Three missiles, trailing blue energy, slammed into the ghosts, knocking them back slightly. But this attack failed to stop them, igniting their fury. Their inaudible screams shattered glass and tore yellow leaves from the trees.
Magic expenditure is limited by mental energy. Salomon was near his limit.
Seeing the missiles were ineffective, the mages grabbed the panting Wong and ran. Anyone could understand fleeing in an unwinnable fight—but the ghosts pursued relentlessly. The White family heirloom remained in Salomon's pocket.
"I… I can run!" Wong panted, struggling to stretch his tired legs. He recalled books warning of those possessed by ghosts, and these spirits were clearly powerful. He missed the café chairs, the comfort, the simple pleasure of a snack.
Salomon tore a parchment from his waist pocket. Silver magic particles enveloped him, then disappeared. He repeated the spell on Wong. He slowed, turned, and clasped his hands together.
"Hurry!" Wong urged, anxious for a pay phone to contact Kamar-Taj.
"Fight! Brother Wong, now they can't possess us. We can fight!" Orange-red sparks danced between Salomon's palms, forming arcs of energy.
"What? Are you crazy?" Wong exclaimed.
"the Supreme decreed this operation be secret. No assistance allowed," Salomon said.
The three rings could channel Vishanti's magic. He could not let anyone else know. If exposed, the Sorcerer Supreme's plan to curb Vishanti worship would be thwarted.
Salomon narrowed his eyes at the rushing ghosts. Beams of Vishanti's magic gathered between his palms, arcs of sparks forming. Beneath the ghosts, a thin black mist spread.
"Thief… return… leave…"
The mist thickened. The streets, slick from recent rain, froze.
"Fuck off!" Salomon unleashed a chain of searing positive energy. Ghosts shrieked, howling in agony.
"Die…" They lunged, met with magical machetes. Salomon cut through one ghost's negative-energy body, but others knocked him over.
Just as they were about to pounce, Wong slammed a ghost to the ground, using a protective spell compiled by the Supreme to rescue Salomon.
"What do we do now?" Wong asked anxiously.
"I…" Salomon paused, then resolved himself. "Help hold them off. I can finish them." He touched the other two rings. Warmth surged, then scorching heat clung to his fingers as he slipped them on.
"Salomon!" Wong shouted, seeing him kneel, engulfed in magical flame. His robes singed, long curly hair twisted, and the heat expanded the air, blowing Wong back.
The spirits were thrown into chaos, their skeletons disintegrating into pure magic.
"Don't come near me!" Salomon shouted hoarsely. His skin blistered, lips cracked, and he vomited thick, crimson liquid. The asphalt beneath softened. Layers of scorched skin fell away, revealing bright red muscle tissue beneath.
Even blinded and tortured, he knew where the magic converged. Three faces appeared: a tiger, a man, and a woman.
Hoggoth, Agamotto, and Oshtur.
"F*uck you, Vishanti." Salomon raised his hand. His vocal cords were useless, blood dried to his jaw, leaving him mute. He used the last of his strength to unbutton the holy cloth.
-End Chapter-
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