Novels2Search
Lost Magic
Chapter One Hundred Nineteen

Chapter One Hundred Nineteen

Romeo was in his element.

In all honesty he didn't like fighting with swords. He found them too clunky and tedious to work with. Growing up in Dumas he had disappointed his parents time and time again by flat out refusing to practice with a blade, preferring instead to sneak out to the fighting pits in the slums. The skill level might not have been the highest by the gods did it make him feel alive in a way that that high court duels never did.

The men of the fighting pits didn’t care who he was, or who his parents were. They didn’t care about social status expectations. They only cared about winning in that moment and Romeo desperately wanted to feel the same way.

It also didn't hurt that the young noble women of the court found his many cuts and bruises to be particularly dashing.

His fists were the only weapons he needed as he swept through the wave of guards, his hands flashing with magic. A single punch, aided by a good surge of electricity, was more than enough to drop most of them. Those who wouldn’t go down with one sure as hell went down with two.

"Make sure you don't kill anyone! They're probably being controlled like you were," Banksy warned as Romeo grabbed an attacker by the head and smashed him against the wall. Banksy winced at the small crack that appeared in the wall along with a generous portion of fresh blood.

"He won't die!" Romeo yelled back as he kicked the downed man hard in the ribs. He turned as another group of guards rushed into the room, a few armed with short swords. "We might, though."

Clapping his hands together he prepared to send a wave of electricity towards the newcomers when he felt his legs go weak. Staggering to the side he caught himself on the wall and grabbed at his chest.

"What's wrong?" Banksy said as he grabbed a vase from a nearby table and launched it at the approaching line of swordsmen.

"I…" Romeo shook his head as his eyes started to go black. His knees gave out and he crashed to the ground. His heart wasn’t hammering in his chest. No, far from it. Was it even beating? "I think… I overdid it."

"Then stop using magic, idiot!" Banksy grunted as he grabbed a small table and flipped it over. Kicking out his foot he managed to break off one of the legs and held it up defensively as a club as the nearest guard reached him. Pushing past Romeo, Banksy swung wildly and the guard took a step back before thrusting forward and knocking Banksy's clumsy attack to the side. Banksy's eyes closed as the sword was lifted up high to deliver a fatal blow.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Romeo roared as he shot up from the floor and caught the guard by the wrist. With his other hand he cracked the man hard in the jaw before he grabbed him by the belt and lifted him over the head. With a roar he tossed him towards the other men before clapping his hands together. “Wall of light!"

A sizzling wall of lightning flashed out from Romeo's body and swept down the hallway towards the attackers. A smattering of screams echoed through the hall before fading to silence. Only Romeo and Banksy were left standing.

“Wow.”

"Piece of cake." Romeo turned to Banksy and gave him a cocky grin. He lifted up his hand in a thumbs up, before his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he flopped down to the floor. Banksy stared at him for a moment before shaking his head and grabbing Romeo under the arms and dragging him out of the hall.

"Why are you so heavy?" Banksy grunted as he managed to reach the foyer without incident. Letting go of Romeo he went to the large double doors of the entryway and pulled at the doorknob.

Nothing happened.

Furrowing his brow Banksy twisted the locks back and forth, pulling in either position, but the door still refused to budge. Biting his bottom lip, he ran his ring along the lock but immediately knew it was a futile effort. This lock was protected by magic. Magic that was far more powerful than the ring would be able to overcome.

He needed the rest of his equipment, but he didn't even know where to start.

Turning back, he stared down the entryway and towards the grand staircase that dominated the room. He had no choice but to go looking, but he wasn't going to be able to drag Romeo around the entire time.

He grabbed the lightning mage under the arms and dragged him across the floor, finding the nearest room and pushing Romeo inside. Locking the door behind him Banksy took in a calming breath before heading towards the staircase. He had just managed to make it halfway up when a steady symphony of clicks reached his ears. Coming to a stop he turned around just as Lilith came into the hallway. Immediately her multiple eyes focused on him and a too wide smile split across her face.

