“How did you get in here, boy?” his father demands.
“We walked in here. You didn’t think your fake wall illusion was good, did you?” Sly taunts.
I squeeze his hand, trying to caution him against angering his family.
“Nice to see you’re mourning the dead,” he throws out.
I see his mother flinch, but no one comments about the fatalities.
“Why is he with you?” Swayne sneers my way.
“I couldn’t let my husband have all the fun now, could I?” I pause and look casually around. “Such a nice place you’ve got here.” As I’m looking, I see a weird device in the corner of the room. My magic tells me all our missing magic is in that device.
“You’re not really married. I tried to tell you earlier, Sylvester, that he used his light magic to brainwash you into thinking you were,” his mother said, moving to stand next to her husband.
Where Sly and his father are dark-haired, his mother has the most awful dyed purple hair. I would sue whoever did that dye job, because it’s patchy, with some sections vibrant purple, and others dull, neither of which suits her. She’s also wearing a hippy outfit in the most unbecoming yellow I’ve ever seen. Thank goodness Sly didn’t inherit her fashion sense.
“Have you ever considered that Sly actually brainwashed me into thinking we were married?” I ask them.
Sly smirks at me. “Took you long enough to realise.”
I laugh. “I know, my bad.”
“Enough,” his father shouts, taking a step forward. “You two coming here is perfect, simply perfect. You’re trapped in here,no matter what you do, you can’t escape this room, and in a few moments, we will drain the magic out of both of you.”
As he’s talking, his family members move around and surround us.
Now would be a good time to call for help. I send an SOS to the others upstairs, telling them where we are and hoping my magic finds them and doesn’t get sucked into that device.
“How are you planning to do that, Father?” He lets go of my hand and moves a few paces away from me. “Even if you combine all your magic, you still won’t even come close to what Ebby and I have.”
“You’re so full of yourself, Sylvester. We have help,” Swayne spits out, hatred spewing from his eyes.
“Your pet demon helping you, is he?” I just throw that out there.
“Indeed. He will be so happy to receive your magic, plus the magic we captured earlier,” his father tells us, waving at the box and smiling like a loon.
“Is this demon Waylon or one of his brothers?” I ask. I’m sure I remember the witchlings saying they still had one or two demons left to deal with.
“Where would be the fun in telling you that, Ebenezer?” his mother asks.
“Even your name is stupid,” Swayne comments.
“Yeah, because Swine is so much better,” Sly responds before I can.
“It’s Swayne,” he shouts, as he flings his hand at Sly and mutters a word.
I see his magic as dark sparkles rushing towards Sly, and I flick my hand, reversing it and sending it back. I quietly laugh to myself when I see that Sly has done the same.
Swayne’s magic hits him right in the middle of his chest, and he goes flying back into a wall, then slides down groaning.
“Attack,” his father shouts, and suddenly a barrage of spells start flying at us.
Sly and I respond in kind and dodge spells as much as we can in this enclosed space. We throw our magic out, blocking spells and sending them to our attackers, along with the odd punch for good measure.
Suddenly, I’m jumped from behind and fall to the floor, momentarily stunned.
I hear Sly yell out in anger, but before I can do anything, I feel a sharp pain in my head, and everything goes black.
