“This is Rowan’s army?” the creature rumbled. Within Augur’s eyes, light pulsed with quickening life as he hefted the massive hammer. “I am far greater than you, little whelp. As this child are you to me. Older magic and deeper purpose course through Marley Augur—”
Max Amplified just as the hammer came crashing down. It pulverized the stone tiles where Max had been standing while he sprang away to the alcove where the children stood cocooned in their black shrouds. Augur’s hammer swung over him, sending up a shower of sparks as it collided with the pillar, which cracked and groaned from the impact.
In a flash, not one Ronin but three circled around Augur in a whirl of knives, feinting and attacking. The blacksmith swung his hammer in mad pursuit, shattering wood and stone and glass in a terrifying frenzy. The walls of the crypt shook with great flashes as though in the midst of a thunderstorm.
Max tore the black shrouds away from the children who were conscious and shoved them in the direction of the stairs, screaming at them to come to their senses and hurry. They staggered away in confused groups of two and three, hugging the walls and shuffling toward the cool daylight above.
By the time all the shrouds had been thrown aside, there were still a dozen children left in the alcove, their heads hanging in slumber. Max began trembling as his body absorbed more energy from the fight around him. Hoisting a child onto each shoulder, he dashed across the floor, over Peg, and up the steps, where he tipped them onto the wet grass. Diving back into the crypt, Max froze in horror as he saw Augur’s hammer crash down onto Ronin’s head. But the hammer only slammed into the floor as Ronin’s decoy dissipated and promptly reformed as though made of magnetized smoke.
The real Ronin had maneuvered behind Augur. He raised a double-barreled shotgun from the folds of his overcoat. The blast echoed in the chamber with a great metallic twang.
Augur buckled and stumbled forward, but nothing more. Ronin was forced to leap back as the hammer swung around to crumple the shotgun’s barrel.
By the time Max had spilled the last two children onto the grass, the chamber had begun to collapse. A flash of light erupted from the doorway, and he heard Ronin curse. Max yelled at the conscious children to pull the others back and dashed again into the crypt.
Ronin swayed near the pillar. The false images had disappeared, and he was without a weapon.
“Ronin!” Max screamed, running down to him.
“One more, Max. Get him and go!” Ronin gasped, hugging the pillar and staggering around it as Augur advanced toward him, stepping over a shattered table.
Max looked at Alex slumped in the chair; just beyond, Astaroth’s eyes watched Max intently.
“What about the painting?” Max yelled.
“Get the boy and go!” Ronin bellowed. “Keep them away from the stairs! Augur can’t go aboveground!”
Ronin ducked under a hammer blow that tore a jagged chunk out of the pillar. Reaching into his coat, Ronin flipped what looked to be a dull metal hockey puck into the center of the chamber before dodging another murderous hammer swing.
Max ran down to Alex, tossed him over his shoulder, and glanced at the painting.
Astaroth smiled at him.
As Max wheeled to run for the stairs, something tripped him. He dropped Alex and fell to the floor. Peg was at his feet. Gasping for breath, she pulled herself up to Max’s face. Her features alternated between the slavering monster and the wild-eyed woman who had pursued him in Chicago.
“You’re coming with me,” she gurgled. “Down, down with Peg into the darkness.”
Max stretched his neck away from the searching talons and focused on his uninjured right hand; he felt searing blue flame ignite and writhe around it. Clapping his hand on her face, he shut his eyes through a sudden gasp and horrible smell. Slowly, the vye’s body stiffened and rolled away, its face a smoldering ruin of fur and flesh.
Max got to his feet, then grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged him toward the stairs. Ronin limped after them, but Augur let loose a terrifying howl and swung his hammer. It caught Ronin squarely in his back with a sickening sound.
Ronin tumbled across the chamber and landed in a mangled heap by the stairs. He did not move.
“Stay where you are!” bellowed Augur, stabbing a bony finger at Max.
“They’re all outside!” Max cried out, locking eyes with Augur while feeling for Ronin’s hand. “You can’t get them!”
“It matters not,” said Augur, lowering his hammer and walking slowly across the room. “Astaroth is awakened, and we still have you. Your worth is far greater than those little souls.”
Max tried to Amplify, but he was spent. Gritting his teeth, he struggled furiously to drag Ronin and Alex up the stairs. His arm was bleeding badly and it throbbed; Ronin was so heavy. Suddenly, three clear beeps sounded in the chamber. Ronin squeezed Max’s hand very hard.
“Go,” Ronin whispered.
Gripping Ronin’s hand tighter, Max heaved himself backward just as the metal puck exploded.
Max had a sensation of floating. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears, but the fog felt very cool and soothing on his face. He lay still, breathing deeply. To his surprise, he realized that there was still a hand clasped in each of his. He glanced down from where he lay against the top stair. Half-submerged in a chalky soup of stone and soil were Ronin and Alex. Alex was unconscious; Ronin’s eyelids fluttered as he stared blankly up.
“I’m broken,” he murmured. “My legs—”
“Shhh,” whispered Max, letting go of Alex and gripping Ronin’s wrist with both hands. Ignoring Ronin’s sharp, sudden intakes of breath, Max pulled him from the rubble to lie on the pearly grass.
Max staggered back to Alex and took hold of his wrist. Suddenly, Max heard something deep within the earth that made him gasp and let go.
A muffled cry of rage and despair shook the ground.
With a gathering trickle of pebbles and masonry, Alex began to sink. Panicked, Max seized his hand and strained with all his might. It was no use. Something far stronger than Max McDaniels had hold of Alex and was pulling him slowly, inexorably, back into the tomb. Despite Max’s gasps and pleas, Alex was wrenched from his grasp and swallowed by the earth.
The shivering children had gathered around Ronin. He was blinking and looking up at the sky, very calm and pale. Making his way through the other children, Max knelt down and took his hand.
“You’re always saving me,” Max whispered.
“You’re worth saving.” Ronin smiled. His green eye was tired but very bright as it blinked at Max. The prescient eye was going dark, its milky whites fading to dead gray.
“We have to get you to a hospital.”
Ronin shook his head and smiled, squeezing Max’s hand.
“Pocket…,” he gasped, closing his eyes.
Deep within his coat, Max found what Ronin had intended. It was a security watch. Max pressed its face as hard as he could again and again until a message suddenly flashed on its small screen.
COMING. ETA 27 MIN.
Max fought off his exhaustion and cradled Ronin’s head to his chest, rocking back and forth as his mother had done with him long ago. The other children sat around them silently, gaunt little ghosts staring mutely into the fog. When the Agents arrived, he thought they must be angels.
20
FATHER AND SON
Max awoke to the smell of something roasting, something delicious. A breeze of lilac skimmed across his cheek from a nearby window, and he stirred in a bed of smooth sheets. His forearm ached. He touched it and found it was wrapped in thin layers of a spongy material. Max slid upright, resting his back against the headboard. It was twilight, and the room was in shadow: deep purples and blues except for a sliver of yellow light under the door.
Walking slowly out the door and into a hallway, Max heard a chorus of laughter. He steadied himself against the wall with his bandaged hand, ignoring the buzzing in his head and stumbling forward.
A number of adults were having dinner around a large table. A dark-haired woman saw him first, glimpsing him in the doorway during a sip of wine.
“Well, hello there,” she cooed, as though to a lost puppy.