Birthright - Book 2 of the Legacy Series (An Urban Fantasy Novel) (35 page)

I pointed the glowing Djinn at him. “Even as powerful as I am right now, I’m not sure. But I sure as hell can take you down with me.”

Mephisto halted and his eyes narrowed. We began a staring contest, each glaring into the other’s eyes.

“Enough,” said Gil. She took a deep breath. “I have archived all of father’s journals and contacts. That was one of the steps I took in order to start the Ashendale business from scratch. But as Head of Household, I can look at them again. There may be a contact number.”

I lowered my weapon. “Good. When you find him, give him this message — tomorrow, at high noon. Sawtooth Mountain. Tell him to get his affairs in order.”

I turned to leave and walked directly into the forest fire. A normal wizard would have just used the cover of night to run away undetected. But out of principle, I knew my sister wouldn’t stab me in the back. Still, I felt a show of power was necessary.

As I walked, I extended my left hand and tapped into the connection I felt with the forest. The fire still had a portion of my power in it and I called it back. The flames roared toward me and into my left hand. With a loud
whoosh,
the flames formed a vortex and I sucked them into me. All that power was transferred back to its original state – massive shadows writhed around me before receding. The effect only lasted for a second, and I was sure Gil couldn’t see the darkness around me, not against the darkness of the night. But she could feel the massive torrent of power, and I could feel her fear and awe. I could feel it as her brain came to the simple conclusion – that I was far more powerful than anything she’d ever encountered, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop me.

Sawtooth Mountain wasn’t the tallest peak in the Trinity Alps. I mean, eight thousand feet are nothing to scoff at, but hikers and mountaineers venture on it sometimes. I remember when Gil and I used to climb it, a process that took hours and did wonders for your stamina. But it wasn’t the most treacherous of mountains.

No, the reason I chose it was a small bed of snow a few hundred feet from the peak. There was absolutely nothing there – no trees, no rocks or animals. Just snow, ice and emptiness; a true open ground. And that’s exactly where I wanted to meet Crowley. No more hiding and no more subterfuge — this was a showdown between two wizards, and the loser would pay with his life.

After the fight at the mansion, I made my way to the peak. My body moved on its own, not stopping for rest or food. It was as though the connection between the magic running through the forest and the magic within me was enough to sustain me. No, not just sustain me. It gave me power, it gave me purpose. I had become something in between a man and a beast – something I did not understand. But this was the power I needed, so I did not resist it.

Hours went by, and it didn’t matter. I remember the sensation of running through the forest. My legs knew exactly where to step. My body angled itself perfectly to avoid rocks and branches. What’s more, it seemed that the forest accommodated the wizard blazing through it. Winds blew leaves and vines from my path. Wildlife, even territorial ones, merely watched as I bolted through. Rocks and snow did not give way under my weight, and before I knew it I was at my destination. All that was left to do now was to wait. Crowley would be here, of that I could be sure. I had offered myself on a silver platter. A wide-open area in the middle of nowhere where help of any kind was hours away. To him, I was a mutated wizard – take away my toys and I couldn’t even light a candle. I was nothing but a helpless piece of meat, ripe for the picking. So, I sat on the snow. I crossed my legs and placed my short sword flat on my lap. I closed my eyes and began muttering a chant.

Tenzin and I had meditated like this during our time together. Memories and the pain of loss threatened to surface, but my power wouldn’t let them. It was like my connection with the forest had built a barrier – after all, it could not feel loss.

All it felt was anger, and yet, at the same time, peace — a bizarre solidity in between. It was awe-inducing and terrifying. It was a sensation that no human could grasp. Primal rage and inner peace amplified a thousand-fold to a level where a human would just go insane. Raw emotion that would break down even the strongest of minds.

And it all coursed through me.

Even in my trance, I heard the helicopter approaching. The chopper hovered on the opposite side of the field. White mist flew from the snow. A ladder dangled from the helicopter, and Crowley descended. His feet touched the snow, and he waved at the pilot.

