CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

Modesty Kay could have hit her childhood and lifetime best friend if she was actually into unnecessary violence. She had winced and shook her head while Rue had fought with the Stutler guy. She hadn't intervened, of course; that had been between her and David. She was also afraid at what've occurred if she did.

But now that he had left, Modesty was teeming with rage. She should have done something. It would have been better than letting Damien's son leave; he would surely be found by a relative. And what would they do? Bring him in front of Damien. She knew he had been released. A sharp, cold sensation had raced down her spine and through her veins. Mother had felt it. So had Rue.

"Damien's been let out," her mother said, her mouth pulling down. She was obviously upset by the fact. "Can you feel it, Veronica? Balthazar?"

"I felt it," Veronica said quietly.

Balthazar agreed. "But why is it like this? We've never been able to feel a Morganian's release before."

"This situation is different," her mother replied as she grimaced. "This was a blood cage that held him."

Modesty was unfamiliar with the word. She wondered if Mother had taught it to her before, and she had forgotten; it had happened when she wasn't keenly listening to Mother's lectures.

"Excuse me," Becky interrupted. Her eyes were narrowed into sharp, intimidating slits. For a moment, she did indeed look like an angered Merlinian instead of the weak human girl she was. "But my boyfriend is in danger. Care to explain this term?"

She sure is sassy, Modesty thought, as she isn't cowardly. Most humans liked to shy away from dangers and threats. They preferred to be involved with the wonderful, useful parts of magic, and conveniently disappear when the menace arrived. Modesty liked it that this Becky wasn't the kind to hide when peril came, but she knew somewhere inside that she would probably end up as the victim in all of this. Humans were too delicate for their own good.

"A blood cage is a prison that keeps the person in an item," Mother said. "Like the box of sand that Damien was kept in. A sorcerer or sorceress takes their blood and infuses it within an ordinary object. It will lock someone inside, but blood isn't the only element required to create the cage."

"…What else?" Becky asked tensely.

"A life," her mother said softly. "Specifically, the conjurer's life."

"But who imprisoned Damien Stutler?" Rue asked. She seemed unaware of her earlier mistake. In fact, she had moved off that encounter immediately.

"Who knows?" Modesty answered before her mother could. "Mom only said that a group of Merlinians trapped Rachael in the Cell, but no one who's familiar with Damien Stutler knows who got to him. He himself is possibly the only one who knows."

"Oh… Shouldn't we go after Dave?" Becky asked, her temper visibly rising. Modesty resisted the urge to duck. "If he's in danger?"

"We should," Balthazar said. "But understand, Modessa, that Dave doesn't appreciate your entering. Or Rue Carver's. Or your daughter's. Let us get to him first and we can calm him down."

Modesty had a feeling he still wouldn't allow them to get involved. She frowned. Although Rue could be very rude and or demanding, she was helpful. Modesty didn't know if she particularly liked this David Stutler. He was turning down some great help, and her mother did a lot for him. Then again, Modesty countered mentally, why would he want the prison that kept his father? Maybe Dave was angry because he hadn't wanted anything to do with his family? Was he angry at Mother for even giving the box to him?

"Here's what I propose: Balthazar and his group go get Dave," Modesty unexpectedly said. "Mother and I will try to find this heirloom they are so desperately after. Dave told us about that, remember?"

"That would be great," Becky said. Surprisingly, her voice wasn't tainted with sarcasm as Modesty expected it would be. "Except you don't know where it is."

"Actually…I think I do," Modesty murmured uncertainly. "Veronica told us about this lady, Charlotte Markov, who wrote this book on magic. And it spoke of a Stutler heirloom kept by a Stutler woman, right?"

"Yes," Veronica answered, watching her carefully. "What do you expect to do, Modesty? That woman lives in another country."

"I don't think that heirloom is the heirloom Cyril wants," Modesty said slowly. She had placed the puzzle pieces all in her mind before jamming them together. Hopefully she would be correct. "I don't think Rachael or Damien want that one either."

