The Witch's Thief Page 13

  “They are your brothers! How can you let her hurt them?”

  “Basil will try to stop me. I cannot allow that to happen.”

  She sighed. She wouldn’t get through the thick stone wall he had built around his heart, his sanity. He’d gone through too much to return to the sweet Drake Merriweather she knew in her youth.

  Knowing Drake couldn’t touch her while she stood in the circle, she turned back to where Basil and Sage battled the demon. They used any item on the tables or shelves as a weapon. Knives, daggers, books, candles, the table itself. Anything they might use to inflict pain.

  Nothing worked. She consumed any spells Basil cast instinctively and easily blocked any attempts at harming her physically. Each time Basil cast a spell, he bent over in pain, grasping at his arm.

  Julia could see clearly that Basil was weakening. His movements were sluggish. He wasn’t reacting as quickly.

  Even Drake took his attention away from her and focused on his brother. His fingers twitched a few times. Was he going to join the demon in her attack? Julia wondered if he no longer felt anything for his brothers. Did he want to watch them die?

  Despite what he told her about giving the demon orders, it did not appear that she planned to obey him. She attacked Basil and Sage, using her powers and skill at combat.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Drake spoke softly. His gaze had narrowed on Basil, studying him, analyzing his sluggish movements. His brow crinkled and his frown deepened. “Why is he losing his strength? She’s not feeding on his magic as she did to Sage. Why is he in so much pain?”

  Julia watched Basil, too. If what Drake said was true, and the demon wasn’t feeding off of Basil’s magic, then why was he so affected with each spell he cast?

  Her mind flashed back to his arrival through the mirror last night. The weakness, the way his hands shook, the feverish heat to his skin, the haunted pain-filled expression in his eyes when he begged her not to speak of his condition to his aunt. He had needed her help to stand. Then he needed her assistance to climb the stairs.

  He had lost his strength, reminding her vividly of Susanna’s state when it came time for Drake to carry her downstairs. Or when Julia would help her limp slowly to the window so she might look out upon the garden.

  It made perfect, horrible sense.

  “Oh, my Gods and Goddesses,” Julia whispered. “He suffers from Belit’s Curse.”

  ****

  He didn’t have much time. With every spell he cast, the pain in his hand crept further up his arm. It was sinking its vicious teeth into his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

  Oddly, the demon wasn’t feeding on his magic as she had done with Sage. Instead, the attack spells seemed to work if for only a moment. The demon stumbled back as he cast, giving Sage time to find another solid weapon to use. Left without his magic, Sage fell vulnerable to the demon’s power. She cast spells that Basil blocked with his magical defenses, but his ability to shield his brother was draining more of his energy.

  His illness drained him. The more magic he used, the weaker he became. For nearly ten years, he kept his casting to a minimum, only using spells when in dire need to do so, such as now. But in all these years, he’d never been faced with such a foe. He’d never had to use so much of his magic at one time.

  Sweat beaded upon his brow, soaking his hair to plaster it against his scalp. His heart pounded with fury in his chest, fighting to keep his body alive.

  How much longer until it reached his heart? How long could he sustain this level of magical use before the illness crippled him? Until his heart simply gave up?

  The pain was nearly unbearable. It spread quickly through his limbs. With every spell, his blood carried daggers of torture through his veins. He grunted, trying to suppress the agony, knowing that Julia and his brother needed him to keep them safe. They relied on him.

  He had to see them through this.

  But he knew his body could not take much more. It would not be long now…

  ****

  “Help him, Drake!”

  Instead, Drake had gone pale and slowly backed away, shaking his head back and forth. Julia turned back to watch helplessly as the man she loved weakened further still. What could she do? There must be some way to assist him.

  Basil used another attack spell that pushed the demon back a few steps. This time instead of focusing on him when he flinched from the pain, Julia watched the demon. And it appeared for a brief moment that the demon lost her focus. Flame rippled along the skin of her arms, licking her, tasting her, enveloping her.

  Sage threw another chair, but the demon tossed it away and grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. He screamed as fire lit a path from his arm to his back until his entire body was consumed.

