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He laughs, clapping his hands together. His magic is astounding. All four sources weave together in a swirling, multi-colored cyclone. My flames are sucked into it to be devoured and recycled. My two flames spin around Alasdair’s arm, his smile and eyes wide. He thrusts his arm towards me, and my own attack comes crackling back.

I throw myself to the side, dodging my flames, but the earth rises to meet me. “MotherFUCKER!” My magic crackles down my arms where the dirt is sucking me in and explodes it away to create a crater that I tumble into. Alasdair stands at the lip of the hollow, his head tilted and smile too wide.

Great, now I’m in a pit. This is going to shit fast.

Jinx’s voice hisses in my mind. Summon me and I will rip him to shreds.

NO! The pentagram needs you to stay there! I yell back before widening my stance for my next attack.

I whisper the counterspell and crack Alasdair’s control over the ground around me. I surge up, but something else lifts with me. Bones. The dead of the mass grave that the park is built upon clatter together as they claw their way to the surface. My face twists in horror. I’ve only read about magic like this. The lost, forbidden art of the Entropy weavers.

That asshole is using my own lost family’s line against me. I’m going to fucking kill him.

I whip my arm out in a roar of rage. The bones shatter, and I curl my hands into fists. I hurl the splinters at my brother before launching myself out of the pit.

The bone shards sail gracefully through Alasdair’s smiling face, and my heart jolts. An illusion. I don’t make it to the ground. The real Alasdair catches me in his waiting arms.

There’s no time to counter. Pain explodes through me, taking my senses and my air with it. My bones crush like I’m nothing more than a helpless insect. Jinx roars my name through our connection, and my magic surges to my aid, but Alasdair throws me like a broken doll he’s done playing with. My skull cracks against something solid, and my vision goes dark for a moment.

Returning to my senses is a hell I never wanted to experience. My arms are mangled, my ribs cracked. I’m a broken, crumpled heap at the feet of Antonia’s statue. I’m alive, not because I’m lucky, but because the creature wearing my brother’s body wants me alive.

Blood drips from my lips and my vision fades in and out. All I can manage is to focus on Alasdair’s leisurely stroll towards me. His voice forces its way into my skull and my mouth stretches in a silent scream.

“Oh, Tori. What a predicament you’ve made for yourself. Did you know that the child you grew up with never wanted to win those dueling tournaments you so easily dominated in? Oh yes. Your brother knew how much winning meant to you. He didn’t want you to hate him anymore. So he let himself be that idiot you loved to convince everyone he was.”

The creature throws his head back and laughs so hard that his steps stumble. He grips the statue of the Transformation Domain for support. He wipes at his eyes. “You are truly a wretched little thing. So cruel and heartless. You took someone who loved you, who was willing to do anything to make you love him, too, and created…” He sweeps his arm elegantly over himself. “Me. Your downfall.”

My heart pounds, and I try again and again to call my magic to heal myself. My concentration is shattered. I try to shake my head to focus, but my brain sloshes around my skull. The pain in my body, the pain from the creature’s words… They’re both too much for me to bear.

A faint tug in my heart has me gasping. No, Jinx!

Jinx snarls through our connection, He’s going to kill you! Let me through.

I pant and fight to piece each bone fragment within my right arm back in alignment without throwing up or passing out. If you come through, the pentagram will fall. I can do this.

“Don’t worry, little demon. I’m not going to kill her.”

The creature’s words jolt through me, and my eyes flare. How could he hear her? He crouches down before me and whispers, “Oh, Astoria. I’m going to make you watch as I tear your world apart. You wondered why I left Vincentius in your shop? It’s so you’d know the fate of all those you’ve ever loved, starting with your magician. You see, Vincentius didn’t die until I dropped him in your foyer. I kept him alive while I skinned him strip by strip. And when I do the same to your little magician, I’m going to make sure he knows this is because of you, so he too will curse your existence until I finally permit him to die. Then I’m going to drag Valen here and do the same to him.”

His fingers slide down my face. “I won’t let you die, Astoria. Not ever. You’ll live in an endless hell.” He leans forward until he’s inches from my face. “It’s what you deserve, and your suffering will be so… delicious.” A wet clicking sounds in his throat like when I faced the curse in my vault, the memory of its bony hand gripping mine with saliva dripping from its mouth shaking me.

The same fear of being slowly devoured alive chills me and it gives me enough strength to react. My magic surges, my eyes flashing, but he thrusts his hand out to punch my heart. I gape in soundless agony, my magic snuffing out from the blow. I fight to breathe in air, but it’s no use. Despair fills me, and my eyes spill over with tears.

Then there’s a cold burn inside my chest. Jinx, NO!

I scream as my chest rips open in a shower of blood and gore. A black, fanged beast explodes from my body, taking the last of my energy preserves as Jinx uses our tether to teleport from the shop to here. I’ve never exhausted this much of my magic before.

Jinx’s jaw closes around Alasdair, and he screeches as his blood sprays.

I crumple to the side, convulsing as my chest tries to knit itself back together. My vision is dulling, the pain unbearable. My heart hammers at an odd, too-fast rhythm that creates a hellish ache that seizes my lungs.

The fight between Jinx and Alasdair is wet, blood spraying everywhere as they grapple for control. Her pull on my magic threatens to dip into my life energy, but she stops right before it goes too far.

They roll out of sight, then silence falls.

Shuffling has my eyes fluttering, and I struggle to lift my head to see who it is. I flinch when it’s not Jinx, but Alasdair. He’s limping heavily, his right leg not working as it should. All his teeth show when he smiles, blood pouring all over him. His coat is gone, and his beige suit is stained a dark red and torn in parts to reveal rendered flesh.

The statue of Antonia melts. The white marble surrounds my limp body, drawing me up. A distant pained yowl is drowned out by Alasdair’s high-pitched, manic laughter. His head is thrown back, and his eyes glow in the black pits. A tear slips down my face.