Lost Magic (The Swift Codex Book 3) by Nicolette Jinks Page B

gone again.
     
    Mordon simply said, “That was not me.”
     
    “If it was not you then who was it?!”
     
    The chief checked a grab for Mordon's shirt, evidently realizing that Mordon would not tolerate a physical touch.
     
    Through the filtered light in Mordon's hand, I caught a glimpse of movement on the wall. Thinking it was the shadow, I faced it full-on and realized that the movement wasn't a shadow. It was the slow, methodical appearance of dark lines against a pale gray wall. The lines started off faded and became intense, generating a light all their own. Then they faded, wrote more lines, and glowed again. One of the chief’s men put his hand behind his back; I was sure I didn't want to learn what he was about to do.
     
    “Look at the walls ,” I hissed.
     
    Everyone responded at once, checking the wall nearest them.
     
    Symbols showed in Mordon's light, shimmering, fading, and growing. As we heard the last breath leave one of the Blackwings, new symbols scratched into the drywall right beside two other recently made marks.
     
    “What is that?” the chief said. He struck a match, one which had abnormally powerful flames, and drew close to the wall. Cautiously he reached forward, touched the tip of a forefinger to a symbol. A bit came away on his hand. He tested it between thumb and forefinger, sniffed it. “This is blood.”
     
    Mordon eyed me warily. “ Fera, is it...?”
     
    I shivered. “An Unwritten. Colonial-era demonic. It's soul harvesting.”
     
    Mordon's light flickered, making raw energy jolt through my veins. I flinched, put my back against Mordon's side.
     
    A man cried out.
     
    Spells zinged through the air, illuminating the space with bursts of red and orange. The ceiling trembled and walls shook beneath the blows they sustained. I yelped, muffling it as best I could. Mordon took me by the shoulder and hauled us both behind the desk.
     
    A spell splintered one of the chairs with a great snapping noise. Wood tumbled across the floor. Heart drumming madly in my ears, I hid my head, sheltering Anna as best I could. Amazingly, Anna was sleeping through this.
     
    Silence followed.
     
    The Che if and his men started talking in hushed voices.
     
    “Who's it got?”
     
    “Paige and Ian, Sir.”
     
    He swore.
     
    I realized the walls were glowing again. I pried myself free from Mordon's tight grasp. Memories of Railey and me in this position years ago flitted through my mind. She'd been better about dissecting this spell, but I was competent enough. I found something that looked vital to the spell's ability to function.
     
    “Where'd they go? You can't escape me!” the Chief said.
     
    “Want a bet?” Mordon whispered. “Fera, compass?”
     
    It was in the diaper bag slung around my shoulders, an oversize purse that Lilly had given me. Of course, the compass was in a zipper pocket. For easy access.
     
    The zipper being drawn was so very loud.
     
    “What's that?” a Blackwing hissed.
     
    “Calm down, it's just me,” I snapped angrily, loud enough to hide some of the rustling.
     
    “Where are you?”
     
    “Hiding from your idiot spells. Spray and pray won't hold up against an Unwritten, you ignorant dolt,” I said.
     
    There was a second of silent. The clink of a chain as Mordon grabbed the compass and felt its face.
     
    “Dolt?” one of them asked.
     
    “It means you're dumb,” I said.
     
    A pause, then, “Dumb? Is that the best insult you know?”
     
    “I won't waste my breath on two whole syllables to describe you.”
     
    Mordon snorted, an attempt to abort a real laugh. I smiled to myself.
     
    Then the room temperature plummeted. I went still, trying to reach out to my magic. It wasn't responding. I knew that any spells I tried to cast right now wouldn't happen. I breathed shallowly, tensely waiting. My perspiration chilled, formed tiny droplets of ice. They stung as I brushed them off my arms.
     
    A man slammed into the wall with a sickening