by Kevin Sands
“Sure you will. You just don’t know it yet.”
The Lady in Red inched closer.
Mr. Solomon thrust his hand toward her. “Hold,” he said.
He regarded me, thinking.
“You cannot possibly believe I’d give it to you,” he said finally. “And you cannot imagine you can take it. I wonder . . . You said the Eye spoke to you. What horrors did it whisper in your mind? Did it turn you mad? Is that what happened to poor Seamus?”
“I’m being perfectly sensible,” I said. “You’re the one who cheated.”
“Now, now, Callan. You kept things from me as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t tell me everything about the Eye. I discovered why it attached itself to your forehead. You looked through it.”
I allowed surprise to creep into my expression. Surprise—and worry.
“The Eye has many properties,” Mr. Solomon said. “I should have realized one of them was the ability to see magic.”
I took a nervous step backward.
“Yes,” he continued. “I learned about that. But you were foolish. You brought the Eye too close, and it took possession of you. Did you know you could simply hold it at a distance and still see through it just the same?”
I took another step away. Come on, I thought. You know I can’t have come to you helpless. Look through it and see what I’m hiding.
“You may think you have a secret, Callan,” Mr. Solomon said. “But there are no secrets through the Eye.”
He pushed his hand out, far from his body, so the Eye wouldn’t grab him like it had me. Then he loosened his grip, held the stone in his fingers, prepared to scan the room.
And everything came crashing down.
CHAPTER 59
The throwing knife flew from above.
It tumbled through the air, down toward the dais, slicing toward the back of Mr. Solomon. But it wasn’t aimed at the man himself. It was aimed at the Eye.
The throw was perfect. The blade struck the gemstone dead center, knocking it from the Weaver’s hand. The Eye bounced off the dais, spinning as it tumbled into the pews.
Mr. Solomon whirled, searching for the source of the attack. He looked up—and saw Meriel, dangling upside down from the parapet, Foxtail holding her ankles.
Quick as darts, Meriel aimed a second and third knife directly at Mr. Solomon’s face. He flinched instinctively as the points struck him. But they just bounced off his skin, leaving him unharmed.
I’d seen through the Eye that his body was covered with wards. I’d guessed at least one of them was designed to protect him from harm. Which is why I’d told Meriel to knock the stone from his hand before she did anything else. The Eye was the only thing that mattered.
It clattered between the pews, ricocheting off the kneeling stations. I sprinted toward it. The Lady in Red ran in the opposite direction, over the spiderweb cracks of light in the stone, to the end of the dais. She leapt onto the wall, crawling up like an insect toward the girls. Mr. Solomon screamed at her.
“Forget the children! Get the Eye!”
The Lady dropped from the wall, her dress fluttering out like . . . well, like flames. She landed as easily as a cat, then looked around—and spied me.
I’d just reached the Eye. I snatched it up, wondering if my touching it would release Mr. Solomon’s bonds and make it speak. It remained silent.
Mr. Solomon didn’t. He roared as Meriel flung knife after knife at him. Protected, he didn’t even flinch anymore, just let the blades bounce off. He lifted his dragon staff and punched it out toward them.
The air rippled. I saw the wall beyond waver and flow as an invisible bolt of force shot upward. I held my breath—surely it would kill them—but Mr. Solomon wasn’t trying to kill them.
Instead, the wave struck just below them, at the edge of the temple wall. The rock blew away with a bang, the wall, the parapet, and the nearby turret crumbling with it. The girls tumbled down, disappearing in a cloud of rock dust.
I had no time to see if they were all right. The Lady in Red was sprinting toward me, that awful grin on her face. I ran toward the exit.
The Lady seemed to understand what I was doing. Instead of chasing me directly, she ran in parallel along the wall of the temple, to cut me off. I needed to time everything just right.
I thundered toward the exit. She darted toward me, so close I could feel her heat. Then, at the last minute, I turned—and threw the Eye away.
