The Prof Croft Series: Books 0-4 (Prof Croft Box Sets Book 1) Brad Magnarella (ink book reader txt) 📖

between our worlds. In one hand he held a wand while with his other, he fashioned a warding sign. His lips moved in a chant, but above the tearing noise, I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“Respingere!” Connell cried. A current of blinding white energy ripped from his wand and exploded into Lich.

The other magic-users began to cast as well, streams colliding into the portal like ribbons of lightning. Within seconds a harsh scent of ozone filled the air—and no wonder. These were centuries-old practitioners unleashing some of the most powerful magic I’d ever witnessed. Any contribution I made would be puny in comparison.

I readied my cane anyway, squinting at the flashing impact site where Lich had been emerging. How much more magic could his defenses withstand? They surely had to be faltering, I thought, though with more hope than conviction. Lich was a first-generation magic-user and drawing power from a being more ancient than the oldest saints, a being that hungered for chaos.

A black tentacle shot from the exploding light and wrapped around a female practitioner’s throat. She dropped her wand as the tentacle hoisted her into the air. Another tentacle twisted itself into a man’s long blond hair and jerked him from his feet. He shouted above the noise.

I sprinted toward the woman, who was closer. I instinctively pulled on my sword handle, forgetting that Lich’s magic had entrapped the blade inside the staff. It refused to release.

Switching my grip, I aimed the cane at the tentacle and shouted, “Vigore!”

Much like what had happened in Lazlo’s cellar, the power that emanated from the cane passed through the tentacle as though it wasn’t there. More tentacles shot by me. Shouts and choked screams punctuated the riot of noise. As magic-users flailed, the streams of energy from their wands dwindled until I could see Lich again.

He was larger now, closer. His wand and hand were maintaining a protective field while writhing tentacles sprouted from his back. Without the Elder book to staunch the flow of Dhuul’s influence, Lich was stronger than the last time he had come through, as Chicory.

He might actually overpower them this time, I thought.

Savage barking sounded, and several of the Refuge’s mastiffs broke past me. Connell tried to shout them back, but they took no heed. They changed as they sprinted, white flames enveloping their muscular forms, making them appear larger, more mythic. One by one, they leaped at the portal, at Lich, only to burst apart. White flames rained around the clearing.

“Submit to the power of Dhuul!” Lich called, his molars bulging through the skin of his jaw. “Submit and all will be forgiven! I will take you with me! I will make you all immortals!”

The tentacles extending from his back gave a hard wrench. A pair of sick crunches sounded, and the woman and blond-haired man he had first seized plummeted to the ground.

“The alternative is death,” he finished.

Anger exploded through me and emerged from my lungs as a “Forza dura!”

I thrust the cane toward Lich. Somewhere beneath my storm of emotions, I knew it was a futile act. But this was the mage who had murdered my mother, who had watched her burn, and who continued to flaunt his disregard for life. My invocation was as spontaneous as it would no doubt prove ineffective.

But the force that burst from my cane staggered the mage. I blinked for a second. I hadn’t imagined it. Lich had taken a step back, tentacles recoiling. And the look on his face… What remained of Grandpa’s enchantment had hurt the son of a bitch.

I gathered my breath for another blast, but before I could release the Word, a tentacle lashed toward me. I swung the cane into its path. The tentacle caught it, wrapping the opal end.

“Respingere!” I cried, struggling to hold on.

Light and force pulsed from the opal, but the tentacle smothered both. I leaned from its muscular pull, the heels of my shoes digging into the ground. As the tentacle writhed toward my white-knuckled grip, I began to feel Lich’s warping power, began to feel my thoughts pulling at the seams, threatening to burst into violence and disorder. A straining whine emerged from between my clenched teeth as I fought to hold onto the cane as well as my sanity.

No matter what, something was telling me, you cannot lose your sword and staff.

Lich was staring down at me, the vessels throbbing over his head. A grim determination creased his face, even as more magic-users arrived and fresh energy collided into his shield. I was practically sitting now, like the anchor in a game of tug-of-war, my palms on fire. The tentacle wound toward my cramping hands. My grip slipped to the end of the cane handle.

And the blade slid free.

I fell onto my back. The tentacle whipped back toward the portal, clutching my staff. I heard magic-users thud down around me as the remaining tentacles released them. The tentacles disappeared into the portal along with Lich as the final emanations from the magic-users closed the opening.

Smoke drifted through the silent clearing.

Someone coughed. I looked from my naked blade toward the sound to find one of the magic-users who had been hoisted up writhing on the ground, clutching her throat. A green-black bruising stained the skin around her neck. Her eyes bugged madly from her face.

Arianna rushed to her and spoke a healing incantation. Moments later, light from her wand enveloped the woman. When the light receded, the woman was gone, transported to the palace to be purged of Whisperer magic. Several others who had been injured were treated similarly by other magic-users.

“That was some crazy-ass shit,” James said, coming up beside me, smoke curling from the end of his wand.

I nodded numbly as we watched the two who had been killed being covered with manifested sheets. Beyond them, a graying magic-user stooped to recover his wand. I watched him closely, wondering if he was Marlow, my father.

“Are you two all right?” Connell asked.

“I’m fine,” I said,