The hay continued to shake as little hands pulled up. Bitherby climbed above the pile. The tiny elf slipped on the smooth, loose stalks and slid to the dirt floor. Seeing the three humans waiting for him, he looked down at his brown pants and batted away the dust and dirt.
“How did you cause the roof to come off?” Annie asked.
Bitherby looked at his tiny hands, the greenish gray skin that hung from each finger, from his palm, from the back of his hand. “I scared, ma’am. Thought I heard the ma—mast—master outside.”
“You’re safe Bitherby. Demons can’t enter the school grounds,” the headmaster assured him. “I’m going to step outside and let you talk,” he said and exited the building. Mr. Jacobi not as pleasant, glowered at Annie as he followed.
The elf shook when she sat beside him, nestling herself on an intact bale of hay. Bitherby fidgeted and backed away, falling against the hay and sitting roughly in the scratchy straw.
“Even though demons can’t get into the school grounds, I’m worried about damage to the school and the students and teachers. We need to leave.”
“You said I be safe.” As the elf shook, so did the entire bale.
“We’ll be going to the safest place I know. They won’t come for us there.”
Bitherby shook his head and jumped from the bale. “You already say that. Look.” He pointed to the mess. She glanced around the stable and shook her head. There wasn’t time to deal with it.
“You created this. Where we go next—trust me, they won’t get to you.”
The door groaned, she pulled up her hands facing the intruder, but it was only the headmaster. He closed the door and joined them near the hay.
“Where will you go?” Headmaster Turtledove asked. For a moment he had apparently forgotten he stood under the hole in the ceiling. Snow covered his bare head and the shoulders of his Hawaiian shirt. He walked farther into the building and brushed himself off.
“Plausible deniability.”
The headmaster chuckled softly. “That’s an interesting place. You should be safe there. But you’ll be safer here, if you stay.”
With all of the protections spells around the property and throughout the building, Annie knew Windmere was safe. But the reason she didn’t head to any other safe house was the same reason she was leaving the school with the elf. Gladden or the Fraternitatem wouldn’t go to the prison. No one would consider breaking in there.
“I can’t stay here. Not in the middle of the school year. With all the students around.” Suddenly she was aware how eerily quiet it was, as if even the creatures in the forest had gone into hiding.
“No one can get in. We have procedures for this,” the headmaster argued. His anxiety was clear on his face and in his voice.
Annie didn’t want to put him or the students in danger. “Really? Where will you go?”
The unnerving quiet was replaced by scratching and knocking.
“Where’s the stable master?”
“That’s a good question,” Headmaster Turtledove said. He glanced around the destroyed barn. Voices squabbled beyond the doors.
“I don’t think he left,” Annie said.
“It’s time to get you out of here.” Headmaster Turtledove led them across the barn just as a heavy jinx pounded the side of the structure. Pieces of rotted wood rained down on them.
“What the hell!” Annie pulled Bitherby from the falling debris. The building was hit again, and the precarious roof shook and rumbled.
Headmaster Turtledove motioned them to walk against the far wall. He crouched low and peered outside. “I can’t tell how many of them are out there, but sparks are flying from just inside the forest.”
Boom!
Like a bomb, a hole was blown through the south wall, tossing Annie across the floor with the elf still in her arms. His small body landed on her as her head hit the winter-hardened dirt.
The front wall was burst apart by the hex. Dust and debris cascaded on them. Headmaster Turtledove crawled to the wall and touched the weathered wood. White light sailed around the perimeter—a protection spell. A white aura hung over them, shimmering in the darkness.
Spells hit the protection cover and bounced away, vibrating and softly shaking the building. Headmaster Turtledove lunged for Annie and assisted her to a seated position. She touched the back of her head where a large bump already grew.
“How’s your head?”
“I’m okay. Bitherby, you okay?”
“Yes, Miss Annie.” The elf clung to her like a small child. His body trembled as his arms reached around her neck.
