Nocturna (A Forgery of Magic #1)(60)

“I can’t.” Each word sounded as if it’d been pulled up from a deep well, hand over hand.

Alfie bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of what to say. She was afraid and so was he, but he needed her help to save his kingdom. Ignacio housed the core of magic he’d released, and Finn knew him. She might know his weaknesses. Maybe she could draw him to her so that Alfie could try to trap the magic again? The man promised to find her, so keeping Finn at his side all but guaranteed another chance at trapping the magic within him. He couldn’t do this without her.

He stepped closer to her stiff back. “Finn, please listen—”

She spun on him, shoving him hard against the alley wall. With a twist of her hands, coils of rock wrapped about Alfie’s wrists, waist, and ankles, securing him tight against the wall.

It all happened so fast that he could not process it. He fell still with shock. Why was she trapping him like this when a moment ago he’d gotten on his knees beside her, prepared to die?

“Finn,” he said, betrayal burning his words, curling them at the edges. “Why?”

She looked at him, her dark eyes blown wide with fear. She opened her mouth to speak and he knew what she meant to say—I’m sorry. But she pressed her mouth closed in a quivering line instead. Somehow that made the words louder still, as if she’d shouted them. She reached behind her head and pulled the hood of the vanishing cloak up, disappearing from sight.

“Finn! Wait!” Alfie shouted, but she did not reappear. Alfie looked at the stone coils holding him down. “Romper!” With each repetition, pieces of rock broke away from him. He pushed off the wall, his body crying out in pain from Ignacio and using the dark magic. He hurried through the Brim. Using his propio, he searched the milling crowds for her red magic, but she was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know what to do. He needed her. Not only because she knew Ignacio and could help Alfie stop him, but also because she was the only other person who’d seen what he’d seen, who could tell him that the fear surging through him was valid and real. And now she was gone. How would he find her?

Alfie ducked back into the empty alley where she’d trapped him. He healed his broken fingers and the wound on the back of his head. He needed a moment of quiet away from the crowds of the Brim, a moment to calm himself. His stomach knotted in guilt at the thought of using Finn as bait to draw Ignacio, but he had no time for guilt now. He needed to focus. He didn’t even know the magic’s goal. Did it simply want to reduce Castallan to black dust?

The slap of a skipping rope against the cobbled ground forced him out of his thoughts. A quartet of girls and boys were jumping rope, two of them turning the ropes while the others jumped.

The Black King, turned to bone,

In your heart he’ll make his home

Your eyes will bleed, your soul burned black,

At his feet, you’ll bend your back

So hurry little ones, off to bed!

Lest Sombra wake and take your head!

They sang it over and over again, spinning the rope faster until it snapped against a boy’s ankle, ending the game in a fit of giggles. Alfie’s pulse roared in his ears.

The magic’s goal was there, in the song that the black-eyed man had sung in the pub. It wanted to bring Sombra back, to find the bones he’d been reduced to and unite them once more. Alfie could hardly breathe. His desperation to save Luka might bring to life the villain that gave him nightmares as a child—Sombra himself. His stomach roiled. He put his hand over his eyes, willing himself not to be sick in this alley.

The legend spoke of bruxos parting the god and his dark magic, thus turning his body to bones, bones spread throughout the world over so that they could never be reunited with the magic, so that Sombra could never be awakened.

This dark magic was working to find Sombra’s bones, to restore his body. To bring about Nocturna—an unraveling of all things good.

Svana had asked Paloma if she’d checked on “the pieces” in Castallan. She must have been talking about pieces of Sombra’s body—the body of the dark god of legend.

Alfie’s mind spun with possibilities, new fears to consider, new paths to explore. Should he try to find the pieces of Sombra’s body and destroy them? Was that even possible? Where would he begin? The bones could be anywhere in the world. There were too many options. No, his best chance was to stop the magic before it found Sombra’s bones and awakened him.

A shiver skittered up his spine at the thought.

“Focus,” he told himself. He could not let himself spiral into fear now. He was uncertain of many things, but he knew he needed to find Finn. She would be the key to drawing Ignacio to her once he had a plan to trap the magic once more—if he could find her. Then a thought flickered to life in Alfie’s mind.

Alfie pulled Finn’s journal out of his pocket. Ever since he’d discovered it in his bag after their battle over the books, he’d found himself carrying it around in his pocket, thumbing through the sketched faces, wondering about the girl who’d drawn them and knocked him clean off his feet. Luckily for him, this book was exactly what he needed to find her.

He let his own magic darken into that wine red of hers. With her journal he should be able to get to her, even if it was somewhere he’d never been, but he needed to concentrate. Moving through the channels of magic was tricky, trickier still when using object transport. If he didn’t keep a clear head, things could go wrong. As a child, he’d tried to haphazardly transport and found himself stuck in a laundry chute instead of the library. If he wasn’t careful, he might find himself stuck between places or worse. He wasn’t even sure of all the consequences. He was the only person who could do this, thanks to his propio, so he didn’t know to what extent he could mess up. He supposed he’d be finding out.