"Are you going somewhere, Mr. Bank?" she asked.

Banksy swallowed hard. "Considering it, yeah.”

"Why don't you come down here?"

"I'd really rather not."

Lilith scuttled across the floor, her many legs tapping ominously against the floor as she reached the base of the staircase. "I think we both know you can't escape."

Banksy move a step higher. "I bet you thought the same thing when you locked me up earlier."

Annoyance flashed across her face as she climbed onto the staircase. "Please, don't make this any harder on yourself."

Banksy hesitated a moment, his shoulders slumping, before he turned on his heel and bounded up the stairs as fast as he could. It was not fast enough, however, as Lilith's eight inhuman legs easily propelled her up the staircase and she was on him just as he made it to the second floor. He cried out as she crashed into his back, sending him rolling across the floor until he came to a stop on his back.

"Human are such annoying creatures," Lilith sighed as she began to advance on him. "You insist on being so defiant, but if you would simply know your place then everything would be so much simpler. It’s not like I want you all dead, after all.”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Banksy would have replied with a clever quip if he had one, but nothing came to mind and he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to get it out though the lump of fear that hard formed in his throat. Instead he started to crawl back but Lilith pounced on him, trapping him neatly beneath her legs.

"Now, the question does become do I keep you for the children, or do I simply kill you now?" Lilith rubbed her chin. Banksy struggled to escape as she ran her hand along his cheek, tracing his jaw before her hand found his throat. Her nails dug against his skin as she began to squeeze, tightening just enough that he couldn't breathe. "You have caused me so much trouble already, and it feels as though I deserve a treat. I'm sure you would be delicious. Still young and tender and with a delectable touch of magic. Such a difficult choice. Though, maybe there can be a third option. You are obviously very skilled. Perhaps you could become one of my thralls. Would you like that, Mr. Bank? You could be useful, at least. Though, no, that would take the fun away, wouldn’t it?”

Banksy sucked in a greedy breath as she loosened her grip ever so slightly, just enough to suck in a pathetic amount of air.

"Beg," Lilith said as she moved her face closer to his, her red eyes growing wide. "Beg me for your life. Beg to serve my every whim."

"Beg?"

Lilith moved closer. "Yes. Beg."

"Serve you?" Banksy tightened his fists to keep his hands form shaking. He tried to close his eyes but Lilith tightened her grip as soon as he did so. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at her.

"Beg.”

“Lilith…” Banksy said softly.

A smile spread across her face. “Yes?”

Banksy took in a soft breath before swinging his head up and catching her hard in the face. The attack wasn't enough to knock her back, but it was enough to draw blood. He bared his teeth at her.

"I've served people like you before. I'll die before I do it again."

"Shame," Lilith sighed as she recovered, wiping her hand delicately across her nose to clean away a small tickle of blood. The pressure on his throat returned. Banksy refused to close his eyes as the remaining air in his lungs faded and he began to choke. Tears began to leak out of the corner of his eyes as his body demanded oxygen that he wasn't capable of giving it.

His vision went dark.

A scream pierced through his mind and suddenly the pressure was gone and he was breathing again. Blinking rapidly Banksy watched as Lilith came back into view, her head reared back and her hands clawing at her chest. The spider legs wrapped around his body loosened and he began to wiggle free when Lilith came to an abrupt stop and fell over him.

"Everything I took from you is in my room. The nightstand," she whispered in his ear, her voice trembling. "At the very top, the last room. The door is unlocked. I can't stop. Please… escape."

Grabbing him by the front of the shirt she threw him free. He slid across the floor, limbs flailing wildly, before he managed to catch himself. Staggering back to his feet Banksy stared at her for half a second, watching as she tore at the front of her dress, her nails shredding the fabric and slicing through the skin beneath, sending drops of blood cascading through the air as tears streamed down her face.

Gritting his teeth, he turned away and took off up the stairs.

Every second felt like an eternity as he ascended higher and higher into the manor. His heart hammered in his chest and his legs burned in protest, but still Banksy forced himself to move faster, taking the steps two at a time until he finally reached the top floor. Still, he dared not rest, sprinting down the hallway and to the Widow Black's room.

