by Lish McBride
“Bad, Sam, this is bad.” Brid chewed on her lip. “Whatever you did scared him. Douglas is unbalanced on a good day.” She shook her head. “He smelled like fear, and I don’t think he likes to be afraid.”
“That does sound bad.” I tugged again on my arm restraints. Solid. “What do you think the chances are that this contraption is a temporary punishment?”
“Zero,” she said. “It reeks of blood and terror. This whole damn room stinks of it, and I’m tired of being in here.”
“I know.” I stopped pulling and relaxed. No sense wasting what little energy I had.
“What the hell happened to you?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” What the hell had happened to me? “It was like I went from zero to sixty in a second.” I had to stop making car analogies. If I survived this, I’d tack it onto my list of resolutions.
“We need to get out of here.” Brid grabbed onto the bars. “You have to try and call Ashley.”
“I don’t have a circle. Besides, I don’t know if I can again. I think last time might have been a fluke.”
“Douglas said the circle was for protection. Ashley isn’t malevolent as far as I can tell. Just picture her in your mind and call her by name.”
I was skeptical, but I closed my eyes and gave it a shot anyway. We could only gain from trying. I conjured her up in my mind, saddle shoes and all. I took my power and aimed it at that image. When I felt it was strong enough, I whispered her name.
She popped into the room almost immediately. “Great Caesar’s ghost!” Ashley looked quickly about the room before she ran over to me. Despite her experience, I think my ability to get into new and life-threatening situations shocked her. Personally, I was hoping it was a phase that I would grow out of. At least, I hoped I had a chance to grow out of it.
She reached for my wrist, only to jerk her hand back the second she touched the leather. She shook her hand like she’d been burned. “You know, I like this guy less every second.”
“You can’t get me out of here, can you?” All hope seeped out of me.
She shook her head mournfully. “I’m sorry, Sam. Those damn things are practically soaked in power de Douglas, if you get my drift. If he does much more necromancy in here, I won’t be able to walk around.”
“It’s okay, Ashley,” I said, even though we all knew the situation was far from good.
“I don’t understand,” Brid said. “I thought he wanted to train Sam up? It just doesn’t make sense that the first time Sam’s successful, he does this.”
Ashley sighed. “I’m afraid, from what Ed was telling me, it does make sense.” She began to examine the table I was on. “I think he was okay with having you around as long as you weren’t a threat.” She climbed under the table. “But once you raised Ed—” There was a muffled thump. “I don’t think you understand what you did with that.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Ed’s an upper-level entity, Sam. Most necromancers wouldn’t even try. But you did it without any training or effort.” She climbed out from under the table.
“But I was summoning you. We probably just got Ed as a bonus.”
Ashley dusted off her hands. “No, you didn’t. You should have just gotten a portal showing me. Geez, Sam, you shouldn’t have even gotten a portal. I should have just heard you calling.”
“So once I did that?”
Brid slumped in the cage. “You officially became too dangerous.”
Ashley patted my cheek. “Exactly. Look at it from his point of view.”
“I don’t ever want to do that.”
She half smiled. “I know. But in one day you went from not being able to close a circle to summoning Ed.”
“So, I finally succeed at something, and now I’m going to be killed for it.”
“Your mom must have snapped her binding,” Brid said.
“Great, even when she’s trying to help me, it almost kills me.”
Ashley stamped her foot. “Damn it, this is frustrating. Why won’t anyone let me do my freaking job?” She nibbled at a thumbnail. “There must be something,” she mumbled.
“Hey,” Brid said, “can you tell Sam how to open these bars? You know, now that he’s outside? If he can get me out, I can undo those straps.”
Ashley lit up and gave a little skip of joy. She placed her small hands on my temples. “Close your eyes.”
I obediently shut them. One of her hands moved away from my temple and there was a sudden burning on my side. I looked down toward the pain. Little girl had cut me.
“Hey, whose side are you on?” Why did everything involve my blood lately? I wasn’t a friggin’ pincushion.
“Sorry,” she said, though she didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. “This is one of those things we need blood for. Or at least, it will be faster with blood.” She reached up on her tiptoes and smeared my blood on the symbols etched into the bars on the cage. “This cage, these symbols—all done with necromancy. So to be undone, they need a necromancer. And that’s you, my friend. Now concentrate, Sam. I want you to picture the cage, the magic inside it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay, now what?”
“What we’re looking for is a weakness. A small flaw we can exploit. Few spells are perfect, and it will be a lot easier to deal with that than anything else.”
“I already know where the weak spot is.”
“You do?” She sounded surprised.
“I found a flaw earlier when I was studying the cage.” I could still picture it in my mind. “I just didn’t know what to do about it, or if it was even helpful.” I frowned. “At least, I think it was a flaw—”
“Don’t go doubting yourself now. It’s all we’ve got,” she said. “Now, what I want you to do is concentrate all your power on that spot. Shove everything you’ve got into it.”
“What will that do?”
“It should overload it. Like when too much electricity flips a breaker.”
I found the weak spot in the spell and did what Ashley said. It didn’t smash like I’d hoped. More like a slow chipping away. Sweat beaded on my forehead. We didn’t have time for chipping. I clenched my jaw, dug deep, and pushed all I had into that one spot.
