Page 189 of Serpent and Shadow

For a brief instant, behind my eyes, I saw the perfect outline of an enormous, jackal-headed being, taller even than the magicked statue that stood behind the altar.

The energy that left my chest and whole body was beyond anything I’d ever felt.

I barely saw Malefic through all that light when he fell.

Then I was just standing there, next to Bones.

Strangely, I no longer felt as tired. Holding up my body, any part of my body, no longer felt like a chore. I glanced at Bones, but he didn’t look at me, even then.

His eyes and magic both aimed at the shirtless figure sprawled on the floor.

I followed his stare to Malefic, still gasping and vibrating from the intensity of that magic. The tiredness I felt was different now, and even contained a whisper of real grief. I don’t think it was for me, though. It was for the man standing next to me, who had to feel differently about this, even if most of his feeling centered on relief.

Malefic’s upper body had fallen into the blue flames.

He wasn’t unconscious.

He was dead.

40

Prodigal

Ilooked up at Bones, shocked suddenly by the immediacy of his presence.

His hand, still sparking with magic, didn’t lower, but remained aimed at the body of his father. I didn’t see any grief in his eyes as he stared down at his father’s lifeless body. I wasn’t sure what he even understood. Rage stood out in his glowing gold eyes. He stared at Malefic unflinchingly, his eyes as hard and cold as diamonds.

He looked like he was restraining himself with an effort.

He also looked like he didn’t fully believe he was dead.

If I could have spoken to him through my bruised and swollen throat, I might have told him it was all right, that it was over, that Malefic wouldn’t be getting up. For some reason, I strongly got the impression he neither wanted nor needed that from me.

I could feel his awareness of my presence at his side, and maybe that was enough. I could feel him relaxing into me, into my magic, but I wasn’t sure how conscious he was of that, either. His attention never left the dark wizard in front of us. I could feel him struggling to process it somehow, maybe just to see it as real. I didn’t want to take a single second of that away from him. I wanted to touch him, desperately, but now wasn’t the time for that, either.

After a few more minutes, he spoke in a low, deep voice.

“It’s gone,” he said. “I can feel it.”

I nodded. I could almost feel it through him.

Bones already felt… different.

“Yes,” he said, swallowing. “Different.”

I felt him turn it over in his mind, fighting to see it not as something transitory, but as something new. The burn lines on his neck from the collar stood out on his skin, but I swore I could see more color in him. His longish, platinum blond hair looked different against skin that seemed to have more life in it, and flesh that already seemed to be changing.

He lowered his arm, and the magic coiling around it began to lose some of its charge. I looked down at it, then back at his face, and that time, he reached out, offering me his hand.

I took it in relief, gripping his fingers tightly.

We were still standing there, when I grew aware something had new had changed. I felt the chimaeras around the school shudder, like they were being altered, reconfigured. That oppressive weight I’d felt on them when Dark Cathedral locked them down was starting to lift. I looked around Worm Hall, and realized Magicals weren’t fighting anymore.

They appeared to be fleeing.

I looked back at Bones.

A different fear hit me, looking at him, feeling the Praecuri descending.