The Dire Lord smiled. “When she dies, she will be mine. While she lives, she may be yours. Judge for yourself.”
A shudder climbed Ed’s spine. He wanted to bargain for Marta’s life, but how did one bargain with a Dire Lord?
While he hesitated, the Dire Lord said, “Go back to Jerome and his mother, quickly.”
“What shall I do? Where shall I take them?”
“Go to one who calls you and answer her need,” came the reply.
Who could he mean but Marta?
The Dire Lord stepped back and vanished into the darkness. Ed turned and hurried along the corridor to the entrance into the courtyard. This time he would not fail Marta—or her Dire Lord protector.
Mother Esterville was still kneeling by Jerome, entreating her gods for his life. Ed dropped down beside her and again took hold of her arm and Jerome’s hand. “I found the help I needed,” he said.
A woman’s voice called his name. Where the voice came from he had no idea. He merely focused on the sound and willed himself and his charges to find its source.
To his consternation, the voice was not Marta’s but Miss Abigail’s. He and Mother Esterville now knelt and Jerome lay on Miss Abigail's front porch.
Now that they were here, it was pointless to question the Dire Lord’s wisdom. Ed could do nothing but stand and raise his fist and pound on Miss Abigail’s front door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CONVERGENCE
Kyla couldn’t believe it. In defiance of all the odds, she and Leah had reached Genevieve Wirth’s house and school without detection and she had slipped around the back way while Leah successfully distracted Hardwick. Only to be captured by peacekeeper guards she hadn’t expected.
She should have expected them. She berated herself for her carelessness as the four peacekeepers hustled her away, shooing curious children from their path. She didn’t resist. She was no match for four guards unless she used her power, and if she did that, she might have little or none left later, when she needed it more.
School, after all, was out for the day, which meant that the young teacher was safe for this day, at least.
Or so she thought until she heard the shouts and screams.
The peacekeepers whirled her around to face the direction they’d come from. One of the four hurried back to see what had happened. Kyla knew. Even at the distance of the block and a half they’d gone, she could see the flames. It hadn’t happened the way she’d seen in her vision and so took her by surprise. Surprise and the dreadful knowledge that she’d failed.
She had to be there, even though it was too late to save Genevieve. There was the child to think of.
She sang to the wind a summoning song. The strong breeze that had been blowing all day heeded her call and came huffing and whiffling around her. The force of her song transformed it into a gale that blasted the guards off their feet. Released from their grip and aided by the wind, she sped back to the house.
Little girls who had remained close enough to witness the tragedy were screaming. The red-haired girl was staring at a pile of ash that darkened the leaf-strewn lawn in front of the Wirth house. Leah had collapsed into a sobbing heap. Hardwick had his pistol aimed at the child, but his hand was shaking badly and tears filled his eyes. “Witch-girl,” he was muttering as Kyla reached him.
Snatching the pistol from his hand, she said, “This is what I was trying to prevent.”
With a growl, he lunged at her, but she dodged and ran to the girl. Holding the child against her, she pointed the pistol at Hardwick, halting his advance. “Stop!” she ordered. “You will not hurt this child.”
“She killed Genevieve,” he said. “My beautiful daughter. My only child. Look!” He pointed to the ashes being swept away by the wind. “That’s all that’s left of her. She did this, and you don’t want me to hurt her? By the gods, I’ll kill her.”
“You were warned. You could have prevented it. The child didn’t know her own power.”
Pressed against Kyla, the girl began to wail. “I didn’t mean to burn her up. I just meant to scare her.”
“I know, dear. Power can do terrible things when it isn’t controlled. You didn’t know, and I couldn’t get to you to teach you.”
“Where did the fire come from?”
“Your anger built it inside you and sent it out.”
“She’s a witch, like you and the other one,” Hardwick bellowed. “She’ll burn, too.”
