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Adam nodded. “Thousands of years ago, magic and technology existed in a balance. Then humans used magic to lift themselves from barbarism. Extensive use of magic created an imbalance, causing the first shift, when technology began flooding the world in waves. This began the technological age that lasted roughly for six thousand years. Now we have overdeveloped technology, and the world seesawed again—the magic has returned and wiped out our civilization once again.”
Siroun nodded. “Before the shifts, before the imbalance, humans worshipped things. If it frightened them, and they couldn’t kill it, they called it a god. Faith has a lot of power, Adam. Their faith influenced these entities, nurturing them, granting them powers. They are very simple creatures because the people who worshipped them were simple. Now the magic has awakened, and these things are waking up with it. Witches stand closer to nature than most magic users. They seek balance, and sometimes they come across an old presence. These old ones, they are hungry. We molded them into gods, and they want their meal of magic and lives. For whatever reason, Linda Sobanto broke away from her coven and became a priestess to one of those things.”
“What drove her, do you think?”
“Anger.” That was what drove her. Anger at being violated, anger at the ultimate betrayal. “The glyphs on the floor upstairs. They are a prayer.”
“To whom?”
Siroun shook her head. “I don’t know. But I know that what she asked of it cost her. Dealing with gods, even simple gods, never comes without a price tag. Never. They don’t gift. They barter.”
“How do you know all this?” he asked.
Because my sister did the same, and I paid the price. “I’ve seen a hex like this before,” she said, choosing the words very carefully. “I once handled the case of a child. A girl. She was ten years old.”
She wished she hadn’t started this, but now it was too late.
“What happened to the little girl?” Adam asked.
“Her sister was a witch. Their coven was inexperienced but powerful. They came across an old god, and they tried to barter for more power. The god needed a flesh form to exist, so during a really strong magic wave, they gave the little girl to the god. The symbols used were nearly identical.” She kept talking, holding the memories at bay, keeping her voice flat. “The child proved to be more gifted than anticipated. She fought the god off until technology came and ripped it out of her body for good.”
“But she was never the same,” Adam murmured.
“No.”
Siroun read concern in his eyes. Not for Sobanto, for herself. That was the last thing she wanted.
Siroun pushed to her feet. “Time is up.”
They trotted down the stairs. Adam kicked the door, splintering it. Four Red Guards lay on the carpet. She only heard three hearts beating. “Damn it.”
Adam turned the closest man over, picked him up, and gently lowered him on the couch. “Dead.”
“How?”
“Probably an allergic reaction. It happens occasionally.”
She gritted her teeth.
“There is nothing to be done about it now.”
Pointless fury boiled inside her. He wasn’t supposed to die. Why the hell did he die? So stupid …
“We move on,” Adam said.
She snarled. He took a step toward her.
“We move on,” Adam repeated.
She spun on her foot, walked out of the room, and stopped. The floor of the hallway was filled with glowing glyphs.
* * *
Adam watched Siroun as she crouched, hugging the floor. Her face had this odd look, a disturbing mix of sadness, almost sympathy, as if she were at a funeral, comforting a friend. Around her, arcane patterns on the floor emitted glowing tendrils of vapor. The colored fog stretched upward a couple of feet before gently fading.
“It took her months to do this,” she whispered.
The entire length of the hallway floor shimmered with magic. It was oddly beautiful.
