“I hope so. Not gonna lie, that was one hell of an illusion. I’ve been sitting in a jail cell for weeks that was really a cellar I could have navigated blind when I was a kid.” He glances around again. “It was so good I almost thought she’d rebuilt it.”
I stand beside him and squeeze his hand. “I can’t imagine what you’re feeling.”
“Sure you can. I feel nothing, Atlas. Nothing at all. I have some unpleasant business to deal with, and I will. Then I’ll find any feelings I still have after it’s done.”
I nod, understanding why his defenses are up. “Just remember, you can feel anything you need to with me.”
His gaze softens briefly. “I know.” He looks at the ceiling abruptly. “Brace yourself. Someone orsomethingis approaching.”
“Atlas!”
We both swing around at the sound of Drax’s voice and hurry to the front door, or rather the massive hole in the wall where a door once was. And it’s not just Drax. The whole crew is there, plus about a dozen other beings. I recognize a few of the witches I saw before as well as the gargoyles who directed me earlier. I can’t sense the other beings through this shield, but I know one thing—it’s a big-ass supernatural army.
“We brought back up,” Mac says, grinning.
Even Rune smiles. “This is amazing.”
A woman steps forward and I recognize her as the “Madam” who gave me the sleeping potion before. “I have an idea.”
Rune straightens his shoulders, his expression slightly awed. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a great deal of magic pressed against this shield, trying to break through. I assume it’s you?”
“I would assume,” Rune answers.
“I’m likely the most powerful magic user in this group. I suggest you and I focus on a connection between us, while everyone else forms a circle, harnessing any magic we produce. The gargoyles on my side will push in, your gargoyle pushes out. The demons are here to catch any rogue entities that escape, and everyone else will help support us.”
Rune nods. “Sounds good.”
She focuses on Rune with her eerie gray eyes. “It could be dangerous. We could be hurt. I’ve never felt anything like this before.”
“It’s Delaport ancestral magic.”
Her jaw drops. “How… Who?”
“My sister.”
“You’re a Delaport? I thought the family was wiped out.”
“So did I. Anyone who could be a threat, anyway,” he mutters darkly, glancing at me, then back at the witch. “Ignatius Delaport.”
“Gods,” she whispers. “The rumors are true, then.”
“There are rumors about me?” he asks dryly.
“Suspicions perhaps is a better word. There have been whispers over the years that there was a magic user as deadly and powerful as the Delaports but he avoided detection.”
“By design, for obvious reasons,” Rune says.
She nods. “Well, I am even more confident now that we’ll be successful. Shall we begin?”
Rune cracks his knuckles. “I’m ready.”
Madam looks over her shoulder at the group gathered behind her. “Prepare yourselves.”
RUNE
I don’t knowwho this Madam is or how our paths haven’t crossed before, but I’ll take the assist. Her magic radiates around her in a mixture of colors; rare indeed. A mixture usually indicates her magic is naturally both good and bad, entirely based on her intention.
