Page 64 of Transfiguration
“That could be part of this array, using nullification to remove all magic? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t touch it? Did they kill another Pillar here?” Con asked. He knew that Kelly had become Pillar here over a decade ago, but the water Pillar previous to him was still alive, to Con’s knowledge.
He reached for the backpack Seiran still held and pulled out an oilcloth sack that was spelled to store powerful books and artifacts. He opened the sack and willed the wind to put the partial hand in the bag. Would it stay together? Bones didn’t normally work that way, but the magic magnetized them somehow. “This area still aches with something. A void? Not exactly a null field…”
Seiran frowned. “Nullified spots don’t really feel like anything. It doesn’t hurt the earth. It just feels like it’s not there. This was deeper than that. Like a toothache in the earth that it couldn’t touch?”
Or the root of a stronger spell. Con couldn’t sense anything else nearby. “I need to check the rest of the area for more spots like this.”
“What if it is part of Matthew’s body? Does that mean he’s scattered into pieces across the world? And why?” Seiran asked.
Was this part of the demon array Kaine had mentioned? Con wondered. He thought about all he knew about magic, runes, and the balance of the elements. Was it strange that it all seemed related and yet he couldn’t find the tie that bound them all together? Matthew had been a vampire. He had also been a witch with nullification powers. He had hunted other vampires. Why? For the Kresnik, who didn’t want vampires and witches to exist? He had preyed upon Seiran as a child, trying to manipulate him, or something else?
Con sighed and bound up the bag, thinking he’d need to take flight to find another spot like this in the giant area. Maybe by the cabin? The thought of seeing it again chilled him. Was it even there?
Bryar appeared beside them, manifesting in his human form again. “I found two more dark bits like this,” he said as he pointed in the distance. Con swallowed, fearing the memories more than the darkness. If he could go home to his men and find comfort, all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream. He didn’t want to think of Sam and Luca. Were they dreaming? Would they return at all? Would it take decades? Con didn’t know if he wanted the answers or not.
“Show me,” Con said, and Bryar took the lead. Con shoved his feelings down. His therapist would have been angry, telling him he was gearing up for an explosion by funneling away his pain. But sometimes survival came before managing trauma, and right now Con was in survivor mode.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Con feared the cabin and any memories that stirred from its presence after years of distance, but none of the structure remained. Not even a splinter of wood. The broken pieces of darkness were little more than pea-sized dots scattered about a barren area. Seiran stayed back, giving Con room to work.
The ground was clear, nothing grew, the dirt a gray color not unlike fireplace soot. Lifeless, Con realized as he stepped into the space, his teeth vibrating with that strange sensation. Not even nutrients remained in the soil. He felt like he stood in a vacuum of noise and life, his own senses muted until he had to work to feel the threads of his magic. But the wind was always grateful to be unleashed, finding glee when it could tear things from the earth to prove its power.
Con searched the area for signs of his sister, wishing for a glimpse of her or even a faint voice whispering through his ears to tell him she was doing okay, and maybe that he wasn’t a giant fuck up, but there was nothing. Pain burned in his soul for everything he’d lost. Kat. Luca. Sam. Bella. He fed the agony to the wind, giving it strength and rage, and adding an edge of numbness to his mind.
Nothing remained. Con took to the sky to be sure, returning to Seiran’s side annoyed because they had part of a hand and a few teeth. Matthew’s or someone else? Had they slaughtered a ton of nulls? Created vampires from them to kill them over and over? Why do any of this?
“Maybe we should check where Matthew died next?” Seiran asked, his fists clenched at his side. “I feel useless in this, unable to touch any of it.”
“Someone planted him to be used against you, Ronnie,” Con said. “Let’s go see this spot he died. I bet there are a few pieces yet. Which makes no fucking sense because a vampire goes to ground for long enough and they dissolve to nothing but the revenant and the soul. The lack of body weakens the revenant, allowing the soul to renew and return, fueled by earth as they are creatures of earth and death magic.”
Seiran’s eyes widened.
“It’s called reading, Ronnie. You’re familiar with the hobby, right?”
“I need a reading list from you,” Seiran demanded.
“If they spelled the body somehow to not dissolve, the question is why? To keep the revenant strong and destroy the soul? Or something else? And he’s placed in your life over and over to shatter you. Why? Did they know you’d be Pillar? Did they know Kelly would be Pillar? Why did no one ever aim for him? Matthew took Sam from some poor neighborhood. Warped his mind and used him. Did they know how powerful he’d be? And who is they? I hate this fucking game.” Con cursed. “Let’s go to where he died, see how much of him remains there.”
The trip through the veil was easier the second time. Con mentally deconstructed the lines as they moved, thinking maybe he could, over time, craft a way through himself. Bryar guided them with ease, and they landed in an empty field. Weeds stretched as far as the eye could see, except one large circular section which was more of that ashy sand.
“They destroyed the area and removed any debris trying to keep it from becoming a nullified zone,” Seiran said. “It’s been over a decade.” He shuddered. “I’ve not been back here since that day.”
Con made his way to the ring. No darkness anywhere to be seen. The land itself ached with a muted life feeling, like something had scorched existence itself, but nothing dark remained. No pieces of Matthew left? Had they been wrong? Was it not Matthew? Or had this been a beginning? Perhaps he’d completely dissolved here to reawaken elsewhere? Or even summoned? Could a summoner or a necromancer call a vampire to them from the earth?
Con raised the wind, unfettered by the stain on the earth. An actual nullified area would have prevented his touch on the wind, but he drew it down, asking for help to search. Maybe it was buried deep, and this ring was huge, easily a football field wide. The wind whipped and writhed, digging for him, spewing ash everywhere.
Nothing. There was nothing anywhere. His frustration grew. Answers out of reach. He heard Seiran calling to him, but the winds drowned it all out to nothing but echoes of indistinguishable noise. He kept digging until the field was a hole, a crater wide enough to bury half a neighborhood. The wind told him to keep going, urging him on like it could sense something, and he tuned everything out, shoving more and more of his power into the wind.
A hand touched his arm. Small fingers reaching up to weave through Con’s hand and the power faded. The break in concentration made him realize how far he’d been gone. The wind had nearly taken him completely, hadn’t it?
He blinked, swallowing hard, and struggled for a minute to contain all that power. It wanted something, didn’t it? Called to him. Begged him to let go, but the hand in his gently tugged at his senses. Not wind power, but a familiar touch just the same.
Con slowly released his hold on all of it. It was a painfully slow process, releasing one thread of his connection to the wind at a time, but keeping the madness at bay. This was what Seiran struggled with, wasn’t it? The earth always pulling at him, asking to be free to reign down nightmares. The wind wanted much the same, and he’d almost let it go. Would he have survived that? He’d never been that far gone before.
By the time he released the last of the power and the wind vanished into nothing more than a gentle breeze, his entire body burned as if he’d had the most intense work out of his life. Every muscle screamed in pain, tight with the added aggression of the wind not being allowed to rage. He looked down to find Kaine’s hand in his, the child’s eyes glowing, but expression bland.
Con turned to find Seiran some distance away with Bryar at his back, but Seiran’s face was ashen. Did he think Con would hurt Kaine? He wouldn’t. Con had recognized that tentative touch of magic instantly, the calming brush of it giving him clarity and strength.