Perri ran. Eyes firmly affixed to a house that grew closer with each step, she refused to look back at her friends—or at Anubis. Once she burst through the open doorway, she skidded to a halt by the nearest window. On her knees on the sandy floor, she caught her breath, wiping sweat and stray hairs from her brow. The sounds of battle came in through the rectangular opening beside her, and she peered outside.
Rowan was dueling with Anubis.
The Auror fired spell after spell at the fake god, trying to keep him busy enough to let the others get to safety. They had not been idle. Like Perri, they had run, each taking shelter. Albion kept firing at the faux deity, even though the spells had no effect.
Unable to watch any longer, she pulled away from the window and leaned her back against the wall. How could he take all those spells? Most of Rowan's attacks hit their mark, and he was an accomplished Auror. No wizard, Dark or otherwise, could take all that punishment without a scratch. Could he be a god?
No. Perri had talked to him. Anubis was impressive to behold, but he was driven by human emotions and human motivations. When he came within inches of her, she didn't feel the presence of something spiritual or otherworldly. She smelled his breath, his sweat. The supposed-god was human—a wizard. Simply a wizard.
So, how was he unaffected by magic?
The scepter! It was the only thing he had. His clothes and jewelry were impressive, but they didn't seem special to her. Nothing on him looked like an artifact.
"Okay," she muttered. "What I told the others back at the Ministry was right. They're more powerful than a wand, but not much. They can't do what he does. There must be something more to it."
Perri hazarded another peek out the window. This time, she focused on the god and his scepter. He waved it around, in much the same manner as normal wizards do wands. Rowan was still fighting, casting and dodging return fire from Anubis. The Auror had changed his tactics, though, foregoing the direct assault and using spells to fling rocks and debris from the palace at his enemy. It wouldn't work, but it might at least keep the lofty impostor distracted.
Yet Rowan was weakening. No longer running, his reactions were off, narrowly missing a curse from the would-be god. His counter-curse came too late, as he took deep breaths between spells.
Where is Arati? She and Thaddeus hadn't arrived at the scene, and a sudden terror gripped Perri at the thought of them struck down during the battle.
No! Focus on the scepter. On Anubis. A tear rolled down her cheek as she turned her gaze back to the dog-faced wizard, the tiny drop making a line of clean in a face dark with sand and dirt. Standing before the ruined building, he cast his spells at the others. Invulnerable, he showed no care to defend himself. Anubis walked back and forth along the front of where the great building once rose majestically, as though guarding it. The palace. Something about the palace.
It struck her like a splash of cold water on her face, thrusting her into instant wakefulness and action.
The scepter's power—she knew what it was, and the secret to the god-man's invulnerability, as well. With no time to spare, she Disapparated.
Perri appeared amid the rubble of the ancient palace. Bare feet stumbled on the uneven jumble of rocks and she fell to her knees, the dress tearing and blood welling on the newly bared skin.
Pushing herself back up, she located the spot where the thrones should have been and worked her way to it. Once there, she stared down at the rubble and sighed.
YOU ARE READING
The Wand and The Scepter
FantasyStrong-willed Perpugilliam Atwood, a witch living among Muggles in 19th-Century London, goes to work at the Ministry of Magic as though it were any other day. But she's thrust into a mission to Egypt to help break the curses surrounding the ruins of...