The spell was not difficult, on paper. Nausea flared up in the pit of Astrid’s stomach as she used her brother’s blood to saturate the cloth doll. It wasn’t quite voodoo––she didn’t have any real education on magical history, but she knew enough to know that the spell wasn’t voodoo––but it was the closest thing to it she had ever put into practice. Each movement was careful not to get any excess gore on her fingertips, but speedy enough just to ensure that Richard didn’t faint where he was standing.

Who came up with these things, anyway? How did people make spells that involved decapitating a voodoo doll to cure a city of sleepiness? With Aiden’s borrowed knife and on Mal’s tentative approval (at least that’s what she figured the terse nod was for), she gingerly sliced off the head of the doll and placed both separate parts in the center of the circle, on opposite sides of the well of blood.

The more she looked at the ‘head’, the more it looked like one rather than a bound ball of cloth and straw.

A soft blue glow diffused through the pre-drawn lines of the circle, and Mal gestured for them all to sit down––[b][color=b3df1f]”For the drain,”[/color][/b] he said between chewing on his lip and rereading the spell criteria––before starting the spell. His gaze slipped to King more than once. He was searching for any sign of weakness, of course, that could jeopardize the spell. He wasn’t worried about him, not at all. No siree.

[color=b3df1f][b]“When the spell starts, after the incantation, we have to hold our form. I think it’ll be, well,”[/b][/color] he swallowed. [color=b3df1f][b]“A wild ride.”[/b][/color]

[color=ab2020][b]“Good. Sounds like fun.”[/b][/color] King took his seat, pressing the awkwardly wrapped wound down onto his knee for the added pressure, [color=ab2020][b]“Let’s just get this over with, where’s the dumb spell sheet-”[/b][/color] He reached over carefully to pluck the paper from the ground behind them and read over the incantation once, twice, before putting it outside the circle. Cracking a bone in his neck, King leaned forward and gave each of his four companions a hard and understanding stare.

[color=ab2020][b]“All of you quit worrying, by the way. Your bad vibes are fucking up with my head.”[/b][/color] He waved his wounded hand around quickly, the blood stained rag nearly slipping from his palm due to the ferocity of the gesture. [color=ab2020][b]“I’m fine. Now get ready. I’m going to start the chant.”[/b][/color]

His head fell, eyes focusing on the dark red splotch on the cloth, and with a droning voice he began to recite the incantation.

At first, it seemed like nothing happened. Jessica did a small double take — was the spell a dud? Were they not powerful enough? Anxiously, she chewed on her bottom lip until she was sure that there were specks of her lipstick staining her teeth. It was after the third time that she shifted her sitting position uneasily that the spell began to truly take effect. Jessica felt the magic hum in the air — so subtly that she dismissed it as just paranoia or something at first. As the hum grew and grew until she swore she could hear it, her back began to slump as she felt her strength getting sapped away by the spell. It wasn’t a new feeling by any means, every magic-user knows the feeling of slight fatigue after casting a spell. Jessica had never felt it to this degree though — it was like a parched person desperately sucking at water through a straw; unrelenting, fast, and desperate.

Perhaps it was the fact that they were too preoccupied with this massive spell that they didn’t notice another presence until it was too late.

[b]“Y-you…! Stop right there!”[/b] A wavering voice pierced through the thick veil of magic.

Jessica’s shoulders visibly jumped at the sudden voice, and her gaze snapped up to its source in alarm. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the guy’s face — she’s never been particularly good at remembering them but she swore that it looked familiar. [color=coral][b]“Who the hell are you?”[/b][/color]

[color=9400D3][b]“It’s the cop that stopped us when we came into Seattle.”[/b][/color] Aiden supplied through gritted teeth. [color=9400D3][b]“Guess he’s magical too, since he’s not asleep like the rest of them…”[/b][/color]

Mal shuddered as the miasma of otherworldly effects was penetrated by an outsider, like a tiny pinprick in a old balloon, deflating it slowly. A light in the pattern of woven spells blinked out. He quickly muttered under his breath, [color=b3df1f][b]“King, keep reciting,”[/b][/color] and though he thought he could turn around and stand up to face the unwanted intrusion, magic willed it otherwise. He was pinned in his current position, able to only move in small gestures.

Plus, he was feeling a little light-headed. He hadn’t used [i]that[/i] much energy beforehand, had he? [color=b3df1f][b]“Keep reciting so we don’t die––or worse, end up drained, and the poor Sleeping Beauties in the city don’t get saved,”[/b][/color] he repeated, loud enough this time for the cop to hear it.

[b]“Stop what you’re doing,”[/b] the cop said, though only slightly more uncertain than he was before. [b]“I’m armed and I [i]will[/i] draw on you. Put your––”[/b] He was interrupted by the crack of ozone above their heads, but forged on. [b]“Hands where I can see them!”[/b]

Despite stuck in one place, in one position, Mal snarled out, [color=b3df1f][b]“Listen! We’re fixing whatever was done here. If you’re going to shoot us like you’re supposed to, do it [i]after[/i] we wake up a few hundred thousand people!”[/b][/color] On the third run-through of the incantation, the circle lit up fully with a bright, blinding light. In his mind’s eye, the alchemist could see each and every individual spiral of the spell’s inner workings coming to life. The magic being leached out of their reservoirs flooded into a kaleidoscope of colours, like food colouring in water. Its destination was the doll.

(King’s magic was as red as blood, ebbing out of him slowly and surely. If the mechanics of magic were not so wondrous, Mal would have cringed away from the sight of it.)

A jolt of electricity ran down his spine, and it seemed as if the others felt the same sensation of discomfort. The magic dissipated, and some of it – the excess – blessedly returned to them like an an elastic band pulled too far and snapping back.

They were not the only one to feel it. The cop’s legs almost buckled under his weight, and he was forced to keep himself upright with one hand on the grassy hill. [b]“What was that? What did you do? Tell me,”[/b] he demanded, though it was clear he didn’t have the strength to do anything, let alone overcome five magically gifted teenagers.

Astrid wiped at her eyes in a futile attempt to stave away a headache. [color=6d98f3][b]“We tried to wake up Seattle. It might have… I think it worked.”[/b][/color] The eclipsing fog was clearing up, and for the first time in almost a day, it was possible to see the city’s skyline in all its beauty –– and horror. Fires brought on by the damage from the initial sleeping spell had not yet been put out. People would wake up to chaos.  [color=6d98f3][b]“Look, sir, we’re not the ones who did all this, but we’re the ones who tried to fix it.”[/b][/color] She tried to rub some feeling back into her legs, which had gone numb with an unnatural cold during the spell, so that she could stand.  [color=6d98f3][b]“Are you going to make this difficult and arrest us, or are you going to let us get out of here before the cavalry’s called in?”[/b][/color]

There was a pause where it seemed as if the officer was going to go for his gun, having made his decision. Instead, he straightened himself up, albeit weakly. [b]“Yeah. Go,”[/b] he said. [b]“Go before I change my mind.”[/b]

It didn’t leave them much time to lick their wounds and return to the van, but there was a chance.