Bran Hambric: The Farfield Curse (36 page)

I’ll never complain about Sewey’s driving again,
he breathed to himself, his palms becoming sweaty as he gripped the steering wheel. The van gave a lurch as he ran onto the curb, but he held on as tight as he could. He slammed into some boxes on the edge of the street, sending them flying as he sped past, and Astara turned and looked out the back window.

"They’re gaining on us, Bran!" she yelled over the engine.

Bran tightened his teeth together. "I have
no
idea what I’m doing," he muttered to himself, pressing on the gas again. He saw a turn and took it. There were tall buildings all around, cars parked on the side of the road.

Great,
Bran thought.
Obstacles.

He didn’t dare slow down but tried to navigate between the cars on the side of the road. He saw a glimpse of something in his rearview mirror, but he knew that he didn’t have time to hesitate for a second or they would be lost. He swerved to miss another car and turned a corner.

"Do you have any idea where to stop?" Astara asked him. "They’re gaining on us big time!"

Bran glanced at the rearview mirror again. The van seemed to be right up next to them. He winced. They were pulling up next to them, slowly but surely.

"The moment we stop they’ve got us," Bran said. Suddenly, there was an enormous clash behind them, and the steering wheel was nearly pulled from his hand. He felt an impact in the back of the van and nearly lost control.

"They’re running into the side of us!" Astara yelled. There was a sudden gunshot, and the taillight of the van exploded, glass going everywhere across the street. Bran felt the van collide with them again, pushing them farther against the side of the road. He pulled the steering wheel, fighting back, and he felt them hit again. He sped faster, moving in front, and suddenly the van behind them swerved to the left and off onto a side street, out of view.

"We lost them!" Bran shouted, excitement rushing up over him. He checked every mirror—they were gone. He let off the gas pedal and looked over his shoulder, still trying to slow the van.

"They’re going to catch up with us ahead," Astara said quickly, turning around to face the front. Her voice was low. Bran glanced in her direction.

"Quick, turn off onto this street," she said quickly. Bran eased into the turn.

"And your turn signal’s on," she whispered. Bran glanced at the levers and hit one of them, and the clicking noise stopped.

"Thanks," Bran said, searching the roadway ahead. He entered onto a street with a few cars, pressing on the brake so he wouldn’t attract any attention. He was coming up to an intersection and immediately recognized where he was.

"The bank is right up here," he said aloud. "We’ll drop the van off at the corner, I’ll call Sewey and get the police over here."

"But we’ll both go to jail!" Astara protested, turning toward him. "If they find out we’re mages, we’re done for!"

"No,
you
won’t be," Bran said. "You’re going back and acting like this never happened."

"What?" Astara said. "I can’t just go back to the bookstore. What if they follow me there?"

"Where else are you supposed to go?" Bran said, gripping the wheel as he came to a crossing.

All of a sudden, there was a screech of tires to Bran’s left. He turned, but it was too late, as the second black van came lurching out from the darkness of the intersection and slammed into the side of them full force.

Bran’s neck was snapped around, and he felt a jolt of pain go through his shoulders. Suddenly, the world around him began to spin. The van went flying through the air before it slammed into something: a light post on the street corner. He heard Astara scream, and then the engine of the van give a loud burst and died out.

He shouted, but in a split second it was over, and he was no longer on the road, the van having skidded to the side with the impact. The hit had been light but Bran was in pain, and the inside of the van was immediately engulfed in darkness.

"Astara!" Bran shouted. She grabbed his hand and he saw her there—she was all right.

"Quick, get out!" he yelled, and she kicked her door open and fell onto the sidewalk, pulling him with her. Bran scraped his elbows against the concrete as he fell. The area was bathed in the brightness from the second van’s headlights. He heard the men shouting and jumping out but didn’t waste a second, pulling Astara to her feet and running from the crash.

A bullet burst against a building next to Bran, spraying pieces of brick. They were on Third Street. The place was cold and abandoned, and the businesses weren’t even open yet. Bran heard more shouting behind him, and jerked Astara across the street. He was running as fast as he could, the men coming around the van. He was nearly out of breath, his lungs pounding. The door to the bank was getting closer with each step, and he dove toward it.

