Magic Without Mercy (34 page)

He jerked. The knife sank into his shoulder and the spell he was casting shattered.

Now!

I rushed, slammed him in the injured shoulder, and silenced his scream with a punch in the face. He folded to the ground unconscious.

I spun, ready for a second attacker.

No one else was near me, the fight still a few yards off.

Fewer Hounds and fewer Authority members were still standing. But no one was laying down arms.

Zayvion, Hayden, and Victor were positioned at the front of the onslaught. From the graceful, unconscious way they all seemed to know who was going to throw magic, and who was fighting hand to hand, in a flowing exchange, I suddenly realized that this was not the first bloody battle they had fought in together. They were brutal. Efficient. And worked as a unit.

But so did our enemies.

I heard a yell and turned. Shame and Terric were almost on Jingo Jingo. Twenty yards, ten. I could see the fear on Jingo Jingo’s face as he raised his hand.

The world shook. Thunder rolled beneath our feet, shuddered through the arc of Illusion that covered the park.

Four women and three men stood in a circle near Jingo Jingo and cast a massive Shield around him.

The backwash from the huge Shield spell almost blew Shame and Terric off their feet. Shame leaned into it, walking forward as if through fire. Spells in black and red leaped from his hands, spiral gouts that could sear through metal. But they did not touch Jingo Jingo. Did not harm the Shield.

Terric walked shoulder to shoulder with Shame. Just like on the street with the cop, they pulled magic in a loop between them, black fire dancing in Shame’s hands, white gold liquid pouring from Terric’s. Two hands traced the same spell; two men poured magic into those spells. Magic arced, overlapped, twisted, until there was only one glyph hovering in the air in front of them.

Death.

Sweet hells.

Magic comes with a price. If you kill with magic, you must bear an equal price. To cast Death meant you had to die.

Or so the common magic user believed. There were ways to defer that price, ways to Proxy it, to Offload it on others, that most people did not know about.

But Shame knew. Terric knew too.

Terric threw a Proxy, tied to an Offload, and then cast Ground.

The spell would kill.

The price for that killing would flush through the three spells, spreading the price like a net over the ground, over the trees, over the bushes, over the river. A lot of living things were about to die when that spell hit its mark. But none of those living things were people.

Except for Jingo Jingo.

Jingo Jingo yelled, “To me! All to me!” The Authority turned, retreated, fighting their way to Jingo Jingo’s side.

Except the Hounds wouldn’t let them.

Jamar swung a metal bat like he’d been street brawling all his life, and took out Joshua Romero’s knees. Just to his right, Theresa cast a Sleep spell that knocked six people flat. Ahead of her, Sid cast a Hold spell, locking the twins Carl and La in midstep. The new Hound, Karl, was using some kind of Taser that had a frighteningly quick recharge. But he was not quick enough to stop one of Bartholomew’s goons from aiming a gun at Sid, and shooting him.

Sid crumpled to the ground.

“No! Get the wounded out of there,” I yelled.

Jack and Bea pounded across the distance to where Sid lay and pulled him out of the fray.

Terric and Shame didn’t seem to notice any of this. They drew their hands in perfect, mirrored strokes and threw Death at Jingo’s protectors, at the Shield, at Jingo Jingo.

Then Shame pulled a gun from his coat and aimed at Jingo Jingo’s heart.

He fired shot after shot, emptying out the cartridge, cursing as each bullet flew, wrapping the bullets in bloody black spells.

Still the Shield held.

Terric pulled one of his remaining knives. It glowed white-hot with magic. He threw it at the nearest person holding Jingo Jingo’s Shield.

The woman screamed and buckled as the knife buried in her leg.

And Jingo Jingo’s Shield fell.

The Death spell hit Jingo Jingo square in his massive chest, and riding with it was bullet after bullet. He shuddered, stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock.

Then he smiled. He lifted one wide hand and placed it gently on the injured woman’s head. He stroked her hair, and looking straight at Shame, he drank her life down until she was nothing but bones.

“No!” Shame yelled.

Gasps and cries of shock rose from other people on the field, including members of the Authority. The fighting slowed.

Jingo was bigger now. Stronger. The ghost of the woman he had just killed clung to him, black holes where her eyes should be, serrated teeth hungry for magic. Hungry for death. She was now nothing but a Veiled.