“How do we get out of here?” she asked.
Trust the magic.
As successive jinxes hit the building, vibrations rumbled across the frozen ground. The headmaster helped her up and led them to the back wall. Though it felt solid, Annie had some idea of what was to come.
He waved his palm across the wall, and the light shimmered with magic. He pushed against the aged wood; it led to a staircase.
Boom!
Another jinx pounded the building; the wall swayed.
“Go!” he urged. “All the way down. Lock yourself in. I’ll block the door. Just go!”
With one last look, Annie saw the headmaster joined by several staff members, all aiming their palms toward the intruders, wizards and witches Annie believed must have been sent by Gladden to fetch her. The jinxes flew in a wild light show before the door was slammed shut on them, plunging them into darkness.
Chapter 17
Annie had probably arrived home several hours before Cham considered leaving work. He had spent the day away from the office, chasing several leads regarding their missing person’s caseload. After speaking with two families for a second time, he had learned that their loved ones were indeed either shapeshifters or had the ability to change into snakes at will—and that they all went missing on the same day. Cham was more convinced they were stuck in the market as their animal forms.
And yet, the Wizard Guard was having difficulty going in after them. He sighed heavily as he ended his very long and unproductive day.
After checking back in at Wizard Hall and writing his daily report, he sat back in his chair to catch his breath until his stomach growled loudly, reminding him it was time to leave. He dialed Annie cell phone. It rang several times before going to voicemail.
Maybe she’s asleep.
But Annie had gone rogue in the past, putting herself in danger during the investigation of Princess Amelie’s death.
She promised she wouldn’t do that again.
Cham desperately tried to ignore that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and tried to convince himself that Annie was asleep and away from her phone and not chasing some lead without their knowledge.
Glancing at the clock, he cleaned up his piles and headed to her house.
Leaving the safety of the Wizard Hall courtyard, Cham landed on Annie’s back porch and slipped in the thick snow piling on her deck. Balancing himself, he reached for the back door, which hung precariously on its hinges, unlatched. Turning around, he noticed the remaining footsteps almost covered by the heavy snow.
Not Annie’s, not Zola’s. Who was here?
Based on the footprints, Cham determined that two large men had been at Annie’s house. The worry in the pit of his stomach screamed.
The open back door flew inward, and a gust of wind rushed into the house. Zola’s words rang in his head. She’s not safe with the ring in the house.
With the comforting knowledge that Annie had dropped the ring at Wizard Hall this morning, Cham entered her house, his palms out and ready.
Each step took thought. His heart beat rapidly, and his stomach churned. Starting in the kitchen, Cham saw immediately that the floor was covered in debris. The blood lock had been blown to pieces, and wood, metal, and paper were strewn across the floor. Annie’s Book of Shadows lay in pieces, bits of folders were charred, and the smell of smoke hung in the air.
What a
re those folders?
Curious, he picked up a pile of paper. The edge of the folder read a case file number from 2008.
What case was this?
He illuminated the countertops and floors and followed the trail of debris until he entered the den. With nothing odd in the back room, he headed through the kitchen. His boots crunched across wood and paper; a kitchen chair was missing.
What the hell?
With calculated steps, Cham entered the living room, where the sixth dining room chair had been placed at the center of the room. A pile of rope lay on the floor. Examining the twine, he noticed several drops of blood. He ran his crystal across the binding; white magic had spliced the rope in two. He followed the magic upwards and noted that whoever was tied to the chair had cast a spell.
Annie!
Dropping the twine, Cham took a long look around the room. The heavy mirror he had helped her hang lay on the floor, shattered into mirror dust.
Did you get away, Annie?
Cham ran two stairs at a time to the second floor. Sick with worry, he entered her bedroom. The bed was still made, and the room was empty. Both front bedrooms were empty and untouched.
“Damn it, Annie, where are you?” Panic gripped Cham as he dialed Gibbs and explained.
