Life Beyond the Temple Page 12

  She wasted no time tearing the damn thing off. I didn’t care that she had taken off my clothes; I just wanted it to end.

  And then it did. Cam didn’t say anything, though. She just sat there in silence, not touching me, not helping as hot tears of pain streamed down my face.

  “Casey… what is all of this?”

  That pain. It was similar to something that happened before. Weaker, so much less than what I knew, not nearly as intense as before. But similar. Similar with something else on my lower back, something new. He was adding on. Sick bastard.

  “Casey, it says ‘Nice scars.’ Casey, what happened? What are all of these?”

  I wanted to throw up. How had he known about them?

  “Casey, what is this?” Cam was freaking out now. Great. That’s all I needed.

  “It’s my limitations,” I finally said, my voice like sandpaper.

  Chapter 11

  “WHAT THE hell does that mean?” Cam shouted.

  I wanted to say something, to explain, but I felt dizzy and sick, and so goddamn tired. She could wait for her bloody answers. I needed a nap.

  I remembered falling face-first as the blackness took me, only this time those familiar eyes weren’t there to catch me and tell me I’d be okay. Instead I heard the echo of a shout, “Casey!” Later. I’d go to it later. Right now I was tired.

  WHEN I came to, I was lying on my stomach on something much softer than the hard, dusty concrete of the warehouse.

  “Casey?” The voice was soft. Regan. Regan was there.

  “Is she awake?” Cam too.

  “I think so,” Regan said.

  “Everyone shut up. I’m not done yet.” Ston’s voice was rough. It was always so rough, but I don’t think it was his fault. I think he really cared. He just didn’t know how to show it.

  “You’ve been at this for an hour,” Cam complained.

  “They’re magic-inflicted wounds. He made them much more difficult to heal,” Ston growled.

  Funny in a way. Bringing everything together. Hard to heal. Ha-ha. He has no idea. Maybe part of it was the magic, but the other part was me. Cam probably didn’t notice when she healed the cut on my hand, it being so small. When we cross the line, we are punished, and some punishments are more severe than others.

  I went to say something—I don’t know what—but instead the dark pulled me back into its grasp.

  “I THOUGHT it was funny,” someone said as I lazily blinked my eyes open.

  I lifted my head and looked up to see the man with the brown hair, almost black eyes, and tight black shirt. “You,” I groaned.

  “Me.” He had that twisted smile again.

  “What’s going on?” The room was blindingly white. If he was evil, why did he surround himself with white? It hurt.

  “Well, you were out of it anyways, so I thought I’d say hi. Did you like it? Bring back memories?” He looked… excited.

  “Wasn’t bad enough for what you were going for,” I finally managed. My body ached, and I still felt like I was in pain. Every now and then I’d feel dizzy, or my eyes would roll back or my head would loll around. I was out of it.

  “It seemed pretty painful from where I was.”

  “It was, just not as painful as it should have been.”

  “Really? How did you bear it?”

  “I didn’t get the worst of it, made it a bit easier when I saw my friend. I didn’t stand it. I would have passed out if I could have. I would have died if they let me. Anything.”

  He looked up at the ceiling and said, “Time for you to wake up.”

  I SAT up and gasped for air.

  Regan was right there, holding my arm as if to steady me. “Are you okay?” I didn’t say anything, just looked around for Cam and Ston. “I sent them to their rooms. It’s almost midnight.”

  I let myself lean into her, and she gingerly wrapped her arms around me. “Regan,” I whimpered.

  “I’m here.”

  “It hurt. So bad.”

  “I know. It’s okay. They’re just—”

  “More scars,” I finished for her, a little angrily.

  She didn’t say anything, and I knew I was right. She kissed the top of my head. I was just in my bra still, but I didn’t care. “Casey, what happened? What are those scars? Where did you get them?”

  “You know that most mages try and cross the line of possibilities. They try and push how far they can take magic. Usually they don’t lose much. Maybe a scar on the hand, a little less power, and little harder to heal. It’s never bad. They never try too much. They just want to see if they can do what nobody else can. The insatiable curiosity of the mages.”

  “Is that what these are from?” Her hand traced the scars on my shoulder.

  They had been cut into me by the Old Ones. Some were ancient runes, a couple small burns, long slashes. It was horrible. I hated them. “Yes,” I whispered hoarsely.

  “What did you do to get these?”

  “I tried to bring someone back.”

  “You did what?”

  “I tried to bring back one of the dead. A friend of mine died in an accident. That almost never happens in the Temple, but sometimes it does. He died, and another friend and I wanted him back.” Martun’s sister. “We tried to bring back the dead.”

  I blinked and was back to that day. I knew it was just a flashback, but it seemed so real.

  “CASEY! WE have to! We can’t just ignore this!” Jane yelled. She looked like Martun. Dirty blonde hair and brown eyes.

  “It’s impossible. We can’t do this,” I protested. Yes, I had found a way to theoretically do it, but it wasn’t possible.

  “Don’t tell me that. You are the most powerful mage I know.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “You’ve crossed the line before.”

