Effigy Magic

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"STOP IT, QUENTIN!!" Julia screamed, entwining her fingers, materializing a blue line of flames to stop them from coming any closer.

"I CAN'T! ITS NOT LIKE THIS TYPE OF SUMMONING CAME WITH A MANUAL," he called back, firing a blast of lightning at a horde that had crept closer than they'd realized.

"But it did, Quentin," Margo grunted, struggling to shield both her and Eliot from the throngs that'd risen from the mausoleum's ground. "You just didn't bother to read it!"

She was right, of course. The voodoo using hedge-witch had warned them to read the grimoire thoroughly before attempting the hand seals.

"Don't ya dare use this without first mastering it, ya hear?" she'd warned, pulling a lock of hair behind her ear. "Effigy magic was not meant to leave Nawlins, but if dis 'monstre' of yours has really killed my Henry...den ain't no other choice."

"WATCH OUT FOR GERALD!!!" Alice warned, bending over to pick up the frightened puppy, who'd stood paralyzed after barely avoiding a ricochet of sparks.

"Gerald?" Eliot asked, looking in Alice's crossed arms. "Oh! Cancer Puppy! I'd forgotten he'd followed us here!"

The creatures who'd been sprouting out of the ground by the dozens surrounded them, their rotting flesh hanging by the thinnest strands of what little remaining muscle they possessed.

"What spell did you use to cause all of this," Alice accused, gesturing to the creatures that encircled them.

Qunetin, flipping through the grimoire, held it up, its tattered pages facing outward for her to see.

"This one," he answered, pointing to the Latin wording on the bottom of the page. "The Requi Mortuus."

"That's a reanimation spell!" she said, a scowl spreading across her face. "Do you know how dumb that was? The spell is Latin, for 'reanimate dead,' or did you not read up on your Latin either?"

Julia who'd been suspicious of Alice and Quentin's friendship throughout their time at Brakebills came to his aid.

"Hey! You don't get to scold my boyfriend, that's my job!" Julia corrected, erecting an upward rising wall of fire around the quintet, separating them from the undead.

"Insecure, much?" Alice mumbled.

Julia, one hand raised to secure the flames, walked over to Quentin, leaning over to his ear.

"This wall won't hold long, so what's the plan?" she whispered.

Quentin furiously flipped through the pages of the grimoire, coming to a stop midway through.

"Uh, it says here that, those who possess, small heads are the only ones capable of fending off the undead."

Eliot looked over to Quentin.

"I guess it's up to one of us then, huh, Quentin?" he said, dramatically throwing his belt to the ground. "So, who's going to drop their trousers first for measurements?"

"Must your mind always wander to the gutters?" Margo pleaded. "It obviously means a measurement of the heads on our shoulders, so it's up to you to fix this," she said looking to Quentin.

"Why him?" Alice asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Well, because—duh, he's got the smallest brain." She avowed, making a fake distanced measurement with her thumb and index finger.

"GUYS, THE FLAMES ARE DWINDLING!" Julia announced, both her arms outstretched in a struggle to keep the wall from descending. "So, if you could find another time to argue, that'd be great."

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