  “Sage!” Basil roared, and threw another attack spell at the demon, who calmly allowed the bolt to sink into her flesh without even a glance in his direction. She was too busy focusing on his brother.

  The fire continued to lick Sage’s body. Surprisingly, it didn’t seem to burn. He screamed in agony, but no sign appeared of any damage being done to his skin. The flames simply sat on him, as they did on her.

  Fire!

  Julia gasped as an idea formed.

  The demon controlled fire, was born of flame. Perhaps Julia might help them after all.

  She held her breath, judging the distance between her weapon of choice and the demon. As Basil maneuvered the demon closer, Julia broke the circle of protection and leapt toward the cauldron resting over the fire. She didn’t even check the contents. She used her magic, casting a spell of strength to help her lift the cauldron, heaving the heavy iron pot. A spurt of energy shot through her veins, pumping the muscles in her arms with the ability to cast the spell and throw the contents of the cauldron onto the demon’s head.

  The demon screamed and released Sage, who fell away, slamming into a shelf and knocking everything down. The loud clatter and crash of the contents did nothing to smother the sound of the demon’s scream.

  The water doused the fire and steam rose high from her skin, her arms and head. Her hair melted away, leaving behind clumps of dark strands and mottled skin. She screamed as she stared at her arms, scratching and swiping at the water that coated her, burning her.

  Julia backed away, shocked by the horror unfolding. The demon’s screams pierced through her, sounding so very human that for a moment Julia was horrified by what she had done. She stared as the demon’s flesh peeled away, exposing stark white bone.

  The demon lifted its gaze and found the source of its pain. It reached for Julia, running towards her. An inhuman roar escaped its lips.

  “No, Julia!” She heard Basil’s warning cry, but she was unable to move, frozen in horror.

  Sage’s fire-filled form appeared, blocking her path. He struck the demon with a fist of flame, and knocked her back against the opposite wall. More crashing occurred as glass containers shattered, splashing liquid along the floor. As Sage took a menacing step forward, his foot contacted the liquid. Flames grew, blossomed from the liquid, and soon the walls were all aglow.

  “Julia!” Basil’s voice pierced through the roar of fire, the heat of which warmed her skin.

  He grabbed her arm and gathered her into his embrace. She clutched at him, holding him tightly, but she couldn’t break her gaze from Sage as he continued to burn like a human candle.

  “We must leave. Everything’s on fire.”

  Basil’s words rumbled low, and she nodded her agreement, wiping her tears against the fabric of his shirt as she buried her face into his chest.

  And then he pulled her away, forcing her to look away from Sage and the demon. Drake was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he fled or was making an attempt to rescue his demon minion. He could be beyond where Sage stood, blocking her view.

  It did not matter. She allowed Basil to drag her across the room to the mirror.

  “Open the portal, Julia!”

  She nodded, numbly. Simply obeying
his command, she summoned the spell for the mirror portal to appear. The glass wavered, shaking into what looked like a liquid form. Turning back, Basil gently lifted Marianne’s body from the table and carried her to the mirror.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “We’re right behind you.”

  She nodded, but paused watching as Basil glanced behind to Sage, who stared at the cowering demon.

  “Sage! We’re leaving!” Basil shouted, his voice quiet in the sudden noise of the room.

  But Sage heard his brother’s call.

  The flames that surrounded Sage softened and slowed. They shrank into his skin until an orange glow emanated from his skin, and soon that faded. Sage stood, his clothes and hair smoking just as he had when Julia found him. But, there were no burn marks, no sign of any harm done.

  All except what was hidden in his eyes.

  He looked at the demon, taking slow measured steps backward toward the mirror until he stopped at one of the tables. Seeing his family’s grimoires, he grabbed them and turned toward the mirror. Knowing that he would follow, she turned to face the mirror and stepped into it.

