BELOW HIM, THE OPPENHEIMER SCHOOL lay in ruins. The boys’ and girls’ dorms were rubble, and the Training Hall had half collapsed. Here and there, a few soldiers lay unconscious on the ground, but the vast majority of guards had lined up in formation directly beneath Fort, looking straight ahead without moving.
Beside him in the air, the Old One floated, Sierra at its side.
YOU CAUSED US PAIN AND DESTROYED OUR CONTROL OF OUR MINION, the creature’s voice pounded in Fort’s head. Some sort of invisible force slowly turned Fort around to face it, then pulled him closer. Fort flinched away, but the thing didn’t seem to notice.
WE HAD THOUGHT CORPOREAL MAGIC TO BE GONE, the creature continued, each word like a spike in Fort’s brain. NOW IT SHALL BE.
The creature’s tentacles reached out to surround Fort’s head, but this time, they pushed into his ears, nose, and mouth. He tried to scream but couldn’t get any air. He felt like he was drowning as one by one, all the spells in his head disappeared, leaving just darkness behind, the Old One’s shadows, the same terror he’d felt in Sierra’s room earlier from the inescapable fact that humanity had lived to serve these ancient creatures, and there was nothing he could do, nothing—
And then the connection broke, and Fort almost fainted from relief as the tentacles pulled away, letting him breathe again. He looked up at the Old One, who floated silently at his side.
“You . . . haven’t won,” Fort said, barely able to speak. “I’m not . . . the only . . . healer.”
The magic holding Fort slowly rotated him to look down below, and he almost cried out in despair.
There, lined up behind the soldiers, were his classmates from Dr. Ambrose’s Healing class, as well as the rest of the students from the Oppenheimer School. All of them were under the Old One’s control, just like the soldiers.
Now that he was being forced to stare, Fort also found the teachers at their students’ sides. Dr. Opps was there, and Colonel Charles. Even Dr. Ambrose stood next to Bryce, who looked much less evil now that his mind was being controlled.
Fort looked down at everyone he’d met in the last three days, wanting to scream, to fight back, anything. It was his fault the Old One had escaped, after all. Everything he’d done had led right to this moment. He’d woken up Sierra, and that in turn had brought Damian back.
All because he couldn’t let his desire for revenge go.
“Please, don’t do this,” he whispered, knowing the Old One wouldn’t listen.
HUMANS NEVER UNDERSTOOD WHAT EACH TYPE OF MAGIC TRULY MEANT, the Old One said, waving its tentacles out over the assembled crowd below. WHAT YOU CALL DESTRUCTION IS BUT A FRACTION OF THE POWER OF THE TRUE ELEMENTAL MAGIC. YOU USE MAGIC OF THE BODY TO HEAL WOUNDS, WHEN YOU COULD USE IT TO RESHAPE YOURSELVES AS WE DID.
Reshape themselves? Fort gasped, remembering the glove he’d seen in the storage warehouse beneath the Training Hall. It’d been made from the same type of armor the Old One wore now, but shaped as if for a human.
Maybe he’d been right before, that the Old Ones had once been human? Or at least something closer in appearance.
THREE OF US REMAIN OF THE SEVEN THAT ONCE RULED, the Old One continued, and his tentacles formed multiple patterns in the air, a complex weaving dance that Fort could barely follow. As it maneuvered its tentacles, a tear formed in the sky before them, like a rip in the fabric of space and time. AND NOW, THE THREE OF US SHALL RULE YET AGAIN.
The tear widened, then solidified, forming a shimmering green portal. And on the other side . . .
Fort dry heaved, barely able to comprehend what he was seeing but unable to look away.
Colors screamed in madness, and time wept with sorrow. Mountains of incomprehensible anger raged against a cracked and broken sky, while sinister rain fell in multiple directions at once. And standing before it all were two human-sized creatures, both wearing the same crystal armor as the Old One within Damian.
But that was where the similarities stopped.
One of the Old Ones was covered in shrieking human faces, as if its body was filled with terrified souls. The second looked to be formed from pure flame, though it burned black at the edges and white at the center.
OUR TIME HAS COME TO RETURN TO OUR WORLD, MY BROTHER AND SISTER, the Old One said to the figures on the other side of the portal. COME. RETURN HERE TO OUR HOME, AND LET US MAKE IT OUR OWN ONCE MORE.
