Forged in Fire (43 page)

They came together, she and Stuart, as the last cultist in the area fell beneath their blades. He hugged her, shaking. It had been too close for comfort, but they’d made it. At least some of them.

The rain pelted down harder, and these dead began to dissolve.

“Damn powerful singing,” Stuart said, looking at her. “Care to tell me how you pulled that off?”

“Nope,” she said, smiling at him. “Just started happening.” She staggered, and he caught her. Her face and chest were covered with blood.

“You’re wounded!” he growled.

“Nosebleed,” she said. “That’s new, too.” She leaned against him, trying to get her balance.

He helped her back to the deputy’s car and gently sat her down. “Tilt your head forward a bit and squeeze the bridge here,” he said, placing her hand on her nose.

“Yes, sir,” she mouthed. It had been pretty damn close. She’d almost collapsed. It was only adrenaline that had kept her on her feet. Too many of his crew were down. Only four others remained.

“How’s Jim?” Stuart asked.

“Saw him and Kyle shooting up the farside of the battlefield but didn’t see anyone else.”

“Jillian’s still doing good from her perch,” he said, looking around. His four were not all whole. Two were wounded. But they all were alert, keeping an eye out for bad guys.

The smaller dragon hadn’t moved in a while, not since the dome exploded. The green had turned away, taking the fight to the house.

“They’re toying with us,” he said, his voice bitter. “They’re stalling, doing something.”

“They brought in a big-ass dragon,” Katie said, smiling, her mouth and teeth limned with blood. “I figure, if it wasn’t for that second one, the one that dropped a package back by the camp, we’d all be dragon poo by now.”

Stuart grunted and stroked her hair. “Take a breather; I’ll look around.”

He stood, glanced around, and talked to each of the survivors with him.

Things are pretty damn grim
, she thought. Where the hell was Sarah?

Stuart squatted back down by Katie. “The green dragon has flamed the house and seems to be fighting something there.”

Katie thought. “Statues, maybe. There was some haunted shit in there last time I visited.”

“Great,” he said. “Maybe they’ll kill the freaking dragon before we have to get involved.”

Katie smiled, then sat up. “Wait, did you say she flamed the house?”

“Yeah,” Stuart said, standing. “Green flames, like the world’s worst Saint Patrick’s Day float.”

“Qindra’s in there,” Katie said.

“Damn it,” he grunted, looking over the hood of the car. “Really?”

Katie nodded and started to stand, pulling herself up the car.

“Here,” Stuart said, giving her a hand. “You look like hell.”

She shrugged. “Could eat a horse, but I’ll live.”

“I can help there,” he said, swinging his pack around. He pulled out an energy bar and a bottle of water. “All I got,” he said. “But you need it more than me.”

She thanked him and worked her way through both. When she dropped the water bottle into the back of the cruiser, she felt about a thousand times better.

“Guess all that special singing requires some serious fuel.”

He eyed her. “Just be careful. We need to tell Jimmy about this, you know.”

“Yeah, sure. After we get Qindra, right?”

He hesitated, debating the witch’s worth. “We’ll need light,” he said, reaching into the deputy’s car and retrieving a large flashlight. “Let’s roll, people,” he barked. “Bobby, you take Eddie and fall back. Make your way to Jillian; she’s doing pretty well from that perch.”

The two wounded guys headed off.

The air hummed with the din of battle and the booming roar of the green dragon. Spirits erupted from the grounds around the house—rolling, eating masses just like she’d battled before.

“Let’s see if I can clear us a path,” Katie said, dashing off a chord, encompassing them in a golden glow. The lyrics felt sweet on her lips.

“I’m coming for you, lover mine…” It was the song she’d sang going to rescue Sarah. It worked before.

Spirits parted before them, avoiding the golden circle that sprang up around her. “Let’s go save us a witch.”

Paul and Marla didn’t argue, just padded behind them, crossbows locked and loaded. Katie was sure they’d have followed Stuart into hell. Of course, the way the house was burning, it could be a matter of semantics.

They took the scenic route, avoiding the dragon, and swung around the south end of the place, coming by the smithy. She kept the singing to a minimum, but the spirits were coming thick and fast. With the dome down, they were stunned at first, but now it was a feeding frenzy. Luckily, the dragon and cultists appeared to be equally valid targets for their hunger.

The dragon was smashing haunted statues and ghostly critters, ignoring Katie’s small group. They fought their way across the grounds, taking down one of Anezka’s metal warriors near the carport.

“Don’t go out back,” Katie said.

Paul froze, his hand on a door to the back of the property.

“Trust me.”

He shrugged, dropped his hand to the haft of the crossbow, and stepped back from the door. Something roamed back there. They could hear it. “We going in or staying here to guard the exit?”

Stuart looked into the house. “Rearguard’s a good idea,” he said. “No heroics, though. If something big and nasty looks this way, you duck and cover.”

Marla stepped to the side of the house and rested her crossbow on a stack of overturned shelves. “I got the yard,” she said, glancing back at Paul. “You keep an eye on my six.” She leaned over the shelves and wiggled her backside.

Stuart harrumphed and shook his head.

Paul grinned at her. “Anytime.”

Katie rolled her eyes. If they weren’t already messing around with each other, that was a pretty obvious invitation. Crazy what near-death experiences did to a normally quiet person.

Stuart waved Katie to the side and kicked in the door to the kitchen. The interior of the house was full of smoke.

“I got this,” Katie said. She hunched over her guitar and began a low, thrumming speed chord. Stuart watched her, anxiously waiting for something to happen.

“We going in or what?” he asked.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, grinning. The chords got louder and faster until she straightened up and let out a wild howl.
This is getting awesome,
she thought.