  Chapter Ten

  Julia collapsed on the other side of the mirror. Her legs finally succumbed to the trembling that plagued them since the moment she entered Blackmoor. She took in huge lungfuls, realizing the air she had been breathing had become smoky and difficult to inhale. She turned back to watch Basil and Sage appear behind her. Once they were both safely across, Julia spoke the words to seal the mirror, so no one else might pass through. For good measure, as soon as Sage came through he tossed the books to the floor, lifted the mirror, turned it around and placed it against the wall so if Drake attempted to open the portal, he couldn’t see in or cross into it.

  Basil stumbled toward the bed, gently laying Marianne’s body on the soft mattress.

  “Ah! You’ve found me!” Marianne cried. It was good to hear her sister’s voice. Marianne hovered over her body and fell on top of it, crying in relief.

  Basil turned, not seeing the ghostly image of Marianne, and staggered until he fell to his knees beside Julia. With one hand under her chin, he lifted her face until he could see her clearly. He looked her over, searching for any sign of damage.

  “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good,” he said, and his eyelashes fluttered. He took several deep breaths. Slowly, he dropped onto the floor, resting his back flat against the carpet. He exhaled deeply, sighing in what sounded like relief to be home and safe.

  Julia sighed, too. They had made it back alive and relatively unharmed. And with two out of three of the Merriweather spellbooks. Sage had grabbed them just before coming through the mirror. He set them on the floor and then collapsed into a chair. His head leaned back, and he closed his eyes.

  She took Basil’s hand in hers and squeezed, rubbing her thumbs in circles along the back. She lifted his hand, pushing the cuffs of his shirtsleeves away from his wrists to inspect the damage done. The manacles had bit into his flesh, tearing into the skin to produce two sets of bloody welts around his wrist.

  “This must hurt terribly,” she said softly. “We must clean and bandage them.”

  Basil didn’t respond, although she hadn’t expected him to. He was clearly exhausted and in need of rest. They all were.

  But, something about the way Basil laid on the floor, some stillness that she found odd, made her look more closely. She leaned forward, brushing his hair away from his face. He had a peaceful expression on his face, one she had not seen since their younger days. As if all of the tension had finally left him, and he was filled with comfort. It was strikingly at odds with how he looked when he first settled onto the floor.

  “We should get you into a bed. The floor cannot be comfortable,” she said, thinking about her suspicions. Belit’s Curse was so rare. Could it be possible that two witches in her lifetime would be stricken?

  He didn’t respond. Not even a grunt of acknowledgement.

  “Basil?”

  Had he fallen asleep so quickly? She could not imagine how exhausted and drained he must feel.

  Still he did not respond. She shook his shoulder, trying to wake him.

  “Basil?”

  A growing sense of unease grew in the pit of her stomach. Something was not as it should be. Why wasn’t he waking? Had Drake or the demon bespelled him just as they were crossing the portal?

  “Basil?”

  Sage sat up, alerted by the sound of panic in her voice. With one glance at his brother, he shoved away from the chair and slid to Basil’s side on the floor.

  “He’s not waking!” Julia said as Sage knelt, putting his head on Basil’s chest, listening. He sat back up, his head jerking as if someone had slapped him.

  “He’s not breathing.”

  Julia’s vision began to swim. She felt light-headed and nauseous.

  “What do you mean he’s not breathing?” Marianne leapt from her position on the bed. “How can he not be breathing? What happened over there?”

  But Sage didn’t answer. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, lifting him, shaking him as if to wake him from his deep slumber. Basil’s head lolled forward and back, lifeless.

  Lifeless.

  Julia’s chest tightened so much she couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, she watched helplessly while Sage attempted to revive his brother.

  “Give me your hand,” Sage said, grabbing her hand before she had chance to comprehend his meaning. “Marianne, you, too. Give me your hand.”

  “But, my magic no longer works,” she protested.

  “Marianne!”

  “Yes,” she said, scrambling to the floor and placing her hand on Basil’s chest.

  “Concentrate, all of you!” Sage ordered. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his lips moving in silence as he muttered a spell. Julia attempted to calm the panicked screams she heard in her mind and focused on the healing magic Sage was preparing.

  A tingling sensation began along where his palm touched her hand until the heat became unbearable.

