The End of Worlds

Lou - Chapter One

This is book 5 of THE BOX series. If you have not read 2-4 and don't want spoilers, please stop reading now! 

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The city really is quite beautiful from fifty stories up.

Forty stories.

Twenty.

Claws rip into my skin while the harpy diving after me catches up mid fall. She screeches as she struggles to lift me back up toward her nest on the top floor of the high-rise.

Rude.

I got enough ridiculous crap about my weight as a ballerina, I don't need magical bird people grunting about it too.

I twist around, swinging my sword blindly. The wretched sound of her scream is like a nail cutting glass when my blade hits skin. I gag as I'm hit with the stench of rotting meat and the sight of her blood stained pointed teeth before I once again drop at a speed which causes the little food I've managed to scrounge over the past few days to rise dangerously high in my throat.

Looking down doesn't help my stomach but is necessary.

Ten stories.

And...

Now.

I gather the magical energy stored in my chest and force it through my arm and out my tingling fingertips to tug the broken pavement toward my feet. It stretches up a little like I'm using a blur tool on a photo. The ground meets my feet and pulls me back down to its natural height like an elevator, absorbing my impact so I don't splatter like a bug on a windshield.

A whoosh of flapping wings warns me that the harpy is still coming. Without looking back, I harden the air between us to the strength of several panes of glass and shift my focus from my magic wall to the item in my hand.

The blue silk bag looks exactly the same as the others. Hand sewn by my gran, it holds the most disgusting and wonderful contents. My magic is inside, or part of it. Along with a bunch of my toenail clippings from when I was a kid. Yup, gross and awesome. When I was little, Gran took my magic from me and split it into five bags, one for each sense. She was trying to protect me from wizards who would steal my magic and leave me to die. Clearly, that didn't work out so well.

The harpy smacks into my protective wall with a satisfying thud.

Really, Gran. I shake my head at the bag before shoving it into my bra, the safest place I can reach without wasting too much time and energy opening the magic air pocket at my hip. She could have used anything connected to me in order to lock my magic. A favorite teddy, or clothes I wore a lot. Even chopped off my hair, which would still be gross, but not to the same level as toenails.

Trying to figure out Gran's strange sense of humor is pointless for me. My sister, Sin, probably understands. Those two always got each other in a way I never did.

The harpy smashes against the air wall again, scratching it with her unnecessarily sharp talons.

Despite Sin's ego and skill of making me feel like a dumb kid even when she's the one doing something wrong, she would be helpful right now. Her ability to deal with mythical creatures, turning them into allies, is something I can't do no matter how much magic I have.