She pressed her palm into the symbol, and a bright flash of light shimmered over the symbol, as if catching fire. The cut on her hand seared shut in a breath-stealing second. Magic thundered out of her, powering the sigil, before it slammed against Atlas. The spots of her blood flared a bright red, before slithering beneath his skin.
He jolted, and gritted his teeth as he bit back a startled yelp, his back arching as the magic began to repair the damage. His flesh rippled, tendons worming their way across his back as his muscles twisted together. His skin bubbled up like liquid, spreading across the injuries, then smoothed out to reveal the unblemished surface of his back.
The magic vanished as quickly as it came, and she staggered when the power left her suddenly, as if she was coming down off a high. The sudden lack of energy left her light-headed, her bones a little hollow and tender.
No one spoke for a few heartbeats.
“Is that normal?”
“No, but if you’re desperate, you’ll be able to use your blood and the runes until we can figure out what’s blocking you from using magic directly.” Despite his dry statement, he seemed spooked at the way her magic responded to her request.
Morgan reached up, brushing her fingers against her necklace. While it restricted her magic, it didn’t stop its use. “Did someone bind my magic?”
The door banged open with a loud crack, and the crazy old elf barged in the room, glancing at each of them before storming up to her.
“You lied!” He pointed an accusing finger at her, his blue eyes lighting with an inner fire. “You drew magic. It still clings to you like a brat to a mother’s skirts.”
“Beware.” Ward muttered the warning under his breath as the elf rushed forward in a flurry of robes.
“Come. You will assist me with my experiments.” He grabbed her arm, dragging her after him, the old coot stronger than she expected, and she was forced to stumble after him when she couldn’t break his hold.
“I wish I could help, but we were separated from the rest of our group. We can’t stay.”
The elf shook his head, waving a hand to brush away her protest. “If you want to stay out of the fog, everyone needs to earn their keep. Your group is safe…for now.”
His high-pitched, girly laugh bordered on maniacal, raising the hairs on the back of her neck, while the ominous words had her head snapping around to study him. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see them later tonight…at the games.” He stopped in front of his lab bench, releasing her to drag his hand across the surface to clear the space, sending the clutter crashing to the floor.
“Games?”
“You’ll see.” His sing-song voice only made her worry more.
She watched him grab a syringe, filling it with a liquid substance with a splash of red that looked a little too much like blood for her comfort. When he yanked up his sleeve, she nearly gagged. The scent of rotting flesh soured the air, and his arm looked almost honeycombed, where maggots had burrowed into his flesh. His skin was greasy, as if his whole arm had been remodeled with wet clay.
Without missing a beat, he jammed the tip of the needle into his arm and injected himself with some sort of toxin.
He shook out his sleeve, tossing the syringe on the table, raising a brow at her revolted expression. “It’s my own concoction, granting me temporary immunity to the fog, but I can’t sustain the potion. Each time, I require more and more of the serum, the effects wearing off quicker each time. You’re going to help me find a permanent solution.”
Morgan turned to see that Ward and Atlas had followed her into the now-crowded room.
The crazy old elf noticed at the same time and scowled. “I know you.”
“We have never met.” Ward spoke first.
The elf grabbed the pendant around his neck, studying the clear stone, then grunted when nothing happened. “No. You?” He glared at Atlas. “I know you.”
“I haven’t been to court in over a decade. I’ve been living earthside.” Atlas stepped closer to her, and Morgan edged away from the old elf, not sure she trusted the vicious undertone in the room, needing space to move if violence erupted.
The elf once again studied his pendant, and a slight pink glowed at the center. That’s when she realized it must be a truth stone. They were very rare and very expensive. When the elf didn’t see what he wanted, he began to mumble under his breath, tucking the stone to his chest protectively when he saw them watching.
“You two clean up that workstation.” He waved them away dismissively, then turned toward her with a smarmy smile. “You may call me Katar.”
He began to assemble bottles on the work station, humming and muttering to himself under his breath, and she decided he was blissfully unaware of the fact that he’d completely lost his mind. “Why do you need my help?”
“Almost everyone in this godforsaken village is already infected, their magic either tainted or gone completely. We’re among the last few left.”
“And why do you need magic?” Something about his obsessive, almost frantic movements put her on edge.
“The fog is attracted to magic.” He shot her a look that said he thought she was an idiot.
Ward shook his head, and she heeded his warning, breaking off her questioning. The last thing they needed was for him to lose his shit any more than what was already gone. “Look, I wish I could help you, but my magic is dormant. I’m unable to cast.”
The elf peered at his stone, a scowl twisting his face. “No, that can’t be right.”
He turned and grabbed her arm, striking faster than a snake, and slashed her with a knife, drawing a welt of blood along the back of her hand.
“Hey!”
Both Ward and Atlas tensed, but she gave them a subtle shake of her head. They needed answers and a way to find the rest of the team. If they caused a ruckus, they could lose their chance. The elf collected her blood by scraping the knife along her hand, hacking off layers of her skin in the process.
He tottered over to a shelf, plucked off a jar and brought it back to the workplace. Curiosity got the better of her, and she followed.
He set the jar on the surface, drew back his hand, and slammed the knife clear through the glass, muttering a spell under his breath. Magic splashed into the room, a darkness to it that slithered against her skin, and she quickly stumbled away when it felt like millions of centipedes were trying to worm their way inside her body.
To her surprise, instead of shattering the glass, the knife and her blood passed clear through.
That’s when she saw what was inside for the first time.
Fog.
He was feeding her blood to the fog.
Morgan, a little morbidly, considered herself lucky that he hadn’t shoved her out the door like the elves at the castle did to their test subjects.
But instead of feeding on the magic in her blood and turning it black, the fog recoiled, condensing at the far end of the jar, as if frantic to escape.
Instead of being pleased, the test sent a shiver of dread down her spine.
“Good.” Katar continued to watch the jar so avidly, it was like a creep watching a porno, his fingertips brushing covetously against the glass surface. He shook the jar for good measure, but her blood remained untouched, and a smile twisted his face until he was beaming. “We must do more testing.”
The hair on her arms rose at his gleeful tone, and she knew she wasn’t going to enjoy his version of testing.
Chapter Nineteen
“Nononono!” Katar threw a book at her head, and she barely ducked in time to avoid having her face bashed. “You’re not trying hard enough.”
“And I’ve told you that I am unable to cast magic. Repeatedly.” Morgan resisted the temptation to deck the fucker and leave, but if he had a way to cure the fog, they needed to keep trying. It was better than anything she’d come up with…which was nothing. Too bad Katar appeared to be as mad as a hatter. “Practice isn’t going to make my magic suddenly work. Don’t you think I’ve tried?”