The breaker tripped, and the glow of the spell on the cage vanished. “Done,” I said.
“Great,” Ashley said, “now we just need to pick the lo—”
I heard a dull snap.
“Never mind,” Ashley said.
Two seconds later, Brid’s face hovered over mine. She smiled, and it went all the way to her eyes. A quick kiss on my mouth, and then she started undoing the leather cuff that held my right hand. The clasp was rusty, but she got it undone fairly quickly. One arm freed, I motioned Brid toward my feet while I worked on the other arm.
The sound of the lock in the basement door being drawn made us both stop. Brid wouldn’t have time to free me completely. I mouthed the word hide at her and Ashley. Since I didn’t know who was coming downstairs, I didn’t want to say it out loud. I didn’t know what was fact or fiction yet about werewolves, but I didn’t want to risk Michael hearing us if the superhearing bit ended up being true. Added to my list of resolutions, right after never going to sleep again, I resolved to learn everything I could about everything.
Ashley disappeared in a blink. Brid crept under the stairs. She wouldn’t go back in that cage, not if she could help it. Which was smart. If she hid in there and ended up getting locked in again, then we were both up the stream sans paddle.
I slipped my right hand back into the restraint, doing my best to look tied up. The door banged open. I arched up and saw Michael coming down the steps, his arms full. I could see a big bowl and a few other things. He saw me and smiled.
“Good to see you awake,” he said, the shit-eating grin on his face getting bigger.
“And why is that?”
“I was afraid you might sleep through all the fun.” He set down his armload on the floor.
“You really do
n’t like me, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why?” I asked. “What did I ever do to you?”
Michael crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “Can’t a guy just hate someone on sight anymore?”
“I guess if you’re a jackass, sure.”
Michael didn’t rise to the bait. He just grunted. He hadn’t once backed down from an insult so far. Michael was the kind of guy they invented the phrase “hair-trigger temper” for. I was curious. And afraid.
“How come you’re so chipper?”
“Because,” he said, “I finally get to help kill you.” He seemed really pleased about the prospect too.
My pulse sped up, but I tried to keep the smile on my face. It’s one thing to know there’s a chance people might kill you, or that it’s probable that they will kill you. But when they confirm it, with a smile, it’s a whole other thing altogether.
Douglas came down the steps, his sleeves rolled up and ready. His face serene, he walked slowly toward me.
“I thought you said you’d only kill me if I didn’t learn.” Douglas took his knife down off the bookshelf and studied it.
“I finally did something you told me to do, and I get trussed up for my effort. What gives?”
“You are too vexing to live.”
I waited for him to go on. Nothing. He just checked the edge of his knife.
“That’s it? C’mon, in the movies you can’t get a Bond villain to shut up. You’re not even going to outline your evil plan for me? Maybe if you pick up your cat and pet it while sitting in an oversized chair, something will come to you.” Was that Bond or Austin Powers? Or Inspector Gadget? It was amazing how easy it was to get those things confused. I didn’t actually want to hear what he had planned, or why I vexed him. My only thought at this point was buying Brid some time. I couldn’t look over at her. I just stalled and hoped.
“I’m not a Bond villain, just as you are no Sean Connery.” Douglas put the knife back on the shelf and went for a piece of chalk. “But out of pity, I will, as they say, throw you a bone.” He selected a large chunk of chalk that would have been more at home on a sidewalk hopscotch diagram. “I don’t know how you hid from me. I don’t know how you veiled your gift once you were here. What you did actually managed to surprise me, and that hasn’t happened in quite some time.” He leaned down and began the circle. “Too many unknowns with you. And since your gift came out to play, I no longer need to train you to draw it out.”
“So you were planning on killing me the whole time?” Douglas blew away some of the loose chalk. “Yes.” He filled in a thin spot in the line. “Unless you proved useful. But most likely, yes.”
He had to draw a big circle to get the table and himself inside, so he stood up and moved to another chunk of the floor. Unfortunately that took him right in view of the cage.
The room exploded into motion. Douglas shouted at Michael, who leapt toward the bars. Brid dove out of hiding. She let out a warrior scream midleap and changed. I’m not sure what I expected. Some amount of twisting limbs, maybe some mucus. I guess when she told me that the process was fast, I didn’t really get what she meant. One minute, Brid was howling in midair, her arms extended, wearing my Batman shirt and my boxers, the next minute she was vapor. It was like Brid exploded into a million pieces, and when those pieces came back together, she was a white blur of fur and teeth. My shirt and boxers drifted to the floor.
Michael turned so fast I didn’t see him move, but it wasn’t fast enough. Brid caught his arm in her teeth. Her momentum too great to hold on, she continued forward, slicing his arm in the process. Brid hit the ground, sliding on her paws. In her new form, she was pure white, except for the inside of her ears, which were pink like the inner recesses of seashells. Even in her animal form, she was breathtaking. Watching her move was like stumbling onto a hidden glade in the forest and finding a startled deer. Perfection of form and movement in nature—you can’t help but be awed by it.
