Jessica Andersen - Spellfire

Thoughts racing, Rabbit said, “Are you—” His chrono beeped, interrupting. It read: 00:00:00. The magic of the Great Conjunction was online.

Throom! A pillar of dark magic burst from the sacred well and speared up into the sky just as a huge bolt of lightning cracked down, bringing a matching pillar of sunlight and rainbows. The light and dark magic whoomed together in the middle, and the earth plane shuddered. Dark shapes poured up out of the Cenote Sagrada and bright, brilliant forms plummeted down from the hole in the sky, chilling Rabbit’s blood and making his instincts hiss enemy. But at the same time, mad joy sang in his veins. He had been bred for this, born for it.

“They’re coming,” Myr said, and clung into him for a moment before she pushed away. “It’s time.” She looked up at him, face etched with determination. “I love you. And when we get out of here, I’m buying the first round tonight.”

He kissed her hard and fast. “I love you back. And I’ve got the second round for the whole damn army.”

Suddenly, from behind him, a whole lot of voices all said at once, “Son of the boar bloodline. We are your army.”

“What the fuck?” He spun. And his jaw hit the deck at the sight of a hundred or so Xerox copies of the boar nahwal, standing rank and file, staring at him with their creepy black eyes. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Okay, dumb question. But he was in shock here. And when Myr grabbed his arm hard enough to cut off circulation, he knew he wasn’t the only one.

The nahwal said, in a hair-raising chorus, “You called us from the barrier, helped us cross over from un-death to the earth. While we are here, we have your powers, your magic. Command us.”

Cross over. Crossover. Rabbit froze in place, because oh, holy shit, this was it. This was the fighting force the Nightkeepers had needed all along, the numbers they lacked.

“Look!” Myr said, pointing at a cloud of winged shadows that were leaving the ground and flying up into the air. At first he thought it was the animal familiars of the winikin, but these were all the same size, huge and winged, and for all the world resembling—

“Holy fuck, it’s Blackhawk.” Or, rather, it was a hundred Nates, all in his hawk-shifter form, blazing up into the sky to challenge the kohan as they flew out of the rainbow.

Off to the other side, silver bolts flared from the ground, launching up into the sky to slam into kohan and kax alike, as Michael and his nahwal soldiers attacked the enemy. Jade and her nahwal threw ice magic; Sasha’s battalion commanded plants that reared up, grabbed at the kax and dragged them back down; and suddenly there were teleporting nahwal everywhere, zapping in under Strike and Anna’s orders to throw vicious fireballs and then disappear before the enemy could launch a counterattack.

The fire and ice were failing, though. “Their shields are too strong!” Myr cried.

Rabbit grinned viciously. “Not for long, they aren’t.”

Forking his fingers, he called on the golden magic. And, using what he’d learned from the kohan back at Coatepec, he brought down the enemy shields.

Screeches and screams rang out over the battlefield as the kax and kohan found themselves suddenly vulnerable, followed by the Nightkeepers’ cheers as they regrouped and attacked.

Fierce joy exploded through Rabbit and he shouted to his nahwal. “Let’s fight these fuckers!” At the edge of the cenote a huge, smoky makol was climbing up and out. Behind it there were two more, four, a dozen. Rabbit pointed and bellowed, “Get them!”

His battalion shouted and charged.

The next few minutes were a blur of shields and fire as the boar army tore into the makol. Green flames burst amid the red as Rabbit and Myr fought shoulder to shoulder, back to back, however and wherever they could. The magic flowed between them, solidly intertwined, giving him an extra kick of power, an extra layer of fierce protectiveness at the sheer joy of her being his partner. His mate.

They were going to make it through this war, he promised himself. And they were going to make for themselves the kind of family neither of them had grown up with.

A makol attacked, then spun and screeched in triumph as a translucent, fiery red creature reared up and over him, swiping with its six-clawed paw and turning solid in the last second before it hit.

“Down!” he shouted, and he and Myr pancaked as the boluntiku’s slash whistled over their heads. Rabbit came up as the ’tiku reversed for the backswing, and blasted the back of its head with a golden fireball that clung like napalm, eating into the creature. It screeched and fell back into the cenote, leaving the area around the altar momentarily clear.

Now, said the booming voice inside Rabbit. It is time.

“Dez!” Rabbit shouted. “The spell!”

The king looked at him for a heartbeat, then nodded. He leaped to the top of the temple, filled his lungs and bellowed, “Everyone get under a big-ass shield and link up! And I mean everyone! Pass it on!”

There was a mad scramble, a huge flare of shield magic, and the frustrated fingernail-on-blackboard screams of new kax and boluntiku erupting from the sacred well, new winged gods dropping down from the sky. The enemy lashed at the shield with flames, claws and acid, but the shield held, by the gods, it held!

Beneath it, the Nightkeepers, winikin, human and nahwal all cut their palms and connected with each other, blood to blood. Rabbit found himself linked to Myr on one side and one of his own nahwal on the other side, and felt the uplink gain strength as more and more links were added. Boars, jaguars, eagles, iguanas, smokes, stones, harvesters . . . the powers of the different bloodlines flowed through the uplink. And as the magic passed into them, Rabbit and Myrinne smoothed it into a single flowing stream of power, blended and wonderful.

“Ready?” Dez called to him.

Rabbit took a look around to confirm.

A nahwal caught his attention; it was staring at him intently. More, it was distinguished from the others by the wink of a ruby earring in one ear. Jag. The former king nodded to him, man to man, and sudden certainty filled Rabbit. This was how it was supposed to have been. This was what Scarred-Jaguar had been destined to do, only he’d tried to do it thirty years too early, and without the help of the crossover and his earth-mage mate.

Now, though, things would be as the true gods had meant them to be.

“Yeah,” he said, tightening his grip on Myr’s hand. “We’re ready.”

They sent the spell words around the blood-link, so the entire Nightkeeper army, more than a thousand strong, spoke in synchrony, like the biggest, baddest nahwal ever made.

As they began the spell, two earth-shuddering roars rose up in response—one from above and one from below—and the fabric of the air around them shivered and started to tear.

Hurry! Myr’s mind spoke in Rabbit’s head, in his heart, but the spell was complicated, couldn’t be rushed. He kept going as a huge winged creature, black as night, came up from the depths while another, identical but pure white, dropped down from above. They were enormous, monstrous, and power crackled around them like storms. They landed together, thud-thud, on the Nightkeepers’ shield and started tearing at the magic with teeth that glinted like diamonds. The shield gave and made a wretched crackling noise.

Behind the creatures, though, the pillar of dark and light magic shuddered and began to rotate, moved by Rabbit’s spell.

“It’s working!” he ordered. “Give it more power!” They had finished the incantation, but the momentum was slow, the barrier frail. The Nightkeepers and their allies dug deep and gave it everything they had, and as the power amped its flow through the uplink, the pillar spun faster and faster. “More!” he shouted and then, through the uplink itself, he sent into their minds, Think of your mates, your children, your families. It went against the writs but he didn’t give a shit. Not when he’d learned firsthand that love was everything. Let your magic flow. It doesn’t matter what talent, big or small, just send it to me and Myr and we’ll make it come together.