Chapter Twenty Four
A second after she leaves, a hand grabs my arm and lifts me the rest of the way to my feet.
“Think you can climb a ladder on your own?” Al half carries me, half guides me through the long grass.
“My own?” My heart beats a little faster. “What about you? You aren’t going to fight, are you?”
“I’ll be right behind you, promise. I’m just wondering if I need to carry you.”
“I can climb,” I assure him.
He slows down and steps behind me to take each of my hands in his own. His chest presses against my back and forces me to continue forward, but only a few feet. If I couldn’t feel the creature coming ever closer, I might have been tempted to enjoy the extra bit of contact. Even with the immediate danger, I can’t help but feel a little safer while he’s wrapped around me like this.
It’s hard at first to judge the distance between each step, especially since they seem to be placed so unevenly. And then things get immensely worse when the ladder shifts and shakes as Al starts to climb with me.
“Is this thing made to carry two people?” I ask when there’s a foreboding creak from somewhere beneath me.
“No choice,” he says. “The griffin’s already circling.”
As though on cue, the creature cries out, the sound much closer than I’m expecting. I move a bit faster, but it only makes me clumsier as I misjudge my next step and my foot slips out from under me.
I hold tighter with my hands and quickly regain my footing, only to have the ladder jerk to one side as Al attempts to ward off the creature. When I reach for the next step, my hand meets the wood of the door instead. The magic shrouding it has a bit of the danger I felt inside of the house, but it doesn’t hurt in nearly the same way.
After a few seconds of urgently patting the wood and reaching higher and higher, I finally find the handle and turn it.
“Al?” I say while fighting to stay balanced on the ladder as it shifts under me again, this time with my feet on the top rung and my hands holding on to nothing but the handle of the door. “I need the key.”
No answer. And the griffin is starting to sound much too pleased with the whole situation. I desperately try the door handle again, this time pouring some of my magic into it to see if it will open it. The magic protecting the door simply absorbs what I put into it, making me feel more drained.
“Al!”
One hand grips my hip while one of his legs snakes in between mine on the same ladder rung as I’m standing. He pulls himself up so he’s flat against me with my hair in his face and once again I feel the fleeting bit of excitement at his touch. Until the step we’re both on cracks.
“Hold on,” he says.
“To what?”
Before he can answer, the handle twists in my hand and the door swings out toward me. Without Al behind me, I would have instantly fallen backward off the ladder, but somehow he manages not only to shift his own weight to the side and out of the way of the door, but mine as well.
I fall forward and catch my balance the only way I can, by lunging forward. My shoulder slams against the doorframe, but I’m able to get the rest of me inside the house without any more incidents.
The creature’s final screech of anger is cut off as Al closes the door quickly behind us.
“That was—“
His hand slaps over my mouth before I can finish while his other arm snakes around my waist and pulls me back. For a split second my instinct tells me to fight, but then I hear what Al must have already caught. There’s someone nearby.
I can’t tell at first if they are upstairs or down, but then two voices speak and I realize the sound is coming from the living room. It’s like a twisted version of when I was young and would hold my breath and pretend to be asleep while Mom and Gran would argue.
Al lets his hand fall from my mouth, but leaves his other arm wrapped around me. Slowly, so as to make as little noise as possible, we move as one away from the stairs and into Gran’s old bedroom.
“What now?” I whisper when I’m sure it’s safe.
“We wait for your sister.”
Standing around and waiting is not something I’m very good at. I have to force myself not to start pacing since I know how creaky the old hardwood floor can be. I wish I knew where Mom is and if she’s safe. I want to bang down each of the doors until I find her, but that’s not the plan. Cindy needs to distract them first, and then we can make our move.
What is taking her so long?
I know I’m stretching my magic thin already and I should conserve what little I have left for the attack, but when I hear Cindy outside shouting, “Stewart! I’ve got what you want,” I can’t help but slip into her eyes and see for myself what’s happening.
As she waits in front of the house, Cindy’s focus darts from place to place so she’s able to take in everything and nothing at the same time. I have no idea how she can keep her eyes moving so fast. After only a few seconds of her nervous glancing I’m already starting to feel nauseated.
Her eyes shift most often to the door and the windows at the front of the house. Once she glances up and a shadow in the top floor window startles me. Someone’s watching her from upstairs. And not from just anywhere upstairs, but from Gran’s bedroom.
I’m about to jump out of her head before I realize it is Al and me she’s seeing. She takes in our shadow for a second longer before moving her head in a nod.
Then the door opens and her focus goes to the entrance to the house. I brace myself, ready to see the man who not only has taken my mother, but also ripped the magic from my body and left me for dead.
Except, there’s no one in the doorway.
They must have opened the door using magic. Instead of meeting her outside as I’d assumed they would, they’re going to force Cindy to go inside, leaving her with nowhere to run.
She doesn’t move.
“Where’s my mother?” Her voice carries upstairs much better now the front door is open. “Let me see her or the deal’s off.”
“Of course, my dear,” Stewart says in his ever-calm way.
The sound of his voice only feet from me, although he’s downstairs while we’re up, is enough to break my connection with Cindy. If he shows her Mom, I don’t get to see it.
But I do hear her as Mom shouts, “Stay the hell away from my daughter, you sick son of a—“ before her voice is muffled.
I start to run from the room, ready to tear downstairs and kill anyone who gets in my way, but Al’s arm holds me still while his hand slides over my mouth again.
“Not yet,” he murmurs while I weakly fight him. “At least you know she’s alive. Let’s keep it that way.”
When I relax a little in his arms and nod my agreement to calm down, he leans away and to the window.
“Bring him outside, Sin,” he growls. “Don’t fall into his...Bugger.”
