Fairy’s Touch: Legion of Angels: Book 7 Page 25

  Faris led us through one of the magic mirrors. It brought us to a dark underground cavern. Torches hung on lumpy rock walls. A thick blanket of dust covered the ground.

  “The final challenge will begin here,” Faris told us.

  “The final challenge will begin here? But it won’t end here, will it?” I asked.

  “No, it will not.”

  If he was impressed that I’d picked up that hint in his wording, he didn’t show it. He didn’t look at me any differently than he ever had. He certainly didn’t look at me like I was his daughter, or that he felt anything whatsoever—not even fear that my discovery would cause more trouble for him.

  The gods hadn’t punished Faris for his transgression. Yet. They were so caught up in fighting one another, that they couldn’t agree on anything, even on how to punish the other gods. That certainly hadn’t worked out as Aleris had planned. He’d not set out to create strife like Faris had. He’d exposed the gods’ secrets so they could be punished for them.

  Faris had to know I was his daughter. He’d tested me with the Nectar. He’d put me on his team to keep an eye on me.

  Or was I really his daughter? Dare I hope that another god had had an affair with a demon and that had created me? The gods certainly weren’t keeping their noses clean.

  But would it really be any better to have another god as a father?

  I frowned. I would drive myself mad trying to sort this all out.

  A blinding flash of magic lit up the dark cavern. When my overloaded eyes could focus again, I saw all the other teams were standing with us in a circle. Faris was gone, and in his place, at the middle of the room, equal distance from every team, was an ornate magic key. Reaching it was our next challenge.

  27

  The Key

  The other soldiers’ eyes flickered between their competitors and the glowing key at the center of the room. That had to be Ronan’s artifact. This challenge was so simple on the outside, so straightforward. The gods had not given us potions to block our magic or stripped us of our weapons. At face value, the challenge seemed to be as simple and straightforward as getting to the key before anyone else did.

  But I never took anything at face value.

  Isabelle Battleborn made the first move. She hurled a telekinetic spell at the key, obviously trying to pull the artifact to her. Her spell rippled through the circle of her competitors, but the key remained exactly where it was, unmoved. It seemed immune to this kind of magic.

  Isabelle’s spell backfired off the key and knocked her to the ground. A glowing red translucent shell swallowed up her unconscious body, sheathing it like a cocoon. She’d made the wrong move, and now she was out of the game. Just like that.

  This challenge wasn’t just not at all straightforward; it was completely unforgiving. One mistake, and you were out. One mistake, and your chance at winning the artifact was over.

  Her face haughty, Colonel Silvertongue glanced down at Isabelle’s cocooned body. “Ronan is the god of psychics. Any artifact of his would surely be immune to telekinetic magic.”

  “Besides, that would have been too easy,” General Spellsmiter added.

  The brother and sister angels were watching the key like they were trying to unravel its secrets.

  “The question is, does any magic work on the artifact?” Harker said.

  Andrin performed an elemental spell born from air magic. The key didn’t budge, but his own spell bounced back at him. He cast a shield of magic to ward it off, but the ricocheted spell tore right through it.

  His teammate Colonel Silvertongue cast a dozen magic shields in front of him, woven from holy angel magic, sparkling like diamonds. The rebounded spell pierced the diamond shields one by one, swelling to swallow up Andrin and Colonel Silvertongue. Their cocooned bodies hit the ground.

  “The key might be immune to magic altogether,” Nero said.

  “Or just immune to direct attacks.” Delta stretched out her fingers.

  “What are you doing?” Nero demanded.

  “You’ll see.” Shifting magic sparkled on Delta’s fingers.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.

  “Then it’s a good thing I don’t care what you think,” Delta snapped at me.

  She slithered her magic toward the key. The artifact flickered, then shifted into a white feather. Delta’s victorious simper was short-lived. The feather turned back into a key. It slammed her spell into her, changing her into a feather. A red cocoon swallowed up Delta’s feather body.

  Her plan hadn’t been a bad one, turning the key into something that then floated toward her, but Ronan’s wards were too clever.

