Within These Wicked Walls(22)

“Magnus!” I called. He didn’t even twitch. “Wake up!” I waded across the room through the quickly rising blood, the shield of my amulet pushing the blood away from my body.

His chest was moving steadily, so I shook his shoulders, hard. Not a twitch. There was no way someone could sleep so heavily. Not naturally, anyway. Was this … part of the Manifestation?

I’d never seen paralysis like this. But then, I’d never seen a room fill with blood.

I climbed onto the bed and scooped his dead weight up by the shoulders to get his face away from the blood that was now working to consume the bed. And only when I pulled him to my chest and his body touched my amulet did he jolt awake with a frightened yell, shoving away from me.

He panted on the opposite side of the bed, blinking and staring as if he was doing his best to remember me. “Is it happening again?”

“We have to get out of this room,” I said. When he didn’t react, I grabbed his wrist. “Hurry!”

By then the blood was soaking the sheets, and Magnus jolted again, finally looking down at the scene. “It’s happening again,” he murmured, looking at me for help. “Oh my God.”

“I can’t lift you. Can you walk?”

“Yes, but—”

“Come with me.” I tugged him off the bed toward the door, and he followed without question. The blood was to our waists, and the sloshing and rising had worn down my shield significantly. I pulled at the door, but the pressure of the flowing blood kept it shut. Magnus joined my side without having to be asked, using his foot against the wall as leverage. It budged a little before slamming right back.

“Oh my God,” he said again, more panicked this time.

“Calm down,” I said, more for myself than for him. I’d never been buried in blood before, but I imagined it was just like any Manifestation. As long as my amulet could last—

I looked down at myself. My shield reached only about five inches beyond me in all directions, but it was enough to give me an idea.

“Count to ten and then pull as hard as you can.”

“We can’t wait, it’s rising too quickly—”

“You have to trust me, Magnus. Just do it.”

Magnus was trembling—I don’t know if it was from the freezing blood or fear, but his eyes were wide. “One…” he said weakly, “two…” and he positioned himself to pull the door.

“Three,” I counted with him. I dropped down into the sea of blood, blocking out his four.

My amulet kept my face clear of drowning. I reached forward with my free hand and felt for the door. If I could use the clear space my amulet provided to relieve some of the pressure from the lower part of the door, it was sure to open more easily.

At least I hope.

It had to be seven by now … eight … nine—

My count was off, and the door shot open sooner than I’d prepared for. I didn’t have time to think about it, wedging my foot and arm behind the door, catching the wood in my hands as it flew back just in time before slapping into my face. That jolt had been enough to break my shield completely, and I held my breath and closed my eyes as blood enveloped me. Magnus’s legs knocked into me as he shifted, the door pressing away from me, opening more and more with the small crack I’d given him as leverage.

The more it crept open, the more I crept toward the hall, pressing my shoulder into the door. I gasped for breath as I emerged from the room into the hall, spitting out blood that ran down my face and hair, while the sea stayed within the confines of the doorway. I got to my feet to gain more balance and rammed my shoulder into the door. Magnus eased out his leg. I rammed again, and his upper half leaned out, and he gasped as I had, though his breaths were a little more panicked. I continued until he was clear of the door, standing in the hall with me, holding the door against the liquid mass.

“We’re going to let go at the count of three,” I said, and he didn’t argue. “One.”

“Two,” he counted with me. “Three!”

We tumbled back, the force of the rising blood slamming the door behind us. The floor knocked the wind out of me, and I gasped a few times to gather my breath. We lay on the ground, our cold, sopping-wet clothing sticking to us. I wiped my face quickly to keep the blood out of my eyes, giving myself a moment to catch my breath. I suddenly realized we were holding on to each other, and I let go of him quickly.

“We’re okay,” I said, feeling stiff and cold, and his grip wasn’t helping. “Let go.”

He did so, immediately folding into himself and shivering. We lay facing each other. For some reason that felt intimate, so I rolled and splatted onto my back.

“Is there an amulet for this?” he asked, panting.

“There’s an amulet for everything.”

I shoved myself to my feet and hurried down the hall, leaving a red trail behind me. I grabbed the entire basket of supplies instead of trying to sort through everything in my dark room. When I slipped to a stop back in front of Magnus’s room, he was standing eying the door, as if it might burst open at any moment. But when I sat down with the basket, so did he, hugging his wet clothes to him, teeth chattering.

It was so cold I had a hard time keeping my pen steady. Magnus went in another room and brought out a heavy blanket and an oil lamp and, after a moment, I could continue. Soon droplets of blood started escaping from our bodies, away from the forming amulet. First in drops, then in splatters, skittering across the ground and under the door of his room. Inside, the blood roared like a stormy sea, and there was a gurgling sound, like the unplugging of a drain.