Page 137 of First Ritual

Me? All three.

I’d never fought a grimoire. Apparently they could bring fucking books to life. This hadn’t been in the training session last night. I rolled my shoulder back as the knight swung his heavy blade in a downward arc. I touched his body.

Real.

Or real with Huxley’s magic.

I spun back from a series of shorter jabs from the headless knight. His movements were stiff due to the rust on his armor, but he was fast. I set forth magic through my apothecary affinity. A charm to accelerate what was already present.

The rust.

My charm didn’t take root on his armor.

“You can’t change history,” Sven grunted. I listened to the mute thuds of blows being exchanged farther down the row.

Okay, so I couldn’t alter the knight’s state. Sven didn’t follow up with more tips, and I was glad for it.

Two options I could think of.

Casting a barrier forward, I wrapped it around the knight like a blanket, separating him from his book and Huxley’s power.

His movements slowed and became sluggish, but the knight was still a threat, particularly as the barrier to keep out Huxley’s magic—who had a specific affinity for this type of magic—would drain me of juice I’d need.

Option two.

I approached the book and flicked through the pages. Finding what I was after, I summoned the knight’s head.

Hair tickled my palm where I gripped the knight’s head tight. The jagged fleshy ends of the skin and tissue around his neck dripped blood onto the floor. I must’ve opened the page to where his head was first hacked off. Gross.

The knight had been moving toward me but froze on the spot.

I held the head high. “Get back in the book. Do not come out again. I will return your head if you obey.”

I removed the barrier around him, and the knight clanked to his book and disappeared. I closed the book and banished the knight’s head back where I’d found it.

“It took ages to build a relationship with him,” Huxley snapped my way.

“Nothing to lose your head over,” I replied, grinning at Sven’s snort.

The thrill of the fight had taken us both.

I took stock.

Sven was trying to contain Huxley by slowly pushing him down the aisle. Though stronger, Sven was larger and not nearly as nimble. Trying to prevent Huxley from disappearing down the myriad aisles while also pushing him into a confined space was taking its toll, judging by the sweat rolling over Sven’s brow.

Huxley was light on his feet, and—if not enjoying the fight as much as us—he certainly did like to wear magus down until they lost.

Just like my mother.

I blurred forward. “Coming to your right.”

Sven budged to the left.

Huxley frowned and his quick defense gained an edge as Sven and I ebbed and flowed, taking turns raining punches and kicks on Huxley.

We fought in the central walkway of the library. Aisles branched periodically to the left and right. An explosion of green appeared down the aisle to my right.

“Incoming,” I shouted to Sven as he retreated from Huxley.