A ten-foot cone of heavy metal music blasted through the house with such ferocity that the walls on either side of the doorway splintered inward. Those battling out on the road all turned as a column of solid sound rose, blasting a chunk of the roof into the sky with contrails of dragon fire. The smoke in the house followed, sucked upward in the vacuum created by the music.

Stuart looked at her, his jaw hanging open and his ears ringing.

“Come on!” she shouted as the chord began to fade. She slung the guitar back across her shoulder and ran into the house.

Stuart followed, his great axe bouncing against his back.

The house was a wreck, but the back rooms remained intact. The roof in that area hadn’t burned through, and nothing moved in the darkness. Stuart pulled out the big-ass flashlight and shone it down the hall.

“Last room on the right,” Katie said, pulling her short sword from the sheath on her hip. She crouched, leading with her sword, and ran down the hall. Stuart held the flashlight high, keeping the light shining in front of her. They paused at the first rooms—bathroom on the left, utility room on the right. Both were devoid of the living and the unliving. At the end of the hall, Katie took a hard right into the empty room where she’d last seen Qindra.

“Bedroom behind me,” she said to Stuart. Flames flared outside the high windows, but Qindra stood in the corner, untouched. She looked thinner and haggard, but she still mumbled, still held her wand in front of her, the flicker of blue coming from the tip.

“Bedroom is all clear,” he said. “Smashed all to hell, but no bogies.” He stepped into the hollow room and stopped with a whistle. “She’s still there, after all these weeks.”

“Yeah, we have a problem,” Katie said. “Last time we were here, Sarah touched her, and her spirit was sucked into the sideways, down to the cavern where Qindra’s spirit is holed up, protecting the joint.”

“Dome’s down,” he said. “She’s not protecting anything at this point.”

A huge crash shook the house. Katie stumbled, but Stuart steadied her.

“Dragon!” Paul shouted from outside.

They heard the distinctive sound of a firing crossbow and a roar that split the night.

Stuart dodged back into the hallway, shouting. “Go! Get to safety!”

The house shook again, and flames shot across the opening in the roof.

“We gotta go,” he yelled, stepping back into the room.

Katie stood, the guitar out and her sword sheathed. “I think we gotta risk it,” she said.

“Fine,” Stuart bellowed and ran into the room. He grabbed Qindra by the waist, spun her around, and flipped her up over his shoulder. His arms bulged with her weight. For a moment, Qindra remained rigid, but as he turned to leave the room she went limp. He didn’t pause, didn’t slide into the ether like Sarah had done.

“Let’s go,” he growled. “She’s heavier than she looks.”

As they left the room, Qindra dropped her wand, and the house groaned.

Katie knelt, snatched up the wand, and sprinted after Stuart.
She’ll be wanting that when she snaps out of this
, Katie thought.

The front of the house had vanished. The dragon smashed her shoulder into the house once more. Stuart stumbled but kept running through what was left of the kitchen. Katie skidded to a halt. The dragon swung her head down through the gaping roof, her great eye—the size of Katie’s head—blinking with a wet, schlorping noise.

“Oh, shit,” Katie breathed.

Seventy-five

T
he patrons of
K
elly’s
B
urger
P
it watched in amazement as three dozen men and women in armor and carrying swords and spears emerged one after another from the restroom. They each nodded to Kelly, who stood behind the counter, a slice of pie slowly sliding off her pie server.

Skella apologized as the last of them emerged and fled up the stairs behind the militia. She stood to the side, waving at the gawping patrons. One sleepy-eyed kid waved back, and Skella grinned.

Deidre was the last out of the restroom. Skella held the door open as she wheeled to the stairs. Two burly men trotted back down the stairs and grabbed either side of her chair.

One of the women in the restaurant stood and pointed. “She’s got a gun,” she said.

“Part of the show,” Skella said. “Nothing to worry about.” She turned to Kelly, who didn’t look half as confused as she might’ve.

“You off to Anezka’s place?” Kelly asked, wiping her hands with a rag.

Skella nodded. “Aye. Hope we aren’t too late.”

“Go,” Kelly said. “Don’t worry about this lot.” She waved her hands toward the customers.

As Skella raced up the stairs, she heard Kelly offering the patrons free pie.

By the time she pushed through the door at the top of the stairs, the Black Briar crew had commandeered a bus. They hustled the elderly passengers off and handed the bus driver a wad of cash to take them into the pub and wait. Then they all loaded the bus and drove north toward the highway.

“Think they’re okay?” Deidre asked as Skella settled in a seat next to her wheelchair.

“With Sarah and Katie, I’m sure they’ll survive.”

Deidre caressed the shotgun with one hand and rubbed her eyes. “What a total cluster fuck.”

They pulled onto Highway 2 and were waiting at the turn to Chumstick when three ambulances came screaming up behind them.

“Melanie and Dena made good time,” Deidre said, holding on to the bar by her chair as the bus made a hard left turn. “Let’s hope we can save some of our people.”

Skella sat with one hand holding the side of her head. Jara had been afraid to hit her too hard, so she’d come to as he carried her out of Gletts’s secret cave. The freezing rain had also helped to revive her. She’d known Sarah needed her and had fought him.

Unun’s voice had followed her as she ran through the woods, praying she could make it to the golf course before they stopped her. Good people had probably died because of her family’s growing xenophobia.

She stared out the window watching lights flashing in the distance—fire, magic, worse …

“I just hope we aren’t too late,” Deidre said, taking Skella’s hand.

Seventy-six

B
y the time
I
could stop coughing,
I
realized
I
’d come out of the mountain behind Anezka’s property. There were no bodies here, no spirits, cultists, or anyone. I could see the fires out on the road, and to my left Anezka’s house burned. The flames were green. No question what that was. The flames would lick the sky until dawn finally sapped them of their magic. Basically, the whole place was a loss.