Page 67 of Malcroix Bones Academy (Bones and Shadow #1)

Caelum

Ilet out a shocked cry, what might’ve been a scream if I’d had more air in my lungs to expel.

I looked up and back, and saw who I’d somehow expected to see, even before I felt the sharp planes of his chest and abdomen against my bare shoulders and back.

Before I could emit a word, he pulled me roughly behind him and held up an arm, both warning me back and shielding me from Ankha.

I wasn’t really in the mood to argue, even if he’d given me a chance.

As it was, he raised his other hand, aiming it at my aunt like a weapon.

Ankha burst out in a laugh.

“You fool of a boy,” she scoffed. “Your father will tear the skin from your back for this.” Her voice filled with a darker, more vicious contempt. “Blood heir or not, you’re hardly a man. Do you really want to match magics with me? Do you even know who I am?”

Caelum didn’t answer.

I felt the barest hesitation on him, like a held breath.

Then the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck abruptly stood on end. It felt like I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. My heart stopped in my chest, my breath choked off without warning, every muscle in my body clenched like I’d pressed my hand to a live wire.

Gold light shone sharp and bright from somewhere in front of me.

It was coming off him. Off his chest, off his eyes.

I realized, a split-second before it happened, what he was about to do.

By then, it was already leaving his hand.

Black-silver light shot out of him, cracking the air like a bolt of lightning.

Instead of effort, I felt relief on him, even peace, like the effort of holding it back was exponentially greater than whatever he did to finally relax his hold.

The coil of magic tunneled out of his chest and hand, reminding me of videos of tornados I’d seen, only a tornado of pure black fire.

The sound was deafening, the air blindingly bright with silver sparks and threads.

It made my teeth clamp together, even though I stood behind him.

The intensity seemed to compress my skull, to press against every part of my flesh, stopping my blood in its veins.

That fire slammed into my aunt.

I heard her neck snap before I comprehended what it was.

Then her whole head wrenched violently to one side, and a second, even more sickening crack made me gasp. The force was so violent, so seamless, I was more shocked at how quick and nearly mundane the actual death part was in the end.

Then the black and silver flames engulfed her for real.

A series of smaller cracking sounds filled my ears and head, so many of them, so closely together, it was like a long string of firecrackers going off.

It seemed to go on and on, but I knew, somehow, it hadn’t.

It was over fast.

It was over in seconds.

I was still gritting my teeth painfully, eyes too wide, tensed into myself against the fireplace wall, when the ripple of black and silver fire finally ran itself out.

I stood there, panting, for a few seconds of silence.

Then, slowly, I looked at him.

Caelum stood unmoving, both arms still held out, still shielding me from a danger that had already passed.

He was panting, trembling, sweating, and I could practically feel the adrenaline flowing through every part of him, causing his body to twitch and vibrate as it no longer had any place to go.

The gold glow still rose from his chest, and I could see some of it now, as I stepped forward to look at his face.

There were runes, glowing across the top of his chest.

His shirt was open. I could see them clearly on his bare skin.

I stepped even closer.

No, they weren’t runes, or not only runes. Hieroglyphs stood there, Ancient Egyptian language cut into his flesh by golden light. I could only make out a few of the symbols: the Eye of Ra, a twisted snake, an ankh, what looked like a half-animal male form with a staff.

Caelum’s eyes glowed gold. That gold writhed eerily with dancing flames.

My emotions around him even being there briefly overwhelmed me.

They were almost too much for me to handle. They were too chaotic, too confused, too filled with contradictions and irrational intensities I wasn’t ready to deal with. Not now. Not tonight. Not after everything that happened, or what he’d just done.

I focused my gaze on the rest of the room.

The pentagram, the candles, the bloody skull, the painting, the ashes, the blue crystals, all of it was gone. The only thing left was a massive burn-mark that covered most of the threadbare rug.

My aunt was gone.

Somehow, it took longer to acknowledge that.

The reality of her complete absence, the memory of the last look on her face when her neck viciously snapped, took longer to reach past the shock of the past several minutes.

My eyes lowered then, to the black scorch-marks on the wood where Ankha had stood.

In the very center, something glinted green.

Pushing past Caelum’s arm, I walked up to it.

I bent down, and carefully plucked the La Fey Stone from the blackened wood.

Then, still without looking at him, with my back mostly to him, I pulled the chain around my head and neck, settling it back on my chest, where it belonged.

I cleared my throat, stared down at the scorch marks on the wood, the tiny shards of broken glass left over from the gold mirror.

Only then did I notice my hands and arms.

I stared down at the specks of red that completely covered my skin.

I’d smeared some of it, picking up the La Fey Stone and putting it around my neck.

I felt my chest above the bodice, then my face, and felt dampness in those places, too.

