Page 53 of A Door in the Dark
“Too slick,” Ren grunted, slipping down a third time. “We need to use rope spells for this.”
All four of them were crowded on a slender shelf of stone. There was a nauseating view of the stretching green valley below with stone hilltops scattered throughout. Their view of the surrounding mountains had been reduced and narrowed to their current obstacle—a curving path of ice that led to yet another ledge. Fog curled in and out of everything, obscuring their view beyond that. Vega watched them from above with hooded eyes.
“We’ll need to set anchor points.” Theo gestured. “There and there and there.”
Ren nodded. “Do you know how to do that?”
He’d been an image of humility for the last few hours. Her question finally dragged the haughtiness back to the surface. “Yes, I know how to make anchor points.”
She still watched closely as his magic took shape. Checked to make sure each anchor was driven deep in the stone, rather than the surface-level ice. He wove another thread of unseen magic carefully through the invisible anchors before tying everything off with a knotting spell. She wouldn’t have done anything differently, except that she could summon each spell much faster. He shot a look in her direction for approval and she nodded.
“Steadfast charms,” she said to the others. “Timmons, if you’ll amplify, we can use the elementary version to keep our feet steady on the ice. Everyone got it?”
Nods all around. She felt that familiar surge in her magic as Timmons lent them strength. A steadfast charm didn’t offer perfect footing, but it would eliminate minor slips. Theo set his feet, tested out the first chunk of ice, then moved hand over hand up the incline. After he’d gone up a few paces, he looked back and handed off the invisible line to her. Ren reached out. He’d textured the spell to feel like an old sailing rope. She could sense the grainy fibers rubbing against her palm. She got a solid grip and started climbing, trying to ignore the waves of nausea as her body leaned in a perpendicular angle to the ground. Cora came on her heels. She was followed by Timmons, who muttered curses every few steps. Their added weight had the invisible rope flexing taut.
“First anchor is right here,” Theo called back. “Just reach around it.”
He slid his hand to the right, found the next run of invisible rope, and settled his grip. Ren watched him start moving diagonally to their right, following the icy trail. She repeated his motions. Her stomach lurched as she switched over. Statistically it was the most dangerous part of any climb. They were about fifteen paces above the stone shelf now.
“Well, I’m never going mountain climbing again,” Ren whispered.
Timmons snorted. “Reminds me of those inspirational speakers Balmerick is always bringing in. Bloody pioneers climbing mountains just for fun. Teachers were always trying to make a lesson out of it. ‘What’s your Watcher Mountain? What obstacle do you want to overcome this semester?’ ”
Ren let out a nervous laugh. “Right now, my Watcher Mountain is Watcher Mountain.”
Timmons snorted again as Theo finally reached the upper ledge. Ren was still a few paces behind when she felt something. Like a sharp fingernail scratching at the door of her mind. The sound dragged at her senses. She made the mistake of opening that mental door and heard a familiar voice whisper: I am hungry. You are food.
Theo was holding out a hand, waiting for her to take it. Ren ignored it, whipping her head around to look. Cora was below her, desperately clinging to the rope. There was fear in her eyes. She’d heard the voice too. Clyde was coming.
“Timmons!” Ren called. “Summon a retreating ward. Now!”
Gravity was tugging her friend’s silver-white hair into a bright stream. It pointed back to the ledge they’d left behind. Ren watched her scramble for the wand at her belt. A shadow approached from below. Clyde had transformed. His skin was still a patchwork of burns and scars, but he’d grown unnaturally since they’d last seen him. At least a full head taller. His shoulders broad with muscle. He ignored Theo’s rope, climbing from stone to stone with impossible agility. Timmons was still fumbling for her wand. Ren saw she wasn’t going to be able to cast the spell in time.
“Cora. Get down!”
The girl pressed her body to the rocky shelf. Ren took aim. Thought, spell, magic. A bolt of fire burst from the tip of her wand. It whipped past Timmons and struck Clyde’s shoulder just as he got close enough to swipe at her. His bare feet slid back down the ice, but he lashed out desperately. His hands caught the invisible rope. The entire length shook, jolting all of them. Clyde let out a hissing snarl. Timmons raised her wand at the exact moment he thrust out his hand.
His magic breathed through the air, dark and pulsing and hungry. Timmons’s spell was like a dash of sunlight by comparison. Retreating charms were mental shields. The spell created a false layer—a sort of catch-point—for any magic that attacked it. Ren watched both spells form in the air, on the verge of collision. And then she let out a surprised cry when her friend’s spell fizzled. It was a botched summoning.
Timmons’s eyes swung back to Ren. “Help me.”
And then Clyde’s spell struck. Those beautiful eyes fluttered shut. Ren raised her wand, ready to cast another projectile spell, when the magic did the unthinkable. It leapt through the air. From Timmons to Cora in a breath.
A chain spell, Ren realized. It’s a chain spell.
The next logical step happened before Ren could think to summon her own ward. The spell hit her square in the chest, and the world slipped away.…
A hand was on her shoulder, the grip sinking in like teeth. She was forced to look down at the sight of her father, bent wrongways in the belly of the canal. But… but… but… Clyde. This was Clyde. He was doing this to her. Think, Ren. Think! The theory of functional opposition. He’s using… my mind… to stop my body.…
Ren broke free of the spell just in time to watch Timmons fall.
Her arms spread wide and she fell back with all the grace of an angel. Her body hit the stone ledge with a sickening thud. Clyde leapt down from his position and landed next to her. Ren’s mind was still untangling as the monster crouched over her best friend.
A bolt of magic cut through the air. Theo struck true. His spell hit the back of Clyde’s shoulder with enough force to send him stumbling toward the edge. The burned arms wheeled. Ren screamed, though, when he reached out for something to steady himself. His hands found the only thing in range: Timmons. Her beautiful silver-white hair.
Momentum took them both over the cliff, rag-dolling out of sight. Ren felt one final slash of Clyde’s magic. It plunged knifelike through that spot in the back of her mind. It was so painful that her hands let go of the rope. Gravity snared her.…
“Ren. Get up. You’re crushing me.”
