Ancient Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Huntress #1)

There were three demons on the ground and they all turned to me. Mine. I flung Righty at one. It sunk deep into his neck. I called the blade back as the demon fell, then turned to another.

Just in time to see him pick up a golden orb that sat alone on a majestic pedestal in the middle of the room. It was the only piece of treasure not on a shelf.

He lifted it and aimed at Aidan.

“No!” I shouted.

The number one rule in tomb raiding—never, ever pick up something that sits alone on a pedestal. It always sets off a booby trap, and it’s almost always of the giant rock variety. Hadn’t he seen Indiana Jones?

‘Course not. He was a demon. And now we were screwed.

A crack streaked across the ceiling like lightning. Aidan hovered in the air beneath, going for a demon that clung to one of the tall shelves. A second later, a boulder fell from the ceiling. Then another, straight onto Aidan. It hit him in the shoulder, knocking him out of the air.

His huge form plummeted, thudding to the ground. Rocks crashed around him. He didn’t get up.

No! He was going to be crushed to death.

My magic flared to life. Blindly, I reached out for his gift, terrified.

I was risking my life for his, but I couldn’t stop myself. If I didn’t bring this whole place down with my uncontrollable power, he could figure out what I was.

I opened myself up to his magic, not even trying, and it crashed into me. Like the waves I’d heard when I’d first met him, it swamped me. Power flooded my senses, making my skin tingle and my head buzz. I grasped with my mind, trying to sort through the myriad of gifts that were now at my disposal. Fire, water, wind, rock. He could control them all.

I didn’t know what to do—I’d never practiced—so I went on instinct. I dropped my knives and threw my hands out toward the falling rock, envisioning them flying away from Aidan. I poured everything into it, my will and hope and determination.

The rocks hurtled horizontally through the air, diverting themselves from the griffon. Boulders plowed into the walls, causing even more damage than they would have if they’d fallen, but at least Aidan was alive.

Sweat poured down my face as I kept up the stream of power. Breath burned in my lungs.

Finally, the rocks stopped falling. I dropped my hands and bent over, panting. Fortunately, we were inside a mountain, so the battered walls would still hold. I’d destroyed some of the bookshelves and hoped the scroll had been on one.

I only had a second to recover. It wasn’t enough. Using that much magic was draining. I’d forgotten about the surviving demons. One plowed into my middle, throwing me to the ground.

Though I tried to fight back, I was weak from using my power.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aidan rise to his feet. He launched into the air again, swooping down to pull the demon off me.

I scrambled up, more awkward than I’d ever been, and grabbed my blades. Another demon jumped out at me from behind a pile of rubble. Startled, I flung Righty at him. My arm was so weak that my aim was way off. It sunk into his shoulder, and he crashed to his back. I limped to him and straddled him, then grabbed the dagger plunged into his shoulder and twisted.

“What do you know?” I panted.

His black eyes met mine, and he just stared at me, as if the pain didn’t affect him at all.

A blast of burning smoke slammed into me. I crashed to the ground beside the demon. He pulled my dagger from his chest, then scrambled up and toward the figure who’d blasted me.

I grabbed my blade and flung it at him. He collapsed. I staggered to my feet. Fates, I was so weak!

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Aidan tearing apart the demon who’d blasted smoke.

Good.

I swiped Lefty across the cut on the back of my hand, and Righty yanked itself out of the demon’s chest, returning to me. I spun, looking for more prey.

The last demon stood in front of the soaring bookshelves.

I blinked. It wasn’t a demon. It was a man. A Magica of some kind. I hadn’t noticed him earlier, but he was definitely not a demon. I threw Righty at him. It sank into his shoulder.

Damn it! I was so tired I couldn’t even throw straight.

I called the blade back to me. As it was pulling itself from his shoulder, he dug something out of his pocket and hurled it to the ground. A puff of glittering silver smoke wafted up, and he stepped into it.

As he disappeared, I saw the big ivory scroll gripped in his hand.

“No!” I reached out, but he was gone. At the last second, I snagged the blade that flew toward me.

The rest of the place was in chaos—rocks everywhere, golden objects glinting from every nook and cranny—but there were no more living demons. One lay on the ground, though.

Maybe he wasn’t dead yet. I stumbled toward him as griffon-Aidan landed and transformed back into a man. The demon was sprawled on his back, his middle looking crushed. His face was a waxy gray. Aidan must have crushed him and dropped him, but he wasn’t dead yet if he hadn’t disappeared.

I smacked his face. “Wake up!”

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