Devil's Frost, Spellspinners Series #3 (The Spellspinners of Melas County) (3 page)

“Of course I care about him,” I declared. Next to Iris and Daisy, I cared about Logan more than anyone. “But he doesn’t need any further medical intervention.”

“Tread carefully. Your caring? Your getting involved? That, my darling, is treason.”

Though my heart wanted me to yell out something like, “You can’t keep us apart! I love him!” I knew that would only fuel Jacob’s fire. He needed the last word, and so, knowing I wasn’t going to win this round, I wrapped my hand tightly around my amulet for strength of spirit and reluctantly kept my mouth shut. Gazing sidelong at Jacob, I grimaced as he grinned in victory, raised his arm above his head, and snapped his fingers. A group of young hooded wizards I didn’t recognize scooped Logan up and hauled him away, Jacob following behind.

I forced myself to stay still and not run after them. What had Jacob said? Treason. He was evil, but what he said was technically true. Witches and warlocks were forbidden from communicating outside the Stones, yet that’s exactly what Logan and I had done. And because of our relationship, our single amulets had conjoined, and now every Spellspinner in Melas County wanted it.

Yet, during the entire conversation I’d just had with Jacob, he’d done nothing to try to get it from me. What was he waiting for?

My allies were all down or gone. The rest of the crowd had dissipated, too, either following the Congression, Camellia and Iris, or Jacob and his warlocks, or simply getting back into their cars and heading home. The show was over. It was one for the record books, but it was over.

I was alone in the center of the circle, ominous clouds swimming overhead my only company. I scooped up a handful of dirt, moist and red from Logan’s and Orchid’s blood. I felt helpless and guilty and angry. Angry that everything had gone so horribly wrong, that I was betrayed so deeply by my best friend, that Logan’s magic was drained and he was sick, that I was alone.

Then a tall shadow spread darkness over the red dirt in front of me.

At first I thought Jacob was back for what he had inexplicably forgotten to go after just now. I clutched the amulet, rising to my feet to defend it with every morsel of magic I had left. But it wasn’t Jacob standing behind me. It was Logan’s best friend, Chance.

Unusually amiable with an easy smile, Chance had a huge frame and a kind spirit, which made Logan refer to him as a gentle giant. Chance had been raised in New Orleans and descended from a long line of
voudon
priests, who originated in Africa. His accent was French Cajun, and his dark skin contrasted his amber eyes. His exotic ink, ripped muscles, and short, beaded dreadlocks made him look like a supernatural rock star. Only his infectious laugh took the edge off his intimidation factor. But he wasn’t looking mild tonight. He looked pissed. And rightly so after what Orchid had done. My stomach lurched.

“Jacob just hauled Logan to the infirmary,” I said to him. “And he wouldn’t let me go. What goes on in there anyway? Something about a N’anga?”

“Give me the stone.”

His voice was methodical. Programmed. As if I hadn’t spoken to him at all. I tightened my grip on the conjoined amulet while Chance stared at me with wicked, focused eyes, eyes that were flashing gold.

“Chance?”

“Give. Me. The. Stone.”

Oh, crap.

I knew what was happening: Jacob had cast a spell on him. Logan had worried that Jacob would try this again; Logan had almost killed Chance once, while under a similar spell. Jacob liked to try to get his warlocks to do horrible things against their will, breaking the rules of the Solstice Stones, of the Congression.

It looked like Logan’s worry might have come true. It was like the Chance I knew, Logan’s best friend, the guy who’d helped us so much, had been replaced by this…
zombie
. Under this spell, who knew what Chance was capable of? I took a step back.

“Give. Me. The. Stone.”

“Stay back.”

Underneath my feet, the ground began to shake.

Chance started toward me. With each heavy-booted footprint, the earth trembled. The amulet in my palm began to burn, like it had that day on Black Mountain when I first met Logan.

The clouds shifted. Darkened.

Rain fell again, first soft and wet, then hard balls of ice. Hail, a weather phenomenon as rare as snow in coastal California. Hail in June. Like we needed any more suspicion about witchcraft in Melas County. But I had bigger fish to fry, particularly this warlock/monster/zombie dude who was out for blood. I held out my amulet, stopping his progression forward.

“Give. Me. The. Stone.”

