AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“A few are named but most are formless, from the time before humans walked the earth. They feast on creating havoc, and they fight against order,” I said.
“She’s right,” Rowan said. “They rest in deep slumber until someone powerful enough wakes them out of their primordial ooze. Unfortunately, those gravitating to the Covenant of Chaos tend to be powerful, anarchistic sorcerers and witchblood. They’re strong enough to disrupt the portals leading into the realms of Chaos.”
“Order and chaos are both necessary for life to exist,” I said. “But chaos tends to be stronger than order, so keeping the balance is an essential task, and that’s where the Covenant of Chaos differs from most other witchblood. They seek total chaos, where we seek an equilibrium. So the Court Magika long ago decided that we had to keep on the alert. Before the Covenant formed, there were other organizations dedicated to the same end—but when the chaos magicians banded together to form the Covenant of Chaos, they absorbed a good share of the other groups, which increased their power exponentially.”
Killian shook his head. “So we’re dealing with a massive organization, then. Not simply a group of miscreants.”
“Correct,” Rowan said. “And nothing we can do at this point will disband them. We have to keep pruning away at the tendrils they send out. That may be all we’re able to do. It’s hard to tell if we’ll ever have the full power to dismantle them.”
As we drove, the snow began to swirl around us, the flakes dancing like a ballet of feathers. They twisted in the breeze, and I shivered, staring out the window. The trees around us were stark and barren, the snow beginning to cover the boughs with a soft blanket of white. The sounds of the season were already muffled, the snow acting to soundproof the world around us.
Killian turned onto Miller’s End, and we headed toward the end of the road. The Mystic Wood closed in around the street, growing thick on each side. Here, the woodland was darker, more feral in nature. As unsafe as the Mystic Wood could be around my house, it was far more dangerous here. I wondered if the Fae inhabited the area—the energy felt very much like the Overkings, and I had no doubt there were several portals in the immediate vicinity.
The end of the road lay ahead. The house there looked weathered and abandoned, and I could see, even from inside the car, several spirits wandering the property.
“We’re entering ghostville,” I warned. “Be cautious when we get out. There’s a sense of desperate melancholy here, and with that desperation comes a willingness to do whatever it takes to be free—or happy.” The energy seeped into the car, filling it with a secretive hostility.
As we pulled to a stop near the house, I wondered if Mills was actually in there, and if he was, could he see us? We piled out of the car and Hank handed me my bag. As I reached for it, something caught my attention. Not sure what it was, I paused, closing my eyes as I tried to feel out what I was sensing.
“What is it?” Rowan asked.
I held up my hand, trying to pinpoint what had alerted me. I sorted through the energy. Was it ghosts? That was a no-brainer. I opened my eyes and watched the spirits that were threading their way through the immediate patch of trees. Most of them seemed to be the Wandering Dead, spirits not tied to the place of their death. Often they didn’t even know they were dead. A few, I thought, were Haunts—dangerous dead who were angry at the living. But neither type of spirit was what I had felt. There had to be something else.
I adjusted my inner sight. Were there astral nasties around? Or some form of Cryptid—like Mothman? I cast out, searching. Again, nothing stood out to me.
“January?” Killian knew better than touch me when I was on a psychic search, but he leaned in close and kept his voice low.
I was about to answer when again, an odd sweep of energy rushed past me. I followed it, reaching out to sample the energy and that was when it dawned on me. What I was sensing was alackof magic—a hole in the entire magical field that cast its web throughout the Mystic Wood.
“There are patches around here of broken magic—or rather, a lack of magic. They aren’t sentient beings, but more like a miniature black hole in the web of magical energy. I’m not sure if they’re portals or just…a place where the magical energy can’t penetrate.”
Now that I knew what it was, I scanned the house, as well as the yard around it. “There are a few anti-magic zones—disruption zones—in the house and yard, too.”
Rowan frowned. “I can’t sense them. I’m not sure why. Hank, what about you?”
Hank gave it a try. “I can see them—or rather, I can see where the magic should be and isn’t. This is going to make catching Mills tricky. But it may also play right into our hands. If we can get him in one of those zones and contain him there, he won’t be able to attack us. At least not with any spells.”
I went back to scanning the area, trying to pick up on whether there was a pattern to the anti-magic zones. “There has to be a reason for them. What generally causes an area to go dark like that?”
Hank shook his head. “Usually, if magic has been cast that’s too powerful for the area to contain, it will overload the energy of its surroundings and fry all the circuits. So, if Mills has been casting some powerful magic out here, there’s a good chance he screwed the pooch.”
“Do you think he knows?” Tarvish asked.
Hank shook his head. “When you have as much power as we think he has, there’s even less of a chance he’ll recognize a patch like this, because his own power is so strong. It’s like when you wear a lot of perfume or cologne and get so used to the scent that you can’t recognize how pervasive it is. He’s steeped in his own power and I’m pretty sure it’s going to negate his ability to discern when there’s a blank spot. We should get in there, or we’ll miss the chance to surprise him.”
“Give me a couple minutes,” Killian said, jumping in the back of the SUV.
I rummaged through my bag and pulled out my dagger, affixing it to my belt. Then I pulled out a tiny plastic bottle the size of a perfume sample. It had a good spray radius, and the war water would probably come in handy. I also found a packet of Protection charms that I had recently made and I handed them around. I had barely finished and was about to return the bag to the car when Killian jumped out of the back, a huge gray wolf with brilliant green eyes. He stood nearly up to my waist and as he rubbed up against me, I caught hold of the back door on the SUV to catch my balance. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, then tossed my bag in the back and shut the door.
“Looks like we’re ready,” Rowan said, sliding a ring on her finger. It was a cabochon—a carnelian oval as big as a nickel, set in yellow gold. It flashed with energy and I could feel the heat surrounding her from where I stood.
“Front door? Back door?” I asked.
“I suggest that Rowan and I head around back, while you, Killian, and Hank take the front door,” Tarvish said.
We split up, with Rowan and Tarvish sneaking through the patch of woods directly to the right of the house. Killian, Hank, and I headed toward the front, with me whispering a prayer that Mills wouldn’t have noticed us yet.
As we approached the weathered house, following the overgrown slate rock sidewalk that led to the front door, I tensed, one hand on my dagger, one hand on the war water. I was behind both Hank and Killian, and I did my best to keep focused on the dangerous man we knew waited inside. By the time we reached the door, I realized we had attracted a number of the spirits from the surrounding forest. Most of them seemed curious, but I sensed a couple Haunts among them—angry and ready to start trouble.
