by R. L. King
He’d made it only a few steps before his shins smashed against something, nearly knocking him over. The dagger slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor as he bit back a cry of pain.
Damn it, he’d have to use the flashlight if he didn’t want to break his neck down here! At least he couldn’t miss the dagger, which showed up on magical sight. He snatched it back up, crouching to scan for the creature, then switched on the light.
He was standing in a wide, open space filled with orderly stacks of objects, many of them covered by heavy tarps. A stone wall, rough and stained, ran along the right side,. This part of the house had to be very old. Alastair wondered what kinds of ancient workings were down here—an old boiler, maybe, or an antique furnace? He wondered what workmen must think when they had to come down here to fix something.
“Kerrick?” he called. “Can you hear me? It’s Alastair!”
The faint, far-off voice came again—but this time it wasn’t as far off. “Sir?”
Relief so strong it almost staggered him surged through Alastair. “Kerrick!” he yelled. “Where are you? Can you come toward my voice?” Injuries and exhaustion momentarily forgotten in the rush of elation that Kerrick was still alive, he spurred himself to move faster, striding down the hall in the direction of the voice. “Can you see my torchlight?”
“Sir! I’m here!” Kerrick’s voice was stronger now, but shook with fear.
Alastair rounded a corner and plunged through a doorway into a large room, shining the light ahead of him. If the creature attacked now he’d be vulnerable, but Kerrick was so close—he had to find him. “Kerrick!”
The beam fell on a huddled form pressed into a corner. It raised its hands, flinching against the harsh light.
“Kerrick!” Alastair shouted, hurrying over as he identified the tall, dirt-smudged form. He almost ran directly to him, but stopped halfway there to scan him with magical sight. To his relief, the familiar blue aura, a little shaky but strong, flared around the figure.
“Oh, dear God, sir, I’m so happy to see you.” Kerrick’s voice came out on a rush of air. “What’s happened?” His gaze fell on Alastair. “Sir? Are you all right? You’re pale as a ghost—and you’re bleeding.”
“No time,” Alastair panted. “We need to get to safety.”
“Safety? Where is the danger?” He looked around. “The lights went out, and I came down here to check the fuses, but then I tripped over something like a fool and my torch broke. I’ve been blundering around trying to find the door for—” Worry creased his features. “What’s happened, sir? Why are you injured? And—aren’t those from the dining room?” he added, nodding toward the dagger and the tiny shield.
Alastair swallowed, letting himself rest for a moment. “It’s a long story. There’s something loose in the house, and it’s dangerous. It’s already killed Samuels—”
Kerrick gasped. “Dear God…”
“We’ve got to get out of here. And contact Mr. Desmond. Do you know where he is?”
Kerrick appeared not to have recovered from the shock of the news about Samuels. “How—?”
Alastair wanted to tell him the whole story, but they didn’t have time. “Selby. He summoned it—thought his brother was alive. It nearly killed him too. It wants Mr. Desmond.” He cast a quick glance around, but still spotted no sign of the jagged red aura. “Do you know where he is?”
“Yes, sir.” Kerrick visibly attempted to get himself under control. “He’s—he’s in London, attending a function.” He glanced at his watch. “He should be back at the London house by now.”
“Can you contact him there? Is there a phone down here somewhere?”
“The phones are out, sir. I tried to ring the power company to check on the outage before I came down here. They’re dead.”
Great. Should have expected it, though. “Okay. We need to get to safety, and then figure out a way to let him know he’ll be walking into an ambush when he comes home.”
“Safety, sir? Where are the others?”
“Downstairs in the workroom. They’re all safe.”
Kerrick stared at him. “And you…came down here to find me?” As Alastair turned to scan for the creature again, he gasped. “Your back, sir!”
“It’s all right. It hurts, but I’m all right. We have to go. And I’ve got to figure out a way to contact Mr. Desmond without using the phone.”
“Can’t we…just all leave, sir? Will this thing, whatever it is, follow us?”
“We’re stuck in here. It’s done something to the doors and windows. We can’t get out—and neither can it. The wards are holding it in.”
“No…” Kerrick breathed. “So we’re trapped in here with it.”
“Yeah…” he muttered. “Need to have a word with Selby about that later…” He offered the flashlight to Kerrick. “Can you hold this? Keep your back to the corner here and shine it around. Look for anything that looks like a moving shadow, and yell if you spot it, okay?”
“A…moving shadow?” Kerrick’s voice shook. “Yes, sir. What will you be doing?”
He held up the tiny shield. “I need to try to figure out what this is for. You don’t know, do you?”
Kerrick shook his head. “No, sir. Mr. Desmond hasn’t had that one very long, and he doesn’t discuss his magical objects with me.”
“All right. Just watch, and yell if you see anything moving that isn’t us.” Alastair crouched in front of Kerrick, shifting back to magical sight and focusing his concentration to use the magic-analysis spell Desmond had taught him. He hadn’t had much practice with it and he wasn’t very good with it yet, but anything he might be able to glean about the item would be helpful.