"Why wouldn't they…" Balthazar left his sentence hanging. His eyebrows knit together as he tried to sort everything out. Perhaps he was thinking of his apprentice at the same time too.

"Because if they wanted it, they would have left New York already," Becky finished, her eyes alight with realization. Her tone was stunned. "So that means the heirloom they want is…somewhere around here?"

"Yes," Modesty said excitedly. "That's the reason they haven't left. What they want is right here, but I don't think they know where it is. If they did, they obviously would have gotten it already."

"You're right," her mother murmured. Modesty felt a swell of pride, but it didn't last for long.

"Where do you think this heirloom is?" Rue asked.

Modesty felt her shoulders sag. "Well, here's the thing: I'm not positive, but I might have a few clues."

"Continue," Veronica urged.

She inhaled deeply. Please let them believe me!

"Charlotte Markov seems to be in the know about magic and stuff like that, but she never mentioned Merlinians or Morganians," she said hurriedly, her words stringing together as she moved along with her rushed explanation. "There are three obvious reasons to why that is, but I can't confirm which one it is. One, she knows about it because she's a sorceress herself and isn't an idiot enough to reveal herself. Two, she doesn't know about Merlinians or that other stuff, but she has only an inkling about true magic. Three, she's a huge phony, but was able to get an interview with this Stutler woman."

"Isn't there another reason?" Becky asked. "What if she's a human, like me, and she was smart enough to keep the big parts to herself?"

It was Rue who answered that question. "Because," she said. "Most humans that actually know about the reality of magic get killed in the future."

"I'm not dead," Becky pointed out dubiously.

"Yet," Rue added. "It seems like sooner or later, any human that knows is killed."

Becky didn't wince at her words. She instead crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Modesty.

"Please continue."

Modesty gladly did. She didn't want any more trouble to break out. After this was done, she was teaching Rue how to act properly. "Anyways, Charlotte Markov. I have that book of hers at home. Mother has it on her shelves, but she never actually took a look at it. Was too busy with the Incantus." She shot her mother a glance, but she was invested with her own thoughts. "Mother, Rue, and I have been in a lot of places, dealing with Morganian-Merlinian related troubles. Like when a member of a magic family decides she wants to be a Merlinian, when her father is clearly a Morganian. That's just an example I'm throwing out. We go and deal with their problems and then we leave. We don't actually kill the Morganian who hasn't caused any trouble… Against our code or something. Okay, back on topic. Since we've been through a lot of towns and cities and countries, I couldn't help but feel this nagging thought in the back of my mind. It turns out that there is a temple called the Sasha C. Markov Temple that we've been to. Inside of it is this beautiful clock that is on the wall."

Rue's eyes widened. "That's the clock we saw while we were vacationing."

"Vacationing and attempting to help a Merlinian family with Morganian twin sons," Modesty reminded them. "But that isn't the point. The point is that the temple must have the heirloom. We aren't sure, but I've got a really strong feeling about it."

"Never ignore feelings like that," her mother suddenly said. "Balthazar, what do you think?"

"I think that Modesty's hint is as strong as ours," he replied, "but we should trade places."

"Is that a smart idea?" Becky asked him. "I mean, Dave and Rue just had a bit of an argument, and I doubt he'd want to see her."

"A problem he'll have to deal with," Veronica said in a steely voice. It surprised Modesty, and probably everyone else but Balthazar. "I understand what Balthazar is saying. Imagine if Cyril gets to the clock at the same time you three do. Imagine what kind of confrontation would play out. We have more of an insight to this situation than you do. If we go and meet Cyril or Dave's sister or his father, we know what to say. We can somehow work their emotional strings to our advantage; we know Dave. We know how he feels about them. You, on the other hand, have only known Dave for a short amount of time."

"That's…a good idea," Rue said.

"Okay, fine," Mother said. "You three, get going towards the temple, whereas we will find David. I know where he lives."

