Читать книгу Wandfasted - Laurie Forest - Страница 12

Chapter 4: The White Wand

Flames shoot from the tip of the wand as soon as I grasp it.

A violent wave of magic drives the air from my lungs as fire courses out of the wand, strafing Kelt and Urisk soldiers and setting several trees alight with a crackling explosion. I round on the ax-paladin with a fierce cry, and the fire whips out toward him. He screams with pain and falls back.

Fury courses through me as I send fire out in wide, repeating arcs, driving the soldiers farther away from the barn as an arrow whirs past, barely missing me. I hold tight to my woven knot of spells, readying it as soldiers all around aim their weapons. The Urisk pull stones to their palms and the Icaral demon snarls and gathers a growing ball of flame above his hand. The Kelt commander shouts an order, and a line of archers forms, drawing their bows.

Men’s voices call out, and the arrows are released in a unified whoosh. The Icaral’s fireball is hurled straight at me, spears are launched at my head and a kaleidoscope of searing flame bursts from affinity stones.

I slap one hand over the other and grasp at the wand, fall to my knees and send my linked power up into a great dome of a shield. Weapons and flames and stone magic slam up against it with shuddering force and are knocked back.

I’m shocked by the immensity of my power, magnified by this wand. My affinity power courses out in a translucent, golden river, rising up—over me, over the livestock pen and over the barn.

Great stabs of pain smash into my shoulders and through my arms from the impact of the soldiers’ relentless assault, the blows of countless weapons reverberating against my shield, nearly knocking the wand clear out of my vibrating fists.

Jules has pulled himself up to a sitting position and is propped up against the barn wall, gaping at me, the eye that’s not swollen shut gone wide.

“Pry the door open!” I yell to Rosebeth and the young women in the pen, everyone lit by golden light and flashes of color as the Urisk and the Icaral demon hurl geomagic and fire at the shield.

The young women race for the barn’s locked door.

The strafeling clenches the stones looped around his palms and sends shockwave after shockwave of sapphire fire exploding against my shield.

My arms and shoulders scream with pain, my body jerking with each blow. But I hold on, keeping the shield intact.

“Stand down!” the Keltic commander booms out.

The assault abruptly ceases.

I’m panting, drenched in sweat as I struggle to hold the dome of energy together.

The Keltic commander moves off to my right and converses in low tones with several underlings, his eyes trained on me with careful calculation.

They’re waiting. Waiting for my strength to give out.

“Hurry!” I call over my shoulder to the young women, desperation on the edge of panic coursing through me.

But the barn door is refusing to give way.

The hateful Upper River girl lets out an angry snarl and kicks the door in frustration. “Check the back,” she yells to the other young women. “Search for rotted wood.” She calls to the Gardnerians inside for help breaking open a passage, and they shout back to her, their voices muffled by the barn’s walls. A cacophony of hammering and pounding against the barn ensues.

Smoke rises thick in the air, my fire still crackling in the surrounding woods. Soldiers watch me with dark intent and even darker smiles.

My heart thuds with a painful slowness, my pulse loud in my ears, the power a steady stream through me, flowing up from the ground. I concentrate hard and weave the shield even tighter, sending the power upward, the tips of my fingers growing numb, my arms trembling.

A gentle hand flows down over my arm and grasps my wrist to steady me. Jules pushes himself tight against my back, propping me up.

“What are you planning?” His voice is calm, the words muffled by the swelling of his mouth.

His presence helps to soothe the fear that’s making a slow crawl through my belly. “I can move the shield,” I tell him, my throat tight. “We get everyone out, and we leave.”

“How long can you maintain it?” His voice is purposefully measured.

“I... I don’t know,” I admit, terror breaking through.

He gives my wrist an encouraging squeeze, his cheek pressed to mine. “I love you, Tessla.” He says it with ardent certainty.

We’re going to die, I realize.

“I love you, too,” I tell him, knowing we don’t mean this in the same way, but what does that matter now? We might all be dead soon, and Jules is nearly as dear to me as Wren.

Exhaling sharply, I murmur a spell and push a warm wave of magic out to bolster the shield, my teeth and the muscles of my neck clenched tight.

“Fight them,” he tells me, his breath warm on my face. “Fight them to the end.”

Rosebeth rushes over to my side. “We can’t get the door open,” she relays with breathless urgency. “But they’ve managed to pull a board off the back of the barn. They’re all back there, prying at it.”

“Hurry,” I tell her grimly, my feet tingling, my toes gone numb, the numbness in the tips of my fingers starting to spread.

“Are you tiring, little witch?” the Icaral demon calls to me with a sneer, his glowing eyes hot, an evil smile curling on his mouth. His voice is like a snake’s hiss as he stalks around my shield. He unfurls his black wings and starts to summon another ball of flame, the fire-orb churning and growing over his palm.

The huge ax-paladin is pacing like a giant wildcat in front of me, scarlet burns streaked across his face, charred black lines across his uniform. “You will tire eventually, Roach,” he snarls, “and then we will break through your shield and take you apart, piece by piece.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jules urges, tightening his grip on my wrist. “Listen to me. You can hold the shield. I know you can.”

Somewhere behind me, my brother and grandfather are waiting to escape from the barn.

Wren. I can’t let them have Wren.

“Your strength will run out at some point, witch,” the Icaral crows darkly, his fireball grown large, his wings fanning out. He rears back and throws the fireball straight at me, punching the shield’s side with a shower of sparks. The shield gives way, pushing in and snapping back out. Tearing.

A hole!

The hole whips around the shield-dome like a leaf caught on a turbulent river, small, but there.

I can’t feel my lower legs.

Soldiers call out and point at the hole in the shield as it swirls around the changeable vortex of the dome’s surface. They send up a triumphant cheer.

The ax-paladin strides toward me, his muscles rippling, his burned face as close as he can get it without touching the scorching shield, teeth bared. “I will pull your people out one by one and flay them in front of you.”

The other soldiers are scrambling about, yelling to each other. I realize they’re inexplicably moving back, giving the shield a wide berth. The ax-paladin grins at something over my head and lumbers backward, as well.

“Why are they retreating?” I croak out to Jules, desperation clawing at me.

I feel his head tilt up, his hand going tight over mine.

An unearthly shriek tears through the sky above, and I look up to see a massive dragon flying in impossibly fast.

Hurtling straight for my shield.