"Hurry!" he shouted, grabbing the handle. He didn’t even think if it might be locked before he was slamming into it, and both he and Astara fell through the door. He slammed it shut behind him, turning both locks as quickly as he could. Instantly the sounds of the street outside were drowned out. He bent over, gasping for air.

"We’re safe," he said between breaths. But then he heard a sound.

It was a gasp, from across the room. His heart almost stopped.

He looked up, and there was Adi, standing behind the desk, pale and lit by a single lamp. She was staring at them, her face filled with shock.

"Bran?" she gasped. He only stared back, feeling the blood run from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

"What’s happened?" Adi gasped, but the moment the words left her mouth, the entire front of the bank exploded.

Chapter 30

Fire and Books

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Bran could feel the flame coming at his back; he could see it reflected in Adi’s eyes. He could sense it behind him, and in a split second, as the bricks and wood and metal blew inward toward him, he leapt to the side, hitting Astara, both of them falling to the ground.

He heard it going over him, rushing like a train over his head. He could feel the dust; he saw Adi falling. He saw the windows blown away as the front wall of the building on both sides of the doors exploded into flames, and behind the explosion, he could see the shadows of two men, stepping toward the openings they had just created.

Before Bran could react, he felt rough arms seize hold of him, slamming him against the wall. Astara was pushed next to him, then Adi, all three of them lined up.

Joris held Bran, pressing his lips against his ear. "Thought you could get away, did you?"

He tightened his fingers around Bran’s arms, like claws that threatened to tear his flesh. "No one escapes: not your mother, not Clarence, and not you either."

"But I’m the one you need alive," Bran said through clenched teeth.

"We’ll see how close we can get with you as well," Joris said. He turned to Craig and Marcus, holding Adi and Astara against the wall with their pistols drawn.

"We’re going back to the bookstore, across the street," he hissed. "There’ll be police crawling all over this bank in five minutes."

Bran was pushed toward the doors. The doorway was there, its frame still intact, but on both sides, where the windows had once been, there was nothing but bent pieces of the frame of the building, parts still smoldering from the fire. Bricks hung loosely at the sides, glass broken in everywhere, and dust and shrapnel thrown through the walls and onto the sidewalk. Both sides were left to nothing but gaping holes. Adi coughed as Craig wrenched her around to follow.

"Wait, please," she said. "If you want the bank’s money, I’ll get it for you."

"I’m afraid you’re mistaken," Joris hissed. "I don’t need more money. I need this boy."

Suddenly, Adi jumped away from Craig, jerking something out before they could react. She held it out in front of her, brandishing it, and Bran saw that it was her wand. But in the same instant, before she could even call a single magic, both of the bald men reacted, their wands out and leveled with her. It caught her by surprise, and she froze. Joris jerked Bran closer.

"What is this?" he hissed at her. Adi’s eyes were wide, her wand shaking. "You drop that or they’ll kill you, mage," Joris said through clenched teeth.

Adi hesitated, looking at Bran, and what she held in her eyes

made his heart wish he was anywhere else but there. She was

terrified for her life.

"Put it down, Adi," Bran finally said. "He’s right."

She swallowed hard, debating, but finally she dropped the wand. Instantly, Joris took it.

"Put her in magecuffs," he ordered Craig. "That will keep her silent until we get across."

Adi didn’t fight them, even as Craig slid the handcuffs over her wrist. He spun a dial on them, and she didn’t make a sound, but in a second, all strength seemed to fade from her face. She stumbled, unable to stand, and Craig caught her, holding her tightly as they stepped out.

They crossed the street, but there were no cars. Part of Bran wished the police would show up or someone would see, but he knew none of the shops were open that early and the police wouldn’t arrive in time. They were pushed down the alley until they reached the bookstore. The door opened when Joris pushed on it. Bran guessed it was still unlocked from when the men had kidnapped Astara.