I caught a spot of crimson on her tail and the back of one of her ears. She’d only looked pure white at first. I’d never seen markings that color before. Her eyes were a blazing red. As she glared at Michael, the blaze grew until it looked like she had balls of flame for eyes.
A popping sound later and Brid was back, only naked now. “I’d fight you wolf to wolf, but the change would take you way too long. I might grow old waiting.” She went into a fighting stance, her face hard.
Michael flicked his arms out and opened his palms. “I can change what I need to.” His voice lowered into an eager growl. As I watched, his hands thickened, claws growing from the pads of his fingers.
“C’mon,” he said, “where’s your dainty claws?” His voice took on a taunting lilt. “Oh, right,” he said, “you can’t do a partial change, can you, half-breed?”
“I guess I’m just not as perfect as you,” she said, sweetly. She flicked her arms out in a similar motion. Instead of claws, each of her hands held a short sword. Each blade flared out from its pommel, a little over two feet in length. Brid eased back into her fighting stance and smiled. As she did, the blades burst into the same flames I’d seen in her eyes earlier. She lunged at Michael, who dodged her thrust. He rolled to the side and slashed out with his hand. When they pulled away from each other, Brid was bleeding from her rib cage. The wound looked shallow, and she ignored it. They started circling each other.
A small black-and-silver blur zoomed past my head, hovering next to Douglas. The blur slowed and landed on the top of the bookshelf, morphing into the shape of Douglas’s cat. It flicked its tail and settled.
“We have a problem.” The cat’s voice sounded grim. Despite everything, I was surprised when it spoke. I’d never seen a cat talk outside of a Disney movie. No wonder everyone had looked at me funny when I petted it. You don’t pet things that talk.
“Now what?” Douglas asked.
“Intruders,” the cat said.
Douglas cursed under his breath. “What kind?”
“Wolves, front and back of the house, and what appears to be a kid with a skateboard.” The cat’s tail snapped back and forth. “I recommend postponing the ritual and doing some damage control.”
“I can’t help you much without blood, and there will be plenty of that with the ritual. Two birds, one stone, James. The defenses will hold until then.”
Brid threw Michael into the wall to the side of us. He bounced back from it and hurled himself at her like nothing had happened.
“Take care of it,” Douglas said to the cat.
“But—”
Douglas made a slashing motion with his free hand. “Take care of it!”
The cat gave a final flick of its tail before jumping off the bookcase and morphing back into the black-and-silver blur. It shot up the stairs.
Douglas twirled the knife in his hand. “We’d better get started.”
26
Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting
A howl issued from the other side of the house. The hair on the back of Ramon’s neck stood up in reaction. The group around him tensed. “What does that mean?” he whispered.
“It means,” Sean said, dropping into a runner’s crouch, “get ready.”
Ramon clutched his board. He put one hand on the ground and leaned forward, matching Sean, who gave him a wink and a grin before turning his head back toward the house. Bran didn’t smile but held himself in a similar position.
A sharp yip echoed, and the group was off. Ramon ran after them, feet slipping in loose leaf cover and dirt. Though he had never tried out for track, he knew he was pretty fast. You don’t spend years skateboarding and not learn how to run from cops. But this group outstripped him easily. Two dozen or so wolves pulled to the front, their people following in their tracks. He wondered if they had the same number of people flanking the other side of the house. Sean and the rest seemed to trust the wolves, letting them run without orders or direction, the whole group moving in unison. The image made him thi
nk of a flock of birds flying in formation.
Ramon quickly fell to the back. As he watched them leap over bushes and fly across the grass, he wondered if they were cyborgs. Humans just couldn’t do that stuff. He made the sound effect from The Six Million Dollar Man under his breath as he kept on after them.
A gout of flame came out of nowhere and burned the grass in a swath next to him. Ramon twisted away from it but managed to stay his feet. When he looked up he saw a shiny black blur tearing about like a hummingbird. The blur banked and unleashed another line of fire at the approaching group. As it slowed, he could actually make out what the blob was—a dragon. Only about the size of a housecat, the dragon produced a stream of flame ten times its size. The group scattered but kept moving forward.
A shattering crunch of a noise split across the lawn as the statues cracked open. Very living cargo spilled out from under the left over pebbles and dust. The lions leapt onto a few of the wolves, rolling them away from the group. The fights continued to the sides, blood and dust flying.
The Greek statues were even more terrifying. Ramon watched as the minotaur lifted up a wolf and hurled it. Seconds later, three other wolves pulled it down. It stood back up and shook them off like they were puppies. Ramon wasn’t sure what the nymphs were doing, and he didn’t want to know. The gladiators from the bas-relief he’d seen earlier began to shimmy down the columns. So Douglas hadn’t just been eccentric with his décor. “Heads up!” Ramon shouted. A few of the men looked up and saw the gladiators. They howled and took off, dodging swords and slamming into shields. The effect was chaotic but, at the same time, handled with a practiced precision. Sean and his group were well trained, that was obvious.
Ramon saw one of the wolves get pulled into a hedgerow when it got too close. He heard it howl, but he couldn’t see what happened to it. One of the men ran over and pulled it out. The wolf was bloodied but still alive.