Annie's Song(30)

“Zach—” She tried to push herself up, and let out a harsh gasp when her shoulder convulsed.

“Stop, Claire. You need to rest.”

“We have to find him, stop her,” she took in a shallow breath. “Stop her from releasing it.”

“The woman who has him—”

“Diana.” Claire clutched his hand, her breathing ragged. “She’s harmless, but what she’s after—I couldn’t touch it, Marcus, but I could feel its presence. And it was locked away for a reason. I recognized it, just before she stabbed me.” The fear that leapt into her eyes stilled him. “It is a fire elemental.”



*



Zach and Diana hit the ground—and her elbow dug into the shallow knife wound in his side.

Fighting for breath, he rolled off her, pain clawing at him, and crawled toward the doorway. The knife struck dirt, an inch from his outstretched hand.

“You ungrateful child.” Diana’s breath wheezed out of her, but she used that same unnatural strength to jerk him up to his knees. He stilled as the knife followed, the tip biting into the base of his throat. “If I did not need you—” She took in a long, shaky breath, her hand tightening on the hilt. Zach didn’t even dare to breathe. “I will stand first, then you. Slowly, hands in sight, or this blade will happily send you to Death’s door.”

She struggled to stand, and he paid for it. The blade nicked his skin, more than once by the time she got to her feet. Pain burned across his chest, making it hard to breathe. He got to his feet as slowly as he could, hands raised. The knife followed him, nicking him a couple more times before she finally pulled it away, tucking the blade in a wide belt around her hips.

“Now,” Diana said, pushing him. “Move to the pedestal.”

Zach obeyed, staying as far away from the pedestal as he could and still be in arm’s reach of it. That seemed to satisfy her.

Diana kept glancing at him while she spread some sort of oils around the base, throwing crushed herbs on top of it. Part of him recognized the scents, the meaning, what they were intended to do.

Somehow, he knew there was a binding spell on the box. A strong binding, meant to last. Every time he got too close, the edge of the spell brushed over his skin, snagged at memories he didn’t know he had. Memories of the life he didn’t remember. And they left him angry, restless, like a stranger in his own body.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed them to one side, to be dealt with later. Right now, he had to survive this. And he wasn’t sure that was a possibility.

“Now, hand me the wand, boy. That one, in my bag, yes.” He pulled the carved length of willow out of the front pocket—and almost dropped it as a vivid image flashed in his mind. An image of him. But not him. God, what was happening? “Clumsy child. I never did see the advantage of children.”

She snatched the wand up and stood in front of the pedestal, the key he found for her in one hand. Carefully, holding her breath, she slid it into the lock, and clicked it over.

Zach flinched, waiting for the box to burst open. Diana looked disappointed when it did nothing.

“I thought that would . . . never mind, I have a spell to free it. Hold on to something, boy. This is one powerful spell.” She stepped back, arms spread, the cloak floating around her.



“By air and earth, by water and fire,

So be you unbound, as I desire.

Your power is found, your power I unbind.

By moon and sun, my will be done.”



Zach backed away with every word she spoke, until the crumbling stone wall trapped him. His heart pounded so hard he felt it in his throat. He tried to swallow, but all the spit in his mouth dried up.

He knew that spell—no, not that spell. A binding that held him like invisible rope, keeping him from escaping—he couldn’t remember what. But he did remember it was a fate desperate enough to do harm.

Diana moved around the pedestal, her voice louder and higher with every word.



“Sky and sea keep harm from me.

Cord be unwound, power be unbound,

Light revealed, now be unsealed—”



That light appeared, wrapped around the box. The metal vibrated—so violently Zach expected it to explode. Air swirled around the box, lifting it, catching the light in a whirlwind that spun it so fast the light looked almost liquid.

Zach slid along the wall, away from what he knew was about to happen. The light moved faster and faster, wind screaming around the box. Then everything went quiet, like they stood in the eye of a storm, the box hovering in the air.

With an ear-shattering blast the box split open. The light broke apart, brilliant shards flying out of the mini whirlwind.

Zach covered his head, bits of heat slapping his arms. Feeling the power of the binding fade, he swallowed, lifted his head. And waited for Hell to pour out.