Chapter 15: Chapter 13

Hi!

You know, it occured to me that in many countries the number 13 is considered an unlucky number. For me that can't be said of Chapter 13. Not unlucky at all - in terms of having fun while writing it. When it comes to Anna and her fate... well that's another story.

What do you think, is she doing the 'right' thing?

Lara

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Chapter 13

We'd landed on a rooftop, surrounded by lofty skyscrapers and sleek edifices. The wind raced back and forth, cut through the silent rows of rogues behind like an icy seesaw. I blinked, stared at the dark-glassed building on the other side of the street.

I was expecting another glimpse of New York City in ragged clothing; yet another cluster of crumbling warehouses and abandoned buildings. I was prepared for another stealth attack in a dangerous, but mostly vacated area.

I was wrong. The place we were in smacked of swept pavements, polished shoes, long cab lines, and money. We were in a part of New York that sported structured buildings aligning in perfect sync.

We were close enough to the Circle's headquarter to see the familiar logo in the distance, the letters Spira like bloody tears in the night sky. Would it be far enough away for the Circle to be oblivious to whatever pandemonium the Brotherhood was about to cause?

Not that the Raven seemed to care much. He was focused on the building on the other side of the street. I could see the security cameras on the rooftop across and down on the street from where I was standing. Whatever company was behind its walls, it had money. Enough money to arm itself with human technology, and protective spells.

Even without going into second sight I could feel the buzz of wards, welcoming our arrival like an electrically charged handshake. Their security was tight. Maybe not as tight as the Circle's own, but enough to give me goose bumps just from standing within a forty-feet-radius. So how, with a handful of dark witches and an unstable mind, was the Raven going to get in there? Was that even what he wanted?

Hadn't I been staring at him, I might have missed the exact moment. His hand vanished in his coat, gone and lost in black leather. When it came out he was holding a silver disc, no bigger than my palm.

I froze. I knew, knew what it was without a doubt.

The wards were too strong to break or counter them with magic. Medici wasn't going to use magic, he would annihilate it. He was going to use a null-bomb.

I expected the Raven to hand the disc to Walter, one of his most trusted rogues. Instead the unthinkable happened. With a smile Raphael Medici turned to me, holding out the thing as if it was my freaking birthday present. I blinked, stared at the disc, before my eyes made the long way up to his face. Warily. Painfully slow to adjust to this new situation. Yet another two-forked lane to hell.

"Take it. Walter will bring you down. Walk up to the building, as close as you can get without getting too close to the wards," Medici said softly. "Don't accidently trigger them."

Why me?

I didn't say the words out loud. No need to. The answer presented itself on its own. Two answers in fact. Both equally plausible and revealing. One: There was a small chance that even these magical artifacts could only be triggered by elementary magic, something most non-rogues couldn't do anymore.

Two: Medici was making sure the Circle knew I was part of it. He wanted them to see my face when they checked the security cameras' footage and remember it when they started hunting the perpetrators. Make me understand that there was no way out, that being a rogue was a life-long subscription. Because if I ever turned my back on the Inri Brotherhood, I would have no place to go.

My eyes went back to the disc then to his face again. I had no idea what using the disc might do to me. It was another round of Russian roulette in the deadly game I was playing.

"I don't know how to-"

Medici laughed. "Yes you do. You activate it by releasing the spell contained. "

I stared at him for a long moment, not doing anything. What if I simply refused?

His laughter faded. "What you're not realizing is that I'm awfully generous. Complete this task, Anna, and I will hand over Elena Larosa's diary. Refuse, and someone else will take your place." He turned his head and held up his palm, beckoning to someone or something.

I turned with him. Walter stepped out of the crowd of dark witches. I stilled.

"Who is she? What did you do to her?"

Long blond hair in a mess of a ponytail. Big blue eyes. Dressed in torn jeans and a grey hoodie. She couldn't be older than sixteen. They were holding her in a deadly grip, her hands probably bound at her back. Her left check was red and swollen.

The Raven took a step forward. "What do you say to this, Anna Johnson? I got myself another witch, just in case. Though I doubt she's as deft as you are." He shrugged. "I heard she's one of the most promising novices in your Circle Academy. Who knows, the magical backlash might not even kill her."

I stared at her, refused to shut my eyes and turn away from the silent scream in those blue eyes. This was what I felt. She'd been dragged into this, just like me. Unlike me, she was still an innocent.

I closed my eyes. I had to do it anyway.

"Promise me you'll let her go if I agree to do this," I said, without looking at the Raven.

"Why should I do that?"

"You said it yourself Raphael. These spells are powerful enough to knock the wielder right into death. What do you think would happen if the witch died in the moment the magic is released? Are you willing to risk finding out? Only a powerful witch can use the disc without it blowing up into our faces."

I'm not sure that's me.

Truth was, I had no idea if I was powerful enough. But there was no one else.

Raphael laughed, lacing his fingers behind his back. "Alright, Anna Johnson. Deal." He waved his hand and the rogues stepped back, dragging the witch with them. "We'll release her, after you've done the deed."

I inhaled slowly. "How am I supposed to release the spell?"

"It's simple. Real simple. You crack it up and take the magic inside."

I swallowed. If I released the magic without knowing the proper incantation, or magical password, the magic would pour out uncontrolled. The magical backlash could hurt or kill me. Among other things.

No wonder he decided to let me do it. Another test in the long series of trials he put me through.

"And then what?" I said.