“For the love of the Seven Sisters, do not unsheathe your sword. And…you unsheathed your sword.”

Crap. Blade flying, he stormed at me, swiping invisible enemies, eyes like a serpent, all instinct, no conscience. Somersaulting, I avoided a sharp blow to the back. His look tried to pin me down, two hard stones. Cold and merciless. I blinked, willed myself to look away, and leapt into the air.

Wind whipped through the trees and into the circle as our swords clashed, the incoming storm ripping my hair loose from its braid. It flew across my face, warping my vision. The warlock saw the opportunity and swooped, jamming the flat of his sword against my chest, barreling me into the tallest stone in the ring. I was trapped under his weight, and when the warlock’s eyes dug into mine, I knew he wouldn’t give up until he’d won. Like Orchid with Logan, he was on a mission. He would fight until he destroyed me.

Pointed metal ripped into my skin, piercing my flesh until it bled. His suffocating weight left me no choice. So much of my magic was in Logan. I needed help. The fingers of my free hand dug through the rips in my pants. With only seconds of breath left in my lungs, I unsheathed the hidden dagger secured to my inner thigh. The metal scratched my skin as I whipped it into the air. Electricity bolted across the sky, honing in on my weapon. The lightning dove through the sharp tip and into my quivering body.

Enough.

One electrified kick sent the warlock sprawling across the dirt. I aimed my glowing dagger at his chest. “Chance, stop!”

He got up and came at me again.

His pant was more beast than human. Fast and heaving. The unsettling mask on his face more monster than man.

Lunging forward, Chance tried to rip the amulet’s chain from my fist. I flipped back and aimed a bolt of magic from my glowing dagger so hard, it sent me flying into the dirt, and Chance, who must weigh at least two hundred pounds, smack into a standing stone.

I could hear the impact of his head smashing into the rock. There was such force in the blow, the stone wavered. If it fell, it would crush his crumpled body.

The ring of stones was now a graveyard of sparks and blood. I watched, horrified, as Chance’s eyes changed from cerulean, back to amber, and then, just like Orchid’s had, dimpled white, like shoddily shelled hard-boiled eggs that rolled back into his skull as he fell.

Dropping the dagger to the ground, I tucked the amulet into my pocket and scrambled to my feet, intending to help Chance. But when I stood, the ground shook again, and the stone Chance rested against began to waver again—and this time, it was definitely going to fall. My only choice was to try to hold it upright with one hand while shoving Chance’s limp body out of the way with the other.

I tried. Believe me, I tried. But I had used up too much magic. The stone was too heavy. And the more it wobbled, the less time I had to save Chance.

“Help me!” I cried out. But there was no one there. Iris was gone. Orchid was with the Congression. Logan was undergoing who knows what in the infirmary.

Ducking under the giant stone, I let the weight of it crush my shoulders. Kicking at Chance’s limp body, I finally moved him out of the way.

Under me, the ground quaked harder.

The pressure of the stone dug into my shoulders.

I couldn’t last that much longer.

Head pounding, I shifted my weight slightly to the side. If I could just roll out…

No. Burning—rock into skin. Above me, thunder cracked in the sky. Hail and rain poured onto my bare ankles sticking out from under the rock. Cold. Numb. Pain.

Help me.

Two little words that came from a place I didn’t recognize. Willing someone—anyone—to come to my aid.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take the weight anymore, that I would be crushed under a stone meant for my warlock enemy, I heard a familiar accented voice. “You look like you could use a hand.”

Tilting my head to the right, I met piercing blue eyes and an outstretched hand. Light hair, wet with sweat and rain, angled over lively eyes and model-perfect features. His reaching arm, tanned and toned and rippling with the veins of an athlete, like the rest of his polo-player-esque body, beckoned for me to play the damsel in distress and let him rescue me.

I sighed with irritated relief. “Jude.” Of all warlocks. I hated him. Hated him to his core. And now I needed him.

“Take my hand.”

“So you can take my amulet and give it to Jacob? No, thanks. I’d rather this rock crush it—and me.”

Hand outstretched, hair slick with rain, Jude yelled through the storm, “Take my hand. We got the rock; you roll out from under it.”

Then I realized the crushing weight on my back was lessening and that there was somebody else here—Jude wasn’t alone. Through the space between the Stones, I saw Jacob’s gnarled hand pointing toward me. His magic was relieving the pressure of the rock.

