Missing Magic (28 page)

Immediately, the glow’s intensity undulated,
as though in triumph.

A raised dais occupied the far end of the
room. There, on the throne, Natasha waited, the glow surrounding
her like a nimbus of evil. “I’ve been expecting you,” she said, her
voice echoing. “I’ve become stronger, thanks to you. And I’ve
developed other weapons.”

Her foot appeared perfectly healed.

Behind her, the machine hummed. Ready.
Waiting. Without Dee’s touch to protect him, the thing’s power
would have incapacitated Cenrick immediately.

Would have…

He had to pretend
! She squeezed his
hand. Natasha had no idea that Dee’s touch could protect
Cenrick.

Understanding immediately, he dropped to his
knees, moaning convincingly. Dee kept hold of his hand.

Satisfaction in her smug smile, Natasha
glanced at Dee. “And now you. Though you claim to be human, I can
see the truth and know you attempt to lie. My machine will steal
your soul as well.”

Dee stared. Despite her assurances the last
time they met, Natasha apparently still believed Dee to be Fae
also. Fine. If that’s what it took…

Mimicking Cenrick, Dee also dropped to her
knees beside him. All the while never letting go of her grip on his
hand.

Cenrick was her lifeline. Her strength,
protection, and safety. Together, they would have the element of
surprise on their side, which should enable them to best the blonde
woman. She hoped.

Natasha’s laugh echoed around the cavernous
room. “You shall be the second, and the third.” Snapping her
fingers, she gestured and two men came forward, supporting an
unconscious man between them. Dee saw the flash of fear flare in
Cenrick’s eyes, though he kept them downcast so the blonde woman
wouldn’t see.

“My father,” he protested, making his voice
weak.

“Yes, King Roark.” She chuckled. “Three
centuries of power reside inside this one.” She licked her lips. “I
can’t wait until it fills me.” Her expression positively orgasmic,
she stroked the unconscious King’s cheek. “I will be so powerful
then, none can stop me. Then I will take on your Mage and your
Oracle.”

Again she focused on the King, caressing his
white hair lovingly. While her attention was diverted, Cenrick
crawled forward, dragging Dee with him. They managed to advance a
good ten feet without drawing the other woman’s attention.

When she looked at them again, he dropped his
head, pretending an attempt to struggle to his feet. “Stop,” he
choked out. “Take me, instead of him. Leave my father alone.”

The machine hummed while Natasha considered.
Eyes narrowed, she studied them. Then, she shook her head. “All in
good time, my beautiful ones. All in good time.” Again she laughed,
the sound striking Dee as evil incarnate.

Motioning to her bodyguards, Natasha
supervised while they strapped the king in the machine.

While she did this, Cenrick and Dee continued
to creep forward, inch by inch, foot by foot.

Once she had the King secured in her
monstrous invention, she faced Cenrick and Dee again, her
expression full on anticipation. “I’m so going to enjoy making you
watch while I steal your father’s soul.”

Cenrick moaned again, trying for weak. He
must have sounded convincing, because the sound made Natasha
chuckle. As soon as she turned her head, he moved forward another
couple of feet, freezing when she swung around to face them.

With one more, quick look at them, Natasha
crossed the room. She’d set up a laptop on a table – another modern
item which shouldn’t have been able to cross the veil. She lifted
the lid.

The instant she began typing, Cenrick leaned
close to Dee. “Ready?”

She nodded, her muscles tightening as she
prepared to leap to her feet. Beside her, she felt Cenrick do the
same.

Natasha continued typing, occasionally
glancing from her computer to the machine.

The glow intensified as she upped the
power.

King Roark groaned, a loud tortured
sound.

“One, two, three, go!” Together they rushed
Natasha, full out. Surprise and shock reflect in her face when she
realized Cenrick was not incapacitated by her machine.

Savagely, she twisted a dial.

The machine grew louder, the glow
brighter.

King Roark screamed, a blood-curdling sound
of such agony, it chilled the blood.

“Enough!” Cenrick roared. He pointed a finger
at Natasha, muttered a spell. Flame blazed from his hand, directly
at her.

With a sneer, she easily deflected it.
Unafraid, she stood her ground, face alight with an unholy
glee.

