Demon Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #2)

“We’ll take it.” I nodded encouragingly.

She pointed to the strip of land that we wanted to reach. The mountain rose up steeply behind it. There were at least ten massive land steps where the mountain rose up, then leveled off. Then rose and leveled, rose and leveled.

“Do you see the stone ramps between each flat level?” she asked.

I squinted, finally able to make out the huge ramps made of slate. They were black, like the rest of the mountain, and hard to distinguish, but they were there. One ramp connected each of the flat areas of land, upon which sat old buildings. It looked like you could climb up the mountain by sticking to the ramps, getting higher with every level.

“I see them,” I said.

“Those ramps were built for the tram system that transported the slate and the workers. There are railroad tracks built onto them that would carry the mining carts. They lead all the way up the mountain. Follow the tracks. Do not deviate, or you will anger the Coblynau.”

“Coblynau?”

“Mining goblins. They used to assist the miners. Since operations have been shut down, they have been…bored. You do not want to provide them with a diversion, because I promise you will not like it. They can kill you with a touch, if they so choose.”

“With a touch?” I asked.

“Yes. Even you.” Her gaze was knowing. “Phantom.”

She must’ve seen me shift in the water.

“But nothing can kill me in Phantom form.”

“There, you are wrong,” she said. “The Coblynau’s touch is deadly to all. And you must not kill them. They will only multiply and become enraged.”

Kill me with a touch? Multiply? Yikes.

“Thank you,” Roarke said.

“Thank you for killing the Afanc.” She turned to the stern of the boat and waved her hand at the water. It surged, pushing the boat forward.

“That’s awesome,” I said.

She smiled as she directed us closer to our destination. “It is, rather.”

As the mountain loomed ever closer, the sheer size of the place became more apparent. The ramps were longer than football fields and at least twenty meters wide. The buildings on each of the flat portions of land looked long abandoned.

“All this for slate?” I asked. “It has to be the biggest mine in the world.”

“Not just for slate,” Morwena said.

“What else?”

She shrugged. “Other things.”

The boat beached, the bow shoving up onto the shore. I jumped down, grateful to be off the water, and turned back. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “Remember. Stick to the tracks.”

“We will.” Roarke jumped down beside me.

Morwena waved, then leapt off the boat into the water. She disappeared beneath the black surface without a splash.

“That was good luck.” I pulled the map from my pocket, unfolded it, and scanned the contents. “It mentions a Path Red as Rust. That must be the railroad tracks that Morwena mentioned. We’re supposed to follow it to the Great Black Mouth.”

“Great Black Mouth?” Roarke frowned. “A cave?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I turned to search for the tracks, finding them quickly on the bare beach. They were the rusty iron red of the ones in the woods on the other side of the lake, but there was nothing to obscure them here on the beach.

I set off toward them, Roarke at my side.

He looked up at the first ramp. “That thing is enormous.”

I nodded, climbing up onto it. The angle was steep—at least forty degrees—but the slate that had been used to build it was still well stacked. It was an incredible piece of architecture.

We began to climb. I leaned my weight forward so as not to fall backward, and kept behind Roarke who was faster than me. Soon, I was huffing and puffing, my lungs burning. Beneath my hat, my hair began to sweat. I pulled the hat off and shoved it in my pocket, grateful for the cool air on my head.

We made it to the first flat level, which was carpeted with yellowed grass. A building sat at the top of the ramp, housing a large piece of rusty machinery with broken metal cables hanging out of a massive wheel thing.

“That must be the pulley system that raised and lowered the mining carts,” I said.

Roarke nodded, then pointed to the rusty railroad track that turned left, heading toward another huge ramp that sat fifty yards away. “That way.”

I followed him, sticking to the track, which occasionally disappeared beneath the grass. We passed a couple more roofless and doorless buildings built of slate. I craned my neck to see inside, spotting rusty table saws that looked like they could cut through my motorcycle. Scooter wouldn’t like that. But they must have been for cutting the slate before sending it down the mountain.

We began the hike up the second ramp, then the third and fourth. Despite the light snowfall, I was sweating like an old guy in a sauna, my jacket unzipped and my scarf shoved in my pocket.

“Think we’re almost there?” I wheezed.

Mist shrouded the mountain above, lending it a threatening air.

“Not even close,” Roarke said.

An eerie laugh sounded from a building to our left. I spun just in time to see a sheep run out of the building, hurtling toward us on spindly black legs. I dodged, barely missing its fluffy body, and stumbled in the grass.

“Del!” Roarke grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the tracks, but it was too late.

The laughing sound increased, followed by the scuttling of footsteps on the slate around us.

“The Coblynau,” I said, just as twelve gobliny-looking creatures jumped out from behind piles of slate.

They were about four feet tall and horribly ugly, wearing old-time miners’ clothing. Their eyes and fingertips glowed green. Was that their power to kill with a touch? And Morwena said they would multiply if we killed them. Crap.

“We can’t hurt them.”

“Run,” Roarke said.

We set off down the tracks. I sprinted behind Roarke, my muscles burning. The climb up nearly killed me, but the Coblynau were slower than us because of their short legs. Just barely.

When I turned back, we were nearly at the top. I leapt onto flat ground just in time to see another group of Coblynau pop up on the hill above. They stood on a massive pile of discarded slate right overhead.

Their laughter grew as they began to push and kick the slate. It slipped and slid.

My heart leapt into my throat. “They’re trying for a rockfall!”

“I’ll shift.”

But there was no time. Before Roarke could call upon his magic, the massive pile of slate began to slide down. There was a tiny round building right in front of us. It had massively thick walls and was the only building we’d seen with a roof still remaining. The roof itself was a domed shape, formed by slate that was several feet thick.

I shoved Roarke toward it, diving inside behind him just as thousands of pounds of slate crashed down around us, cutting out all light. Dust billowed in from the entrance to the little hut. I coughed, then sat up.