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“And that made you not care about your precious balance…?” She matched his flat tone.
“You’ve figured me out, Cat.”
Orion suppressed a smile. At least their banter was somewhat entertaining in such a grim situation. “It’s simple. The door prevents any trespasser from leaving who isn’t loyal to the Crows, and that’s not us.”
What if they didn’t need a counter-spell to open the cellar? The safe house had to be in the Copper Kingdom, didn’t it?
A kingdom connected to Orion’s magic.
He stepped forward. The closer he came to the cellar, the more the wards pushed him away. He called on his magic, gathering energy from every inch of the building. The walls shook and crackled, raining dust over them.
“Ark, what are you doing?” Nava’s wide eyes darted toward the cracks that split the ceiling apart.
Orion took another step closer, so close that the spell burned his skin. He pressed his lips together and pushed harder, reaching for the iron handle of the door. His misty aura rose, the voices of his shadows loud as they growled, lending him pieces of their energy.
He felt like he was stepping into a shield of hot coals or the embers of a fire.
Nava rushed up behind him, and the considerable weight of her magic warmed his spine. He pushed into the ward, and the house groaned. The land knew what it needed to do for its prince, and the Crow’s spell crumbled.
“You two are sickening,” Devon grunted from behind them, but he joined them a moment later. The air crackled with the energy of his magic, further weakening the shielding spell.
The burning sensation against Orion’s skin eased, and the spell cracked further, right before popping like a bubble. Dread crawled up the back of his skull, increasing tenfold now that the protection had vanished.
Multiple haunted moans seeped from the crevices of the door, raising the hairs on his arms. He quickly pushed Nava and Devon backward, and they retreated to the circular room in front of the archives.
With the spell gone, would the spirits pass through the walls?
Orion waited until the first white hand pushed the door ajar. Five long fingers wrapped around the edge of the frame, skin tight around bones.
He stepped in front of Nava, shielding her with his body. Another hand, attached to a decaying arm, crossed the threshold. Then another. Devon cursed loudly and broke into a fit of coughs.
“Get ready,” Orion warned.
Nava lifted her hand, her skin shining, and the bees that crawled the walls took flight all at once. They surrounded them in a cocoon of buzzing bodies.
“We are too large for me to hide us completely, but if they don’t see us, they won’t attack,” she said.
“Cover yourself, Nava. Don’t waste your energy on us.”
She scoffed and continued to hold the shield around them, her skin shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat.
The first spirit that burst from the door had once been a woman. Her long hair stuck to her white face, the rest of her continuously decomposing. She resembled a walking corpse more than a spirit. Devon’s magic flowed from the tips of his fingers, sparking with energy—and she was gone.
Two more followed immediately. Dark blood dripped from their faces, their jaws clanking open and shut. Their ghastly dead cries froze the blood in Orion’s veins.
They fought them down the funnel of the hall, dissipating them, only for three more to emerge hot on their heels. He took a deep breath to calm his erratic breathing and regretted it immediately when the pungent scent of rot mixed with the spice of magic.
A small ball of light floated next to Devon. Where had it come from? Orion opened his mouth to warn his brother just as a Neem materialized out of thin air. Nava gasped, and Orion’s head jerked to the side as another spirit rose from the ground. Its teeth dug into his hand, cutting through layers of skin and flesh. Intense pain shot up his arm, and he fought to pull his hand away, the ripping sensation bringing tears to his eyes.
He hissed, and the shadows of his aura snapped at the spirit that still clung to his body, its nails scratching his neck as it tried to bite his face.
He needed to focus. With a blast of energy, he dissipated the spirits until none remained outside the cellar door.
Well. Almost none. Devon was screaming as a spirit dragged him down the corridor, its thin lips opening wide as a ball of energy glowed in its pitch-black, gaping mouth. Orion flew toward his brother, his wings tearing as they collided with the rock walls around him. He bit his tongue so hard blood coated it.
He barely managed to grab Devon’s flailing hand before the spirit dragged him into the cave-like cellar. Digging his heels into the ground, Orion found purchase. His throbbing hand spilled blood down his wrist and onto Devon’s pale skin.
A ray of black magic snapped from his aura, and the Neem puffed out of existence, leaving them both gasping for air.