"Then, Anna Johnson, we walk in and take what's ours by right," he said, flashing me a wolfish grin.

"What's in there?" I eyed the nameless company.

More artifacts? Delicate information? What?

"It doesn't matter, Anna. The question you should be asking yourself is: are you with us, or against us?"

The unspoken words hung in the air between us. If I was against them, both I and the young witch would die.

Decisions. Alleyways that could lead to hell and back again.

I took the disc wordlessly. The flat surface warmed to my touch, vibrated with contained power. It made me wonder just who spelled the thing to begin with. One thing was sure. Whatever was in there was damned powerful. Maybe too powerful for me to control.

* * *

We landed in the side street facing the gray-glassed building. Walter stepped back and away from me, vanishing into a portal faster than I could say goodbye. Not that I would have said anything of the kind.

I stared at the building, the unknown company that the Inri Brotherhood wanted to gain access to. If it wasn't me, someone else was going to do it. My thoughts went back to the young witch. She might die trying.

Fact was that someone was going to activate and drop that null bomb in front of the building. If I did it, I might have a little control over how much magic got nulled. Maybe. And, there was something else I could do. The only thing I could do for whoever was inside. Even if it meant risking exposure. Or something worse.

I nodded slowly, wondering if what I was doing was the most stupid, or the best decision I ever made since I 'joined' the Brotherhood. I stared at the disc. Holding it, getting a taste of the nature of the magic, learning the spell – it might just be worth the risk.

Palming the disc in my right hand, I stepped out of the shadows and into the deserted side street. The riots in the past few weeks were like a silent ghost haunting the city, as if it couldn't get rid of the memory of commotion and turmoil – even in silence. I didn't know much, but judging from what little I knew, the cops, the vamps, and the Circle must have had their hands full trying to keep up a sense of order.

I walked towards the premises of the nameless behemoth of a building, crossing the street step by unnerving step. Was this my first step at beating the Raven at his own game, or the slow beginning of my downfall?

I stared at the building, my eyes darting to the security cameras. I hoped that they had an armory filled with human weapons and enough human security to brave this attack. By the great three witches, I hoped they had.

Second sight showed me a checkered mass of red – an intricate warding spell the Circle would be jealous of. If I revealed my aura shortly before I dropped the disc, the security might be alerted and realize what was happening in time. I would take the moment of surprise from the Raven's hands. Only, would it be enough?

My fingers tightened on the disc. The magic flared up for a moment, stealing my breath away, making me falter in my slow rhythm. I swallowed.

Downfall or not, I was going to find out.

* * *

A property shark will never tell you the truth. A grain of truth, perhaps, mixed with a conundrum of lies and sweet denials of what in fact is and is not. He will promise you heaven on earth, put within reach what you've dreamed of ever since you learned the meaning of white picket fence – all just for a little money. Pay up, in advance, and I'll give you all you've dreamed of. Drunk on visions of white picket fences and the like, you trust and pay up. All you get in return is an empty bank account and fistfuls of nothing.

I was pretty sure Raphael Medici was one of the greatest property sharks in this city – in terms of verbal lies and deceit. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get much out of completing this maze of trials, at least where the Raven was concerned. This was something I was aware of while walking towards the building. Why still do it?

I did it, because I had no other choice. The young witch or me, we both could die trying to use the disc.

Besides, the property shark himself once told me, in order to not become the hunted, you must become the hunter. I would take Medici's advice. I was just going to do that. I would become the hunter that stopped the Inri Brotherhood or die trying. Besides, no one said I couldn't take fistfuls of nothing and turn them into something else.

Standing in front of the nameless building, the fistfuls of nothing felt just like that. Nothing.

I tightened my grip on the disc and closed my eyes.

Now or never.

I called power to me, sharpened it, made the air my own. I sent a flare of power out, a ripple in the magical landscape that would hopefully warn whoever was guarding the building.

Exhaling, I got a grip on the magic around me, and with the twitch of a metaphorical finger, I sent a probing touch towards the disc. The disc heated to my touch, hot to the point of scalding. Magic whirled and whizzed underneath my palms, ready to get out and wreak havoc without the right combination of words.

Neither did I know the details of the spell, nor did I have the right kind of words. That left me with one option.

I gripped the disc with my second hand and tore it in two. Time slowed down as power rushed out, visible, flash-like arms that glittered in my vision. For a moment I could see them. The strongest, most beautiful red color I'd ever laid my eyes on.

Time unhinged, thrown back into its usual pathways. My vision separated, shattered, then petered out into tunnels of auratic gray mixed with red. The magic dove into me, a pack of wolves tearing their way through my flesh. Fire. Pain. Fire.

The discs were scalding-hot, glowing with power und magic. I cried out, kept my hands on the disc. Losing my grip on the item, on what little hold I had on the unfolding spell, was not something I could afford.

I reigned them in, red flashes with sharp needle like claws that tore into skin, then flesh, then bone with every breath, with every new attempt at controlling them.

Words infuse intent. Repeated action patterns guarantee success. Bereft of the conscious, thinking part, my mind went back to the words it knew.

"Auram te laudo. Aura veni, auxilium desidero."

The words rumbled through my mind, bigger than real life letters. I gripped the disc, holding it to my chest. Heat flared, burned burned away.

"I take it. I take the magical backlash," I whispered, tasting salt and copper on my lips.

Magic detonated around me, threw me back on the ground. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness, was a night sky tainted in red.