Page 38 of Wicked Warlock
“I swear if you don’t shut up, I’m going skin you and to feed you to Kumi.” I stopped in the middle of yet another very long hallway.
Odin sat down and gazed up at me with that one big eye of his and right now I just wanted to poke it. This was taking way too long. “We are on a mission.”
“Not my fault you didn’t pack reserves.” He licked at his paw and swiped it over his ear, cleaning himself.
I ground my teeth together, searching for the patience I just did not have. “You ate everything, you pig of a tiny furball.”
“My paw still tastes like salt.” He licked it again.
“You’re a selfish little shit.” I pointed at him. “Who eats the last back-up nugget?”
“He who gets there first.” He turned and started strutting his little cat butt down the hall.
“Listen, I’m not being away from Tilly any longer than I have to.”
Odin paused at a doorway. “Logan is watching her.”
“You’re just happy you didn’t get killed today.” I stopped and looked at the slightly open door and the dark stairs that led downward from it.
“Yes.” Odin jabbed a single paw toward the stairs. “Food.”
“Says who?”
“The books Ophelia loves.”
I glanced around at the empty halls, wondering when students would start to wake for breakfast. They had to eat around here. Unless they did some kind of magic to summon food, in which case, I had to learn that crap as soon as possible. “What book?”
“The one with the kid with the glasses who’d be dead without the girl in his group.”
“Harry Potter?”
Odin nodded. “Food was in the basement in that one.”
We didn’t have any other choices. Might as well. “Go ahead.”
He walked through the door and his thick black fur blended him into the darkness of the hallway. When I pushed open the door and began my descent down the stairs, I opened the pocket on my pants and let my card fly up around my head. Neon smoke seeped from my hand and mixed in with the card, creating a light glow that allowed me to see. “Where are you?”
No answer.
“Stupid cat is hiding all the food.” Right on cue, my stomach growled, and I felt a deep, empty feeling. Psychic powers took a lot of juice, and I had to get back to Tilly.
I reached up and grabbed a card from the swirling deck.
I am The Chariot, driven to victory...
The picture was of a beautiful raven-haired woman steering a golden chariot pulled by six white horses. She wore a gladiator breast plate and held a long whip that circled around her head. Show me the way to victory.
I tossed the card up into the air and it floated down a long hall leaving a trail of my magic in its wake. Cobwebs and dust gathered in the halls and in the upper corners. It smelled old and damp like a forgotten basement. The thick stone tiles were slippery under my feet; some of the doors hung off their hinges, giving me a glimpse into old dorm rooms with broken-down beds and disintegrated desks. The sound of scurrying critters tickled at my ears as I followed my card down the long hall.
It was creepy in the coolest possible way. The chariot card smacked into the door at the very end of the hallway. It stayed there, glowing brighter than ever. I didn’t smell food or hear the clanging of pots telling me that breakfast was underway. When I pressed my hand to the door, I felt a powerful magic at work, the kind of dark magic one did not mess with. I gave it a little push and the wooden door creaked open, revealing a woman lying in glass coffin as though she were sleeping. There were no lights or windows, yet a single beam of light shined down on the coffin. The room was immaculate and was a stark contrast to the disarray of the rest of the wing.
Her hair fell in waves of wild darkness that framed her percaline face with pale skin that held the look of death. Somehow, I knew she wasn’t dead. Whatever magic did this was powerful and illegal.
Odin appeared from the shadows and walked in the room. He trotted around the coffin, staring at the woman. “They keep dead people. Witches are creepy.”
I chuckled. “And they say warlocks are the dark ones. This is some kind of Snow White bullshit right here.”
Chapter 17