  “Little things. Small teleportations. Looking into the Veil at a few of the dead. Small things. This can’t be done by anyone.” I had looked into the Veil, almost like looking through a window. It was unheard of and people thought it was as impossible as going into it. I had never told anyone about these… successes except Jane. And she was the last one I told.

  “You said you saw him,” she said. “You said you found a way.”

  “Theoretically! You can’t do this. We can’t do this. It’s impossible. We don’t know what the punishment would be!” We were in my little section of the library. Nobody came here. I had seen her brother through the Veil, and that’s what gave me the idea.

  “We have to try.”

  “There are things you’re not even supposed to try, things that the Old Ones punish heavily.” I didn’t want to do this. We shared a room back then, and I had left out a notebook with the theoretical spell.

  “I don’t care what the punishment is! I need him back! Goddammit, Casey! If you don’t help, I’ll do it on my own.” She started to storm off, and I ran after her.

  It would be even more dangerous if she were alone. If we could combine our power, maybe there would be less punishment for the crime we were about to do.

  Maybe it would actually work.

  “Fine,” I said quietly. “Fine, I’ll help. We’ll try and get him back.”

  That night we went back to the room. We stood side by side, shoulders pressed against each other to connect our Life Force, to blend together.

  “Ready?” I asked. I felt sick, but I could also feel the twisted excitement. That made it worse. I wanted to do this, not for him, not for Jane, but because I wanted to see if it would work.

  “Ready,” Jane said.

  Simultaneously we pulled energy from our core, taking it down the pathways we knew best to our hands, which were lying on top of his jacket.

  The only thought in my head was Bring him back.

  We had to concentrate fully on this. To bring someone from the Veil was supposed to be impossible, but if it worked, we’d need the exact amount of Life Force in a person. We would both give up half of our Life Force. It would slowly return. You would need
to picture the person perfectly, and at the same time, I’d need to call him through the Veil. A tiny opening for him to come through.

  It wasn’t safe.

  It wasn’t easy.

  But it worked.

  I didn’t even know it had worked until after the pain. Until after my punishment for my crime.

  A voice echoed in my head. “We shall leave you, for you are needed in the future. You are necessary for the future of this world, but you can be replaced if need be. Do not trifle with us again.” The Old Ones. “These scars shall remind you of the treason you have committed. Your ability to heal shall be a constant punishment.”

  When I had stopped screaming, forced to remain conscious to endure this hell, I looked over to see Jane. She was just scraps of bloody flesh. She was gone. I had killed her. Her head was the only recognizable piece of her. It lay on the floor in a growing pool of blood, her eyes wide open and looking at me, her mouth open in a silent scream. Everything else was just tiny pieces of meat and bone.

  “Jane,” I whimpered, on the verge of passing out.

  I heard a groan from my other side and turned to see him. He was here, I lived, and Jane was gone. She was gone forever.

  “Casey?” His voice was slurred, and he looked around, his eyes glazed. “Casey, what’s happening?” He looked down at his hands covered in blood.

  “Martun,” I whispered before finally blacking out.

  When I woke up, I was sitting across from my grandfather. “How’d you do it?” He was angry.

  “What?” I felt sick.

  “How did you bring Martun back?”

  “He’s alive?”

  “Jane died, and you have been in the infirmary for three days being healed. You were punished by the Old Ones. How did you do it?” he yelled.

  “I didn’t think it would work. She said she’d do it without me. I had to help. I thought they’d be easier on her if they had me.”

  “It only worked because of you! She’s dead because it worked! You killed her!” I thought I was going to pass out again. I still hurt. I still felt on fire. I hurt so bad. Everywhere. “How did you do it?” he growled. He wasn’t just asking about how I had the Life Force to do it. He knew that answer. He was asking about the spell itself.

  “I can’t tell you. I can’t let anyone know. I can’t let it happen again. I can’t.” I was crying now.

  A hand touched my shoulder, and a firm voice said, “Stop. You don’t need to know. It would be best if nobody ever found out.”

  “If it’s possible, we need to know how,” my grandfather argued.

  “You don’t. The Old Ones obviously disapprove. It should be forgotten. We’re going back to our room. You will not ask about this again. She will do what she likes with the information.” His voice softened, and I looked up at Martun to see him looking down at me with soft, sad eyes. “Come on, Casey, you need some sleep.” He helped me up and then picked me up bridal style.

  I grabbed a fistful of his shirt and buried my head into his neck. “I’m so sorry, Martun,” I sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—”

  “I know,” he said. “I know. I don’t blame you, Casey.” He sounded distant. I didn’t know if I believed him.

  “I do,” I whispered.

  “Don’t.” He carried me up the stairs, and finally he laid me down on my bed. “Go to sleep. Soon you won’t be able to have a moment alone. Everyone will want to know everything about this. Sleep.”

  “Wait. Under the loose floorboard under Jane’s bed are my notes.” He walked over to her bed and wiggled it loose. I saw him walking back, looking through the papers with an awed look.

  “This is brilliant.” It was. Diagrams of which pathways to use, the type of magic, the proper percentage and mix of elements needed in the Life Force to make this happen. It was a lot and very exact. It was everything I had thought of, not just bringing back the dead, but everything.