That caught her by surprise. Her grin vanished, and she skidded to a stop. We both watched the Eye arc toward the side of the temple—and into Lachlan’s open hand.
He’d sprung from lying down between the pews, hidden from view. Now he stood there, holding the Eye, as Mr. Solomon and the Lady in Red stared at him.
“Piggy-piggy-try-and-catch-me!” Lachlan called. And he winked.
Then he bolted. The Lady chased him. Mr. Solomon punched his staff in Lachlan’s direction; near the boy, not at him. He still couldn’t risk killing us—or even worse, hitting the Eye.
A hole the size of an omnibus blew through the rock wall. Stones tumbled down. Lachlan tripped, sprawling hard among the rubble.
“That’s cheating!” he shouted.
The Lady in Red closed in. Lachlan rolled away and, still on his backside, flung the Eye into the air. It arced overhead, all the way across the temple.
And Gareth, stepping from the shadows, was there to catch it.
Mr. Solomon snarled. Three times he punched his staff in Gareth’s direction, crumbling the wall and floor. Gareth ran clumsily through the pews toward the center of the temple. Mr. Solomon pulled his staff back to thrust it out again. Terrified, Gareth threw the Eye back to me.
The Lady in Red turned mid-stride. I was trapped between her and the wall, and this game of keep-away couldn’t go on forever. Desperately, I heaved the Eye into the air.
Mr. Solomon watched as it tumbled. Gareth, closest to the gemstone, hurried in to catch it.
“I got it!” Lachlan hollered, tracking the flying Eye. He barreled through the pews toward Gareth. “I got it!”
Neither of them appeared to see the other. They were too focused on the incoming stone.
“Look out!” I said.
But it was too late. Gareth caught the Eye, clutching it to his chest.
And then Lachlan crashed right into him.
Both boys went sprawling. Gareth hit the ground hard, and the Eye tumbled from his grasp. The gemstone skittered across the floor, wobbled into a roll, and bounced off the steps of the dais.
“No!” I shouted. “Lachlan—Gareth—get it!”
Lachlan scrambled toward the dais on hands and knees. He reached for the stone—
And Mr. Solomon stamped on his fingers.
Lachlan howled. Mr. Solomon ground his heel, all his weight on the boy’s hand. Then he reached down, plucked the Eye from the ground, and laughed.
CHAPTER 60
His laughter filled the temple. It echoed through the cavern, mocking.
Mr. Solomon stepped back onto the dais, releasing Lachlan’s arm. The boy curled up and stuck his fingers in his mouth, nursing them. Gareth sat on the floor, nose bleeding, and buried his head in his hands.
“What have I d-done?” he said. “I’ve r-ruined everything.”
The Lady in Red circled Mr. Solomon, scanning for any more threats. She hovered warningly as Meriel and Foxtail crawled from the rubble behind the altar. The girls were bruised and battered, skin gray with stone dust, clumping in ugly brown streams where their cuts had bled.
Foxtail was limping, badly. Meriel stared daggers at the pair on the dais but made no move toward them. There wasn’t any point.
Mr. Solomon finally stopped laughing. “My little thieves. You were so close. So close. I put such a good team together
, didn’t I?”
I spat. “We took the Eye from you. We had it.”
“But you couldn’t keep it, Callan. And that is all that matters.”
He returned to his spot on the altar. In the chaos, I’d missed it, but now I noticed: the cracks of light had spread even farther along the ground. Bright white, they shone through half the dais.
The earth rumbled, a slow, rocking quake. A low, alien humming filled the room.
Mr. Solomon gripped the Eye tightly, keeping the Lady in Red between him and Meriel. He’d give her no more opportunities for knives.
He jerked his head, ordering the girls to join us. “Over there.”
Neither of them budged. The Lady in Red stopped circling and inched closer.
“I know you won’t kill us,” I said.
Mr. Solomon looked at me thoughtfully. “True,” he said. “But I don’t need to kill you to hurt you.” Ever so slightly, he raised his staff. “I could just break every one of your bones.