With its design, he suspected it had to be defensive in nature. Did it generate a shield? Augment one? Provide some other sort of protection? But against what? It hardly seemed large enough to act as a physical barrier for a full-sized person, so perhaps the effect was magical. He knew he didn’t have much time to waste on it, but if it was something he could use, he needed to know it.
“Sir—” Kerrick’s voice broke through his thoughts.
He went stiff. “Did you see it?”
“No, sir. But—shouldn’t we be going? You’ve been staring at that thing for five minutes.”
Had he? It hadn’t seemed that long. He needed to be careful about getting lost in the magic. “Just a few moments longer. Keep watching.”
It was easier to slip into the focus now that he’d had a look at the item. He fed a little power into it and examined the carefully ordered, bright blue lines that shimmered into being around its edges. A complicated design—he thought he was right that it had something to do with defense. Perhaps augmenting defense. Would it supplement a magical shield, if he could figure out how to activate it?
“Sir, look out!” Kerrick grabbed him roughly and threw him aside, diving after him. He got a quick impression of something black flitting past and then the creature was solid again, its claws tearing into the corner where they’d both been standing only an instant before.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Alastair fell hard and nearly lost both the shield and the dagger. He rolled up quickly and spun just as the creature made a second pass. It seemed bigger now—taller than Kerrick, its long limbs and shifting edges making it difficult to get a clear look at it. As it dived at him, claws out, a fetid stench like burning, rotten meat filled the air.
Alastair barely got his personal shield up in time to block it, but it drove him back into the wall. He hit hard, his back flaring with pain, and couldn’t suppress a cry.
“Over here, whatever you are!” Kerrick yelled.
Alastair looked past him and his whole body went cold with shock. “Kerrick, no!”
Kerrick had picked up a length of pipe from somewhere, an
d now brandished the flashlight in one hand and the pipe in the other, flailing both in a mad attempt to divert the creature’s attention from Alastair. “Over here!”
The thing apparently didn’t like the light. It ducked and weaved, trying to stay out of the beam, then made a sudden lunge toward Kerrick.
“No!” Alastair yelled again, dropping his shield and dashing forward with the dagger in front of him.
He expected Kerrick to dive out of the way again, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted sideways, wound up with the pipe, and swung for the fences.
If the blow had connected, it probably would have taken the creature’s head off. But at the last second, the thing seemed to flow around the pipe, momentarily turning back to shadow and then reappearing behind Kerrick, claws slashing.
“Kerrick!” Alastair screamed, and did the only thing he could think of: he grabbed the man in a telekinetic grip and yanked him forward.
The creature’s wicked claws sliced through the space where Kerrick had just been, missing him by bare inches as he crashed into Alastair, knocking him over and landing hard on top of him.
Pain flared again as Kerrick’s weight knocked the wind out of Alastair. The dagger went flying in one direction, and the flashlight went in the other, rolling across the room and landing against the wall, its beam shining uselessly in the wrong direction.
The creature loomed over Alastair and Kerrick as they both struggled to disentangle themselves and get up. It radiated satisfaction along with the spoiled-meat smell, its strange, disorienting movements carrying it closer to them.
Kerrick, who’d managed to roll over on his back, stared at the thing, transfixed and terrified.
Alastair’s thoughts raced. He had only a second to act, and his weapon was gone. In desperation, he poured energy into the tiny shield and concentrated hard on activating it, then summoned his own shield.
What happened next startled him so much he nearly lost his concentration. The shield sprang up as it always did, but much larger and brighter: a dome appeared over himself and Kerrick, lighting up the room with its glow. The creature slammed into it, screamed in frustration, and surged backward. A second later, it went shadowy again and flowed out of the room.
Alastair rolled to the side and snatched the dagger back up, still holding the shield. To his dismay, the tiny object didn’t seem to make it any easier to maintain the shield—it still drained his rapidly-depleting reserves to do it—but it certainly seemed to make the barrier larger and tougher. Panting, he took a final glance around to make sure the creature had really departed, then let the shield drop. He didn’t get up.
Kerrick was breathing hard, pale and sweating. “Sir…dear God…what was that thing?”
“Don’t know exactly.” Alastair’s voice came out as an exhausted whisper. He sat up to take the pressure off his bleeding back, swallowed hard, and looked down at the tiny shield. It felt warm in his hand—not uncomfortably so, but the same way a machine might feel after being used for a while. He wondered if it was possible to burn it out from overuse.
Kerrick crawled over and grabbed the flashlight. “We should go…before it comes after us again.”
Alastair nodded, but his mind wasn’t on the man’s words. “We can’t let it get Mr. Desmond,” he said.
“Sir?”
“It’s going to ambush him. That’s what it wants, and he won’t be looking for it. I’ll bet he doesn’t even think it’s possible for anything to get inside his house. If he doesn’t see it coming, it will kill him before he can fight back.”