"Give us directions to the temple," Becky demanded. Modesty launched into the address immediately. She repeated it three times over. Balthazar and Veronica seemed to be memorizing it while Becky hurried to get it down in her own head.

"All right," Modesty said when they finished. "We should really hurry. What if something beats Dave to his place?" It was a rhetorical question, of course. They all bounded down the stairs like a pack of animals. When they were outside of the university, Rue turned around and muttered something that sounded like, "Good luck to you all."

And surprisingly, Becky replied, "The same to you."

Who knew? Rue had some manners. But it was no time for jokes. Her mother tugged on her arm. They were going to use magical transportation, since using a portal would take too long. Modesty and Rue braced themselves for a dizzy after-effect.

Within seconds, they were gone.

Dave collapsed into a nearby chair. He grinned to himself. He was completely satisfied with the progress he was making. If only Balthazar was here to see… He shoved the thought away. There was no time for any of that nonsense. He had to continue with the spell. Dave wiped away the sweat that was on his forehead, and rubbed the nape of his neck clean too. Dave stood up uneasily and went back to the Incantus. He already memorized the Seffner Wall spell after thirty-five tries. It had taken him some time to actually project the spell itself, but so far, it was working out slowly and rationally. Dave smirked as he hurried to Merlin's Circle. He was getting along better by himself than training with Balthazar. And his master claimed he had no focus! He'd show him. Maybe he could even put Balthazar back in the Wall to get some alone time with Becky later on.

"Stop thinking of them," Dave commanded himself. "We need to get this spell down." He pretended he grabbed all his thoughts and locked them inside of a box that remained in his head. It was childishly done, but it worked. When Dave entered the Circle, his mind was empty and cleared of anything that might serve as a distraction. The way to create the Wall was actually simple; all it took was an arm gesture. Of course, it wasn't so easy to keep the Wall from falling down.

Dave's arm shot out and slashed against air. His hand was positioned in a certain way that might mean he was swatting a fly away. The dragon ring glowed angrily. Dave could feel the energy leaving him; the same energy that would be used to construct the Seffner Wall.

To other people, they couldn't see the Wall. Not even sorcerers. Only the person creating it could actually see it. Dave knew this as he took the time to study every aspect and sentence of the Seffner Wall. He stayed put to make sure he was trapping successfully. To substitute for a person, he used his dog as a replacement.

The walls sparkled like luminous diamonds. They were flexible and made the same noises pure force fields would make. They rose like silk blankets off the floor. A box surrounded his dog now. Tank growled. He may not be able to see it, Dave thought, but he sure can sense something. Tank continued to bark at the walls he couldn't see. Dave felt pity for him.

"Sorry, Tank," Dave apologized. "But it's for the greater good."

The Seffner Wall was finished. It wavered slightly. Tank leapt up and scratched at the walls. He even tried to bite at it.

"Bad dog!" Dave said, although he knew nothing except large power from the outside could break it.

Tank stayed put. He didn't seem to like it. He kept watching the walls with suspicious eyes. Finally, Dave saw that the walls collapsed. He frowned and attempted to start again, but Tank scampered away. He yelped, pleased to be free of the cursed Seffner Wall.

"TANK!" Dave cried. "Come on, it wasn't that bad!"

He didn't pursue the dog. Instead, he hurried to the Incantus and looked at another page he had dog-eared. The spell was written in dark, bold letters to ensure the person reading knew what he was looking at. Dave grimaced at the page, but he really didn't have a choice. Dave fingered the page and wondered what Balthazar would think. Would he be horrified to learn that his apprentice was trying to figure out a dark spell such as this? What about Veronica? He didn't really know Veronica all that well; they got along just fine and she made sure he was on track of schoolwork and stuff like that, but there was nothing else. Dave was positive that when he finally learned and performed this spell, it would ruin whatever good relationship they had established. And Becky. Dave's heart began to pump a little bit faster. What on earth would Becky think of him? He had a clear goal and he knew what he wanted to do with this spell. But Becky would view him as…a villain. He'd be no better than Horvath. Dave felt a lump rise in his throat. She didn't understand. Neither did Balthazar or Veronica. They didn't have to face a father who almost killed his wife. They didn't have to deal with anything he had to. They got off lucky. Why did their opinions matter? It was his life.

