was?—and pressed it into his skin while I held the shape of it, the intent of it, clear in my mind’s eye.
Corporations hired a bevy of casters to do these sorts of spells, and were supposed to Offload their magic use to the legally accepted outlets like prisons and the regulated Proxy pits.
There were also people who made their living free lancing as full-time Proxies. Short, high-paying career if it didn’t kill you. Some people were into that kind of pain and abuse.
Shamus looked like he might be one of those people.
His lips were parted and he held the tip of his tongue between his teeth. I hesitated, wondering if the Proxy had connected. It had been a long time since I’d done this. He nodded slightly, letting me know we were okay so far.
“Good,” Maeve said. “Now access as much magic as you can from the well beneath the room. Cast the strongest Lightning spell that you can.”
Oh, she had to be kidding. “I’ll blow the walls out.”
“I’d like to see you do it.” She really did sound curious.
“No. It would kill him.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Maeve said firmly. “Now cast Lightning.”
She didn’t look worried. I noted she had both hands held at ready to cast—probably Cancel or Hold or some other negating spell. Hells, maybe she had a pocket full of rocks she could throw at the spell if she had to.
Okay, fine.
Back to the jump rope song, back to clearing my mind. I traced a glyph in the air in front of me. A very different glyph this time. Lightning wasn’t as pointed as Proxy. It flowed in a series of broken lines and arches.
Magic rolled in me, painful, sharp. But that was just the magic that I held inside of me. The other magic, the magic in the deep well beneath us, I had been very careful not to touch.
I took a short breath, braced for the torrent, and tapped into the well. Magic stormed through me like heat through a lightning rod, riding my bones, my blood, my flesh. I burned with it, shook with it, tasted the scorched earth of it thick and hot at the back of my throat. I held my focus, directed the magic pouring through the colored whorls down my arm to my fingertips, fingertips that glowed neon blue with an afterimage of soft rose, into the glyph I continued to trace. Magic spun from my fingers.
The corners of the room fell into shadow. Lights dimmed, went out. The spell raged against the room, burning and arching against the Blocks and Wards and glyphs worked into the walls, floor, ceiling. Wild electricity struck and was sucked into Shields and Wards that were deeper and more complex than I’d ever seen.
And still more lightning poured from my hands.
Shamus groaned, swayed, taking the full painful price of my using so much magic. He did not fall. That man was tougher than he looked. Magic exacted an equal pain for power. This strong of a spell should have knocked him unconscious.
Now I understood why there were no windows. Now I understood why Maeve had wanted to teach me here, have me access power here. This room was built like a vault. What came into it stayed in it.
Even my spell.
Magic poured through me, feeding the spell, growing it larger and larger. I think Maeve and I realized at the same time that while the spell was going to stay in the room, if it continued to grow, to feed on itself, there wouldn’t be room for the rest of us in here.
There wouldn’t be any room to breathe.
I was trapped, suffocating. My heart pounded. There was no room to breathe.
Hello, claustrophobia. I wondered when you’d get here.
I met Maeve’s gaze. The walls shook, assailed by a thousand fists. The floorboards creaked, trembled.
We were in trouble.
“Close it,” Maeve said, her voice strong, pitched loud enough to carry over the din of the spell.
“I don’t know how.” And that was true. I had never cast with so much magic behind a spell, had never really cast this spell, as there isn’t that much use for Lightning in Hounding.
And yet I had cast it perfectly. As if I’d done it a thousand times before.
Child’s play. It was only a whisper, but my dad’s voice was the loudest thing in the room. Although I was pretty sure I was the only one who heard him.
It is easy, Allison, he breathed. So easy. Inhale, exhale. Relax.
Sweet hells.