Fort frantically tried to free himself, struggling against the magical force holding him in the air, but it was like pushing against a mountain. He yelled in frustration, unable to imagine what was next to come.
If one Old One could so easily take control of an entire army base, three of them could surely take over the world.
But what could Fort do? He had no magic, not even Healing spells. Sierra was just as broken, controlled as she was by the Old One.
But maybe she was still conscious, somewhere within her mind? Could she hear him, through whatever connection they shared?
Sierra? Are you . . . still in there?
The Old Ones approached the portal, and Fort could almost feel the magic radiating off them. The one made of flame gestured, and a geyser of lava shot into the air just outside the school’s walls, setting the nearby forest ablaze.
The one with the shrieking faces gestured toward the soldiers, and they all turned toward the creature, gazing up at it lovingly.
THE SEVEN FORMS OF MAGIC TOGETHER HOLD THE POWER OF ALL REALITY, the Old One said to Fort. YOU WILL WITNESS THAT POWER IN MOMENTS. AND THEN, FOR THE PAIN YOU HAVE CAUSED US, WE SHALL UNCREATE YOU FROM EXISTENCE.
Fort started hyperventilating again, not even sure what “uncreate” could mean. This time he had no Remove Fear spell to stop himself, but that worry paled before whatever was about to come.
Just like when his father had died, feelings of helplessness washed over him, but the memory of his dad woke something in him, and he pushed back against the despair with what remained of his will.
He wouldn’t let this happen, not when it was all his fault. He couldn’t!
A familiar voice in his mind seemed to groan. You know, whenever you . . . you push back like that, it gives me . . . such a massive headache.
Sierra? Fort thought, suddenly feeling the slightest bit of hope. You’re still there?
Barely, she said. It’s all I can do to . . . just talk to you. I don’t . . . I don’t have the power to . . . fight those things.
And just like that, the hope slipped away as quickly as it came. Fort watched as the students below now joined the soldiers in turning toward the screaming-faces Old One, like it had taken over not their minds, but their spirits.
But then Fort noticed something odd. Not all the students turned at the same time, like the soldiers had. Instead, four of them seemed almost surprised by the movement and had to hurry to catch up.
And they were four students that he recognized. Cyrus, Rachel, Jia, and Sebastian.
Fort’s eyes widened. Sierra? I need you to tell Cyrus something. He has to know!
I can try, she said. He’s close by, so I should . . . be able to reach him. But what good will that—
Trust me, Fort thought back at her. Tell him that I said healing magic can hurt the thing inside Damian. Maybe even send it away. And that he’s going to need something to protect him and a few others against mind magic. Whoever he thinks he needs to save us.
What? What are you . . . it’s too late. He’s already here . . . with the rest of them.
Just, please, tell him! Fort thought back at her.
Sierra didn’t respond, and Fort hoped she’d heard and hadn’t just been overcome by the Old One.
The two Old Ones had reached the portal, and the fiery one was starting to step through.
And then from somewhere down below, someone . . . clapped.
“HEY!” a voice yelled. “Hold on one minute. We got you something. A welcome-home present!”
Fort looked down, a smile growing over his face as Rachel turned back around to face the Old One within Damian.
HOW DO YOU RESIST OUR CONTROL? The Old One’s voice hit Rachel hard enough to almost knock her over, but she quickly stood back up and grinned.
“You have no idea how powerful I am,” she said to him. “But let me educate you a bit.”
Faster than Fort could see, she threw her hands out, sending a magic missile streaking toward the Old One.
With barely a movement, the Old One flicked a tentacle out, slapping the missile back toward her, forcing Rachel to leap out of the way as it exploded into the ground.
But even as it did, the Old One screamed in agony and pulled its tentacle up to find what resembled a medical bandage now sticking to its skin.
WHAT IS THIS? it demanded, incinerating the bandage with a glance. YOU DARE USE CORPOREAL MAGIC ON US?
In front of them, the portal began to waver, and the other two Old Ones pulled away from it. The pain must have disrupted the Summoning spell, just like it had the Old One’s control over the monster below the Training Hall.
“You’re not supposed to burn it,” Sebastian said from behind Rachel. “But don’t worry.” He held up two duffel bags, one in each hand, both practically overflowing with Dr. Ambrose’s Healing bandages. “We’ve got more.”