“Save the drama for the schoolyard, Lily. The old man can only hold the rock for a moment,” Jude explained in a calm voice. “On my count. One, two…”

In a quick motion, I sprang for Jude’s hand and rolled into his arms. The force caused us to fall together. At the same time, the giant rock pounded to the ground. The earth began to roll. Not tremor, not quake, but
roll,
the way a blanket snapped into the air to shake out the dust did: it rolled like a dragon’s tongue. Jude clutched my hand tightly. “Run!” he shouted, pulling us both to our feet. This time I didn’t argue. We ran out of the circle, out of the Stones of chaos, away from the screaming and the thunder and the rain.

I stopped short when we’d reached the edge of the woods and the ground had grown still.

“Chance,” I said. “I have to go back and try to revive him.”

“Jacob will take care of him. You don’t want to go back there.”

“He’s Logan’s best friend. I have to see if he’s alive or…”

I couldn’t say the word out loud.

Jude grabbed my forearm and said intently, “Trust that Jacob will take care of him—”

“I have an idea. Give me a minute, Jude. One minute.” He nodded and released my arm.

I took a deep breath and went inward. Using my magic, I focused on Chance, running my mind up and down his body like a mental MRI machine. Wincing, I felt a train wreck of battered, broken bones and organs—and worse, no pulse.

“How bad?” Jude asked.

“Bad,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“I figured as much. Once the others see his condition, they’ll be on the hunt for who did this to him. And, Lily”—he looked me straight in the eye—“Jacob sent Chance to get your amulet.”

“You know that for sure? He’d have to admit he sent Chance after me! But he just helped you save my life! Why would he—?”

“—admit he did anything wrong?”

“Any of it. It doesn’t make sense.”

Jude looked at me like I was incredibly naive. “We’re dealing with Jacob here. You think he’s going to ever fess up before Congression about any of that? It will be his word against yours.”

It was a long shot, but it was all I had. “And yours, Jude. Your word.”

Jude frowned. “Go up against Jacob on this? No. No way.”

He was manipulating me in some way. Something wasn’t right.

“If you won’t stick up for me, then why are you helping me now?”

Sizing me up, he narrowed his eyes. “I have my reasons. And, Lily, hate me all you want. I can’t help you when it comes to Jacob or Congression, but I can help you escape the Stones, help you hide for now. Trust me that we have to go.”

The last thing I wanted to do was be dragged before the Congression, accuse Jacob of hexing Chance and sending him after me. If Jude wasn’t willing to stand up for me and defend my accusations, then I was on my own. My version of what happened made sense, but no one in the Congression would ever be convinced that Jacob could mastermind this elaborate scheme.

So I did the only thing I could in the moment: I trusted my enemy. The boy who had haunted my dreams, manipulated me into kissing him, and who I suspected was more involved with the chaos in the Stones than he’d admit. Using Jude as my getaway vehicle, I followed him through the forest at breakneck speed, hoping to get home to my mother, who would know how to advise me.

My feet pounded against the dirt, leaping over rocks like my life depended on it—and it did. Drenched in sunlight and fog, the forest was largely untouched by the magical storm of the Gleaning. As we neared a trickling creek, we slowed to a jog, then a walk. We didn’t speak and, carefully avoiding the cramps that came from stopping short, we collapsed next to the water: Jude on a moss-covered log and me in a patch of sunlight across from him. We sat quietly catching our breath, then, leaning over the creek, I pooled water in cupped hands, spun a cleansing spell, and drank it.

“Are you going to clean mine as well? I can’t imagine Montezuma’s Revenge would be the greatest idea right now.”

“Sure. Why not? You did just save my life.”

He leaned closer to me than he needed to. His bent knees grazed mine as we squatted on the creek bed’s edge. Water dripped from my lips, and I wiped it off with my sleeve, backing away from his touch. After briefly meeting my eye, he splashed water on his face. In the sunlight, the droplets and his features were all angles and mischievous light.

I pretended to spin the spell. But I didn’t clean his water.

Leave it up to the bacteria if they wanted to eat at his insides or not.

After he drank a healthy amount, he said, “So, tell me the truth. After using up so much magic to heal Logan and Orchid, and then defending yourself against Chance, how are you able to cast a cleansing spell?”