Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(53)

The corpse’s shoulder twitched beneath his hand.

Alfie wrenched his hand away and shot to his feet. The magic was going to rise out of the body again. This time he would get it right. He would seal it. The body convulsed against the floor, sloshing in its own blood. It trembled against the shards of glass littered on the ground, sounding like nails scraping a chalkboard

It wasn’t the body that was moving but the dark magic within it, fighting to get out, like a parasite caught in a dead host. A body with a still heart was of no use to it. Alfie killing this man was forcing the magic to escape once more, in search of a new home.

The dead man’s jaw slackened, easing open. A thick, black smoke oozed out of the bloodied mouth like dark sap from a tree. Alfie’s thoughts shaved down to a sliver of panic, and he could barely string a thought together as the corpse seized and belched more and more dark magic, its back arching from the effort.

He had to contain it somehow. There had to be truth in that Englassen book. It was his only hope of ending this.

“It didn’t work then, it’s not going to work now! We have to go!” Finn shouted beside him as darkness oozed out of the body. She tried to pull him away again, but he remained rooted to the floor. She looked up at him, incredulous. “You’d really give your life for this?”

Alfie’s grip on the dragon tightened. When he looked down at her, he didn’t try to mask the fear that racked his body. Let at least one person know that fear would not stop him. “Is there nothing you would give yours for?”

Finn looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “You’ve lost your maldito mind.”

Alfie trained his gaze back on the magic pouring out of the body like pus from an abscess. He was terrified of it, but he was more afraid of who he would become if he let it run free. This was his responsibility. He would die here before he ran away like a coward.

Like a coward who would stab a man in the back.

“You’re an idiot.” She backed away from him, stepping around a broken bar stool as she pulled daggers from her belt. Alfie could swear he heard respect hidden deep in the insult. “You’re brave, but you’re an idiot.”

The darkness swirled before him. His body grew numb and cold at the sight of it, blacker than any shade he’d ever produced.

An idea flickered to life in Alfie’s mind like a struck match.

“Magic of the same color always flows together,” he said, conjuring Paloma’s calm.

“This isn’t the time for a maldito magic lesson!” Finn snapped from behind him.

“Hush!”

Magic of the same color always flowed together. This was a fact he’d seen with his own eyes while watching people’s magic permeate the air in ribbons of color. This was how his propio worked, how he was able to weave his own magic into someone else’s. If this black magic saw a magic of its own shade, it might follow it, try to stick with it, maybe even obey it. It would make sense. Maybe that was what he needed to do to seal it away.

Alfie let his magic deepen to a pitch as black as he could get it. With the dragon held tight in his palm, Alfie let his newly darkened magic envelop it. The black magic that oozed from the body seemed to take notice and moved excitedly at the sight. It slithered through the air, away from the corpse and into the dragon’s open mouth as if it had found its brethren. Alfie felt the little dragon grow warm in his hand. The magic stayed in it, as if waiting for Alfie’s word. His command.

His magic still black as night, Alfie pressed the bloodied tip of his thumb against the dragon with all his might and shouted again, “Cerrar!”

He shut his eyes, expecting the black magic to recognize his trick and swallow him whole. But it didn’t. The dragon only hummed in his palm, warm with energy.

Alfie slumped against the bar, pulling the dragon chain around his neck. Somehow, he’d done it. Maybe, just maybe, things would be all right after all. Maybe he could fix this.

As if in answer to that fantasy, the corpse collapsed in on itself, skin blackening and sloughing away until the body was nothing but a pile of ash.

As the ashes flew up his nostrils, Alfie’s stomach twisted at the scent of burnt flesh, a life and all its possibilities snuffed out in one fell swoop.

Or maybe nothing would ever be all right again.

Then Finn was crouching at his side, her back leaned against one of the only small round tables left upright in the pub, spared from the chaos that had unfolded here. “It worked?”

Alfie squeezed the dragon that sat warm against his chest. “I—I think so.”

“So that’s it, then? We caught it?” He heard a lilt of hope in her voice and Alfie couldn’t help but cling to it. “We’re done?”

His bloodied hand still wrapped tight around the dragon, Alfie took in a shaky breath. He would not have to bear looks of shame from Paloma and his parents. No one else would die because of his foolish mistake. He could present himself at the ball tomorrow night with his head held high, with the promise that he would protect his kingdom’s future instead of endangering it. Alfie whisked a hand over his eyes. “We did it.”

Now he needed only to figure out where to keep this foul magic so that no one else would find it. But that dilemma sounded like a holiday compared with what they’d just endured.

Finn nodded, her shoulders sagging in relief. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”