  I took the papers from him, and lit a small flame in my other hand. “It is more than brilliant. It is revolutionary,” I said as I brought the flame to the papers and watched them burn. “And it is the most horrible thing I can think of,” I whispered.

  “DID IT work?” Regan asked.

  The flashback had been so fast, but felt like hours. “Yes,” I whispered.

  “How?”

  “I’m too smart for my own good. I could do more than I should have been able to. My power went further than it should have, and my limits were easier to break. The rules meant little to me back then. I could go further than them. I could do whatever I set my mind to, as long as I did it right. I used to create spells all the time.” I don’t know why I told her. I guess because Regan was one of the few people I trusted enough to talk to about this.

  “And now?”

  “I know that everyone has limitations. Everyone has a breaking point. I am not all powerful. I must follow the rules. Magic is dangerous, unpredictable, and shouldn’t be used for personal gain.” I sounded like a schoolteacher, but it was what I learned. I never broke the rules after that. I stayed in control. I never even got close to the borders of my control. I acted like every other mage; I acted like I had the same power as any other mage, because I didn’t trust myself to go further.

  Going further killed my friend.

  Going further almost killed me.

  I wouldn’t do it again.

  I wouldn’t go near having that happen again.

  I used to practice my control daily, just so I could keep magic from getting away from me, but I’ve had a little less time lately.

  I never thought of new spells. I learned everything from teachers and books.

  “Casey, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m fine, really. It was a few years ago, and I learned my lesson. They’re just scars.” I felt her finger run over one of them, and I started to pull away. I hated them. I didn’t want anyone to see them, let alone let Regan touch them. I didn’t want them. They were horrible.

  She pulled me back to her. “Casey.” Her voice was soft, warm, just like how she was every time it was just the two of us. “I’m not horrified by them. I’m not disgusted. They’re part of your past. They are a part of you. You don’t need to pull away. You never need to pull away. We all have scars, and not all of them are pretty.” She let go of me and pulled her shirt over her head. I tried not to ogle at the swell of her breasts and pretended that I wasn’t thinking about kissing and nibbling and a number of other things that were really not for the moment at hand. Instead I focused on her finger, which was on her abdomen. Damn, she was in shape.

  She was pointing to a jagged small circle on her stomach. “Someone who I thought was my friend shot me. He was really one of those mage haters and joined the Temple to kill a couple mages. He started heading toward a couple young mages, just learning how to build control. They were in the yard that day. He started going after them, and I jumped in front of the bullet to stop him. I shot him, but… he got one of the kids before I could get in front of him. He shot her in the head so they couldn’t save her. I was too slow to save her.” Regan wasn’t looking at me; she was looking at one of the walls.

  “It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know he would do that.” She nodded but didn’t say anything. She looked distant.

  I bit my lip and leaned down, letting my lips brush along the white scar. I pressed my lips against it and then sat back up to kiss her lips softly. “I think it shows how brave you are. You saved one of them. You didn’t need to take a bullet for them. I know plenty of other people who wouldn’t have.”

  She looked at me with a small, weak smile. She pressed her lips to my burned shoulder, and I grew stiff. She kept her lips there for a moment before she said, “You got these by bringing someone back. Your friend. If I could have done that for someone I lost, I would have. Forbidden or not. Don’t be ashamed of these, at least not with me. I think they’re… you. You would do anything for someone you love.” She kissed my shou
lder again. “You should get some sleep.”

  I nodded and slid under the cover, not even bothering to get undressed or get into more comfortable clothes. “Okay,” I murmured, still thinking about what she said about my scars.

  “You’re not supposed to sleep in that. Take it off, and I’ll get you a shirt to wear.” She pointed at my bra and then stood up. I watched her walk to the dresser and pull out two shirts. She was facing the other way, but I still found myself blushing madly as she unclipped her bra. I looked down at my lap and waited until I felt the bed dip beside me, and then I looked over to see Regan in a tank top and a pair of shorts.

  She held a shirt out to me and looked down at my bra as if to say “Well?”

  “Turn around,” I mumbled, taking the T-shirt from her.

  She rolled her eyes, but turned around. When I decided she really wasn’t going to look, I undid my bra and tossed it over to the basket we had obtained for dirty clothes, and then I hurriedly pulled on the shirt.

  “Okay,” I said when I was finished.

  She turned back around, and I got caught up in those eyes. Central heterochromia. They were beautiful.

  She pulled the blanket up over us and looped her arms around me. I felt her nose against the back of my neck for a moment, right where the top of one of my scars ended. “Good night, Casey,” she whispered before she kissed that scar lightly.

  “Good night,” I whispered back, not sure if I was comfortable or freaking out. I was with Regan, and I was always comfortable with her, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what happened. That whole… emotion thing. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t happen again. As much as I wanted to trust her and melt into her and be with her, I couldn’t.

  My necromancer friend was too much of a problem to get caught up in whatever this was with Regan.

  But it was nice. Being with Regan. It was really wonderful. I guess that was the sad part.

  Chapter 12