Dave's fingers tightened around the page. It started to create a few rips. Dave made a final decision and with the flick of his wrist, tore off the page. He held it in his fist and made his way up the stairs. He shut the door, but didn't lock it. Dave went to his room in the apartment and grabbed a jacket. He stuffed the page inside the pocket. Dave hadn't practiced the spell at all, but something inside of him told him he'd be able to do it just fine. With that, Dave snatched his cell phone off the coffee table in the living room. He knew where he was going to go.

Modesty was the first to reach the apartment, since she had been the first to be transported. She thought about waiting for Rue and her mother, but decided against it. She needed to find Dave right away. Modesty pushed through the double doors and threw herself at a random person in the lobby. She could hear footsteps coming nearer and nearer. Rue, or her mother.

"Excuse me!" she said to the frail-looking elder. "But do you know which room is David Stutler's?"

"The Stutler boy?" the grandmotherly woman asked, looking faintly surprised. "Why, yes, he lives on the thirteenth floor, 13D."

"Thanks a ton," she told the woman. Modesty bounded up the stairs and screamed over her shoulder, "Really, thanks!"

The apartment should have held an elevator at the least. It was impossible to get up to the stairs without a functioning mechanical device to bring her up there by itself. Seriously, what was the use of today's technology if no one bought it? Modesty forced herself to continue, even though she was already exhausted.

Modesty almost tripped on a stair when she reached the twelfth floor. She caught herself and hurried on. She could hear Rue and her mother panting as they ran up the stairs as well. When Modesty got to the final floor, she was drenched with sweat. Modesty knocked on 13D. Nothing. She knocked again.

"David!" she yelled. "Dave, it's me, Modesty!"

The door opened quickly. Modesty's eyes widened and gratitude filled her bones. Unfortunately, she was disappointed with the person in front of her.

A dark-skinned, young man was there. "Hello?" he said, looking somewhat confused.

"My name is Modesty Kay, is David here?" she asked in a rush.

He seemed alarmed now. "Dave? I came here a few minutes ago and he passed by on the way out. You just missed him."

"Please, do you know where he went?" Someone else took her question. Modesty looked over her shoulder and saw Rue.

"Um, I asked him about it. When he ran down the stairs, he mentioned something about… I dunno, a temple?"

"You have got to be kidding me," Rue snapped. "He went there? Are you serious?"

"He's on his way," the guy said, shrugging. "Sorry. But hey, maybe you can still catch him."

"We missed him," Modesty repeated. "And he's heading to the temple."

"Hey, do you know him?" the man asked. "I could give him a call. He took his phone with him."

"Oh, please do!" Modesty said while Rue shouted, "Finally!" The guy gave them weird looks, but he did dial the number. He put it on speakerphone. Modesty shifted her weight from one foot to another. Rue didn't look nervous. Her face was a mask. Eventually, her mother arrived.

"So many ladies," the guy murmured. "I didn't think Dave had this many female friends."

Rue kind of smiled. "We just met him."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Rue answered, leaning against the chipped wall.

"Well, maybe you can meet me," the guy said slyly. "I'm Bennet."

Jesus! Modesty ignored his flirtatious attempts and focused on the ring of the phone. Dave still hadn't picked up.

"Rue Carver," her friend replied. Modesty shot her a glare. Why was she flirting at a time like this? And she rarely flirted!

"Rue," her mother warned dangerously.

"Calm down, Modessa. So Bennet, is Dave gonna pick up anytime soon?"

Before Bennet could answer, something miraculous happened. Dave's voice was heard.

"Bennet, this isn't the time."

"I've got three girls… Two girls, and a woman here that say they want to know where you are. I told them but I don't-"

"Dave, please stop," Modesty begged. "You have no idea where you are going."