“Well?” he said to the girls, keeping his eyes on me. “What will it be?”
Foxtail shrugged and limped around the dais to join us. Furious, Meriel lingered, but there was nothing she could do. She cursed him and spat at his feet, then joined us just the same.
The rock beneath Mr. Solomon cracked and shifted. He stepped back, unalarmed, as white light sparked upward in snapping bursts. The humming in the cavern grew louder.
“Your purpose has ended,” Mr. Solomon said. “Despite your attempt to steal the Eye, you rendered me a service, and I remain grateful. You may stay and watch me ascend, or I will let you go in peace. I do not care which you choose. But if you interfere with me again, you shall be punished.”
“Don’t do this,” I said. “Don’t use the Eye.”
“Using it is the whole point, Callan. Do you not see the power that bleeds beneath us? Can you not feel the lifeblood of magic in the air? The Eye offers much more than true vision. It can channel this magic inside me. No more props, no more limits. My power will be greater than anything in history.”
“Fine. Do as you please. Just don’t do it now. Not during the syzygy. You’ll break the planet.”
He looked startled. The mention of the syzygy had surprised him. “Who told you that?”
For a moment, I had the craziest notion of actually saying Shuna. But then he’d definitely think I was mad. “I’ve read the old stories,” I said.
“What old stories? What are you talking about?”
I couldn’t tell him it had come from Fox and Bear. “What you’re planning has been tried before. It almost destroyed the world. Please, we won’t fight you. We won’t steal the Eye back. We’ll go away and never bother you again. Just don’t do this tonight.”
Still frowning, Mr. Solomon regarded me. “It has to be tonight. The syzygy is what brings the magic to the surface. It must happen tonight or not at all.”
“Then don’t do it. What good is power if everyone’s dead?”
He studied me for a long, long time.
Then he shook his head. “I don’t believe you.”
I stepped forward, angry. The Lady in Red halted my approach.
“The Eye is conning you,” I said, desperate. “It’s a gaff, don’t you see? And we, all of us, we’re the marks. All it wants is destruction. You’ll doom everyone.”
“If you’re right,” he said, “and my transformation really does crack the world, it will also give me the power to fix it.”
I cursed. “You arrogant fool.”
He smiled without humor. “It’s not arrogance, Callan, if you win.”
Mr. Solomon turned his back to me, conversation over. He resumed chanting, the Lady in Red keeping us at bay.
Once more, he slammed his staff against the ground. The stone below buckled, and a burst of light blew upward, forming a bright, needle-thin column. It pierced the cavern high above, sending a rain of dust down that sparkled and smoked in the glow.
The earth rumbled louder now and shook. At Mr. Solomon’s feet, the stones cracked, then blew away in fragments. Light erupted in front of him, no longer a thin beam, but a wide, sparking column that sliced through the mountain like it wasn’t there.
“Watch, children,” Mr. Solomon said. “Watch the birth of a god.”
And he plunged the Eye into the light.
CHAPTER 61
Mr. Solomon grinned.
“The magic!” he shouted. I could barely hear him over the roar. “Can you feel it! It . . .” His voice faltered. “It . . . No!”
He tried to pull away, but his hand remained, caught in the light like the pillar was stone. He stared at me in wide-eyed horror as sparks worked their way up his arm. The Lady in Red moved toward him, but her motions were jerky, awkward. Whatever was happening to Mr. Solomon was affecting her, too.
He grimaced, agony etched in his face. “It can’t be . . . How . . . What have you done?”
“The Eye you’re holding is a fake,” I said.
He stared at me as I stepped closer. “See, we knew we had to take the Eye away. But if we stole it, you’d come after us, and never stop. So I knew that, somehow, we had to trick you with it instead.
“And then I remembered what happened in your home. You couldn’t tell if the Eye was real. You had to have your elemental check it out for you. That’s what gave me the idea.
