He stumbled back, throwing up his arms as his ward spread across the hall between us. Serpent flame struck it like a tidal wave. The corridor shook around us, and the ward bowed. But it held.
I poured more power into the spell, giving everything. The flames surged, battering his shield. The heat in the corridor became unbearable and the stone around glowed under the assault of the undying flames.
Jones’s power waned, but not fast enough. This spell consumed a great deal of my power, and if it depleted me before I killed Jones, the world lost everything.
We strained against each other. For a brief second, we seemed evenly matched, then something gave. His ward shattered like glass, loose fragments of power ricocheting through the hall, and Jones fell.
With a shout of victory, I drove my flames toward him, intent on the kill.
A counter-spell stronger than any I’d encountered before tore through my curse.
The sudden cessation of my spell left me reeling. I stumbled and fell to my hands and knees. My breath came in heaving gasps. Nothing remained of my power.
Who the bloody hell had cast that spell?
Jones loomed over me, his weariness gone. Straight-backed, he smiled at me. “I didn’t want to use this, you know,” Jones said, his voice strong and sharp. He brandished a sharpened length of metal the width of his palm.
“What…did you do?” I wheezed, trying to get to my feet and reached deep, trying to force another gate open.
A spell seared through me, locking the gates tight.
“One of the Three Nails of Christ.” Jones held up the metal in his hand. “The one that pierced his right hand.”
“Impossible,” I groaned. “The Church destroyed the Nails centuries ago.”
The Nails, soaked in the blood of Christ, were some of the most powerful magical focal objects in the world. Legend said a blooded magician who wielded one possessed unlimited power. Countless wars raged over them, until the Church gathered them all and destroyed them.
“History hides many a lie. They never found the third.” Jones’s skin shimmered, and with a crack, his nose righted itself. Blood evaporated from his clothing, leaving him looking as if we never battled at all.
I intended to keep fighting.
I dug deep, gathering the last of my will, and threw a slashing spell at Jones’s neck.
He knocked the spell aside like a cat batting a piece of string.
The last of my strength gone, I collapsed.
Jones knelt beside me. “You proved a worthy foe.” He held a hand in front of my face, and an emerald flame kindled in his palm. No incantation. How powerful did the Nail make him? He smiled more gently this time. “I thought it poetic to end your life with the same spell you intended to end mine with. Goodbye, Mr. Crowley.”
He drew his arm back, and everything went black.
17
I Will Give You Power
I don’t know how long I lingered in the darkness. A minute. An hour. Perhaps a lifetime. Time stood still, and as far as I could tell, only I existed. I saw nothing, felt nothing, heard nothing. No taste touched my tongue, nor odor reached my nostrils. In truth, I didn’t know if I still possessed a body.
“Where are we?” My thoughts echoed in the void.
“Outside of time.” The reply seemed to come from everywhere at once. A familiar voice.
“Vex?”
“Indeed,” he said.
I tried to find him in the blackness, hoping to glimpse him at least once. But I saw nothing. “How did I get here?”
“I brought you here. I am much more than you imagine, Aleister.”
“Why bring me here?”
“You are about to die,” he said. His words conjured images of Jones kneeling in front of me, the undying flame coating his hand. “Your power failed, and Jones intends to end your life. But a chance remains.”
The memory evaporated at Vex’s words. “What chance?”
“He wields a Nail of Christ, and with it, even at the height of your strength, you could not stand against him,” he said.
I nodded. Or at least, I thought I did, I couldn’t tell
“But I can give you power,” Vex said. “More than you ever dreamed. Power to turn the tide.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. “Why?”
“Because we need you, Aleister. And because you must stop George Cecil Jones. He already possesses a Nail. If he gains the Book, he will shroud this world in darkness.”
True enough, but I found something odd about his words. “Who is ‘we’?” I asked.
Vex remained frustratingly silent.
“All power comes at a price.” I dreaded the answer, but I asked, “What will this cost me?”
“Your soul.” Vex said. “I bequeath you power, and you relinquish yourself to me.”
I expected the answer, yet it still took me by surprise. This sounded demonic, yet, I didn’t think Vex a demon. “What will you do with my soul if I cede it?”
“Until you die? Nothing. After?” I could almost hear him shrug. “Well, it depends on the use to which you put my gift.”
Not the answer of a demon. Something inside told me to take the deal. It felt like fate. But I couldn’t help wondering. “Why me?”
“Because, in this age, it must be you.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You will die, forcing me to seek another.” He sounded weary and I knew he truly didn’t want that to come to pass. “Elaine Simpson, perhaps. She has potential.”
I pondered everything he said in the ensuing silence.
Vex asked a high price, and I understood little of what I might expect in return. But if I did nothing, I died, and Jones would wreak havoc on the world.
Vex’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Time runs short, Aleister. Choose.”
So I did.
The world returned, and once again, Jones hovered over me, hand flickering with emerald flame. His hand drew back with almost painful slowness. His power tainted the air, acrid and rotten. He wielded a Nail of Christ, but its power fell far short of holy.
As one, all seven gates opened. Power, immense and overwhelming, roared through my body. As Vex promised, more power
