“This isn’t like any security I’ve seen before—not even in Society quarantines,” Iggy replies, and looks at me. Everyone looks at him and he shrugs. “They occasionally tap university professors to look at things they’ve found or taken off someone. I’ve only done it once or twice and it wasn’t anything this intricate.”
Anton finally breaks the silence by saying, “We should try the next layer, so we can report back to the others.”
Jasper nods. “If you collapse, I’m not dragging you back to the dorms. Salem is in charge of that, and Zav will help with transport, as will Gemini.”
“Duly noted.” The serious demon steps into the place where Iggy was a moment ago, cautiously looking at the dark strand of magic. “Angelo, I believe that you and Jasper may need to add some of your… power into the mix. I can handle controlling the magic, but your back-up energy will give me more thrust.”
The two leaders nod, and I scoot out of the way as the Prince of Hell comes to stand in my place. Jasper looks at Anton and the peacock hybrid starts chanting in what I’m pretty sure is the demonic language. I have no idea what it means, or what spell he’s using, and when I look at Iggy, he’s perplexed as well. Even Liam looks out of the loop as he stands with Salem and Zavida at the back of the group.
Within a few moments, a rush of light and the scent of seawater pushes Angelo across the floor and the prince back a few inches. Jasper blinks in surprise, turning to Anton. “What thefuckwas that?”
“I don’t… know…” the demon pants as his rainbow magic works to untangle the dark blue thread wound alongside the demonic black one. “This isn’t something I’ve ever felt before.”
But itissomething I’ve felt before—I don’t know which one, but I can smell it in the blast that rocked the demons.
My hands are already shaking as I murmur, “It’s… Remember when I said Atlantis is full of other realm folks, including demigods?”
“Yes,” Jasper says suspiciously. “What of it?”
“This is theirs. Their magic is a blend of the species who choose to live below the waves. It combined long ago—or that’s what my mom said. Who knows if she’s full of shit, though.”
“Get in there and help Slade. Maybe if you’ve been there, it will recognize you?” Iggy rubs the back of his neck, looking as if he’s just throwing darts at a board now.
“I’ll try,” I murmur as I move forward to flatten my palms against the door. Letting my voice out, I try to keep it soft enough to not entrance the others. The wood vibrates under my touch, and the ward hums. The feel of it is distinctly Atlantean, all wet and full of regret as it responds to me.
This ward hates me because there’s a history between the Finns and some of the Atlantean residents—I guess Iggy was right about being a bit sentient.
I lean into the wood and try again. “Remember me?” I whisper. “I actually loved visiting your home as a kid. I can’t help that my parents are assholes, you know.”
The ancient magic strains toward me as if it’s going to bite me. Pulling back a little, I frown at it. “Being a dick won’t fix the past. You don’t even belong here. Someone is using you.”
My song starts again, and Angelo moves away carefully. Iggy moves in behind me, bracing with his hands hovering an inch from my back, ready to catch me if I fall. I twist the chord of my magic, turning it from a song into a snarl, and the ward shudders, cracks, and folds in on itself.
Hell yeah. Eat shit, petty Atlantis-based magic. You lose.
Kaspar clears his throat, “You’d better be okay, guppy. The woman will be quite pissy if I have to haul you back. She’s got one down as it is.”
I chuckle, moving back from the door with a tired sigh. “It isn’t quite open yet, so no dice, Kas. There’s the demon strand left, so I’m gonna rest while Anton and the others handle it.”
Ceding to Anton, I scoot away from the wood to sit next to Iggy. My eyes follow the quiet demon as he cracks his knuckles and murmurs a string of demonic words that I definitely can’t understand. His words slip through the gap and expand, ballooning until the door actually bows inward.
There is a click, and the door finally swings open with a mechanical sigh.
We all stare into the dark for a moment, shocked that it’s no longer closed.
Salem, emboldened by the prospect of mischief, is the first to speak. “Damn, guys! You beat that fucker’s ass! Let’s get in there and find out what the hell it’s hiding.”
I push to my feet, nodding in agreement. “Good idea.”
Iggy glances at me, his expression suspicious as he looks into the dark room. “If you die, can I have your guitar?”
“Which one?” I ask as I step into the studio. He frowns at me, rolling his eyes when I don’t protest at his joke.
“Follow the Prince and I,” Kaspar says as he pushes off the wall. “We’re the most indestructible.”
Jasper nods. “Unfortunately, he’s right.”
Everyone falls into a line and we head into the studio together. Inside, the air is thick with magic and the musk of a thousand nights spent writing songs. There’s a battered desk, half-devoured by candles and loose sheet music. Instruments line the far wall, most in varying states of use.