He tried another spell, this time a blaze of
pure energy.

This time, instead of deflecting it, Natasha
absorbed the magic into her body. She seemed to swell with power,
and her shadow grew so long she seemed to tower above them.

Meanwhile, the hum and glow from the machine
intensified, reaching a fevered pitch.

The King moaned, struggling against the
restraints. Dee saw he would not last long if they did not rescue
him.

But to do so, they’d have to destroy Natasha
first.

Her two bodyguards rushed them, their solid
bodies full of intent. A simple wave of Cenrick’s hand, and they
feel like muscular bowling pins, and did not move again.

“Have a care with my pets.” Natasha’s warning
swept over them like a northern wind. Face alight with sickly green
and yellows, Natasha raised her hand, pointing at Cenrick.

They felt the build up of magic, even before
she began speaking. When she spoke the words to her spell, using a
language so arcane that even Cenrick did not know it, the
unintelligible syllables resonating in the large room.

Cenrick began to fall. Even though Dee’s
touch shielded him from the machine, she could not protect against
such powerful magic.

Natasha continued to advance, her grim
concentration intense.

“That’s enough,” Dee shouted, moving forward,
Cenrick’s hand still in hers.

Of course, Natasha ignored her.

With her other hand, Dee hit her. The blow
was a good right hook, under the chin, and knocked Natasha to the
floor. When she fell, her elbow caught the edge of the table, and
the laptop tumbled after her. The edge of the plastic casing hit
stone, shattering. The screen went blank.

Instantly, the machine went silent. Dead.

The ominous green glow winked out, leaving
the room in partial darkness, with only the light from the
flickering torches remaining.

“No,” Natasha screamed, her face contorting
as she pushed herself up on her elbows. “You cannot win. I’m
powerful, I’m-—.”

Cenrick pushed to his feet. He spoke a spell
he’d only read of, a spell he’d hoped never to use. Directing all
of his and Dee’s combined energy at the other woman, he shouted the
words into the awful silence.

“No!” With a spastic contortion, Natasha
writhed on the floor. “What is happening to me?”

Bubbling, steaming, smoking, the skin
appeared to be melting from her bones. Dee and Cenrick watched with
horror as the thing Natasha had become dissolved into a puddle of
liquid, before dissipating in a poof of steam.

“She melted,” Cenrick said.

“Ding, dong, the witch is dead.” Dee stared
in morbid fascination.

Behind them, the machine squawked. The laptop
blipped, then made an awful grinding sound. Something inside the
frame began to smoke.

“Father!” They rushed to the still humming
piece of metal. With Dee’s hands on his arm, Cenrick pulled his
father’s limp form from the restraints.

Just in time.

With a horrible screech and howl, the machine
folded in upon itself, the implosion sending a shower of glowing
sparks and whirling smoke. The green glow dissipated, and the
incandescent light blinked out.

Dragging King Roark across the room to
safety, Cenrick faced the mechanical monster, and spoke another
spell.

The machine puffed, smoke and ashes. There
was a flash, echoes of the sickly glow, and then nothing. The
machine was gone.

“Magic and machines have never mixed well,”
Cenrick said. “That would appear to be true here as well.”

The instant the machine vanished, color
flooded the room, returning in a rush of vibrant warmth.

King Roark opened his eyes. “What—-?” He
groaned. “My head.”

Cenrick explained what had happened.

When he’d finished, his father pushed himself
to his feet. “Shaky, but standing,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.
You must go to the Oracle. Let her know what has happened. And find
Mort. If ever there is a time when what has been done to our people
can be undone, this is the time.”

Without waiting for a response, the King
clapped his hand.

Cenrick and Dee went.

THIS TIME when they arrived at the base of
the stone steps, the Oracle waited. “There has been a subtle shift
in the fabric of existence,” she said, her scarlet eyes glowing
steadily from within the shadows of her hood. “What has
happened?”

Quickly, Cenrick told her of destroying
Natasha and her machine. “My father has said this is the time to
try and heal the others.”

“Heal them? If you have freed all the
captured souls, their inherent magic will bring them home to their
rightful bodies. Come.” She turned and hurried away, motioning to
them to follow. “We shall move among the Soulless and touch
them.”