"To the temple," Dave answered. "I know. You see, I've recently learned where I need to go."

"How?" Rue demanded.

"In my mother's journal," he said. "It says my father took her there once to view the famous heirloom of the Stutler family. And I know what he's here for. I don't need your help. Please just go away. Balthazar and-"

"Balthazar is on his way," Modesty's mother interrupted. "And I won't have you hurting yourself for some silly idea of yours. David, stop in your tracks."

"I am not having someone tell me what to do. I'm almost there; don't call again."

"No, your father! Your father, he's been released," Rue shouted.

"I felt something strange. I didn't know why, but I do now. Listen, Rue, thanks for trying to help, but I don't need it."

"David-" Modesty was cut off immediately.

"No! Listen, I've got this plan. Okay, I'm going to go."

"WAIT! Before you leave, tell us what you're going to do!" Rue screamed.

"Can't launch into all the details," Dave said hurriedly. "But I'll give you this: It's the Parasite Spell, okay? Bye."

With that, he hung up. A dead, deep silence filled the corridor. Rue glared at the phone before looking at Bennet.

"Was he talking about some spell?" Bennet asked. "Is this about some Wizards and Warcraft-"

"Thanks for your help, Bennet," Rue said. She aimed at him with her ring and a loud explosion rocked the corridor. Modesty fell. She looked up to see Bennet with a dazed expression upon his face. He shook his head quickly and then blinked.

"What's going on?" he asked. He seemed to sway a little. "Am I drunk?"

"Yeah, yeah, a little," Rue said. She prepared to leave.

"I'm…I'm Bennet," Bennet introduced, smiling sneakily.

"I'm Rue!" she shouted on the top of her lungs as she ran down the steps. "Rue Carver!"

Mother pulled Modesty to her feet and together, they raced after Rue down the stairs.

The temple was constructed of entirely of metal and steel. It wasn't even a temple. The thing was similar to a skyscraper, complete with a tapering point made of gleaming steel. It had no trace of brick or any substance similar to that. In fact, it looked like a thousand men came together to create the beauty. Just like in ancient times, when Romans had no way to make their ageless structures of magnificence. Dave didn't even bother to admire the piece of work. The temple scared him. Inside, he knew he was going to deal with Damien Stutler. He knew that sooner or later, he would arrive. Dave wondered what kind of people came into this temple. And who was Charlotte Markov? What connections did she have with magic? Dave decided to ignore all that. He looked over his shoulder and saw the setting sun. Dave felt deep longing fill his bones. He felt his cell phone grow cold in his hand. He texted Becky:

Sorry for leaving u like that. I have to do something really important and if u love me, please don't come to the temple. Damien will HURT u, k? Sorry. Love you. I'm at my apartment.

He pressed the send button, then removed the SIM card from his phone. He threw the useless object into a nearby trash can. The card soon joined it. Dave watched it without feeling regret. He took a deep breath, then pushed aside the heavy doors.

"Dave! Decided to join us?"

It wasn't Damien. It wasn't even Cyril. It was Rachael.

And there was Levy, shackled and at her feet, her blond hair in Rachael's gloved hand. The other hand held a knife that was near Levy's throat.

Dave felt his body drain of color. He was ice-cold. His numb fingers trembled. Dave was sure his eyes were as large as sand dollars.

"Rachael," he said in his best steady voice, "what are you doing to Levy?"

"This little rat hasn't paid her debt to me. Now, she is."

"Come on, Rachael. Let her go."

"Who do you think you are, telling me what to do? A little boy, my baby brother, challenging his older sister?" Rachael smiled.

He was on thin ice. He could barely contain himself. It was difficult to control his voice. "Are you mad because she let me go?"

"That's wrong, Davey," Rachael said, her voice a puff of fog. "I don't care about that, or the fact she handed Gwen's journal to you."

"Why is she here?"