He looked as sharp as usual. A silver-gray suit with a black, silk shirt, expensive Italian loafers and that ridiculous gray fedora he always wore. He didn’t wear his gloves this time – I suppose there was no real need to hide his gray-blue skin. He had a pair of aviators on and his usual smile. Even against the reflective white snow, his pearly white teeth were clearly visible. He walked away from underneath the chopper holding his hat in place with his hand. I got up and walked toward him, slowly. We both took our time, preparing ourselves for the confrontation to come. It was like a scene from a John Wayne movie.

“Is that your ride back home?” I asked. Crowley nodded. He pursed his lips and stretched them into a smile.

The forest felt the two intruders within it. Both men were evil. One was immune to magic, decaying it before it could reach him — he was treading the snow. I could even tell that he had lost some weight due to injuries. The other man was hovering in the chopper, but not out of reach. He was evil, too, to a different degree than the man below. His magic was also weaker in comparison to the other. The forest wanted to punish these two.

The winds picked up, assaulting the chopper. I sensed the pilot’s panic as he experienced a malfunction and his aircraft spiraled downward. It crashed against a nearby peak, exploding in a small ball of fire. Crowley let out a low whistle.

“In case the point wasn’t driven home,” I said as I assumed a fighting stance, “you’re not going back. This icy mountain will be your grave.”

Crowley removed his aviators. He calmly folded them and put them in his breast pocket in front of his folded handkerchief. “That’s an awful thing to say, little boy. You owe me a chopper, by the way.” He splayed his hands. I felt the magic around him wither and die as his area of affect extended further and further.

“Bill me,” I replied. A streak of energy shot at Crowley as I flicked Djinn upward. I slashed downward, sending a second streak on top of the first. Crowley’s eyes narrowed. The azure energy withered into nothing before it could as much as knock his hat off.

But it didn’t matter.

Djinn’s elongated blade dug into the snow, and I flicked it upward into his face. The snow was not affected by his magic, and he let out a string of curses as it went directly into his beady eyes. I lunged, stabbing an enhanced Djinn into his gut. Its magic dissipated on contact with Crowley, and the blade receded. But he couldn’t affect the sharpness of the original blade, and even as its magic decayed, it reverted back to its original size and went a good three inches into him. He bent forward and grabbed the blade. I balled my left fist and delivered an uppercut into his throat as I pulled the sword backwards. As my fist crushed his throat, he made a gurgling sound.

“That one’s for Gil,” I spat at him. My leg snapped into a low roundhouse kick. I heard his knee crack, and he dropped on it. I kept my momentum, raised my right hand and smashed the pommel of my sword against his jaw. I heard something crack. Best of all, the damn hat sailed away, revealing slicked-back, oily hair. He had bald spots and burned patches, courtesy of Tenzin.

“This one’s for my mom.” I kicked his face in. His head snapped backwards. It would have been a lethal blow, but he allowed himself to be thrown backwards, dissipating the force, and placing him a safe distance from me. I felt magic dying all around him.

He got to his feet. Parts of his body cracked as some form of healing took place.

“I wasn’t exactly tellin’ you the truth about my magic,” he said as we both panted. “I decay magic. But the question no one asks is ‘and then what’?”

“The hell are you talking about?” I said.

“It’s really simple.” More body parts healed, but he was still walking with a limp. “What you see around you ain’t true magic. Fire, ice, energy, glowing statues – these are all effects. By ‘decay’ I meant ‘strip away all the effects’ and return magic back to its original form. My teacher called it Prime. It’s the fuel of magic, you see, the unlimited potential. That’s what we abjurers do. We play around with the Prime and shape it like putty. And the thing is, everybody’s got Prime in ‘em. What you might call a Core or a Spark. It’s the same stuff. It’s what holds the universe together.”

He straightened up. “So, you see, I’m damn near invincible. Whatever you do, I can decay and absorb the Prime to heal. Face it, Erik,” he licked his lips. “You’re my bitch.”

“Absorb this.” I lunged. Crowley sidestepped, quickly for someone who was limping, and latched onto me.

“I intend to.”

I felt my body go numb, and my magic dying within me. My head spun.

“I intend to decay every last morsel of you and suck out all that Prime. You really have no idea just how much you have,” I heard Crowley snarl. “It’s wasted on you. Now, give it to me, it’s all mine.” My soul ripped apart as his magic killed mine and left a husk.