Just as she said the door was unlocked. Banksy quickly fixed that as he slammed the door shut behind him and slid the lock into place before scanning the room. Just as Lilith had said his necklace, along with his lock pick set, were sitting on the nightstand, though the Phoenix stone was missing. Beside his equipment was a belt that Banksy recognized as belonging to Romeo. Set into the buckle was what most people would have assumed to be some kind of glass pendent but Banksy knew better.

"You goddamned Pyro," Banksy said as he pulled the orb free and slipped it into his pocket just as the door behind him rattled.

"She can't save you this time!" Lilith called out as she struck the door again. A crack appeared in the wood. Banksy quickly pulled his necklace over his head and slid his picks back into his pocket. Taking in a calming breath as he played with the rings on his necklace, he looked round the room, ignoring the sound of splintering wood as Lilith continued to force her way in.

To his right was the bathroom. Useless.

To his left was the balcony. Useless.

"Balcony it is," Banksy said as he came to the very grim conclusion that he would rather die on the balcony than in a bathroom.

The night air was cool as Banksy stepped onto the balcony, closing the glass doors behind him more as a final annoyance for Lilith than for any real sense of safety. The view would have been spectacular if Banksy had any inclination to enjoy it. Instead he turned back towards the room, watching with a sinking feeling in his stomach as Lilith began to force her way through the broken door, her eyes wild and teeth bared.

Sighing, he began to lift his eyes up towards the stars but instead found himself looking at the roofline of the manor. It really wasn't that high up. If he stepped on the railing of the balcony, he could probably pull himself up.

"Well why not?" Banksy mumbled to himself as he stepped up and onto the railing. It was a bit of a stretch, but his fingers were able to grasp the edge of the roof. With a pained grunt he jumped up and pulled, his feet kicking wildly, until he was able to shimmy his way onto the roof. Below him the glass door exploded as Lilith burst onto the balcony. It took her only moment to locate him.

With considerably more grace she made her way to the roof, her many powerful legs easily pulling her up the side of the building. She tilted her head and watched as Banksy struggled along his way.

"All your running and this is where you end up?" Lilith asked, gesturing along the rooftop. "Please, do tell what you were planning?"

"Just trying to survive, honestly" Banksy answered as he continued to slink further away, fighting to keep upright as his feet slipped on the smooth rooftop tiles. Lilith followed him at a languid pace, keeping to the edge of the roof and boxing him in. Banksy came to a gradual stop as he reached the side of the manor. "Well… fuck."

With nowhere left to go he turned to look at Lilith who spread her arms wide. "Come now, let's end this Mr. Bank. You have dragged this on far enough."

As a soft breeze blew against his face Banksy looked past the Widow Black and to the dark grounds below. He imagined his body impacting with the ground and was quite disheartened to find the thought didn't bother him all the much. Maybe it was because it beat being eaten by a wide margin.

That line of thinking almost managed to bring a smile to his face, but his impending death managed to keep it at bay. He sighed and gave his head a gentle shake. Was he really going to die like this?

He had thought he was going to die so many other times before, but he would never have imagined it would be in a situation like this.

Well, if this was how it had to be, at least it was going to be on his terms. He reached inside his pocket and curled his fingers around the smooth glass orb. "Alright. But can I ask for one thing?”

"I suppose I owe you that much. This has been more exciting than my average night." Lilith smiled. "What it is you wish?”

"Catch." Banksy pulled the bomb free from his pocket and pressed the trigger. He tossed it towards Lilith.

The small bomb flew it a high arc before detonating just in front of Lilith’s face. She let out a scream of pain and surprise as the plume of fire washed over her. She reared back, legs gouging into the rooftop to keep her balance. Banksy let out a roar as he dove through the fire, His shoulder connected with her chest and he wrapped his arm around her.

Lilith's grip held for a moment before the force of Banksy’s tackle overcame her and they were launched off the edge of the roof and into the air.