A hulking shadow rises up above the crowd.
The malum.
“What is that?” The guard holding my arm is frozen in fear.
There’s more screaming, and people are running toward us. They crash into one another. Bodies strike the floor. A stampede in ball gowns and tuxedos.
I don’t have time to be scared. Everything is happening so quickly.
The malum is larger than I recall. It’s a whole head taller than everyone in the room. The guards forget about us. They turn to face the shadow. Warden Stone stands with us, inert with shock. Then the party devolves into pandemonium, people running in every direction.
Warden Stone comes to his senses and charges the malum. Hesummons a spell, gathering the power in his hands, and throws it at the shadow. The creature howls as the spell splashes over it.
I grab Raven’s hand and run.
We dodge blasts of explosive energy. They whiz past our heads like wasps. It’s a room full of magicians. All eyes focus on the malum. No one is looking at us anymore.
Hecate’s wand is still in its protective case. I grab a napkin from a table, wrap my fist in it, and punch the glass. Raven flinches, and the glass fractures like a spiderweb. I hit it again, and this time it shatters. All around us people scream and scurry toward the exits. Magic fills the air, and the malum’s roars never cease.
Wand in hand, I run. At the exit, hundreds of people clog the narrow doors. Everyone is trying to escape. We can’t get through.
A voice cuts through the noise. “Raven!”
We whip around to see Aspen standing behind a painting that’s swung outward on hidden hinges. He waves us over frantically, and we have no choice but to follow.
36
Raven
But we are strong, each in our purpose; and we are all more strong together.
—Bram Stoker,Dracula
“Aspen?” I ask.
From the shadow of the tunnel behind the painting, the archivist holds out his hand to us. “Come on!” he shouts.
Can I trust him? What if Atticus’s theory about St. Ad’s was right?
But a fireball rockets past my shoulder, making the choice for me.
I take his hand and Dorian follows quickly. Aspen seals the wall behind us, and we’re plunged into darkness. The commotion outside is muffled, but still audible. Warden Stone’s voice rings out above the roar of the crowd, and the boom of an explosive spell rattles the floor.
My hands are shaking. Dorian’s arm brushes mine, and I grab on to him for support.
In his hand, he holds the wand.
Aspen summons a handful of light in his palm, illuminating the corridor. We’re in one of the hidden tunnels leading underground.
“The malum,” Dorian says, breathless. “It’s the same one, right? There aren’t two?”
“I don’t think so,” I say.
“Are you two hurt?” Aspen asks.
“No.” Though my heart is pounding so hard, it aches.
“Is that what Professor White is controlling?” Aspen asks. The battle still rages on the other side of the painting. Whatever they’re doing, the security guards aren’t able to slow it down.