Jingo pointed one thick finger at Shame. A black, electric arc of magic shot out and dug into Shame’s chest.

Shame yelled, but didn’t fall.

Then the electric arc ran bloody as Jingo Jingo drank Shamus’ life down.

I wanted to run. Run to save Shame. Run to save Terric, who fought alone at his side. Run to save my Hounds who were falling, my friends who were dying.

But I could not use magic.

“Zay!” I yelled. “Shame.”

Zay looked across the field. He ran, and even at a dead sprint, he commanded magic to do his bidding, wielded it to cripple, maim, end. Anything, everything, to speed his flight to Shame and Terric.

The battle slowed to an unworldly rhythm. I heard Maeve yell, saw her fall beside an already unconscious Hayden. When had Hayden fallen?

There was blood everywhere.

Paul unloaded his gun into the wave of men, a dozen at least, too many, far too many, who were almost at the wall. Men who threw Unlock, Impact, Implosion, and half a dozen other spells to break the wall. Men who would kill Cody and Nola without a second thought. Men who would destroy Stone.

We were losing. Dying.

“Allie!” Paul yelled.

The wall buckled, magic thinning.

I saw Cody on his knees in front of Stone, Nola standing beside him.

The wall crumbled. Magic tore apart like sand beneath a hurricane.

I couldn’t stop it. I desperately looked for who could. Victor was down, clutching one hand over his bloody eyes, holding a Shield spell in the other. Maeve was on her knees, maintaining a Protection over Hayden’s unconscious form.

Davy and Sunny fought alongside Kevin, barely holding off their attackers. And Collins was nowhere to be seen. That left Zay and me.

We weren’t losing. We had lost.

But I refused to let Nola and Cody die for our failure.

“Zay!” I reached for his soul.

He risked a look, and saw beyond me to the wall that
was falling, to the men who were waiting with swords and magic and knives for Nola and Cody.

And then Paul went down, struck by a bolt of magic that lashed a whip of pure copper fire down his spine.

Zay gave one last look at Shame and Terric, who were fighting against a mob of bodies that pressed in on them, deflecting magic and blows with the unconsciousness of two minds locked between two bodies, using magic in ways no one else could.

Making magic bend to their will.

Soul Complements.

Zay had to choose. Help Shame and Terric kill Jingo Jingo, or save Cody, Nola, and Stone.

Desperation crossed his face as he realized he couldn’t get to either side of the field fast enough. Not without magic.

Zay sheathed his sword and cast Gate.

The explosion of the spell opening in front of him, closing, and instantly opening in front of the wall rocked the park.

And when he stepped through to the wall, he had his sword in his hand again. He wielded so much magic, half the men waiting to kill Cody went down.

And so did the wall.

Zayvion turned and stood with his back to Stone and Cody and Nola, standing between them and me, facing the Authority. He cut another glyph into the air, then spread his arms, his feet braced wide as if ready to bear a great weight.

He spoke three words and magic arched across his body, licking like silver fire, painting glyphs against his skin, against the air. Magic shot out, pouring from his left hand to encircle the boundary of where Cody and Stone and Nola stood, then returned to his right hand. Magic created a barrier, a protection around them.

And Zayvion was that barrier.

The pain of it crawled across my skin and set fire to my nerves. I screamed. Even though I wasn’t touching him, I felt magic devouring him, killing him, burning him alive.

The wall he created was a Grounding, a Shield, a Closing. It was a protection that was powered as much by his body, his will, and his ability to endure pain as by anything else.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t feel my own body beyond his pain.

But I heard Shame yell.

I looked up.

As Terric threw himself between Jingo and Shame. He swung his ax, wielding a Cleave spell. And sliced through Jingo Jingo’s spell that was killing Shame. The spells collided and an explosion poured over him like acid. Terric stiffened.

Terric stood there for a second, a heartbeat, as blood bloomed in patches across his skin and poured free. And then his ax slipped from his bloody hand.

He severed the hold Jingo Jingo had on Shame. But at a cost. At a high cost.

Shame, weak, winded, somehow managed to catch Terric as he fell and lowered his bloody body to the ground. He pulled a Block spell around them, a spell so strong it ate into the ground and sent up tendrils of smoke.