“The Eye looks like an ordinary amber lens. So what if we took a piece of amber and shaped it exactly the same? We went to a fence that Lachlan knows and had him fashion a perfect copy. Then we played our gaff. The girls got the Eye away from you. The boys played keep-away. And when I threw the Eye to Gareth? He switched it, behind his body, for the fake.
“That’s what he fumbled when Lachlan hit him. He let it go deliberately, so it tumbled right toward you, close enough that you would reach it first. My only worry was that you’d suspect a gaff and ask the Lady in Red to check it before you used it. But I was counting on something.
“People are predictable, see? And I knew you. You were so smug, so arrogant. You’d never imagine a bunch of kids could beat you. And that, Mr. Solomon, is how we won.”
“You . . . Impossible . . . !” he croaked.
I looked back at the others. “Like you said: you picked a great team.”
The light began to swallow him. Mr. Solomon was awash with it. Now, even without the Eye, I could see the Weaver runes in his skin. They swirled, as if fighting the magic that consumed him, then evaporated, pulled upward with the stream.
The Lady in Red stood frozen, reaching for him, unable to move.
And then he was gone.
He just . . . disintegrated. As he vanished, a shock wave burst from the pillar, making the earth, the air, the very stone ripple. It blew us backward, sending us skidding along the floor.
As for the Lady in Red, the wave shredded the last facade of her humanity. Her dress, her hair, her skin peeled away with the blast, leaving a writhing, vaguely human-shaped flame. The parasol melted into a sword of dripping fire.
And finally, for the first time since I’d met her, she made a sound. A terrible, wailing keen came from somewhere inside her. She writhed, lashing about aimlessly.
Then she turned and looked upon us all.
Meriel flung a knife at her. It passed through her chest, the steel melting into white-hot globs. It splashed against the altar and trickled down.
“Run!”
We scattered. The elemental lashed out madly, chasing us this way and that. Its form shifted constantly, less human all the time. It seemed to be struggling to keep its shape.
“I think it’s dying!” I shouted.
“Not fast enough,” Meriel said, dodging a fiery ball flung her way.
“The w-wineskins!” Gareth called. “Use the wineskins!”
Each of us was carrying two, filled to t
he seams with water. We ripped the skins from our belts and cast them toward her. Gareth and I missed. Lachlan hit her once, as did Foxtail. Meriel nailed her with both right in the chest.
The wineskins crisped instantly in her flames. They burst, the water inside splashing out, seething into rising bursts of steam.
The elemental shrieked. Her shape fluttered. We’d hurt her.
But she wasn’t finished yet. “We need more!” Gareth shouted.
“I don’t know if you noticed, mate,” Lachlan called back. “But we’re inside a volcano. Water’s right hard to come by.”
“Our skins!” I said, and pointed.
The four Gareth and I had thrown had bounced among the pews. One had popped open, burbling out its precious water. The others were still intact.
Foxtail was the closest. Unfortunately, so was the elemental. As Foxtail hobbled forward, the flame-thing came after her.
Foxtail stooped to grab one of the wineskins. She ducked under the swooping flame-sword and tossed the flask underhanded back at her attacker.
But her injured leg gave out. Off balance, she missed, and the skin burst. Foxtail stumbled, sprawling on the rock.
The Lady in Red—what remained of her—came toward the girl. She raised the sword—
And then Lachlan was there. “Get away from her!” he shouted as he picked up a wineskin and hurled it.
It struck the elemental in the back, the water inside boiling into steam. The thing shrieked, a howl of rage and agony.
It faced him, keening.
“Yikes,” Lachlan said, and he turned to run.
He wasn’t fast enough. The elemental lunged, and Lachlan’s eyes went wide. He looked down in horror—we all did—as the fiery blade ran him through his gut.
He crumpled. We watched, paralyzed, as the thing readied to carve him to pieces.
But the water had done its job. Flames sputtered across the elemental’s surface. Its flame-sword wavered, flickered, then collapsed in on itself, drawing into the elemental’s body. It throbbed and pulsed.