  “Our spells just bounce off it,” Siri said. “We can’t bring the key to us.”

  “If we can’t bring the key to us, we need to go to it,” Arius said.

  Siri and Arius exchanged hard looks, then they both sprinted toward the key with inhuman speed. Just as fast, they bounced off the invisible barrier that surrounded the key. As they shot backward through the air, a cocoon swallowed each of them.

  General Spellsmiter stepped up to the key, careful not to get too close. He grabbed a handful of dust off the floor and tossed it lightly. The dusty particles revealed the form of the invisible magic barrier. It was about a foot in diameter, with the key at dead center.

  I waited, but nothing more happened. General Spellsmiter’s dust hadn’t set off the key’s protective measures.

  Because the dust is mundane, not magical, I realized.

  Only magic or magical beings triggered the shield around the key. It actually made a lot of sense. When Ronan had designed the shield, he’d realized that any threat to his key would come from a magical source. The more magic someone had, the more the shield reacted. Ronan had turned our strengths into weaknesses.

  The anti-magic shield made it pretty much impossible to get close to the key, but there had to be a way around it. There had to be a trick. Everything had a weakness. I just had to figure out what it was.

  Leila hit the barrier with elemental magic. She should have known better. Andrin had tried that and failed. But as Leila cast her spell, she ran straight at Harker. She grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him at the backfiring spell. A cocoon slid over his body.

  Clever.

  The force of throwing Harker caused Leila to stumble. General Spellsmiter grabbed her before she could regain her balance and hurled her overhead toward the barrier. A cocoon claimed her and spat her to the ground. Her body hit the floor with a thump, dust swirling up around her.

  While General Spellsmiter’s attention was focused on Leila, Colonel Fireswift blasted him with a psychic spell. General Spellsmiter hit the barrier, vengeance burning in his eyes as the cocoon consumed his body.

  My competition was dropping like flies. I didn’t make a move one way or the other. Nor did Nyx. She didn’t attack anyone. She made sure no one got close enough to attack her, but besides that, she simply stood and watched. When I met her eyes, I realized she’d come to the same conclusion as I had: wait it out, allowing the others to fight amongst themselves, as she developed a strategy to defeat the barrier.

  But what was the right solution? How was I supposed to get past a barrier that blocked and countered all magic?

  It hit me. The solution was so simple, it was almost laughable. Ronan had turned our strengths into weaknesses. I had to flip that around. I had to turn my weaknesses into strengths. The key to getting past his wards was to not have any magic at all.

  I watched the few remaining competitors. Jace was fighting his father. Nero was fighting Nyx. This was my chance, while the others were distracted.

  I grabbed the potion ingredients I kept in my pouches. I had to make a potion that removed all my magic, a potion just like the one Ronan had given me and Nero before dropping us into the City of Ashes. But how did I make such a potion?

  I’d recently read through an ancient book of potions, one my sister Bella had bought from a disreputable deal
er who’d likely stolen it. Inside that book, I’d found a magic-nullifying spell. I struggled to remember the ingredients and instructions.

  Vampire blood to neutralize Vampire’s Kiss. Witch’s Root to cancel out Witch’s Cauldron. Five petals from the siren rose to silence Siren’s Song. Dragon Gold, a glittery powder, to counteract Dragon’s Storm. The wolfsbane flower to nullify Shifter’s Shadow. The hair of a psychic to negate Psychic’s Spell. The lacy white Fairy’s Breath flower blossom to subdue Fairy’s Touch.

  I started mixing my potion into a slim cup I’d taken out of my pouch. All the while, I kept one eye on my competitors, just in case they decided to stop fighting their current opponents and instead come after me.

  The next ingredient was angel juice, a pale golden goo squeezed from an angel’s pimple. Since angels’ perfect skin rarely broke out, the goo was extremely rare and exorbitantly expensive. It was also highly magical.

  Then there were the ghost tears, collected from a telepath directly after a vision. The more powerful the vision, the more potent the tears. The tears were also very expensive.

