Magic Undying (Dragon's Gift: The Seeker #1)(38)

Magic thrummed, though, rich and strong. There were a lot of different signatures here—too many. Scents, tastes, even sounds. The demon had grown his army in the short time we’d been recovering.

But there was even residual magic in the cathedral. Something ancient. It vibrated along my skin, familiar.

“Del!” Roarke’s low voice was intense. “Move.”

I jerked, then hopped away, glancing back at where I’d been standing. Horror opened a chasm inside my chest.

Where I’d been standing, a shimmering blue glow was stretching across the ground. Just like back at the castle. As it grew, flat stone slabs appeared on the ground in place of the grass. Some were inscribed with names and dates.

The cathedral floor.

The glow extended up the broken-down cathedral walls. When it reached the top, it kept going. So did the walls, growing into their old form. Stained glass filled the hollowed-out windows, glinting in the moonlight.

My head buzzed as I tilted it back, watching as the glow raced overhead, leaving behind a ceiling supported by ornately carved stone arches.

Candles burst to life in their sconces on the wall, lighting the place with a golden glow. A partial wall appeared between us and the massive central part of the church. We were behind the altar now. Maybe. My understanding of cathedral architecture was a bit lacking.

“What the hell is going on?” Roarke asked. “The same enchantment as the one at Tintagel?”

Magic shivered along my skin. My mind raced. “Yeah.”

My magic roared inside me, like it was responding to the enchantment. It thrummed in my chest, vibrating like a massive engine ready to take off on a race to my destruction.

Was I doing this?

Roarke’s skeptical gaze met mine. My heart pounded. “Maybe that’s why the demon is here. He’s attracted to ancient places with this type of enchantment.”

It sounded slightly like bullshit. Maybe a lot like bullshit.

A shout sounded, distracting Roarke.

Thank magic.

Roarke whirled to locate the noise, and I did the same, drawing my sword from the sheath at my back. I nodded toward the pathways on either side of the obstruction in front of us.

We took the one to the right, creeping around. I looked up, satisfied to see that I was correct. We’d been behind the raised altar. Ahead of us, the cathedral stretched long and tall, a massive space dedicated to worship.

Two demons, both with burnished red skin like the other fire demons we’d seen, were standing in the main aisle, their heads craned toward the ceiling. Shocked, no doubt, by the sudden appearance of the abbey in its entirety.

A shout sounded from my left. “Oy! Come on, then!”

I glanced up at the altar. Two demons were shoving golden holy items into sacks. My dragon sense tugged toward the glittering gold, and my fingertips itched.

No. No matter how much my dragon soul coveted those golden treasures, they weren’t mine. And they sure as hell didn’t belong to those demons.

Beside me, Roarke’s magic swelled on the air—the scent of sandalwood and the taste of wine the most distinct. Swirling black mist surrounded him, and he shifted into his demon form. He took off into the air, his massive wings carrying him toward the demons in the aisle.

I leapt up the steps to the altar, charging the demons who were sweeping the holy relics into their bags. They were so distracted by the loot that they didn’t hear me coming.

“Resorting to petty thievery?” I swiped my sword at the neck of the tallest demon.

His head tumbled to the ground, and I whirled to see the other with his hand raised. Flame swirled around the big mitt and I grinned.

“Go on,” I taunted. “I bet I’m faster.”

He scowled and hurled it. I dodged, avoiding the firebomb by inches. It exploded into the stone wall behind me, as I’d hoped. I didn’t know if this cathedral was here to stay, but if it was, I didn’t want him firebombing anything flammable.

Before he could gather the magical energy to hurl another, I charged, leaping off a low bench and swinging my sword down on his shoulder. It cleaved him straight to the heart. Blood sprayed as I tried to leap out of the way, but it hit me in the neck.

Ew.

The demon tumbled like an oak, landing hard on the ground. I left him and his treasures on the ground. In a few minutes, his body would disappear, returning to the Underworld. I didn’t know what would happen to the golden artifacts, but I didn’t want to touch them. No reason to get my dragon soul even more excited.

I raced down the steps toward Roarke, who’d just broken the neck of the second demon. He stood between the pews, looking like a fallen angel, the cathedral soaring high above him.

Oh boy. Now I was getting poetic again about the Warden of the Underworld. That was no good.

I hurried to his side, jumping over the fallen body of one of the demons. His black gaze met mine, scary in its intensity. He was well into demon-lord mode now.

“Come on.” I pointed down the church, which was even longer than a football field. “The big one is that way.”

“He’s got more minions.” Roarke’s voice sounded dark and gravelly once again. He cracked his knuckles, looking ready to kill something.

I shivered. “Then we’ll get them, too.”

We hurried down the main aisle, our footsteps silent on the stone. Pews stretched out on either side of us, candles propped on the end of each. I hadn’t seen any ancient monks come back to life yet, thank goodness. Perhaps it was too late at night.