“Should someone call the fire department?” said Alan. “This seems dangerous.”
“Can’t you smell it?” asked Estelle. “There’s a storm coming. But for the future, we’ll need to get the fire demon an iron collar if we don’t want him lighting the whole village on fire every time he gets excited.”
Thomas eyed Alan warily. “Sorry about the punching.”
Alan held his side. “I think you broke my ribs.”
“You did some damage to my kidneys, mate.”
Tobias glanced at the sky, the stars now darkened by gathering storm clouds. Had he really just kissed Estelle? He hugged himself, waiting for the rain. He didn’t want Fiona finding out about the kiss, but had no idea why he cared. She’d hardly shown any interest in him, and then she’d taken off to join the Picaroons. Sure, saving Thomas had been a noble gesture, but couldn’t she have flown back to see them once or twice? He’d certainly flown over her ship enough to know that she was fine.
Lightning flashed, and the clouds opened up. Tobias lifted his face to the sky and closed his eyes, savoring the cool rain that drenched his skin. Estelle was directing them back to the village, but Tobias wanted to wash away the blood and filth.
When he opened his eyes, only Oswald and Thomas remained, waiting for him.
Tobias glared at his old friend. “Did you really mean what you said, about Maremount needing Rawhed?”
Oswald’s pale gaze rooted him to the spot. “For the first time in centuries, the Throcknells are languishing and the Tatters are actually fighting back. For the first time ever, someone has cut down half the royal family. In the chaos, we got the cure for the token. It’s the most important spell the Ragmen have ever had.”
“We know what the inside of their fortress looks like,” added Thomas. “And we’ve got a good chunk of their economy with the philosopher’s stone we stole.”
Tobias watched smoke rise from the trees as a hard rain doused the flaming boughs. “Are you both forgetting that Rawhed murdered Tatters as well as Throcknells? He tortured people to death.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” snapped Oswald. “But how is it different to beforetimes? I’m not saying I like the beast, but when he lit our world on fire, he burned out some of the pestilence. Someone needs to finish the job.”
Tobias clenched his fists. It could’ve happened another way.
“Forget about Rawhed.” Thomas wiped the rain off his face. “He’s gone. We’ve got an army of Throcknell soldiers coming for us, and Blodrial’s witch hunters. Maybe we can’t fight the Purgators, but the Throcknells are as weak as they’ll ever be. If you ever have a chance of getting back home, now’s the time. If the werewolves are on our side, we’ve got a small army. And they know more magic than we do.”
It made sense, but Tobias couldn’t bring himself to leave Fiona trapped in this world by herself, with no one but the Picaroons.
“We’ve got another task before we get back to Maremount.” Oswald began walking.
Tobias followed his friend. “What do you mean?”
“We need to find that loophole your friends keep jabbering about. Because after that wretched display I just saw, there’s no way you’re going to beat a hellhound in one fight, let alone hundreds.”
25
Fiona
It was still dark when someone pushed her door open, and Fiona sprang upright in her bed. She’d been dreaming of Tobias—dancing with him in a rainy forest, water dripping down their skin. Irritated at the interruption, she scowled at Lir’s enormous form hovering in the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out of bed.” His voice was still husky with sleep.
Lir was the last person she wanted to see right now. “Why? It’s still dark.”
“It’s four a.m., and this is your new wakeup time. You need extra training. We’ll be running on the shore, and then we’ll work on your weak arms. Get dressed.” He shut the door.
He certainly has a way with words. Throwing off her sheets, Fiona stepped out of bed. At least running was one of her strengths. During track season, she often put in extra miles, spending her weekends training along South Boston’s shoreline. It had been a few months since she’d run, but she knew how to pace herself and how to ignore the part of her brain telling her to stop.
After pulling off her nightdress, she searched through her clothes for something she could run in, but there wasn’t much—just dresses, leggings, and Lir’s giant shirt. Every night, she dropped the shirt into one of Valac’s charmed buckets and it came out fully cleaned, smelling faintly of vanilla.