“There’s been enough burning,” Kyla said, all too aware of the peacekeepers who were closing in on her along with a few women drawn out of the neighboring houses by the shouts and screams. She wanted no more killing, and the pistol she held would be of little use against so many. “Leah, pull yourself together. Get up. We have to get out of here.”
Leah stood, tears coursing down her cheeks. She stumbled to Kyla’s side and placed a protective hand on Veronica’s head.
“I’ve got to try something I’ve never tried before,” Kyla said, keeping a wary eye on the growing crowd. Councilor Hardwick had wanted a display of magic. He was about to get one—if all worked well.
She couldn’t use her invisibility trick. That had to be initiated unobserved; with all the eyes already focused on her, it wouldn’t work. She could summon the wind again. The brisk autumn breeze could easily be stirred to a gale that would drive at least part of the crowd back to the safety of their homes. But the ones that remained would still be enough to defy the wind and close in on her. She had to try something more daring. She could think of only one other thing she could do to enable them to escape. Under the circumstances, it was cruel, but it would cause no physical harm.
Taking a deep breath and summoning all her power, she created a mental image of flames and projected it outward, surrounding her, Leah, and the child with it. People screamed and through the smoke and flame Kyla could see them stampeding away.
Lifting Veronica and holding her face so that she would not see and be terrified by the flames, Kyla whispered to Leah, “It’s only an illusion. Don’t be afraid. I’m going to hold it around us while we move away from here.”
Leah’s face was ashen, but she nodded.
“Take this,” Kyla said, pushing the pistol into Leah’s hand to free her own to get a better grip on Veronica.
Leah held the weapon gingerly, its barrel toward the ground. Kyla led the way around the stunned and cowering Hardwick and down the street.
To Hardwick, the guards, and any others who stayed to watch, it would have looked like a moving pillar of fire through which the figures of Kyla, Leah, and the child would be only faintly visible. Frightened as the guards must have been, one had the presence of mind to draw his rifle and shoot into the flame. The bullet grazed Kyla's shoulder, leaving a streak of pain and the knowledge that if he fired again, she might not be so lucky.
“Run!” she told Leah. “Around the corner!”
The two broke into a run that forced Kyla to drop the flame illusion to concentrate on speed. They raced to the cross street and whirled around the corner, momentarily out of sight of the pursuing guards. “Behind there,” Kyla directed, pointing to a large flowering bush in the closest yard. Leah followed without question, bless her!
Now Kyla could begin the low hum that wove around them the spell of invisibility. Satisfied that they were all protected within that weaving, Kyla again moved them out, this time with a whispered request to Leah to lead the way to Mother Esterville’s house.
They stayed well away from the peacekeepers and other men, whom they could see searching up and down the streets. So long as they didn’t intersect directly with a searcher, they were hidden from sight.
They proceeded cautiously toward the Esterville home, Veronica shaking and sniveling, Leah grim-faced, moving like a sleepwalker, and Kyla hoping desperately that they could reach safety before her power was exhausted.
She still had little idea of where places were in Carey, so it was a great relief to discover that Mother Esterville
’s home was only two streets over from where she first invoked the invisibility spell. She set Veronica down and led her and Leah to a side door where she could change her song from the one that rendered them invisible to one that opened the lock on the door.
Inside Mother Esterville’s house, Kyla relocked the side door and guided Leah and Veronica upstairs to a bedroom in the rear of the house where, when a light was needed, it would not be seen from the street in front.
She eased Veronica down onto the bed and sat beside her. Relieved of the girl’s weight, she massaged her aching arms. Leah collapsed into a chair and sat slumped and silent. Veronica rolled over on her stomach and hid her face in the bed covers.
“Rest, both of you,” Kyla said. “I’ll be right back.”
She hated to leave them, even for a minute, but she needed to check the place, make sure no one else was in the house, and look through the windows to see if there were watchers. She did all those things quickly, and also dared to step out the back door long enough to fill a jug of water at the pump. After all they had been through, they needed water for drinking and washing. The pump handle squealed as she worked it, and she glanced all around to see if anyone was close enough to hear. Fortunately, the flower-filled back yard was lined with trees that blocked the view of curious neighbors.