"She's here because this is how she'll pay off her debt. Well, half of it anyways," Rachael said. "The other half will be much too gory for your childish eyes."

"Let her go, Rachael!" Dave snapped.

"Want to know how it went?" Rachael whispered. "I was at the house with Uncle, and I did everything right. I got all the stuff for the whole process, and I even performed the spells right. I did it all. I didn't need anyone's help. Damien rose in the form of smoke, he came before us. And you know what he did?"

She paused and smiled at him. Her teeth glinted under the lit chandelier.

Dave swallowed and shook his head.

"All he did was talk about you!" she screamed. "All he said was, 'Where's David?' or 'Where's my son?' Not one time did he speak about me! He didn't even say hello! No hugs, no kisses! No 'How are you, dearest daughter?' He didn't care about me! It was all about you!"

Her hands were shaking now. The knife trembled as well; it seemed ready to slip from her hands. Rachael shook her head hurriedly. She licked her lips and kept murmuring to herself. She was repeating something over and over. Levy, who had remained silent, looked frightened and shocked. She looked desperate too. Dave had an inkling she wanted to tell him something, but couldn't.

"I did everything. Uncle didn't even compliment me," Rachael whispered, her lips moving quickly. "No one told me any good things. Cyril bossed me around and treated me like a little kid. No one gave a damn about how well I was doing. It was all about you, Dave. They don't look twice at a good Morganian girl, they want Mr. Goody Two-Shoes. Oh, you're the Prime Merlinian! Why don't you deserve the treatment? So let me ask you, Dave. How does it feel to be the Prime, the greatest of them all?"

"Rachael," Dave said. "Please. Let Levy go. She didn't have anything to do with this. This is between me and you. If you're mad, don't direct your anger towards her."

"I asked you something. Now. Answer. It." She brought the knife closer to Levy's throat. Her eyes grew large. They watered.

"Rachael… Please let her go."

"Answer my freaking question!" Rachael screamed. A thin trickle of blood danced down Levy's pure white throat.

Dave felt his heart sink. It didn't matter what he did or said. He could beg, he could cry, he could offer anything in the world. But Rachael wouldn't give in. she wouldn't be satisfied with him. Never. Her eyes were glassy and still, even though her body and voice was out of control. As soon as Dave had entered, he had lost his sister. The rational person inside of her was gone. A sociopath had taken that person's place.

He had no choice but to go along with it. If he didn't, Levy would be the victim.

"Okay," he said quickly. "I'll tell you how it feels. It feels horrible."

"Liar," she said simply. "You truly want me to kill her."

"No, I don't." He took a deep breath. "It feels horrible. It feels like a lot of people depend on me. That if I don't get one spell right or if I don't say the right things, everyone's going down with me. It feels like my family hates me and wants me to change even when I'm content with being a Merlinian. It feels like everyone just loves to barge into my life and change me. It feels terrible because my own sister doesn't like me. She hates me, and I know we used to be good siblings. She hates me because of it, because I think our father pays more attention to me when he shouldn't."

Rachael brought the knife a little bit away from Levy's knife. For the first time, it seemed like there was hesitance on her face.

A little light bulb shone over Dave's head. "I wish he approved of her. Damien, I mean."

He inched closer. Not very close because there was more distance, but just a few inches.

"Does…he love you?" Rachael whispered.

"Our father? I have no idea. Maybe he just likes to torture me."

Rachael paused. She considered this. While she was distracted, Dave quickly whispered, directly at Levy, "Talk to me inside my head," he hissed.

Her eyes grew wider, and she nodded. The sound of clanking chains brought Rachael back to earth.

"What did you say?" she asked softly.

"Um, nothing."

Dave! Can you hear me?

Yes! Okay, I'm going to try to distract her. She's insane, out of her mind. When she's put off and doesn't seem too focused, do something to get her knife away from your throat. And get yourself out.

Okay.

"I hear a bug," Rachael said abruptly.

"I don't hear anything," Dave said. "Rachael? Do you hate me?"

