Jessica Andersen - Magic Unchained

No, he wasn’t. But he thought he could help them if they would just give him a chance. Man up, he told himself. Get this right. She deserves better than your usual best. Starting now.

Problem was, he saw only one way to tip the scales. And it was going to be a hell of a risk.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I know some of you are pretty pissed at me right now, at least a couple of you with good reason.” He sent a nod toward the two guys who’d been hurt in the fight; one looked startled, the other thoughtful. “And what I’m about to say probably isn’t going to win me any points from the rest of you… but are you out of your fucking minds?”

That got him a stirring of the crowd, a few scowls, and Cara’s low warning of, “Bad idea.”

Maybe it was. But it was the only one he had. “Look, I know you’re probably saying, ‘Who the hell does he think he is, talking to us like that?’ But that’s the thing—I don’t see winikin or magi; I never did. I see people. And as one person to a bunch of others, I’m asking whether you’re out of your fucking minds. We have a chance to do something good here, something special. Fuck, we’ve got the opportunity—hell, the mandate—to save the godsdamned world here, and you’re dicking around over semantics?”

“Semantics to you,” Sebastian called from the “no” side of the room, “freedom to us.”

“Newsflash: The winikin don’t have a monopoly on that one. Do you think I volunteered to be one of the last dozen or so survivors of a dying race, or to get slapped with a big old, ‘Hey, howdy, the world is going to end if you guys don’t pull off the impossible’?” He shook his head. “You want to think I had it easier than you, go ahead; at least some of you are probably right. But keep in mind that I’m just as bound by the magic as you are, probably more. And if you think about it, any one of you probably has a better chance of living past the end date than I do, because sure as shit the demons are going to come gunning for me first.”

An ache started in his chest as the adrenaline drained, and he notched the volume down to say, “Look, here’s the deal: The brain trust has found a resurrection spell they think will work, but it’s going to be big magic and a serious power drain. Which means two things: One, the second they start the spell, the Banol Kax are pretty much guaranteed to be coming after the spellcasters; and two, they’re not going to be able to spare more than a couple of magi for defense… the rest is going to be up to us.” He jabbed a thumb at his own chest, then to Cara, and then waved a hand to indicate the whole damn room.

There was a restless shift in the crowd, and somebody muttered, “Cannon fodder.”

“Not the way you mean,” he said. “It won’t be like it was during the massacre. First off, you’re not being forced to fight—this will be strictly voluntary. And second, you’ll have weapons of your own. Jade and Lucius hit on a spell they think they can tailor for you guys to use. It’s part shield, part weapon, and way cool. And you’ll get one if you vote to fight.”

“It’s not about fighting,” Sebastian countered. “We’re willing to fight, just not for a Nightkeeper and his girlfriend.”

Mac’s growl echoed the spike of Sven’s temper. “This is entirely about fighting, dumb ass. In three days, we need to be in Guatemala defending the hell out of Che’en Yaaxil, and as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter whether there’s a winikin, a Nightkeeper, a human, or, hell, a wombat in charge, as long as I have reason to believe they’re competent. Defending the barrier is what matters. That’s my duty. It’s your duty.” He pointed at Sebastian, then started pointing at the other winikin. “And yours, yours, and yours.” He ended with Carlos, said softly, “It’s your duty to fight. You can defend your charge, your family, your future… whatever it takes. We’re all in this together.”

He fell silent, glaring at them in challenge.

Cara stepped up beside him and took his hand. Said softly, “Seven.”

Nobody moved.

“Eight.”

Still nothing. Sven’s chest had a rock on it, making it hard to breathe.

“Nine.”

Carlos looked up to the ceiling, to the sky, and said softly, “Is this what you want? Truly?” Then, as if he’d gotten an answer from the slow thump of the overhead fan, he headed from “no” to “yes.”

And damned if the others didn’t follow him, trad and rebel alike. Cara’s fingers tightened on Sven’s hand, and he could feel her shaking as she whispered, “Ten.”

The “no” side was empty. Even Sebastian had gone over, and looked resigned to have done it. They had won the vote, and to a winikin a vote was tantamount to sacred. There was no turning back from here.

“Thank you,” Cara said, her voice cracking. She started to say something else, but then pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I don’t have the words, except to say that I’ve never in my life been prouder to be a winikin.”

Sven gave that a moment to settle in, then said, “I know it’s going to take some time for all this to sink in, but I’m afraid time is exactly what we don’t have. Lucius is going to meet us out at the ball court in twenty minutes with one of the new weapons, and we’ll start from there.”

With that, he drew Cara down off the riser and out the back door, not just because he was suddenly itching for open air but because he had a feeling she could use it too. She was pale and drawn, and rather than triumphant at her victory, she looked like she’d just been given a terminal diagnosis.

He had a feeling he’d looked something like that when he found out that the whole Nightkeeper thing was more than a bedtime story. It hit you like that when you suddenly had the weight of the world riding on your shoulders.

Once they were outside and away from the training hall, he angled them back around toward the cacao grove, where the leafy greens provided some privacy, albeit with the smell of the southlands, and the memories that provoked. He wasn’t worried about memories right now, though. He was worried about Cara.

“Come here.” He drew her into his arms, and his concern notched up when she latched on and clung, shuddering. “Hey,” he said into her hair. “You’re okay. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll be right here every step of the way.” His stomach jittered as he said it, but he ignored the discomfort, knowing there would be worse to come. “We can do this. You’re not alone, okay? I’ve got your back.”

“I know.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “I know. It’s just…” Pulling away, she looked up at him. “What if I’m fooling myself? What if all this is just as much a lie as Zane’s reality?”

“It’s not,” he said firmly, because she needed him to be firm right then.

“But what if it is?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His mock-stern growl got a ghost of a smile and another deep breath. Then she nodded. “Okay, you’re right. I know you’re right. It’s too late to turn back now.” She hesitated. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

“Hang on to this for me.” She pulled a folded card out of her jacket pocket and handed it over.

He unfolded it, read it, and whistled. “The aj winikin spell? You sure you don’t want to burn it?”

“Thanks, but no thanks. Keep it close, just in case Carlos is right and I’m wrong.” She shook her head and went back into his arms, this time burrowing softly against him and letting her breathing slow to match his.

He curled his arms around her and rocked them both, needing the contact as much as she did, maybe more.

September 21