There was a small lamp in the middle of the floor, which Joris turned on, and it cast light in a circle about them. Bran was forced to stand, and Astara was shoved across from him. Craig pushed Adi into a chair and wound the handcuffs around it so she couldn’t move. The others stood guard with guns and wands, keeping them from any method of escape.

Joris spun to Bran and held his hand out. Bran stood there, not sure what to do. Joris insisted.

"Come on, you’re here now," he said. "Hand me the phone."

Bran reached in his pocket and fumbled with it, holding it out. Joris smiled and reached to take it, but with a sudden spin of motion, he grabbed Bran’s wrist and jerked him forward. Bran was pulled from his feet, his arm was twisted behind his back, pain shooting through his nerves like a thousand needles puncturing him at once.

Joris pushed him forward, throwing him to the floor against a crate. Bran didn’t have a chance to catch his balance before his face hit the floor, his arm scraping against the side of a box. He coughed and hit his head, and he felt blood running from his nose. He spun around, trying to stand but falling against the stack of crates. He touched his face and got blood on his fingers.

"So we’re all here now, aren’t we?" Joris said. The lamplight threw shadows under his eyes. "We are all gathered here today," Joris began, "because one boy decided to cause trouble."

"Just take me and let them go," Bran said. "You have what you want with me."

Joris turned to him. "These two have caused enough trouble for me already." He looked at Astara. "You with your knowledge—" He turned to Adi. "—and you for having this wand. I don’t like mages getting involved in things. It gets complicated."

"Listen," Adi said, her voice weak. "Neither of these children have done anything wrong. If you want a mage, I’m the one you need."

"Oh, no," Joris said. "It is him that we need." He pointed the wand at Bran. "That’s the boy who is behind all of this."

"But why do you need him?" Adi asked, her words almost slurring in weakness. Bran looked down, not meeting Joris’s eyes. He felt as if Adi was watching him, looking for answers.

"This boy," Joris pointed with the wand, "is Bran Hambric, surviving heir of Emry Hambric—the boy who was taken and hidden by his mother, hoping to keep him from us." He nodded. "Inside of Bran is something we need, something your MIPs could not find."

He looked at Bran. "Inside Bran is the
spirit of Baslyn.
"

Bran’s gaze met with Adi’s, but then he looked down, unable to hold it.

"You are lying," Adi said to Joris weakly. "Baslyn is dead."

"You know of Baslyn?" Joris turned to her. "Clearly more has gotten out than we thought."

"It doesn’t matter what I know," Adi replied. But Joris slowly stepped closer, until his shadow fell over her. She looked up at him weakly, unable to move as he stared down at her.

"Actually," he said in a deathly voice, "I think it means everything."

Polland jerked awake in bed, sweating. He looked about the room for intruders, his senses immediately alert.

"Who’s there?" he called, reaching into the shadows and curling his fingers around the gnarly edges of his dark, wooden wand. He drew it closer, almost the size of a small knife to him, a tiny green gem on the back end wrapped in root-like twists.
Something was not right.
He could feel it.

He climbed out of bed, taking his wand with him; he drew the tip of it closer to his lips.

"
Silmali felami iensida,
" he whispered, blowing on the end, and instantly, a small light like a candle flared up within it, illuminating the floor and the plants in a circle around him.

"Working late, is she?" he said. But it had been too long for her to be gone. Something was not right for her to have never come home—something more than what he had thought.

He went through every room in the house, shining his light into every corner. No sign of Adi. He stopped his search at the bottom of the stairs and slid to sit at the bottom. He blew on his wand again, and instantly the light went out.

"Where are you?" he asked, though he knew no answer would come. He was so worried he didn’t know what to do. Something deep inside of him felt sick, as if there was something deeply wrong going on, and Adi was at the center of it. He looked through the high windows and closed his eyes, thinking. He murmured a few prayers into the air, trying to calm his soul as he sat there, and when he had finished, he lifted his head and knew what he was supposed to do.

"Enough of this waiting," he said. "If Adi’s in trouble, I might as well get into some myself."