Wandfasted. Laurie Forest

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СКАЧАТЬ underlings, his eyes trained on me with careful calculation.

      They’re waiting. Waiting for my strength to give out.

      “Hurry!” I call over my shoulder to the young women, desperation on the edge of panic coursing through me.

      But the barn door is refusing to give way.

      The hateful Upper River girl lets out an angry snarl and kicks the door in frustration. “Check the back,” she yells to the other young women. “Search for rotted wood.” She calls to the Gardnerians inside for help breaking open a passage, and they shout back to her, their voices muffled by the barn’s walls. A cacophony of hammering and pounding against the barn ensues.

      Smoke rises thick in the air, my fire still crackling in the surrounding woods. Soldiers watch me with dark intent and even darker smiles.

      My heart thuds with a painful slowness, my pulse loud in my ears, the power a steady stream through me, flowing up from the ground. I concentrate hard and weave the shield even tighter, sending the power upward, the tips of my fingers growing numb, my arms trembling.

      A gentle hand flows down over my arm and grasps my wrist to steady me. Jules pushes himself tight against my back, propping me up.

      “What are you planning?” His voice is calm, the words muffled by the swelling of his mouth.

      His presence helps to soothe the fear that’s making a slow crawl through my belly. “I can move the shield,” I tell him, my throat tight. “We get everyone out, and we leave.”

      “How long can you maintain it?” His voice is purposefully measured.

      “I... I don’t know,” I admit, terror breaking through.

      He gives my wrist an encouraging squeeze, his cheek pressed to mine. “I love you, Tessla.” He says it with ardent certainty.

      We’re going to die, I realize.

      “I love you, too,” I tell him, knowing we don’t mean this in the same way, but what does that matter now? We might all be dead soon, and Jules is nearly as dear to me as Wren.

      Exhaling sharply, I murmur a spell and push a warm wave of magic out to bolster the shield, my teeth and the muscles of my neck clenched tight.

      “Fight them,” he tells me, his breath warm on my face. “Fight them to the end.”

      Rosebeth rushes over to my side. “We can’t get the door open,” she relays with breathless urgency. “But they’ve managed to pull a board off the back of the barn. They’re all back there, prying at it.”

      “Hurry,” I tell her grimly, my feet tingling, my toes gone numb, the numbness in the tips of my fingers starting to spread.

      “Are you tiring, little witch?” the Icaral demon calls to me with a sneer, his glowing eyes hot, an evil smile curling on his mouth. His voice is like a snake’s hiss as he stalks around my shield. He unfurls his black wings and starts to summon another ball of flame, the fire-orb churning and growing over his palm.

      The huge ax-paladin is pacing like a giant wildcat in front of me, scarlet burns streaked across his face, charred black lines across his uniform. “You will tire eventually, Roach,” he snarls, “and then we will break through your shield and take you apart, piece by piece.”

      “Don’t listen to them,” Jules urges, tightening his grip on my wrist. “Listen to me. You can hold the shield. I know you can.”

      Somewhere behind me, my brother and grandfather are waiting to escape from the barn.

      Wren. I can’t let them have Wren.

      “Your strength will run out at some point, witch,” the Icaral crows darkly, his fireball grown large, his wings fanning out. He rears back and throws the fireball straight at me, punching the shield’s side with a shower of sparks. The shield gives way, pushing in and snapping back out. Tearing.

      A hole!

      The hole whips around the shield-dome like a leaf caught on a turbulent river, small, but there.

      I can’t feel my lower legs.

      Soldiers call out and point at the hole in the shield as it swirls around the changeable vortex of the dome’s surface. They send up a triumphant cheer.

      The ax-paladin strides toward me, his muscles rippling, his burned face as close as he can get it without touching the scorching shield, teeth bared. “I will pull your people out one by one and flay them in front of you.”

      The other soldiers are scrambling about, yelling to each other. I realize they’re inexplicably moving back, giving the shield a wide berth. The ax-paladin grins at something over my head and lumbers backward, as well.

      “Why are they retreating?” I croak out to Jules, desperation clawing at me.

      I feel his head tilt up, his hand going tight over mine.

      An unearthly shriek tears through the sky above, and I look up to see a massive dragon flying in impossibly fast.

      Hurtling straight for my shield.

       Chapter 5: Wandshield

      The dragon crashes into my glowing shield, claws out, a Keltic soldier astride its back, and I gasp as the shield buckles toward me, stopping just a hand span from my face. I struggle to hold on to it, but the force of the attack reverberates with crippling pain around my shoulders.

      The muscular animal slides to the ground, landing on its haunches with a heavy thump. The creature sets its soulless white eyes on me, growling as it backs up, then throws its full weight at the shield again.

      I grit my teeth and grasp the wand more firmly in my hands, wrenching magic up from the ground. My lungs are close to bursting, and my ribs are on fire as I struggle to repel the dragon’s strength. I’m hunkered down, breathing hard, the magic shooting through me in a fiery line.

      “I can’t hold it much longer,” I force out to Jules, teeth clenched, despair taking hold. “I’m sorry, Jules. I can’t.”

      Jules’s hand tightens around my wrist again, offering support. “You can. I know you can.”

      The Icaral, dark wings flapping, hurls a fireball at me. It smashes against the shield to my right. The impact throws me back against Jules and jars my wrists to the bones, the shield nearly collapsing from the concussive blow. The glowing bubble springs back into place, but I can sense a weak spot where the fireball hit, and flames cling to the shield’s surface in a blazing circle that moves around the dome in chaotic arcs, joining the hole made by the Icaral’s fire.

      “She’s weakening,” Lucian observes dispassionately to the strafeling. The dragon releases a grating shriek that scrapes painfully inside my head. The creature rises up and swipes its claws at the shield, the soldier astride it pulling the reins in tight. A great ripping sound, like canvas tearing, rends the air as the dragon hooks its claws into the shield and mauls it, creating three gaping slashes.

      Hooks of magic СКАЧАТЬ