Emma Holloway - A Study in Ashes

Part of Evelina was aware that this was a problem, that she needed to get to cover so Holmes could use his rifle and protect them both. But the rest of her was still drunk with magic. The guardsmen were nothing; she’d already proven that. She swept her arm, using the ambient power to knock their pursuers flat to the ground. With an oath, Holmes grabbed her by the scruff and dragged her away before the men got up again. Shots whizzed past them, and Holmes turned to fire, but she barely noticed, because the magic of the others had entranced her again.

Evelina flickered in and out of awareness, feeling her feet run and her hands dig into the cold earth as she scrambled across the ruins and up the hill—but her consciousness strained to join the spell. They’re raising the devas. I need to help them . She wondered what the spirits in these parts would do. Folk magic depended on the devas agreeing to help, but the moors might not be easy to convince.

Whenever she lagged, her uncle pushed her on. Holmes wouldn’t let her rest until they’d reached the cairn at the top of the hill. She knew he’d chosen it as a good place to shoot from, but she could feel the ancient power radiating from the stones. It had been a place of worship for the first men who walked these lands, and old magic clung to it still. Holmes shoved her down and she went to her hands and knees, her awareness digging deep into the roots of the rock.

Below, she could see a few dozen devas had answered the call and were flickering over the laboratory buildings. The guards milled about in confusion, unable to pursue Evelina and Holmes, and unable to tell that it was a cloud of tiny spirits that turned them back every time they tried. But that wasn’t enough to cleanse the labs from the face of the earth.

And then Evelina understood why they needed the dark magic—and it wasn’t just so she could reconnoiter the cells. Dark magic led to death magic, and right then they needed the power of the dead. She dove deep into the land, calling for the presence of those first men who had left behind the cairns and barrows, the stone circles, and the huts that dotted the untamed land. Energy lingered there like the notes of half-remembered song, more a mood than a memory, but her summons roused it from sleep.

And it came, rising like a gray cloud in her mind’s eye, sinuous as mist. It was made of voices too far away to hear clearly, snatches of firelight and stories no one recalled. It was what was left of the daily hopes and fears of vanished people. The fog of memory clung close to the land and roiled down the webwork of magic, beyond the gunpowder mill and the guards in the yard to surround the building like a smothering cloak. Evelina rose to her knees to see it shimmering silver in the moonlight, hiding the atrocities in the laboratory like a sheet thrown over one of its victims.

And then her power flexed, a visceral twist of anger, and the cloak squeezed. The other magic users, their power linked to hers by the web, moved with her like the fingers of a giant fist.

The building split with a huge cracking noise, as if a giant egg had smashed. Whatever spells had been guarding it—the magic wrung out of those practitioners too frightened to fight—gave way like wet paper. And then the devas rushed into the breach. In the space between one breath and the next, flames erupted from the roof.

A frantic lowing of cows rose up, but the barn was too far away to catch fire. The living humans—those who could run—fled. Or tried to. The devas of the moors, working by a code only they understood, only let every third man free of the flames. The pitiable creatures in the cells perished, their lives no more than sparks in an updraft, too spent to even stir Evelina’s hunger.

Except one. Evelina gasped as something bounded from the flames. It ran on all fours and was larger than a calf, but it moved with the easy glide of a hunter. Was that the creature behind the door? Its eyes flashed red in the firelight, throwing sparks into the blackness. It was only visible for an instant, an outline against the flames, and then the magic twisted again. The creature disappeared from view, as if somehow the dark spirits of the moor had swallowed it whole. Evelina shook her head, trying to clear it. Whether the devas had caught the creature or it had escaped was impossible to tell, and Evelina was too exhausted to pursue it right then.

Lying atop the cairn, Holmes watched it all without twitching a muscle. Evelina studied his face. There was much in the spirit realm that he couldn’t see, but the resulting destruction was plain. And apparently fascinating. He was watching, cataloguing, and filing away every detail, barely taking time out to breathe.

He dealt in fact, not magic. He’d done his job protecting her, and no doubt he’d helped destroy the laboratories because they contravened his sense of justice. For him, the adventure was—if not simple—at least plain in its objectives and result.

Not so for her. She shifted her gaze from her uncle to the wreckage below. She’d felt the wrench that had cracked the building. Her power still rang with it like a vibrating bell, thrilling her with victory and whispering of what chaos might come next. More. This is only a taste .

The thought appalled her, and she couldn’t watch another moment. Evelina got to her feet in silence, not wanting to disturb the mesmerized Holmes. She needed to turn away, to put some distance between herself and the destruction she had wrought. She needed control.

“We must locate Madam Thalassa,” Holmes said.

Evelina could feel the woman’s magic, as bright as her own was dark. “I know exactly where she is.”

“She will take you to a safe place. It’s been arranged. When the search for you has died down, I will come fetch you.” He started to rise.

“In a minute,” she said quickly. “Let me rest.”

He subsided, returning his attention to the scene below. She will take me to a safe place? Evelina wasn’t sure there was such a thing. Not until it was possible to run away from herself.

I shot a man. And then I ate him . The notion made her insides swirl dangerously, and she desperately wanted the solace of darkness and open air. She walked a little distance across the stony top of the hill, and then a little more—away from every other presence. It was too dark to go far, but the moon above and the glow of the fire reduced the chances of breaking her neck. She could still see Holmes, the white of his shirt a smudge where he lay. Then she began reeling in her senses, shutting off the connection between herself and the magic, herself and the earth, herself and anything beyond the privacy of her own mind. Evelina wiped her brow on her sleeve, the solitude making her feel a tiny bit better.

I am in control . She repeated it to herself a dozen times, blocking even the rustle of the nighttime insects from her perception. It felt good, like pulling the covers over her head and falling into a deep sleep. The vibrating inside her stopped, the excitement unwinding like a spring slowly robbed of tension. She loosened her bracelets, dusting away the remains of the salt. It was spent now, though her skin was raw where it had touched her.

But then something stirred behind her, just loud enough that it broke through her shield. A sour-smelling hand clamped over her mouth and a knife pricked against her throat, tickling her just below the ear. “Well done, kitten.”

She knew the voice all too well. Rage seared white hot, making her struggle until the knife dug in, pricking through skin.

“Oh no, you don’t,” whispered Magnus. “If you ever had any doubt that you were mine, just think about this night’s work. I felt you leave your hiding place like a ripple on a pond, but I would have had to be deaf and blind to miss you here.”