"I want to. I kind of do, actually."

"I should tell you something," Dave lied. "Something Dad once told me. It was about you."

She gasped. "Tell me!" she screamed.

"Okay, okay! But relax, all right?"

"…Okay, I guess." Her body did relax. The grip on her blade wasn't so tight anymore.

"The thing Dad told me about you when we were little was-" He nodded at Levy. In that moment, she threw her head back. It socked Rachael right in her stomach. Rachael let out a cry of alarm. She dropped her knife. It fell to the floor and clattered loudly. Levy instantly threw herself across the floor, as far away as she could get from Rachael. The chains made a ruckus as she moved. Rachael was momentarily surprised. But then, she hissed and made a wild move for the knife. Dave was there in a second. He moved like a panther and kicked the blade away from her. Rachael growled at him. She swiped at Dave. Dave felt a slight tear. He put his hand to his cheek. When he removed it, he saw drops of red on his palm. Dave heard the clash chains. He looked up quickly and saw Rachael grab Levy.

"Rachael!" Dave ran towards them, but Rachael held up a hand. She smiled at Dave.

"We are going to settle this, little brother," she said. "Like you said, this is between you and me."

"Okay, okay, that's fine." It was fine. As long as Levy didn't get hurt.

"We're going to the final floor of the temple," Rachael told him. "No one will be able to reach it in time without the aid of magical transportation."

Dave was suddenly grateful Balthazar and the others would come. He had already told Modesty where he was going. She would remind them and they'd be able to get to the temple in time.

As if reading his mind, Rachael said, "And to make sure none of your stupid friends interfere…" She snapped her fingers and released a sharp sigh.

"A nice little spell to ensure they'll wander the same floor over and over again," Rachael said, smiling at him. "I'm sure Uncle used to same trick on them. They won't be able to get out, of course."

Dave knew, and he felt his hopes go down the toilet. "Let's go," he said darkly.

"Yes. Get over here, but don't try to get blondie here." She pointed to Levy.

"I won't," Dave promised. He moved to her side. Rachael rested a hand on his shoulder.

He felt like he was trapped in a tornado. When it was over, he stumbled to his side. Dave couldn't help but allow the sensation of wooziness take over. It was hard to resist. He wasn't used to magical transportation. Balthazar hadn't taught it to him yet, but he knew what is was used for.

Dave dusted off his jeans. He watched Rachael. His crazy sister dragged Levy to the corner of the room. Marble columns were holding up the ceiling. Rachael was able to wrap the chains around the column, securing Levy to it. She checked to make sure she did a good job, then snapped her fingers again. This time, nothing happened. Before, Dave could feel the magic being hitched in the air.

"To keep her mouth shut," Rachael explained. She moved to the middle of the room. "Okay, little brother. Let's begin this, shall we?"

Dave shut his eyes, but opened them soon enough. He exhaled carefully. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Levy. She was still scared, he knew. The blood had dried on her neck. Dave felt himself clench his hands into fists. A long time ago, it was Becky who was in trouble, captured by Horvath to gain something. But now, it was his childhood friend Levy that needed to be rescued. And if Dave had to battle his demented sister in order to save her, he would.

He remembered what she said to him when he was in his cell-and-room. Levy had made him promise he would get her out of a situation. She knew that either Cyril or Rachael would kill her eventually. She should have fled before, but was too weak to do so. She had always been a delicate bird.

It was time to repay her.

That chapter almost killed me. I struggled with it, for sure. I didn't know who to place at the temple first: Rachael, Cyril, or Damien. I figured out how things will be resolved, though. I am very sad to report that something terrible with happen, but something good in return. I pity Levy. Poor girl... But that's what you get with mixing with Morganians! I've grown somewhat attached to Rachael. When I was writing her behavior in this chapter, I knew how it fit her. If you paid close attention to her in all the chapters, you can pretty much see that she isn't really involved. She's like the henchgirl in all of this. It would make sense for her to act like this.

-TracedScar