“What?” I ask. “What’s going on?”
“Stay here and stay low. I’m going to draw their attention. Don’t worry. I’ll keep them away from this room.”
“Wait, Al!” I hiss the words as loud as I dare, but he’s already gone.
I jump when there’s a creak of the floorboards down the hall and my first reaction is to prepare to fight. But there’s no one to battle with. It takes me several more tense moments to realize it was Al who made the noise, on purpose.
The voices downstairs stop the second they hear the creak, but nothing else happens. Al makes another, louder noise. This time I know they won’t be able to ignore him. Someone will have to come upstairs to investigate, and the second they find Al, they’ll kill him.
And then there’s Mom and Cindy downstairs. I can hear two men’s voices still, so why hasn’t Cindy used her phone yet? If she’s been hurt or been placed under some spell so she can’t take the photo, then I can’t leave them while I attempt to help Al.
When I hear the growling, grinding sound of the chimera followed by a muffled scream, I
stop thinking and push forward. I know the house well enough to be able to get to the stairs with only a small scrape against the side of the bedroom door. With my hand on the railing I start down the steps.
I make it down two before I sense the fragmented feel of a wizard’s magic. My heart pounds as I realize whoever was going to check on Al’s noise hasn’t actually made it all of the way to the top of the stairs yet. And I’ve run straight at him.
“You!” Borin’s voice is almost as embedded in my brain as Stewart’s, so I recognize it instantly. “You’re awake?”
Surprise!
Using the railing for balance, I do a forward jump kick with both feet, judging the distance between us based on the feel of his magic. I’m a little off, so when my kick lands a bit sooner than I expect, I’m not quite ready to balance myself against the force and end up smacking my knee pretty hard against the stairs.
From the sounds of it, my knee doesn’t hit nearly as hard as Borin does as he falls back downwards the stairs.
I don’t have time to be pleased with the kick since even if I managed to knock him out, there’s still the matter of his pet, not to mention Stewart.
“Lou,” Stewart’s voice echoes through the house, though he doesn’t seem to speak above a normal talking voice. “How nice to see you up and about.”
“Sweetie!” Mom shouts from downstairs, and I can tell she’s both relieved and terrified to know I’m there. The bastard must have told her what he did to me. “Run! Get out of here.”
She needn’t have bothered saying anything, since I’m already half running and half crawling back up the stairs.
“Watch them,” Stewart says all too pleasantly and my stomach sinks as I realize Borin must still be conscious. “I’m going to see if she tastes as good the second time.”
“Don’t you dare,” Mom shouts. “You stay away from her or so help me...”
“And Borin,” Stewart adds. “Take care of those two, will you?”
A set of hands grabs my arm as I make it to the top of the steps and pulls me to one side.
“I told you to stay,” Al growls, though I can tell there’s more fear in his voice than anger.
“I didn’t listen,” I say.
“Apparently not. Do you have the devise ready?”
“I gave it to Cindy.”
“You...” He’s silent for only a second, but it feels like it stretches for ages. “Fine. Stay back. I’ll deal with this.”
I grab at his arm to hold him back. “He’ll kill you.”
“Could you listen to me for once?” Although he’s trying to sound annoyed, the hand on my cheek tells me he’s actually worried.
“My dear Lou,” Stewart’s voice seems to be coming from everywhere. It echoes against each wall, making it impossible to know which direction I should face. “There is no point in running. You are a surprising little thing, aren’t you?”
The voice comes closer while Al shoves me back so he has more room to draw his sword.
“And the wizardling.” The sound of Stewart condenses until I can finally tell where he is in the room. “Are you still playing this game of protecting the sorceress? I’d expected you to have moved on by now.”
“Don’t,” Al says in a voice as dark as Stewart’s. “I won’t let you touch her.”
“My dear boy.” The amusement in Stewart’s tone instantly disappears. “Did you learn nothing from your last lesson?”
His magic builds impossibly fast and I’m barely able to throw up protection in time. It’s not enough to completely stop the blast of energy from hitting Al, but it’s enough to keep him alive.
A clash of metal against metal tells me when Al starts his attacks. I don’t know where Stewart got his sword, but from the sounds of the attacks, he’s as skilled as Al with the weapon. Maybe better. Clash after clash, and I know Al’s doing all he can to keep Stewart too busy to build up magic for another blast like the first. But I can also tell the fight with the griffin and the first attack from Stewart have taken their toll. The sounds of steel start to slow and I realize if I don’t do something now, I won’t get another chance.
There’s only one bit of magic I can think of that will do what needs to be done. But am I capable of murdering someone? Even if that person is Stewart. For all I know, Borin is downstairs killing my family right now. All because Stewart ordered him to. This is the same man who tricked my mother into loving him and is now fighting the one person I’ve ever felt any real connection with. He’ll kill Al if he has the chance, and then he’ll turn on me and once again take my magic. But this time, I will be left for dead since there’ll be no one left to bring me back.
I have no choice. I remember the spell I’d destroyed in the other world’s version of Gran’s house, and focus on the part meant for wizards in particular. The magic created to kill.
“Enough!” Stewart’s usual calm is broken as he yells the word.
I barely feel his magic until he’s already used it, but by then it’s too late to block the spell, though it doesn’t stop me from dropping my own on him. The sensation of magic is followed by a sickening crack and thud where I’m sure Al now lies after having been thrown across the room.
Without thinking, I rush over to him to help.
Another bit of magic, faster than a heartbeat, and I’m lifted and slammed into the wall behind me, the air smashed from my lungs.
Stewart’s amusement is back as he says, “I think I’m going to enjoy this more than usual.”