened to us before, so we shall tell you once
more. Sometimes, two halves of the same soul must join to combine
their strength. This is one of those times when such power is
needed.”

“More than Magic,” Mort intoned. “This
joining will bring the power forth.”

Cenrick frowned. “I’ve already been to see
Alrick.”

“Alrick?” Frowning, the Mage shook his head.
“What’s Alrick got to do with this?”

“Two halves of the same soul.” Cenrick waved
his hand. “People were always saying twins such as Alrick and I
shared a single soul.”

“No.” The Oracle turned away, as if
disgusted. “I’ve already told Dee that is not what we meant.” She
waved him forward. “Go to the palace. See if you can stop her. But
I can promise you this. If you do not put the power of the two
halves together, this Natasha will win.”

She clapped her hands.

And Cenrick and Dee stood again in the
meadow, among the dead and dying flowers. The gray outline of the
castle shone dimly through the thickening fog. Glowing.

The sickly yellow lit up the drab sky like an
obscene bonfire.

“That’s like Mick’s house looked.” Dee
sounded as exhausted as he felt. And furious.

“She’s there,” Cenrick said, letting his own
rage show in his voice. “She and that damnable machine.”

They moved forward, walking carefully.

He looked at her, noting the fierce light
shining in her amber eyes. “I still don’t understand how she did
it. How did she get the metal across the veil? Such a thing is not
possible without great magical ability. Even the Oracle and the
Mage could not say how she did this.”

“I don’t know, but I sure wish I could have
brought my pistol.” Dee patted her empty holster. It would have
come in handy right about now.”

He thought of where they’d been when they
crossed the veil, and grimaced. “I hope she doesn’t have it.”

Dee’s mouth worked. “Me too. That Ruger packs
a pretty punch. You saw what it did to her foot.”

“Metal should not cross the veil. Even a
former enemy from the future could not do this. It makes no
sense.”

“If she’s taken all those Fae’s magic into
herself, then she
has
great magical ability,” Dee pointed
out. “Which makes her dangerous.”

“Dangerous, true. But this is our chance.
We’ve got to destroy her and her creation.”

“We can, we will.” Confidence in her voice,
Dee clutched his hand. “As long as you don’t let go of me, you’ll
be protected. Remember that.”

He nodded.

Together they dashed up the steps. Inside,
the glow took on a phosphorous quality, shimmering on gray, dead
walls and floors.

“This way.” Footsteps echoing, they ran down
a hallway, following the green. “I think it’s coming from the
throne room.”

As they approached, the light grew brighter,
more insistent. Before they reached them, the double doors flung
themselves open.

The light blazing from within was brighter
than searchlights, blinding with its seductive malevolence.
Beckoning, calling, as though it recognized them.

Suddenly afraid, Dee looked up at Cenrick.
With a fierce smile, he kissed her hard. “Ready?”

She nodded. “Don’t let go of my hand.”

Together, they stepped inside.