Kerrick walked over to stand protectively over him, his back pressed against the wall. “I don’t know what we can do, sir,” he said gently. “He won’t be back until tomorrow. Without the phones—”
“I know…I know…” Alastair bowed his head, studying the dagger and shield in his shaking hands. “And if we go to the workroom now and try to come back out in the morning to warn him, I’m sure that thing will be waiting for us. It won’t let us spoil its plans.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. Suddenly, it all seemed so overwhelming—he wasn’t an action star or one of those superheroes from the comic books. He was a scared, exhausted fifteen-year-old boy, and he had no idea what to do next.
“Sir…” Kerrick leaned down and gently gripped his shoulder. “Come on. It will be all right. We’ll figure something out. You’ve already done so much…” His voice trembled. “You saved the others…that was more than anyone had any right to expect of you. And then you risked your life to come down here to find me…you shouldn’t have done that, sir. You shouldn’t have…”
“I don’t know what to do, Kerrick.” Alastair bowed his head further, leaning it against his arms. His back hurt like fire, he was dizzy, and his head pounded harder than ever. He wasn’t even sure he could make it back up to the workroom. If the creature attacked them again—which he was sure it would do—not only would he die, but so would Kerrick. And if the thing got Desmond tomorrow, eventually the others would have to venture out of the workroom—would it lie in wait for them as well, picking them off one by one? By the time anyone from the outside figured out something was wrong and found a way into the house, all they’d find was a massacre. “If only we had another way to contact Mr. Desmond…but it wouldn’t matter. By the time he got back here from London, it would be too late even if we could reach him.”
Kerrick was silent for a moment; when he spoke, his voice was contemplative. “No, sir…it wouldn’t.”
Alastair raised his head. “What do you mean?”
“You do know about the teleportation portals, don’t you?”
“Yes…of course.” Mages used a series of portals scattered around the world to travel quickly from one far-flung location to another. There was a private one—a rare thing, his father had told him—on the grounds of his own home back in Surrey. Without magical ability he couldn’t use it on his own, and his father had never taken him through it, but he knew where it was. “But—”
“Mr. Desmond has one at the London house…and there’s one here as well.”
Alastair could hardly believe he’d heard correctly. The dizziness must be playing tricks on him. “A portal? Here? He never mentioned it…”
“No, sir. It’s not common knowledge. But I assure you, they do exist. He used the one here to go to London earlier tonight.”
A faint hope sprung up, but then immediately died. He slumped again. “That’s brilliant—but it won’t help if we can’t contact him. I don’t know how to use the portal, even if you showed me where it was. And I’m not sure I’ve got the strength left to get you to the workroom and come back down here and try.”
Kerrick shook his head, sighing in frustration. “No, sir. You couldn’t do it anyway. He’s got special wards around it, as he does around all the other more private areas of the house. I doubt you’d be able to pass them.”
“Then it’s no use…Kerrick, I’m sorry…I tried, but I don’t—”
He stopped, as a wild thought occurred to him. He raised his head again. “Kerrick…”
“Sir?”
“Those wards—the ones he has around the private areas of the house. What happens if someone tries to cross them?”
“Er—I believe it immobilizes them, sir, and…” A slow smile grew on his angular face. “…and it alerts Mr. Desmond to the intrusion.” The smile faded. “But how will that help us? Surely the creature isn’t foolish enough to—”
“No…” Alastair said. With renewed energy, he pulled himself to his feet. “No…but we are.”
“What do you mean, sir? Are you suggesting one of us try to cross the wards?”
“You’re sure it immobilizes only? It doesn’t kill, or injure?”
“Yes, sir. I’m certain. Mr. Desmond feels quite confident he can deal with any threat to his house without resorti
ng to murder or permanent injury. But I don’t see—”
Alastair’s mind was spinning out an idea faster than he could pin it down. It was probably a stupid idea. Definitely a desperate one. It would certainly require risk. But if it worked—
“Kerrick…” he said slowly, eyeing the man with a manic smile. “Let’s set a trap, shall we?”
By the time he explained his insane idea, Kerrick was smiling too. It was more than a bit worried, but it was definitely a smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Five minutes later, they were on the move, but slowly.
“Come on, sir…you can do it. Please…you’ve got to keep going.”
Alastair staggered along next to Kerrick. His arm was slung around the taller man’s shoulders, and Kerrick was half-supporting, half-carrying him along. He still clutched the tiny shield in one hand, but the dagger was now stuck through his belt. Kerrick held the flashlight, shining it ahead of him. Alastair could feel him trembling, almost as much as he himself was.
“I’ve…got to rest…please, Kerrick, let’s stop a moment.” His voice came out as barely a whisper.
They’d made it back to the stairway leading up to the ground floor. The door at the top was still open, just as Alastair had left it when he’d come down. He slumped in Kerrick’s grip, sagging against the wall as if he might faint.
“Sir—” Kerrick cast a frightened glance up toward the stairway. “If you can just make it a bit further—”
“I can’t…please…just—” He shifted to magical sight, glancing around without raising his head. He’d have to time this with absolute precision, but if he’d sold it well enough, it shouldn’t be long now—