Specks of red covered the gold band around my upper arm, my gold sandals, my feet.

They likely covered my skirt, but it was black; I didn’t touch it to feel if it was damp.

“I’m going upstairs.” My voice sounded numb, even to me. “I’m going upstairs to see if my brother’s all right?”

“No.” His voice came out cold, forceful, but I heard it shake. “No. We have to go. Now.”

I pushed past him without looking at his face, and, for some reason, he didn’t stop me.

His voice twisted into a growl.

“Leda!”

I flinched, shocked somehow, to hear my first name on his lips.

I didn’t stop, though.

I walked to the old staircase, and began to climb, my hands clasped in front of me.

Instinctively almost, I didn’t touch anything, even though I wanted to cling to the banister, to use it to drag myself up each stair, one at a time.

It took every ounce of my remaining strength to get myself up there without stopping, without touching any of it.

I felt Caelum following, but he didn’t call out to me again.

He didn’t do or say anything until I opened my brother’s bedroom door. Then he grabbed my arm from behind, and whispered by my ear.

“Just check that he’s all right,” he hissed. “That’s all.”

“I want to wake him up,” I whispered back. “I want to talk to him, to explain?”

“Explain what?” he snapped. “You’re covered in fucking blood. You want to explain that to your little brother? Now? When the Praecuri are probably already on their way?”

I stopped at that.

Briefly, I just stood there, and mentally blinked.

I’d known it was blood. Looking up at him in the dark, I could see even more of it on him.

His hair was dark with it, as was his face, now that I stared into it.

The thought made me queasy. My mind told me that was ridiculous.

I’d known it was blood, that it was my aunt’s blood, that my aunt was dead. I’d known all those things.

My logical mind also told me I was probably in shock.

My heart thudded in my chest. My breathing sounded odd, and hurt a little.

I was coherent enough to know I was grateful.

I was really, really grateful, and not only for myself.

If I wasn’t shaking with adrenaline, covered with gore, and probably in shock, I might have hugged him.

“I’ll just look at him,” I said, looking up to meet Caelum’s gaze.

He studied my eyes behind that mask of blood, his still glowing faintly with shimmering, liquid light. Slowly, he nodded, and released my arm. His hand left more blood on my skin.

I walked into my brother’s room.

It was so strange being in there. So much of it even looked the same.

But then it would, wouldn’t it? It had only been a few months.

Barely half a year.

He still had the dragon poster on his wall that I’d given him, and the shelves stuffed with books and small figurines. The patchwork quilt that covered him had come with the house, as had the wooden chest at the foot of his bed, and the giant, antique-looking desk.

He’d brought some of my things into his room in the past few months.

My stuffed animals and a few plastic horses I’d had since I was younger than him found their way onto his shelves.

A few of my books lay on the floor, surrounded by mechanical dinosaurs and a Dungeons and Dragons manual he’d left open on the rug.

I walked to his bed, and looked down at his soft face.

I listened until I was positive I heard him breathing.

His nose wrinkled when I still didn’t move, and he flinched, almost like he smelled me there, or smelled the blood on me, maybe, but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Leda!” Caelum whispered.

My jaw slowly clenched.

I knew he was right.

I knew he was right.

But it was harder than hell to make myself turn away.

I didn’t look around his room a second time as I walked back to the door. Caelum was holding out a hand, and I didn’t hesitate but simply took it, not even stopping to shut the door behind me.

“How do we get out of here?” I asked him, quiet. “Do we find a mirror somewhere? Do you know how to magic one so it can take us back, if I find us one in a pub or something?”

He gave me an odd look. “No. Absolutely not. That’s suicide.”

“What choice do we have?” I asked, looking up.

He blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it as he stared towards the front of the house. His eyes fixed on the round window over the stairwell that looked out to the drive, and the street beyond.

“We have to go. Leda, I can feel?” he began.

“I feel it, too,” I told him.

I did. Something was coming. I could feel it like strange, sparking sensations all over my golden sun primal.

Something like feathers was descending over the house and the grounds outside.

Not actual feathers, like what would come from magical wings?these felt like magical touches, possibly far-reaching probes, like someone or something trying to see what was happening inside these walls, possibly from a great distance.

“They’re scanning the environment,” he muttered. “It’s the Praecuri. It has to be. They won’t be far behind.”

His jaw hardened as he seemed to make up his mind.

He didn’t tell me what he’d decided.

He released my hand, and wrapped a lean arm tightly around my waist.

I sucked in a breath, startled, but he was already moving with me, gripping me tightly against his body and wrapping his other arm around my shoulders and upper chest.

“Don’t fight me,” he growled in my ear. “Press to me as tightly as you can.”

I didn’t question that, either.

I wrapped my own arms around his and gripped tightly.

Then, before I could protest, or make so much as a squeak?

He walked us right into the wall.