Back in the house, the rear door securely barred, she washed her face and hands, drank a glass of water, then hurried upstairs with glasses and the rest of the water. Neither Leah nor Veronica seemed to have moved since she left. She pressed a glass into Leah’s hand. “Drink this,” she ordered.
She poured a second glass for Veronica and sat on the bed beside her. “I have water for you to drink,” she said. “And a wet cloth to wipe your face.”
“Go away,” the child said, not turning.
Kyla placed her hand on Veronica’s back. “I know you’re scared and upset,” she said. “It will help you to talk about what you did, but first drink some water and let’s wipe your face.”
The child shook her head. Kyla set the water glass and the wet cloth on the dressing table. “All right, we’ll talk first.” Sitting back down, she rubbed the girl’s shoulders. “You were angry, and I’d guess you only meant to frighten Miss Genevieve. Is that right?”
A muffled “Yes,” told her that Veronica was listening to her, at least.
“You didn’t know you had the power to send fire like that, did you?”
“No-o-o-o.” The word faded into a fresh outbreak of sobs.
“But you knew you had some kind of power. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have thought you could frighten her. What did you think would happen?”
“I don’t know,” wailed the child.
“Have you ever used your power like that before—to scare someone?”
“No-o-o-o, but—” the child broke off, trembling.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” Veronica turned her face even further away.
Kyla rose and went to Leah. She took the empty glass from Leah’s hands. “I need your help,” she said. “You understand children much better than I, and Veronica knows you. She’s more likely to talk to you.”
Taking away the cloth she was holding over her face, Leah gazed at Kyla through red-rimmed eyes. “What do you need to know?”
“I need to know how long she’s known she has special powers and how she’s used the power before. I’d like to know what she expected to happen when she pointed at Genevieve.”
Leah nodded and went to sit on the bed beside Veronica, while Kyla dropped into the chair.
“Veronica, turn around, dear, and look at me,” Leah said. “I must talk to you.”
Slowly the child turned but kept her eyes averted. Her face was a study in misery.
“Veronica, did you hear Miss Kyla’s questions?”
The girl nodded.
“And can you tell me how long you’ve known you could do special things?”
“A few days,” Veronica answered, still not meeting Leah’s gaze. “Just since I left your class.”
“When was that?” Kyla asked quickly.
“Last Fourday,” Leah answered without looking away from Veronica. “So you found out right after that?”
Again the girl nodded.
Only four days ago, Kyla reflected. After she and Marta arrived, though neither she nor Marta had any contact with the girl. Ed might have, but she didn’t think so, not since his own powers had been awakened. In any case, he wouldn’t have known how to recognize the potential for power in someone and awaken it.
“How did you find out?” Leah asked.
Kyla leaned forward, eager to hear the answer.
“Nightstar, my cat, caught a bird, and I didn’t want him to kill it. I called him and told him to drop it, but he didn’t pay any attention. So I pointed at him and said, ‘Come!’ like that,” —she made her voice sound deep and angry— “and he flew up into the air and landed in front of me.” She gave a little laugh. “All his hair was standing straight up, and he dropped the bird, and it got away before he even realized he’d dropped it.”
Leah gave Kyla a questioning look. “Then what?” Kyla prompted. “How else did you use the power?”
Veronica didn’t answer until Leah repeated the question. Then she said, “I tried to call my doll, Sally, to come to me, but nothing happened. I tried it again with Nightstar, but it didn’t work then, either. But I had to go to Miss Genevieve’s school last Fiveday, and I didn’t like it. After school I walked home with the Farley sisters, and I got mad at Beth Farley ’cause she kept talking about how she hated Miss Abigail. I pushed her and she pushed me back, and then Nora started pushing me, too. They knocked me down and they were laughing. I got real mad, and I pointed at them, and they both fell down. I got up and ran home. I didn’t hurt them, though, honest, Miss Leah. They got right back up, and that’s why I had to run.”
