Page 150 of Malcroix Bones Academy
The hooded figure walked through the mirror behind me. I turned to look, but immediately, my vision swam with gold and green light, cutting off my view of their face, even the shape of their hands. All I could see was the dark outline of the black robe.
“Be silent, creature!” a harsh voice hissed at the woman. “Go!”
The red-haired woman jumped like she’d been hit with a cattle prod, and toddled off to the door out of the toilets. She clutched her purse in front of her and didn’t look back.
I saw a faint shimmer behind the dark robe as the glass reformed in the floor-length mirror. Mirror. My blurred mind finally put that much together.
We’d mirrored somewhere.
Could I go back, if I made a break for the wall?
Even as I thought it, the hooded figure aimed a hand towards the tarnished glass. A pulse of blue light left their fingers, and the mirror shattered with a loudcrack.I winced as slivers nicked my arms from the exploding glass, but most of it got pulverized as it fell to the dingy floor.
My throat closed in panic, and the hand closed back punishingly on my arm. Pain snaked through my blood, and that smoke-like magic began manipulating my limbs. It hurt more now, but once again, I couldn’t move my throat, or speak. I was marching towards the door of the dingy loo in seconds, and then past it, into a darker, much more crowded space.
My eyes darted around as I fought to breathe, to break free of the magic.
I desperately wanted to call for help.
I fought to force out a cry, a scream, anything, but couldn’t.
Everyone in the dark, musky-smelling pub seemed to be looking at me, but none noticed or cared about the hooded figure gripping my arm. I heard a few laughs aimed in my direction, a few whistles at my bare thighs, but no concern as my captor marched me past the bar.
We reached another door and walked through.
I stumbled away from the pub door, and found myself on what had to be a city street, my sandals jarring on the cobblestones.
I felt free… briefly.
Then hard fingers gripped my bare bicep just below one of the gold armbands I still wore. The robed figured yanked harder when I tried to resist, and began marching me down the street when I continued to struggle. I blinked and half-stumbled into what looked like… gods, that looked and felt like a parked car.
I saw what had to be headlights on the road, and it hit me they must behumancars.
Renewed panic nearly made me trip over my own feet. The hooded figure forced me upright with pain and magic, then shoved me closer to the road a second time.
Before I could make sense of what was happening, or see enough through the green and gold light to know where I was being taken, I was being crammed and folded through an opening and onto a stiff, plastic-feeling seat. The busted springs squeaked loudly when I landed on them, then I was by a door, and a light-filled window.
This was familiar.
All of this was too familiar.
It was also entirely wrong.
I couldn’t be here.
I’d end up in Magical prison for being here. Or dead.
They might actuallykillme for this. Isn’t that what everyone said? Isn’t that what Caelum told me when I asked if there was any way to get to Overworld without the Praecuri or the other Magical authorities finding out? They likely already knew I was here, since it had been my hand that opened that mirror door.
They wouldn’t muck around with a mongrel like me. I wouldn’t get the consideration even my mother had gotten from the public or the government, as a praecurus and a full-blooded Magical. They’d just put me down.
I leaned my head against the car’s window, fighting nausea, staring out at city lights I couldn’t make sense of through the green and gold fog around my head. My skull pounded. I squinted at the person next to me, but my vision only slanted out more whenever I tried to focus on their face. I could only see a blur on the seat, and a silvery-blue light on the floor.
I knew where I was, though. I was in a taxi.
My mind conjured the word, and latched onto it.
I was in a taxi.
