Bec by Darren Shan Page A

gripped by his power and the promise of comfort. The demon — Lord Loss — smiles and nods again. This isn’t right. He’s making me do his bidding and nothing good can come of that. But I can’t resist. I’m filled with a sense of grief and only Lord Loss seems able to help.
    Then Drust is by my side, talking quickly. “Use magic. This demon is of the Otherworld, of the stars. He generates power. Take it. Use it.
Fight.
”
    My body continues forward as though Drust hadn’t spoken. But my mind’s in a whirl. I’ll die if I come within the demon’s reach. He’ll suck all the life from me and toss me aside, or keep me on as a member of the undead. I try using Old magic spells to fight him but I can’t move my lips to utter the words.
    Drust’s warning echoes. The demon is of the stars. He generates power. I recall my recent lessons, the spells Drust tried to teach me, how he encouraged me to draw from the stars, to channel magic from a celestial source.
    With my mind, heart, and spirit, I reach out to Lord Loss. I feel his power, his magic. And I draw from it. I rip it from him sharply, fiercely, filling with it, hair shooting up straight, eyes widening, arms flying out wide.
    The demon gasps and rises a few feet higher off the ground. I float too, supported by magic, drawing my power from the sky instead of the earth, becoming part of the world of the air.
    I turn my hands palms down. Two large stones rise from the ground, ripping free, dripping soil and pebbles, floating upward. They stop short of my hands, which I slide behind the stones. I look from hand to hand, stone to stone. Then at Lord Loss. I smile — and
push.
The stones zip towards him.
    The demon’s arms shoot out and the stones explode into clouds of dust and tiny brittle shards. Everybody ducks to avoid being pierced. Except me and Lord Loss. We remain motionless, supported by the air and magic, staring at each other.
    Some of the stone splinters strike the demon’s cheeks and open fresh, deep cuts. He doesn’t look angry or surprised. Just sad.
    “Such potential,” the demon sighs. “What a waste. To die so young, when you could achieve so much...”
    “Begone!” Drust roars, getting to his feet, linking his right hand with my left. I fill with even more power than before. I feel like I could reach up and quench the stars themselves. “Go or fight!” Drust shouts.
    “Fight?” the demon chuckles. “I could destroy you both without even nearing my limits.” One hand starts to point at us. Then stops. The demon lowers his arms. “But where would be the sport in that?” he murmurs. And then he turns smoothly and drifts away into the darkness of the night.
    Just when I think he’s gone, there comes a call from the shadows. “You stole from me, Bec. You took magic that was not yours. Pain will come of that. And great sorrow. And death.” A teasing pause, then he adds, “It starts tomorrow.”
    Then he really is gone, leaving behind silence, confusion . . . and terror.
    Connla’s alive. He rises when the demon leaves. Pale and shivering. He says he was asleep until my shout, that he couldn’t move when he woke, held in place by magic. Drust checks to see if the demon has fed from him but can find no marks on the warrior’s flesh.
    I’m not interested in Connla or why Lord Loss was whispering to him in his sleep instead of killing him. I have time only for magic. I’ve never felt this powerful or so alive. The world looks and feels completely different. I can see as if it’s day. The stars are brighter than a full moon, shining through the cover of the clouds, pulsing, multicolored. And they’re connected! I couldn’t see it until tonight but now it’s obvious. The sky’s like a giant system of roots, each star linked. The lines between the stars are veins of magical power. The sky is alive. I can draw magic from it, just as Banba taught me to draw from a tree or a stag.
    I reach out with my mind and suck in power. I want it