“So when you pointed at Miss Genevieve, you thought she’d fall down the way the Farley girls had?”
She nodded her head and tears filled her eyes. “I just scared Beth and Nora, and that’s all I meant to do to Miss Genevieve.”
Leah hugged Veronica. To Kyla she said, “I think she’s telling the truth.”
“So do I, but what I can’t understand is why she didn’t just knock Genevieve over. Where did the fire come from?”
“You saw the fire in your vision, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but that only showed me what was going to happen. It didn’t tell me how or why.”
“Isn’t it just that she has a power that she doesn’t know how to use?”
“That’s only part of it,” Kyla said.
“She was angry.”
“She was angry at the cat and at the Farley sisters, but she didn’t hurt them. In fact, she could only use the power when she was angry, right, Veronica? When you tried to use it just to experiment, as you did on your doll, it didn’t work. Nothing happened unless you were really mad about something, right?”
Veronica pulled away from Leah and wrinkled her brow, thinking. “I wasn’t really mad at Nightstar,” she said. “I didn’t want him to kill the bird, but I wasn’t mad at him.”
“No, but you were angry at what he was doing.”
“A little, I guess,” the child conceded.
“But not as angry as you were at the Farley sisters,” Kyla mused. “And you were even more angry at Miss Genevieve, is that right?”
“I guess so,” Veronica said in a small voice.
“All right,” Kyla said. “Veronica, I’ll teach you how to control your power. It will take time, but—”
“I don’t want to use it again,” the girl cried. “Not ever!”
“What will happen if someone makes you real mad about something? Suppose you forget?”
“No, no!” Veronica screamed and burst into tears.
Leah held her tightly while sobs shook her small body.
“I think she’s learned her lesson,” Leah said. “A terrible way to le
arn, but I don’t think she’ll do … that … again.”
Kyla regarded her in silence for a moment, then said, “She may not mean to—but she will.”
Hardwick knelt on the ground beside the pile of ashes and charred slivers of bone that was all that remained of his beautiful daughter. A few peacekeepers milled around awkwardly, waiting for instructions he could not think to give. The recruits had gone chasing after the wonder worker and the murdering child. They hadn’t caught them, or they would be back.
He sifted the cooling ashes through his hands and marveled at how a vibrant life with so much potential could in mere seconds be reduced to so little. Not even the fresh, clean scent of his daughter remained—only the sickening stench of burning flesh, a smell that would haunt him forever.
The wonder worker had warned him that the girl was dangerous, and he’d refused to listen. He’d thought he was protecting Genevieve. Instead he’d allowed her killer to act. He’d condemned his own daughter by his stubbornness.
“What’s happening here?” his wife’s voice penetrated the miasma of his grief. “Where’s Genevieve?”
He could only point at the ashes in his hands and on the ground.
“What do you mean?” his wife shouted.
He rose and put his sooty hands on her shoulders, imprinting her with her daughter’s ashy remains. “She’s gone, Nellie. Killed by some kind of evil magic.”
“No!” Nellie’s shriek filled the air. “You let those witches get to her after all?”
“It wasn’t the wonder workers. It was Veronica Crowell, just as they said.”
“They were behind it,” his wife wailed. She collapsed onto the ground beside the blackened circle, keening and pounding the earth with her fists. “You let them kill her,” she cried. “You let them!”
He wanted to console her, but her accusation and his own sense of guilt held him back. He was standing helplessly beside her when Leo Crowell ran up.
“What’s happened here? Veronica hasn’t come home and the Farley girls are telling some wild tale—”
“It’s true,” Hardwick said. “Your girl did have some kind of power. She killed my Genevieve. Just pointed her finger at her and fire exploded from it and—” he couldn’t finish, could only point at the ashes.
Bringers of Magic (Arucadi Book 2) Page 25