Even at this distance I could read Terric’s lips as he looked up, searching Shame’s face.

“Last thing… we do,” Terric said, his eyes clear though his breathing was ragged and blood poured a river around him. “If it’s the only… thing. We do… together. Kill. That. Bastard.”

“No.” Shame shook his head, dark bangs wet with
blood and sweat. “We’re going to get you to a doctor,” he said. “We’re going to fix you.”

“I know… what my pain’s worth too,” Terric said. “I give you my… life… and soul, Shamus Flynn. Make it worth it. No mercy. Kill Jingo Jingo.”

Terric dragged his hand to the crystal in Shame’s chest and pressed his palm there.

Shame leaned over him, pressing his forehead against Terric’s forehead as if by doing so he could make him hear him, make him listen to him, make him live.

“This isn’t how it happens,” Shame said raggedly. “This isn’t how it ends. Not for you.”

Terric mouthed one last word. I couldn’t tell what it was. It might have been
love
; it might have been
liar
.

Then Terric exhaled, and Shame suddenly breathed in, taking down Terric’s soul, green like growing things, brilliant gold like sunlight, and silver shot with moonlight that poured pure, living energy into the crystal in Shame’s chest, into the air in his lungs. Terric gave Shame his life, his energy, his soul.

And then Terric Conley died and lay still.

S
hame paused, not breathing, holding himself even more still than Terric. Then he gently laid Terric down on the grass. Head low, eyes burning white and silver through the dark swing of his bangs, Shame stood and smashed apart the Block spell.

His back was toward Jingo Jingo, yet he stood there, unguarded. He pulled his chin up and gazed at Zayvion, keeping Cody and Nola and Stone safe, looked at Maeve and Hayden beneath the Shield she held, looked at Davy and Sunny, and Victor and Kevin, all who were still fighting, still breathing, still living.

Even though there was no chance we would win this battle.

And then he looked at me. He knew we couldn’t win. But he made his decision anyway.

“No,” I said, little more than a whisper. “Shame, don’t.”

Shame smiled, and tipped his face to the sky, closing his eyes as if in prayer, as if savoring the last breath he would breathe. He lifted his hands palms up at his sides, welcoming the wind and the rain to wash away his sins.

There was no wind. There was no rain. There was only blood, his blood, Terric’s blood, falling from his fingers.

Collins appeared at his side, the crowbar a tool of destruction in his hand. He kept the members of the
Authority at bay, protecting Shame as he tried to talk sense to him, talk him down out of his rage.

But when Shamus drew his gaze back from the heavens, his eyes burned silver. The golden white light of Terric’s soul flickered out from the crystal in his chest, and slipped down into his hands, his fingers, giving him the life he needed, giving him the strength he needed to kill Jingo Jingo.

The last thing Terric had asked of him. The one thing Terric had given up his life, his soul, for.

Jingo’s death.

Collins’ words fell upon deaf ears.

Shame pulled all that magic into his hands, and more. He drank down the energy of the earth so far away I heard trees crack and groan in the distance.

Then he hurled magic, raw, blasting, burning, jagged flames that needed nothing more than hatred to guide it, lashing, cutting, toward Jingo’s head.

With no Shield to protect him, the spell struck Jingo Jingo right in the middle of his forehead. Jingo rocked back on his feet, clutching at his throat. He fell.

His hand landed on the woman nearest him. And he drank down her life. Using that to bolster him, he pushed up onto his knees, the gaping hole in his head from Shame’s attack closing as he drank down the life of the man next to her, and the next, and the next, a line of people falling to their knees, falling to their deaths to feed him.

Jingo grew larger and larger, fattening himself with each death, growing stronger as he created more and more dead—Veiled who clung to him like a writhing coat of souls.

Hounds screamed and fell; Authority members screamed and fell. Still Jingo drank. Still Jingo destroyed, the circle of death growing and spreading.

The Hounds hustled out of the way, grabbing any wounded people they could, whether Hound or Authority, and dragging them with them. The Authority was doing the same. Repulsed by the monster Jingo Jingo had become, they picked up wounded, dead, friend and foe, and stumbled away in shock, in horror.