Magic Burns

Page 141

 

 

 

The crossbow snapped up and two shafts punctured the back of the reeve’s head, the bolt heads emerging precisely through her eyes. The reeve went liquid.

 

The door leading to the tower burst open and a group of shapeshifters charged across the yard.

 

Someone screamed, “He’s got the surveys!”

 

“Got to run!” Bran waved a packet of surveys at us. “Thanks for the maps.”

 

Mist swirled and he was gone.

 

Curran roared.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 21

 

 

WHEN A LION ROARS NEXT TO YOU, AT FIRST YOUthink it’s thunder. That first sound is so deep, so frightening, it couldn’t possibly come from a living creature. It blasts your nerves, freezing you in place. All thoughts and reason flee from your mind, and you’re left as you are, a helpless pathetic creature with no claws, no teeth, and no voice.

 

The rumble dies and you think it’s over, but the roar lashes you again, like some horrible cough, once, twice, picking up speed, and finally rolling, unstoppable, deafening. You fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. You turn your head with an effort that takes every last shred of your control.

 

You see a seven-foot-tall monster. It has a lion’s head and a lion’s throat. It’s gray and furry. Dark stripes dash across its tree-trunk limbs like whip marks. Its claws could disembowel you with a mere twitch. Its eyes scald you with gold fire.

 

It shakes the ground with its roar. You smell the sharp stench of urine as smaller monsters cringe and you clamp your hands over your ears, so you don’t go deaf.

 

Finally Curran’s roar rolled to a close. Thank God. I thought of pointing out that Bran couldn’t hear him and even if he could, he probably wouldn’t faint in mortal terror, but somehow this didn’t seem to be the right moment for clever observations. The lion’s face quivered and snapped into the familiar chimera of lion and human I knew as Curran’s half-form. His voice boomed across the yard. “Search the Keep.

 

Find out how he got in and what else he took.”

 

The shapeshifters cleared with record speed, all except Jim.

 

I needed to get to Bran. Time was short, the flare was almost on us, and I wanted to find Julie and her mother before it hit full force. But there was no way I could enter the mist with the monisto in my hand.

 

Morrigan’s Hound wanted it. There was no way I could leave without it because the Fomorians wanted it, also. They would come for it.

 

What to do?

 

Jim looked at Curran. “We have bait. He likes her. He might come to visit her.”

 

Bastard. He screwed me over again and again. Why the hell was I always surprised? I looked to Curran. He was considering it; I could almost see the wheels turning under that mane. “Don’t do this. I have to find Julie. I can’t stay here waiting for that idiot to pop out of thin air.”