  I had all the ingredients in my potions pouch. That was a perk of being at the Legion: we got top pick of magical substances. Finally, a catalyst was required to ignite the potion. I dipped a drop of Nectar into the cup. It was the diluted kind Legion soldiers used at parties to unwind, but it should be potent enough for this potion. At least I hoped it was.

  I swirled the potion around a final time, then took a sip. Nothing happened. Maybe I just needed to give it time to take effect. I put a stopper in the vial and tucked it into my jacket for later. The recipe had warned of the consequences of taking too much, but my magic was weird. I might need more.

  Magic slammed into me. I turned to see that Nyx had been the one to launch the spell at me. The look in her eyes told me that I had guessed right about Ronan’s ward—and Nyx had just come to the same solution. She unleashed a series of spells at me.

  The potion was starting to work, albeit really slowly. I still had my magical resistance. That was a good thing in this case, considering that I wasn’t nearly fast enough to dodge all of Nyx’s spells. She was bombarding me from every side. There was no way to run, so I just had to endure. That was much easier with magic than without it.

  The spells slammed into me like a meteor shower. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. It hurt a lot. I barely stayed on my feet.

  I could feel the potion’s weight on me, stripping me of my magic. I had to strike back at Nyx before my magic was completely gone. I shot several psychic spells at Nyx, trying to drive her back. To my surprise, they slammed her down—and she didn’t get back up. How could that be, that I’d knocked out the First Angel? She was a demigod, and my potion was blocking most of my magic.

  My mind went back to the moment that I’d read the potion recipe in that book. A Potion for Nullifying Light Magic, the title had read. It wasn’t the same potion the gods used to strip away magic. Theirs neutralized all magic. This potion had only blocked my light magic.

  Which meant my dark magic was still working. I’d hit Nyx with pure dark magic. That was why it had knocked her out. Angels were weak against dark magic.

  Gods, I really was a weapon.

  No, I couldn’t think about that. It would only cripple me. Emotional turmoil was poison to my mental defenses. Keeping telepaths out of my mind required fortitude and focus.

  Nero was currently engaged in a three-way battle against Jace and Colonel Fireswift. No one was paying any attention to me. They must not have seen me knock out Nyx, or seen my potion either.

  I looked at the key behind the invisible barrier. Was this even going to work? The potion hadn’t stripped away all of my magic. Maybe Ronan’s wards only sensed and reacted to light magic. It was possible. After all, this was a challenge set up for us, soldiers of light magic.

  But could I really afford to risk it?

  There’s no risk without gain, Faris’s words echoed inside my head.

  I pulled my potion out of my jacket and considered it. Bella’s spell book hadn’t specified how to block dark magic, but if Nectar was the catalyst for light magic, then Venom must be the catalyst for dark magic. If only I’d had some Venom on me. Alternately, I could just give the potion to Colonel Fireswift. He was on my team after all. Yes, that was what I’d do.

  I didn’t make it far. Jace knocked me back with psychic punches. Without my light magic to resist his, I flew back much further than I should have. His magic hit me again, flinging the potion out of my hand. He caught the vial, uncapped it, and emptied the contents; at the same time, he ran at the key.

  Unlike with me, the potion worked immediately on him. He went right through the barrier as though it weren’t even there. Then he grabbed the key, claiming it for himself.

  28

  The God's Prisoner

  Jace had won the gods’ final challenge. The magic shield around the key collapsed and exploded into a fiery show, like a firework bursting in the night sky. Magic flashed through the room, dissolving the cocoons.

  “That was dirty, stealing my potion,” I told Jace as the soldiers formerly trapped inside the cocoons rose to their feet, once again conscious.

  If the fireworks hadn’t been obvious enough, this was a definitive sign that the challenge was now over.

  “You’ve taught me a few things,” Jace told me.

  “I didn’t think you were listening.”

  “I would be a fool to ignore you when you’re constantly coming out on top.”

  “When you’re the underdog, you have nowhere to go but up.”

  “That would be the perfect angel name for you, Pierce: Underdog.”

