The Red Scrolls of Magic

Magnus could hear the scratching sounds of fingernails on wood as Shinyun wove magic around her tale. He could feel the walls closing in on him and the shortness of breath in his lungs. He took a gulp of wine to soothe his throat and set the glass aside.

“?‘Seek the children of demons. Love them as you love your lord. Do not let the children be alone.’ They dug me up. Together, we slaughtered every soul in my village. We killed them all. I did worse later, at the Crimson Hand’s behest. They told me to trust them. I was so grateful. I wanted to belong.”

“I’m sorry,” Magnus whispered. Shinyun is me. She is my dark mirror.

“I know,” Shinyun said. “The Crimson Hand always spoke of you, their lord who would return. They said we should make you proud, when the time came. I used to long for you to come back. I wanted you to be my family.”

“I would have been,” said Magnus. “But I didn’t remember the cult. I didn’t know anything about you. If I’d known, I would have come.”

“I believe you,” said Shinyun. “I trust you. My whole life, I was taught to trust you.”

Magnus picked his glass up. “I promise I will do whatever it takes to help you, and to put an end to this.”

“Thank you,” she said simply.

They settled back into the tub. “I met with my informant,” Shinyun said, her voice returning to its usual businesslike demeanor. “She suggested a meeting place in Rome where the Crimson Hand are meant to assemble. She said their leader had been seen there recently.”

“Did she say if it was Barnabas Hale?”

“She didn’t know his name,” said Shinyun. “This is all secondhand. Nobody from the cult will talk. Not after what happened to Mori Shu.”

“We should tell Alec,” said Magnus.

“We can send him a text message,” Shinyun said, “but not from within the baths; there’s no reception here. I didn’t want to tell him before I told you and . . . you and I were able to have a word in private.”

Magnus was briefly annoyed, but it seemed petty to quibble when Shinyun had just told him about being buried alive.

“No time like the present,” he said. He stood and waved a hand, and his wet towel transformed itself into jeans and a dark blue shirt scattered with yellow stars. He retrieved his phone and frowned at it; the screen seemed to be frozen.

Shinyun cast her own spell, and her towel began to snake all over her body, drying her off. When it was finished, it dropped to the floor. She was already dressed underneath, wearing the same black armored business suit she’d worn in Venice. She patted her waist and thigh, checking for two knives that disappeared as quickly as she pulled them out.

Satisfied, she motioned to the door. “After you.”

Magnus turned his phone off, rebooting it. What a time for it to break down. Still, there were plenty of ways to get a message to Alec. Soon they would be together again; soon they would find and stop the leader of the Crimson Hand. Soon they could be done with all this.



CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE



* * *



Fire in the Crimson Hand



MAGNUS WAS LATE.

Before they had gotten a block away from the Rome Institute, Alec received a curt message from Shinyun telling him that Magnus’s phone wasn’t working. She had gotten a tip from one of her local contacts, and she and Magnus were headed to a specific location in a forest somewhat outside the city.

She didn’t explain why Magnus was with her or where they had been. When Alec shared the information with Helen and Aline, they all agreed it made sense to meet up with Magnus and Shinyun at this rendezvous—it was more current information than what Mori Shu had given Helen, and even if it turned out to be a dead end, at least they’d all be in one place.

As time ticked by, Alec wondered whether Shinyun and Magnus had somehow gotten lost, or he’d misunderstood the direction. He’d been sure they would arrive by now, or that he would have heard from Magnus if there was a problem.

He felt thrown off-balance by having heard from Shinyun on Magnus’s behalf. He checked the time again and looked to see the sun lost behind the trees. Evening was rushing upon them like an enemy, and there was only so much witchlight could do in a thick forest. He eyed the line of trees; he couldn’t see farther than a few feet.

The forest felt haunted. Giant gnarled branches huddled close together, some intertwining like lovers, making it difficult to stray far past the narrow dirt path. Blossoming canopies masked the sky. Shadows of leaves danced with the wind.

“Can’t cultists get a room?” Aline grumbled. “Like, in town?”

It had rained earlier, so the ground was a wet, slippery slush, making traversing the terrain difficult and messy. Aline in particular was struggling, having worn shoes more suited to sitting at a café than tracking evildoers.

“Here, try this.” Helen took out a knife and sliced two long pieces of bark off the nearest tree. She got down on one knee in front of Aline and cupped her heel. Aline froze in place as Helen gently raised Aline’s leg and tied the bark to the bottom of her foot. She repeated the operation on the other foot. “There, now you’ll have better traction.”

Aline’s eyes were very wide. Alec noted disapprovingly that she did not even say thank you.