Cold Burn of Magic
Page 80
“Do it,” I said. “Tell me to run. Now. Before it’s too late.”
Devon sighed, but he cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to mine. “Run!” he yelled in the loudest voice he could muster.
For a moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if his voice had been strong enough for his magic to work. Then, it was as if a pair of hands reached inside my body and wrapped around my arms and legs. I felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled this way and that. Despite my many aches and pains, I had this sudden urge to do exactly what Devon said. To run and run and run until I either dropped dead of exhaustion or blood loss. The shape I was in, it was going to be the blood loss.
So I grabbed Devon’s hand, and we started running.
He kept up with me the best he could, but he still couldn’t go very fast, given his own injuries. He hissed with pain, but he didn’t ask me to slow down. He knew I couldn’t, not with his magic compelling me to run, run, run. So I tightened my grip on his hand and dragged him along with me. It was run, or die.
So we ran . . . and ran . . . and ran . . .
And slowly, much too slowly, the bridge loomed in front of us.
“You’re dead, Lila! Do you hear me? You’re both dead!”
Grant continued to shout behind us, but I didn’t dare turn around to see how close he was. All we had to do was make it across the bridge, and it wouldn’t matter. That was my plan, anyway—and the only hope Devon and I had left.
But a funny thing happened. We’d just started up the bridge when I realized that I didn’t feel the need to run anymore. That I wasn’t being compelled by his Talent. Instead, my own transference power had kicked in, and the cold rush of magic flowing through my veins was what was giving me the strength to run.
Devon and I hurried up the gentle curve of the bridge, but I tightened my grip on his hand and veered toward the stone set into the right side.
“What are you doing?” Devon croaked. “Are you crazy? They’re right behind us!”
I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. Grant and the other two men had closed the gap to a block. In a few more seconds, they’d start up the bridge and catch us.
I was counting on it.
I opened my fist and slapped my mom’s ring down on the stone in the center of the bridge, the stone marked with the three Xs. Somehow, the sapphire gleamed, despite my blood smeared all over the ring.
I tightened my grip on Devon’s hand, pulled him away from the edge, and hurried down the far side of the bridge.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that I heard a familiar, distinctive clink, as what I had offered up was accepted.
We stepped off the far side of the bridge when the last of the magic burned out of my body. I took a step forward and ended up falling to one knee before Devon could catch me. He hauled me back upright and put his arm around my waist again, but I couldn’t go any farther.
“Stop,” I whispered.
Devon tried to drag me forward, but my bare, bruised, bloody feet barely shuffled along the cobblestones. “We have to get out of here!”
“We’re safe,” I whispered again. “I know we are. So trust me. Please?”
Doubt flared in his eyes, but he nodded and stopped trying to drag me away. Instead, he turned so that we were both facing our enemies.
By this point, Grant and his men were on the bridge.
Grant realized we weren’t going to keep running, and he started laughing. “Making one final stand, eh? Don’t you know that you only do that when all hope is lost?”
I shrugged, as though I didn’t care about how close he was, although I really, really did. Grant was about a third of the way across the bridge, with the two guards a few steps behind him. None of them so much as glanced at the stone where I’d placed the ring. Good.
“You should have let me kill you in the slaughterhouse, Lila,” Grant continued his triumphant crowing. “Not made me chase you all the way out here. Because now—now I’m going to make it hurt.”
I gestured at the blood dripping out of my wounds. “And you think this doesn’t?”
He grinned. “Trust me. By the time I’m done with you, those will feel like paper cuts.”
I locked eyes with him and my soulsight kicked in, letting me see and feel exactly how much he meant his twisted words—and how very cruel he was. I shuddered. I’d rather get eaten by a monster than let Grant get his hands on me again. The monster would be a kinder, quicker death. Besides, monsters had to eat, too. I’d probably taste like bacon to them.
“If this doesn’t work,” I whispered, “you need to drop me and run. Get as far away from here as you can.”
Devon shook his head, and his mouth set into a hard line. “I’m not leaving you.”
I sighed at his stubbornness. “All right then. I hope this works.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Grant kept coming, with the two guards marching along behind him, all of them eager to cut us into tiny, bloody pieces. Devon tightened his arms around me, and we both lifted our chins and waited.
Grant moved closer to the middle of the bridge. So did the guards. All he had to do was take a few more steps forward, and then hopefully, my plan would be put into action—
Grant stopped just short of the halfway mark of the bridge.
His head snapped left and right, as he peered into the shadows that cloaked everything. “What are you up to, Lila? What’s going on?”
