Page 87 of Horn of Winter

I still hit with enough force to jar every bone in my body and stumbled forward for several feet before dropping to my knees and plunging the other knife point into the ground. The dangerous energy that still burned through muscle, fiber, and flesh channeled out into the earth, leaving me shaking and weak.

I sucked in several deep breaths that didn’t really help the inner quivering, then pushed to my feet. My legs shook and my knees wanted nothing more than to buckle and hit the ground again, but I locked them tight, determined to remain upright. When I felt secure enough to move, I stumbled forward, my grip on the knives so fierce my knuckles were white. Tiny wisps of jagged light still played around the tips of both blades, a warning the power I’d invited in hadn’t completely dissipated. Thankfully, I didn’t feel in immediate danger of being boiled alive by it.

Which might be famous last words, but still…

I staggered up the steps, stepped through the remains of the front door, and followed the soft sounds of groans to the rear of the remaining portion of the house—a kitchen diner, I discovered as I entered. Dust danced through the air and both the walls and the ceiling were cracked, but the song of the wood in this section was strong, even if distressed.

I swept my gaze around the room, quickly spotting Mathi. He had a cut across his cheek but was pushing into a sitting position and otherwise looked okay. An older man and woman were unconscious under the breakfast counter, while my target lay in an ungainly heap to my right and showing signs of stirring. He was also the one making all the noise.

I hurried over, touched his neck, and said, “You will not use your storm-held gifts in any way from this point on unless I say otherwise, nor will you attack me or anyone else physically. You will also answer every single question Mathi and I ask.”

As my power washed through him, surprise ran through me. Given my aunt’s propensity to use pixie compelling magic on those she employed, I’d expected to find at leastsomesign of it within the kid. But there was none. Maybe she simply didn’t think he’d be found, or she’d reached the point where she didn’t really care.

He made a low, growly sound of frustration and opened his eyes. They were silver and filled with the violence he could no longer unleash. The whites of his eyes were also very red, suggesting he’d pushed his limits to raise then fling the car and entrap me.

I told him to sit upright but not move anywhere else, then left him to stew in his own insignificance and went over to check his parents. His mom had a nasty cut on the back of her head that was going to need attention, and his father had broken his wrist if its odd position was anything to go by, but other than the dust covering him, seemed fine. I quickly checked their pulses—both were strong, even if a little fast.

I dragged out my phone, called an ambulance and the IIT, then staggered over to Mathi and sat beside him. After driving a knife blade into the slate in the vague hope it would earth me enough to allow the remaining few flickers of inner lightning to dissipate, I said, “Well, that didn’t exactly go to plan, did it?”

He laughed softly. Ruefully. “It would seem that I did indeed tempt Fate a little too much. What did you do to the building?”

“Blew it apart.”

“Obviously, but how?”

“I called down lightning.”

“Which explains the little flickers of energy still dancing around you.” He lightly poked my shoulder with a stiffened finger. “It somewhat reminds me of the effect you get with one of those plasma lightning balls.”

“An effect I hope is fading, because if it doesn’t, I might be in big trouble.” Itfeltlike the heat was retreating, and the blade slammed into the slate continued to pulse, but it might also be a reaction to contained fury sitting across the other side of the room.

“It is.” He paused. “What happened to Henrick?”

“Our angry and rather stupid witch over there picked up the car and flung it. I sent the wind after him, so hopefully I was in time to break the smash back down.”

I’d barely finished when Mathi’s phone dinged. He dug it out from inside his coat pocket and glanced at the screen. “Seems you were. He’s shaken, but fine, apparently. Two tires were punctured when the car landed, so he’s called the RAC.”

“He might want to head to the hospital to get checked out once that’s done. We can catch a cab back.”

“No need. I’ll just call for the company chauffeur.”

As Mathi sent his two messages, I continued to study our captive. To say he radiated fury would be the understatement of the year, but there was no fear in him. Not yet, anyway. Maybe it was bravado, maybe it was simply a matter of not realizing the depths of trouble he was truly in.

Mathi tucked his phone away, then glanced at me. “Shall I do the honors and start the questions?”

I waved a hand towards our felon. “Feel free.”

Mathi gave Tony his best seriously unpleasant smile. “Now, young man, kindly explain to us why you were so eager to attack when all we wished to do was talk.”

Any sensible person would have answered immediately and honestly, even without my magic blanketing him, but Tony and sensible obviously weren’t bosom buddies. He fought answering for several seconds, but in the end had no real option.

“I was warned she was deadly. That she would kill me the minute she realized what I was doing.”

The “she” was accompanied by a chin pointed my way and a bit of a sneer.

“And who told you that?” Mathi asked.

“I only know her first name—Riayn.”

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