And I didn’t have a lot of time.
Sooner or later, somebody was going to realize the obvious: that all they had to do to beat us was to organize themselves into a unit again. And stop trying to fit through the narrow opening that was restricting their numbers and allowing us to defend a small area. And just take out the rest of the ward—
And then somebody did.
I was still trying to see through the crowd when all of a sudden, I didn’t need to. The leader jumped up on a barrel in front of the shops on the other side of the drag, putting him head and shoulders above everyone else. And grabbed a post so he could hang off the side, yelling and waving an arm.
“Form up! Form up! Damn you—form up!”
And shit.
I tried pushing forward, but nothing worked. There were so many bodies, and so much magic being slung around, I could barely tell where forward was. And then it got worse, as the gridlock around the “gate” started to pull back into formation. I ended up on the floor, getting trampled by boots that stomped right through me and coats that slung in my face and dark magic that weighed me down, like a heavy blanket—
Until the surreal moment when I pushed off from the floor, just desperate to get away, to get up—
And I did.
Way up.
It suddenly felt like I was a helium balloon some kid had dropped, that was spiraling out of control, up and over the crowd and rushing toward the ceiling—
And then through it, into the conference room above, freaked out and flailing because I wasn’t sure how to get back down again. Because I didn’t do this. I stepped out of my body and into someone else’s; I didn’t go floating around like a female version of Billy Joe!
But at the moment, that’s what I was. And I found that my thrashing did have an effect. I stopped just short of the ceiling, banked, and swooshed back around, like pushing off the side of a pool when swimming. Except the water was air and the air was in the wrong room and I needed to get back down there, get back down there fast—
Okay, little too fast, I thought, because the ceiling flew by in an instant, and then the crowd was rocketing toward me, and I was pulling up, flying out over their heads, banking and searching—
And finding.
The leader was still on his barrel, and a second later, so was I. And almost falling off the other side, because I didn’t know how to stop properly yet. But I didn’t need to. All I needed now—
Was to step inside.
I’d invaded the body of another dark mage once, one who’d shielded with wood. Or what had looked like wood, because we’re talking magic here. But any element will work as long as it has meaning for you, since it’s just a way to focus your power.
In his case, he’d chosen to visualize what looked like a wooden wall all around his body. Which had been lucky for me, since I ward with fire. My fire had burned through his wood, letting me in and putting me momentarily in charge. Until he figured out what was happening and kicked me out on my insubstantial ass, because the owner of a body always has an advantage.
I’d expected something similar this time.
I didn’t get it.
There was no discernible wall, of wood or anything else, in my way, which should have worried me. But it didn’t. Not until a horrible, shudder-inducing feeling hit as I breached the skin, which I didn’t remember from before. Like I didn’t remember the face that abruptly turned toward mine.
It was made out of fire—not good, not good, because I only knew how to shield with one element. And how was I supposed to burn through fire with more fire? But I didn’t have time to worry about it.
Because, the next second, the eyes rose and locked with mine, and I realized that I had a much bigger problem.
Because they weren’t eyes.
They weren’t anything I’d ever seen before or wanted to see again. Just darkness, but not the normal kind. This was the limitless, unending black of a sky without stars. The emptiness an astronaut sees when his tether has just been cut, and his only way home destroyed. A void, horrible and deep and soul-destroying.
And pulling me in.
I screamed, and the fiery face laughed, laughed as I was drawn down, as I felt pieces of myself begin to disappear into that darkness, as my soul stretched and split and started to tear—
I screamed again, mindlessly, because right then I didn’t have a mind. Right then I barely had anything. It had been just that fast, from shock to terror to terrible, mind-shattering loss, with no tether even in sight anymore as darkness boiled overhead, as it took my sight, as it poured down my throat, as I felt the world slip away. And like that astronaut, began to wheel in endless parabolas, still screaming—
Until someone grasped my fingers.
It wasn’t a grip. It was barely a touch. But in the darkness of absolutely nothing, it felt like everything. I grasped it like a scared child caught in a nightmare, hugged it to me, tried to wrap myself around it, whimpering and sobbing and utterly, utterly terrified.
And that was before something hooked me on the other side, like a barb thrust into my side. Something that didn’t want to lose its prize, something that was trying to drag me down into nothingness, something that was massive and strong and powerful, like no mage could ever be. Something—
That hadn’t expected me to have help.
“Will you challenge me for her, vampire?” An amused voice shivered through the nothingness, as the fiery face looked upward.
And then around, as if it couldn’t quite find its challenger.
“Looking for me?” Mircea’s voice was a whisper, an echo that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I was holding on to his fingers, but I couldn’t have said for certain where he was. And it didn’t look like my captor was having any better luck.
“You dare play games with me?” It almost sounded more surprised than angry.
“You’d be surprised what I dare,” Mircea hissed. And this time, I was sure the voice had come from the left.
So was the face, which abruptly turned that way.
And as it did, a tiny bit of its grip on me loosened.
“No, no. As the humans say, you’re getting colder,” Mircea said, and this time, there was a definite thread of mockery in the tone.
It caused the face to flame up, so hot I could swear it burned me. And to twist to the right, where the voice had come from that time. But Mircea wasn’t there, either.
Because a moment later, he was overhead whispering, “Surely, you can do better than that?” And then from the left again. “See, I was here all the time.” And then from everywhere at once, forming an echo chamber that didn’t make sense, because there was nothing for his voice to echo from—
Only there was.
I could see it suddenly, a hazy vision of the battle on the drag. Not clear, not even close. But like I was viewing it through some type of barrier, thick but transparent, and vaguely tinted. Something like . . .
Someone’s skin.