  “Somehow I doubt the Legion would approve. The name Underdog doesn’t exactly instill fear in the hearts of our enemies.”

  “Unlike Pandora,” he chuckled.

  I nodded in agreement. “Yes, everyone fears the Queen of Chaos, the Legion’s Interrogators most of all.”

  I glanced back at Colonel Fireswift, who was closing in behind me like death’s henchman. Unlike his son, he certainly didn’t look amused by my statement. Still, he was glaring at his son more than at me, probably because he expected proper decorum from the son of an angel, especially his own. His steely glare promised more torture in the name of training lay in Jace’s future.

  Jace didn’t meet his father’s eyes, nor the threats burning in them. Instead, he looked down at the artifact he held. “A key.” He flipped over the gold key in his hands. “I wonder what it unlocks.”

  The key began to glow, its light pulsing out. It lit up the dark cavern—but only in one direction. A tentacle of gold light spread out before us, stretching down a long hallway.

  We followed the trail of lights past paintings and statues. Gradually, the dusty dirt floor gave way to a dusty concrete floor. Then dusty concrete yielded to dusty bricks. Further down the trail, the dust was gone, revealing glossy tiles. Every step felt like it brought us further into the light, closer to civilization.

  Then the hallway ended abruptly at a solid brick wall.

  “There has to be a keyhole somewhere.” Jace brushed his hand across the bricks.

  His key glowed in his other hand, its magic light shining onto the wall. Reacting to the key’s magic, the bricks slid aside to reveal a dark space. It was so dark, the shadows so deep, that I couldn’t even tell how big it was. The space could have been tiny, or it could have been an endless abyss.

  A rustling, shifting sound whispered inside the dark space.

  “There’s something moving inside,” Jace said.

  “Not something,” Nero said beside me. “Someone.”

  Metal clinked. The key’s light flickered off a hint of silver. Recognizing the outline of chains, I moved in for a closer look. I cast a light ball spell. It bobbed in the air before me, slowly gliding into the dark space. As it illuminated the area, I saw it was hardly larger than the prisoner chained up inside of it.

  For one exci
ting moment, I thought that I’d found the poor prisoner from my visions, but the person in the dark space was not a woman. He was a man. His clothes were tattered, his skin filthy. Blue feathers drooped weakly from his limp wings.

  “An angel,” I gasped.

  “A dark angel.” Nero pointed out the tattoo on the prisoner’s chest, the symbol of the Dark Force. It consisted of the nine signs of magic—vampire, witch, siren, elemental, shifter, telekinetic, fairy, angel, ghost—all surrounded by the emblem of hell.

  This was Ronan’s secret, that he was keeping a dark angel chained up in his dungeon? That wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, not for the Lord of the Legion, whose angel forces battled hell’s dark angels.

  Cuts marred the dark angel’s body. Dried blood marked the spots where old wounds had healed. It was everywhere, crumbling off him like rust. He stared out of the darkness with haunted blue eyes.

  “Leon,” Nyx gasped, pushing past us to reach the prison cell.

  She looked more surprised than I had ever seen her. Anger quickly trailed that surprise, consuming it. Soon that anger was all that burned in her eyes.

  “Who is Leon?” I asked Nero as Nyx took a closer look at the dark angel.

  “He is the First Betrayer.”

  I’d heard that title. “The first angel that the demons converted to their side.”

  Nero nodded. “He was the first dark angel on Earth, the beginning of their Earthly army. In the early days of the Legion, Leon was part of Nyx’s inner circle. He was one of her first angels, one of the people that she trusted most of all. And then he betrayed her.”

  “Then why does she look so upset that he is being held prisoner?”

  “Leon wasn’t just her trusted soldier. Before she was with Ronan, he was her lover,” Nero explained.

  Nyx emerged from the cell and stormed down the hall, shouting out, “Ronan! Show yourself! Explain this!”

  Ronan appeared in the hallway, right in front of her. Gods did not tolerate being summoned or shouted at, but he didn’t look ready to punish Nyx. Instead, he looked guilty, like he’d been caught in the act.