“On my way,” Gibbs said.
Trying desperately to keep his anxiety in check, Cham methodically collected magic from the deck, back hallway, kitchen, and living room, storing the magic inside his crystal.
“Anything?” Gibbs asked when he arrived and found Cham in the living room, examining the broken mirror.
“Two teleportation spells, one spell that broke her protection at the back door. A spell knocked someone out in the back hallway. A spell blew apart the blood lock. And two spells in here: one spliced the rope and another sent someone flying to the mirror.” His voice was quick and anxious.
“Someone broke in and attacked the cabinet. When the ring wasn’t found, whoever it was waited for her to come home. Knocked her out and tied her up,” Gibbs surmised as he examined the space.
“With her and Zola missing, I’d say yes. One of the teleportation spells was newer than the other. However, the spell that knocked her out was later than all the others probably by hours. Whoever was here waited a while.” Cham grimaced.
“Best case scenario, the girl got herself untied and escaped,” Gibbs said as Cham summoned a map and his scrying crystal.
Cham used Annie’s magic that he stored in his crystal and used it to scry for her. His hands shook violently as he maneuvered it across the map. His heart tightened when the crystal remained dull and cold.
“Your parents’ place?” Gibbs asked.
“They’d have left me notice, so I’m guessing no. Maybe Tartarus.” With the map of Tartarus Prison in front of him, Cham scried for Annie, though the crystal didn’t react.
“Tartarus would cloak her,” Gibbs reminded him.
“Yeah, right.”
Where are you Annie?
He stared at the map of the United States as he thought of the locations Annie might find as safe.
Wait… the elf!
“She went to Windmere. She’ll go to protect the elf!” Cham said.
*
Unprepared for the strength of the snow storm over Minnesota, Cham and Gibbs landed precariously in two feet of snow.
“Damn,” said Cham as he buttoned his lightweight spring jacket.
With their heads down, they trudged down the mile-long path to the school, arriving at the gates in forty-five minutes, which was twice as long as the normal trek took. Snow caked their pants, and their hair was drenched with sweat and melted snow. Anxiously, Cham plunged his fingers against the intercom.
“Yes, how may I help you?” said the pleasant voice.
“Robert Chamsky and John Gibbs for Headmaster Turtledove. And hurry, please!”
As if their presence was expected, the giant guard immediately retrieved them from the gate and motioned for them to enter. Cham and Gibbs followed closely, entering into the warmth of the school.
“School changed,” Gibbs grunted. Brushing snow from their hair and coats and stomping out their shoes.
“Nice,” Cham grumbled back and followed the giant in a direction neither expected, toward the back of the main entry foyer, into a low lit corridor.
“Where are we going?” Cham asked, though he knew the giants did little more than grunt and nod.
“Patience, boy,” Gibbs commanded as the giant removed a tapestry hanging from the stone wall, revealing a door. He rapped on the wood with knuckles the size of small stones.
The door squeaked open, revealing stairs that angled downwards. The giant remained at the top of the stairs and waited for the two men to take their first steps into the bowels of the earth.
“You ever been to the school basement?” Cham asked.
“Never.”
Dim light from overhead sconces illuminated their way down several flights of stairs. At the bottom, light streamed from the room to the left, which was located directly under the dining hall. When they reached the bottom and turned in, they saw Bitherby sitting on Annie’s lap.
Bitherby climbed down from her lap just in time for Annie to lunge for Cham and jumped into waiting arms and buried herself in his embrace.
Chapter 18
Annie strolled with Cham through the maze that made up most of the basement under the school. They turned left and made a quick right; the maze of hallways led them closer to the center of the basement in a slow and winding way.
Annie had never been to the basement. It was a little jarring as they meandered in silence without purpose.