  “Ow, Sage, you’re burning me!” Julia said, her eyes snapping open. Sage broke contact, pulling his hand away, his brows furrowed in confusion.

  Basil remained unmoving on the floor.

  Sage leaned down to listen again at his brother’s chest. When he leaned back, he lifted Basil with him. Julia whimpered when Sage slapped him across the face.

  “Wake up!” Sage shouted, slapping him again, clearly becoming panicked. “Damn you! Open your eyes!”

  A gurgle sounded from Basil’s throat. He breathed again, but struggled for consciousness. Sage let out a cry of relief or helplessness, she wasn’t certain.

  Julia jumped from the floor, and ran to retrieve the smelling salts she kept in the cabinet in her room. She ran them under Basil’s nose, hoping this would snap him out of it.

  His head jerked away, but his eyelids fluttered open.

  Sage sighed, obviously relieved at Julia’s quick thinking. He stood, dragging Basil to his feet.

  “Come on,” he said, shouting into Basil’s ear. “Wake up. That’s it.”

  Basil stumbled on his feet, clinging to Sage’s shoulder as if his legs had turned to pudding. His head remained upright and his opened eyes blinked in confusion.

  Her heart began to beat again. She rubbed the sore spot on her chest, hoping the ache would fade now that Basil again breathed.

  “What happened?” Basil asked, his voice groggy as if he just woke from a full night of deep sleeping.

  “You stopped breathing,” Sage explained grimly.

  Basil groaned, squeezed his eyes closed and put a hand to his forehead. “It’s happening…”

  “We’ll fight it,” Sage said, matter-of-factly. “Come, let’s get you to your room.”

  “What’s happening?” Julia asked. She ran to the other side of Basil, letting him wrap his arm around her shoulders to help Sage carry him to his room. Basil tried to walk, but it was as if
his legs couldn’t support his own weight.

  She observed neither answered her query. She decided not to pursue her questioning until they arrived at Basil’s bedchamber where he collapsed onto the soft mattress. She suspected she knew the truth, but she could not bring herself to speak the words. She’d seen what had happened to Susanna. This looked dreadfully similar. Could she bear it if the same happened to Basil?

  “What’s happening?” she demanded, watching Sage remove Basil’s boots and swing his legs onto the bed.

  “Julia,” Basil moaned in distress and grief. The sound pierced her heart. She stepped forward.

  “Julia,” Sage said, turning to face her. The seriousness displayed on his face stilled her movements. It was unlike Sage to look so solemn. “Will you fetch some hot water and bandages? We must see to his wounds.”

  Her gaze flashed to Basil’s wrists, which were raw and bleeding, then back to Sage’s cautious eyes. He expected her to resist, but Basil’s wounds needed attention. She nodded. She needed a moment alone to cope with the knowledge of why he must be suffering. There would be time for explanations when she returned.

  ****

  Basil watched Julia leave the room and bit back the sound of her name on his lips. He wanted to call her back. He wanted to keep her close. Now that the end was near, he wanted her at his side for every moment available to them.

  But he let her go. She would hurry and return, and then he would explain the truth.

  He groaned and looked away from the door. The thought of telling Julia that he was dying sent a chill through him. He closed his eyes, trying to block the image of hurt he would see on her face. But, it didn’t go away, only becoming more clear with each passing second.

  “You must tell her now,” Sage said grimly, as he undid the buttons on Basil’s shirt, helping him divest it. With tender movements, Sage gently removed the stained fabric from his arms, being careful to not hurt him too badly. Basil clenched his jaw, not making a sound although the area around his wrists burned and throbbed as if they were alit with flame.

  “I can’t.” Basil choked the words out. The pain from using his magic lingered still. His wrists throbbed. His arms ached. His lungs burned with each breath. And despite his earlier resolve to tell her the truth, to marry her and love her for the rest of his very short life, his courage left him. His end had finally come. How could he bear to see the grief in her eyes? He would carry that vision with him to his grave. But he’d rather his last memories of her be filled with happiness, smiles and laughter. “Take me away from here, Sage. To London.”