Page 59 of Salt Magic, Skin Magic
“But what—?”
“That’s our heading. That way.” John pointed down the tunnel. “West. Your token’s at the end of it.”
“I—I—”
“We’d better run. It’s quite a big hole. Your father’s bound to notice. You might want to do your breeches up, though.”
“John, I—”
“Don’t you want to get there first?”
Thornby did his breeches up, and they ran.
Chapter Twelve
Once out of the house, the heading remained clear. Big holes were ripped in trees, huge branches scattered like twigs. They ran west for perhaps twenty minutes, following the trail of destruction. Thornby wished for a horse with part of his mind, but he could hardly feel his chest and ankle now.
They came upon the post and rail fence that marked the estate boundary at this point. On the other side was a narrow field. Beyond that, a screen of yew trees, with a stone pumphouse behind them, its steep slate roof like a dunce’s cap. The yew hedge had a huge hole in it, and the pumphouse wall now sported a crater, the broken stone pale yellow against weathered grey.
Thornby hurled himself over the fence, but turned back immediately. He gripped the fence rail, wanting to scream with frustration. “The boundary. I can’t.”
“Isn’t that an estate building?”
“He owns the building, not the land. I can’t go there.”
There was no need to ask John to go for him; he was already climbing the fence. But then he paused for an agonisingly long moment. “What if he comes?” John was looking back the way they’d come, towards the Hall.
“I don’t know. Don’t care.” He grabbed the front of John’s shirt and gave him one quick, hard kiss. Then he pushed him away. “Quickly, go on! Go!”
***
John ran towards theround stone building. He’d heard it had something to do with the draining of the lake that had drowned Soren’s mother. It had never occurred to him that Dalton might own the building but not the land. It was the ideal place to hide something from Soren—completely out of his reach, safer than Dalton’s own pocket.
Once past the yews, he could see a tiny hole in the centre of the crater in the stone wall. He put his finger to it, feeling a draught of chill air from the inside. The stone gave back an echo of the sex-charm; he could almost taste Soren in it, could almost hear him moaning. No wonder inanimate objects sometimes confused magic with sex; sometimes they were the same thing. If they ever got out of this mess, it was a concept that required extra thought. And further experimentation.
But despite the crater and the hole, the wall was still solid. It was three feet thick.