Her shoulder ached, and she rubbed the muscle with her bandaged wrist. Cham stopped the walk and took her hand, staring at the wrap.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” Annie said. Above Cham’s head, a large water stain marked the cement wall. The musty stench was strong. She grimaced and breathed through her mouth. “We must be just below the lower level bathrooms. They always flooded,” she mentioned for no particular reason. She couldn’t figure out if Cham was mad or relieved.
“I’m not mad. I was very worried. Now I’m just relieved,” Cham assured her with a warm squeeze of her hand. They continued down the passageway.
His silence allowed Annie time alone with her scattered thoughts and memories of her time at school, of that bathroom just above them. It was a large bathroom, roomy enough to work in; she made potions in there all the time as a student. Annie had gotten in the habit of squirreling away as many ingredients as she could from her class and hiding them in the storage bins.
I wonder if I left any behind.
The thought made her smile.
While they walked the maze of hallways, Bitherby sat under the watchful gaze of Headmaster Turtledove, several giants, and Gibbs, who guarded the bottom of the staircase. No one was getting in or out, even though Bitherby had pleaded for the last hour to leave. His small voice had squeaked and bounced off the walls. Annie was glad for the reprieve.
They turned another corner, finally reaching the center of the basement. She still couldn’t figure out the pointless maze.
Cham stopped. His gaze on Annie was intense, worried, anxious.
“What?” she asked. He pinned her against the wall, his mouth on hers. Worry, anger, and fear was in the kiss. She molded herself against his chest, feeling all of him. Her skin hummed at his touch. She greeted his tongue gratefully and let out a longing groan.
His hands found her butt, her breasts; she touched the zipper of his jeans. Thoughts of Gladden popped in her head, and suddenly she was done.
“Sorry. I can’t do this now,” she whispered into his neck.
“No, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into protective arms. Annie melted against him. Through his shirt, his heart pounded in her ear. “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
To reach around his neck, Annie stood on her tiptoes. Her kiss was gentle, soft and slow.
We fit together.
His hands cupped the small of her back.
“I figured you’d go to Tartarus. Since I couldn’t verify, I hoped you came here first to get the elf.”
She took a deep breath and inhaled his scent, warm and spicy. Cham knew it was her favorite. She closed her eyes.
“I saw the blood lock,” he said. “It was torn to pieces.”
“I’m pretty sure it was Gladden Worchester. He demanded I give him the ring. When I confronted him about the Fraternitatem, he seemed confused,” Annie said. She stepped away from Cham. He furrowed his brow.
I know that look.
“I want to move in with you,” he said.
She pondered his unexpected revelation. They had been dating for the last six months, and he had spent many nights with her at her house, yet the suggestion seemed out of context and for the wrong reason.
“For realsies or because you want to protect me?” she attempted to joke in order to ease the tension. She quickly realized that Cham wasn’t joking.
“Annie, they’re going to come after you. When they do, I want to be there for you.”
I love you, she thought. She sighed. “Only if you move in with because you love me and for no other reason.”
“I do love you. It’s time,” he said.
She stepped into his embrace. Her hands grazed the back of his shirt only as far as she could lift her left arm. He stroked her still damp, frizzy hair and kissed the top of her head. He pulled her chin toward him and kissed her lips, his tongue finding hers.
Pipes clinked and water dripped around them. Cham pulled away, touched her cheek, and pulled a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face, tucking it behind her ear.
“So Gladden wants the ring. You think the djinn’s forcing him to find it?”
She chuckled and stroked his back with her fingers, causing him to shudder. “Yeah. I’m sure the djinn’s really in charge of the market and Gladden. He’s definitely forced to clean up the mess.”
The center of this maze was ten feet by ten feet. Scorch marks stained the walls and floor. Annie bent down and touched the flaky wallboard. “They might use this space to practice.” She rubbed the dust between her fingers. “If Gladden didn’t come back with the ring and Bitherby and I are still alive, I’m guessing he doesn’t have much time.”
Black Market (The Wizard Hall Chronicles Book 2) Page 17
