Page 128 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
And she keeps going. “Jacob, gather the Healers and help where it’s needed. I don’t see a lot of injuries, but I think the number is going to climb. We know she likes a body count. Rebekah and Ellowyn, find a safe place away fromthis mess. Try to come up with spells that can do damage from a distance.”
“Potions are poison if used properly, and I know just the thing,” Ellowyn says with a grim kind of glee.
“Georgie, you and I are going to get down to Carol.” She studies me, then looks out over the destruction of her wedding. Stillin her white dress, though while we stand there, she divests herself of the veil. “I think I should have a sword too. Afterall, I am the Confluence Warrior.”
I try to hand her mine, but she shakes her head. She reaches up, pulls down a light from the sky. Like she’s done this a milliontimes before, when I know she hasn’t. When I know the last time she wielded this sword was earlier this year, and it was Jacob’sfirst.
But that’s more sword-wielding than I’ve done.
Now we stand, hip to hip, with our swords before us like we’ve spent lifetimes wielding them with ease.
In front of us is what I can only call a black magic tornado.
And we see tornadoes in Missouri, but I have never wanted to hide from one of them.
This is much bigger, much blacker, like a swirlingwrongnessthatwantsto eat us all whole.
Behind it stands Carol, cackling like the twisted lunatic I’ve always thought she was while her giant zombie swipes its limbsabout, throwing witches every which way. Like they’re nothing more than broken bits of confetti.
It’s sickening.
Zander and Frost are working to funnel people into the alleys and away from the main fray. They’re getting some people out,but it requires a lot of magic and effort to block Carol and her zombie’s attacks.
“We have to get through that tornado,” Emerson says.
I look at it dubiously, but when Emerson charges forward, striking her sword directly into the swirl of evil, I move with her. I hack and cut away at it and the little tendrils of blackmagic that slither between the bricks at our feet, through the gathering snow, and up around our ankles.
When I look up again, I see Emerson’s sword has somehowmeltedin the black magic tornado.
“That is... not good,” she says grimly.
Then she grabs me, and we’re flinging ourselves back. Away from that terrible, dark spiral.
But if the swords can’t stop it, what can?
I look around again. Zander and Frost are still helping people. Jacob is healing folks as fast as he can. Rebekah and Ellowynare hurling magic and what looks like various potions at Carol and the zombie from a spot on the roof of the bookstore, butit’s barely penetrating.
“If we expend all this energy protecting people, we aren’t going to have enough to stop it,” I tell Emerson. “We need everyone.”
We need unity, I think. We need more thanwitches.
A screaming missile of oily residue flings itself at us. I hold up my sword and throw out magic, and Emerson does the same,but it keeps coming—
Until Azrael swoops in front of us, blasting fire from his mouth and stopping it in its tracks. It falls to the ground witha nauseating splash.
He roars out his triumph and hovers in the air near us.
“Thanks,” Emerson offers. “I don’t suppose you can melt them all?”
“I would if I could.”
“Could you try?” And she sounds a little lessupbeatthan usual, so I know she’s scared.
Emerson scared makes me...terrified.
It’s like Azrael feels the shift in me. He looks down at us, at me, his gaze a blaze of gold. “I have an idea,” he mutters.
“All ideas are welcome,” Emerson says.