“Touch them?” Cenrick asked, as they followed
her.

“By doing so, we may awaken them.”

When they reached the first cave, at first
glance, nothing appeared to have changed. Still the Fae milled
aimlessly, nothing behind their eyes.

“Watch.” The Oracle reached out and grabbed
the arm of a tall, slender man.

“Who?” He started, shaking his head as though
to dislodge water in his ears. “What? Where am I?” Cognizance
flooded his eyes. “Who are you?”

Murmuring soothing words of a later
explanation, the Oracle turned away from him, motioning Cenrick and
Dee closer. “Move among them, touch all you can. If they ask for an
explanation, promise one later. But all must be awakened before too
much time has passed.

They did as she asked, going among the crowd
and reaching out, grabbing an elbow here, brushing against a hand
there. And each Fae they came in contact with started awake,
awareness flooding the eyes that before were blank.

And while helping awaken them, Dee
continually searched for the one she most wanted returned to
normal. Mick.

In the middle of the milling crowd, half
aware and half still Soulless, they found Peter. When Dee touched
his cheek, he clutched at her hand, his expression bewildered.
“Dee? Am I in Rune? What are you doing here? For that matter, what
am I doing here?”

Shaking her head, she cupped his familiar
face in her hands and kissed him lightly on the mouth, conscious of
finally being able to say goodbye to this part of her past. “I’m
sorry, Pete. I’m looking for Mick. Someone else will answer your
questions later.”

She let him go, attempting to brush past him,
when he caught at her arm. “Dee? Don’t go. We were engaged. I need
you now. You can find Mick later. Help me.”

His demand made no sense to her. “Peter, you
were correct to break up with me when you did. We weren’t right for
each other. Now let me go. I’ve got to find Mick.”

“Mick?” His mouth twisted as he tightened his
grip on her arm. “Don’t you realize Mick’s the one who sold you
out? He tricked all of us, bringing us to that witch and her
contraption so she could steal our souls.” He spat. “Mick’s nothing
to me.”

Dee tugged at her arm, trying to disengage
herself. “Whatever he’s done, Mick’s my family. He’s all I have.
I’ve got to find him. Now, let me go.”

Peter started to argue, then closed his
mouth, looking at something over her shoulder.

Then Cenrick was at her side. “Do you need
help?” he asked, his voice low and menacing, his gaze on Peter.

Peter let go of her arm, watching as Cenrick
took Dee’s hand. “So that’s how it is,” he said. “You certainly
didn’t waste any time replacing me.”

Dee ignored him. Grimly, she scanned the
crowd for the one beloved face she couldn’t find. “Cenrick, I can’t
locate Mick. Help me find him.”

They searched among the crowd by the pool,
lightly touching each Fae they passed to awaken them, but found no
sign of Mick.

On the other side of the pool they found
Mort, doing his part. The Mage told them he’d seen Mick, along with
Galyeon, outside the main cave. They’d already been awakened.

Dee hurried outside, Cenrick alongside
her.

There, they finally spotted Mick wandering
alone. He looked bewildered. Dee’s heart clenched with fear as she
saw him, stumbling along the edge of the cliffs near the steps.

“Mick!” She hurried over, gently steering him
away from the dangerous precipice. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Dee?” His elegant face crumpled. “I thought
she had you.” He looked beyond Dee, finding Cenrick standing behind
her. “And you as well, my Prince. Oh, what I’ve done.” I am so
sorry. More sorry than I can say.”

Dee held out her arms and, after a brief
hesitation, Mick walked into them. She hugged his slender body,
holding him close. “No matter what you’ve done, you’re the brother
of my heart.”

At her words, he pulled away, his face full
of shame. “I don’t deserve to live. Not only have I dishonored my
badge, but I almost destroyed the Fae.”

“What did you do, exactly?” Dee asked. “I’m
not sure I understand your role in this.”

He hung his head. “When Natasha first built
her machine, she needed Fae to test it on. Then, neither of us knew
what it would do. Even knowing this, I led my friends to her like
sheep to a slaughter.” He peered up at Dee through his long lashes.
“Peter was in this first group.”