Devon sighed, but he cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to mine. “Run!” he yelled in the loudest voice he could muster.
For a moment, nothing happened, and I wondered if his voice had been strong enough for his magic to work. Then, it was as if a pair of hands reached inside my body and wrapped around my arms and legs. I felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled this way and that. Despite my many aches and pains, I had this sudden urge to do exactly what Devon said. To run and run and run until I either dropped dead of exhaustion or blood loss. The shape I was in, it was going to be the blood loss.
So I grabbed Devon’s hand, and we started running.
He kept up with me the best he could, but he still couldn’t go very fast, given his own injuries. He hissed with pain, but he didn’t ask me to slow down. He knew I couldn’t, not with his magic compelling me to run, run, run. So I tightened my grip on his hand and dragged him along with me. It was run, or die.
So we ran . . . and ran . . . and ran . . .
And slowly, much too slowly, the bridge loomed in front of us.
“You’re dead, Lila! Do you hear me? You’re both dead!”
Grant continued to shout behind us, but I didn’t dare turn around to see how close he was. All we had to do was make it across the bridge, and it wouldn’t matter. That was my plan, anyway—and the only hope Devon and I had left.
But a funny thing happened. We’d just started up the bridge when I realized that I didn’t feel the need to run anymore. That I wasn’t being compelled by his Talent. Instead, my own transference power had kicked in, and the cold rush of magic flowing through my veins was what was giving me the strength to run.
Devon and I hurried up the gentle curve of the bridge, but I tightened my grip on his hand and veered toward the stone set into the right side.
“What are you doing?” Devon croaked. “Are you crazy? They’re right behind us!”
I risked a quick glance over my shoulder. Grant and the other two men had closed the gap to a block. In a few more seconds, they’d start up the bridge and catch us.
I was counting on it.
I opened my fist and slapped my mom’s ring down on the stone in the center of the bridge, the stone marked with the three Xs. Somehow, the sapphire gleamed, despite my blood smeared all over the ring.
I tightened my grip on Devon’s hand, pulled him away from the edge, and hurried down the far side of the bridge.
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that I heard a familiar, distinctive clink, as what I had offered up was accepted.
We stepped off the far side of the bridge when the last of the magic burned out of my body. I took a step forward and ended up falling to one knee before Devon could catch me. He hauled me back upright and put his arm around my waist again, but I couldn’t go any farther.
“Stop,” I whispered.
Devon tried to drag me forward, but my bare, bruised, bloody feet barely shuffled along the cobblestones. “We have to get out of here!”
“We’re safe,” I whispered again. “I know we are. So trust me. Please?”
Doubt flared in his eyes, but he nodded and stopped trying to drag me away. Instead, he turned so that we were both facing our enemies.
By this point, Grant and his men were on the bridge.
Grant realized we weren’t going to keep running, and he started laughing. “Making one final stand, eh? Don’t you know that you only do that when all hope is lost?”
I shrugged, as though I didn’t care about how close he was, although I really, really did. Grant was about a third of the way across the bridge, with the two guards a few steps behind him. None of them so much as glanced at the stone where I’d placed the ring. Good.
“You should have let me kill you in the slaughterhouse, Lila,” Grant continued his triumphant crowing. “Not made me chase you all the way out here. Because now—now I’m going to make it hurt.”
I gestured at the blood dripping out of my wounds. “And you think this doesn’t?”
He grinned. “Trust me. By the time I’m done with you, those will feel like paper cuts.”
I locked eyes with him and my soulsight kicked in, letting me see and feel exactly how much he meant his twisted words—and how very cruel he was. I shuddered. I’d rather get eaten by a monster than let Grant get his hands on me again. The monster would be a kinder, quicker death. Besides, monsters had to eat, too. I’d probably taste like bacon to them.
“If this doesn’t work,” I whispered, “you need to drop me and run. Get as far away from here as you can.”
Devon shook his head, and his mouth set into a hard line. “I’m not leaving you.”
I sighed at his stubbornness. “All right then. I hope this works.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Grant kept coming, with the two guards marching along behind him, all of them eager to cut us into tiny, bloody pieces. Devon tightened his arms around me, and we both lifted our chins and waited.
Grant moved closer to the middle of the bridge. So did the guards. All he had to do was take a few more steps forward, and then hopefully, my plan would be put into action—
Grant stopped just short of the halfway mark of the bridge.
His head snapped left and right, as he peered into the shadows that cloaked everything. “What are you up to, Lila? What’s going on?”