A voice reverberated inside my head, drowning out Crowley’s.

Power. More power
.

I felt my connection to the forest deepen, opening up a vast reservoir of magic. When I opened my eyes, it was as if someone had taken a picture of the red desert and the snowy mountain and overlaid them. Suddenly, I was torn between two worlds, and both were feeding me power. Not just any power, this was the nectar that Crowley wanted. Core magic, or Prime, flowed through me and darkness rose from me.

“What – what the hell is this?” Crowley relinquished his grip as his magic ceased working. He was just one man, after all. I was the forest. No, I was the world. That wasn’t it either. I was a vast universe of power, and I had one intention – destroy Crowley.

Tendrils of darkness stabbed through him and ripped away at him. It was not a physical attack — I attacked his magic, his Prime, turning it against him. And in that moment of agony, I felt connected to him. Not quite reading his mind or manipulating his personality, but it was like I could feel his doubt and rage. It was like I was piggybacking on his emotional process as he digested what he was experiencing.

I felt his fear when he faced Tenzin and Senju Kannon, soon followed by the pleasure he took in decaying that powerful magic.

I could feel his confusion and doubts at this very moment – there had never been a magic he couldn’t affect. He had sacrificed everything else to learn his obscure branch of abjuration. He gave it all up to become one with his magic so that no form of magic could harm him. I saw how his power had been enough to kill his master.

I saw his memories as if they were his. I felt that absolute belief in his power – the one that had saved his life countless times as he entered the magical drug trade and underground markets. It had always worked – so, what was different now?

I saw his mind go through hundreds of possibilities and finally settle to a logical conclusion. His magic was still the same, he realized. It was that he met a monster whose power was light-years ahead of his. A brat who held the power to reshape the world. Crowley’s insignificance couldn’t even begin to register against such power.

I’ll admit that I had completely lost control at that point. My reasoning, my consciousness, the parts that made me Erik were pushed into some dark corner.

Avenge Tenzin
.

Kill Crowley
.

Pay back for your suffering
.

Those were my thoughts. Memories of my life with Tenzin and Gil. Memories of peace and happiness.

“And this one,” I said. “This one is for Tenzin.”

I let my power extend to the sky, and thunderclouds gathered. Djinn glowed furiously. I brought it up and slashed down, cutting into nothing. But I felt it, the slash sliced between Yin and Yang, positive and negative, and generated energy between them. The energy manifested in electricity, bright white-blue bolts that raced toward the clouds.

More lightning arced across the sky.

I could not summon the dragon deva. Heck, I wasn’t even sure what ‘deva’ really meant.

But I could sure as hell recreate the effect of one.

Lightning gathered around me until my ears rang and my skin went numb. I held Djinn like a javelin, and threw it high into the clouds. Lightning followed it, surrounding the blade like a furious sun. My magic was still connected to it, guiding and shaping it. The lightning morphed into a Chinese dragon with Djinn guiding it at the tip of its snout. It roared and thunder rumbled, shaking the mountain. My magic controlled the trajectory of Djinn, and the lightning dragon.

It shot from the heavens, straight into the man cowering in the snow as he stood in awe, watching his demise descend from the sky. The dragon crashed into the abjurer and exploded. Light and heat exploded from it. The ice on the mountain’s peak fell and evaporated, exposing a large patch of rock amongst an otherwise all-white, snowy peak.

That last spell had done it for me. The magic, the super-powered energy that came from the forest and the weird red desert, dissipated into nothing. My knees buckled as the torrent of power left my body, leaving behind a profoundly damaged Erik. I could barely blink — even that hurt.

The ice mist settled down, revealing the aftermath of my spell. Crowley was impaled by Djinn. The short sword pinned him to the ground, and occasionally, a small bolt of electricity would spark from it. Ignoring the pains and aches of my body, I walked toward him.

A hole gaped where his chest should have been. The only parts left intact were his head, a foot and both hands. The rest was a disgusting mixture of black goo and ash. The pendant that Tenzin had given me hung from the sword’s circular hand guard. I had fastened it there tightly before my visit to the Ashendale manor. It was a miracle that little trinket had survived. Then again, it did contain some powerful magic, even if just a tiny fraction.