“Spare him your pity. He was already learning sorcery when I met him.” He turned his attention to Anne. “The little girl has grown up, I see. I should thank you for falling into my trap. Your power will be very useful, and there is unfinished business between us. You cost me a great deal.”
Anne did not respond.
“You remember how to remain silent, do you? Good. But be warned your little trick will not work twice. If you destroy these eyes it will be but a minor inconvenience. My own body still lives, and I can useit to take control of one of the others. But where shall we begin, you and I? An eye for an eye, perhaps?”
The window fell away with crash and the sound of shattering glass. Smoke curled from the broken hinges.
Debenham rushed to the window and stared out. “What the devil!”
An invisible hand opened the door to the library. Eversleigh must have escaped.
“Damn him!” Debenham raced to the door and dashed out.
“Kill me.” It was Anne’s voice, just above a whisper.
Darcy was speechless. “I...”
“I beg you! I know what I face, and he will want revenge on me.” Her voice was agonized.
Anne knew what Sir Lewis was like better than he did. “But...”
“Quickly! Before he returns! There will not be another chance.”
In her position, he would want to die, too, and he had spent hours trying to devise ways to kill the sorcerers using his powers. But death was irreversible. “I cannot. I am sorry.”
“Then I will do it myself!” She created it a tiny whirlwind directly in front of her, hovering in front of her face. At first nothing happened. She could not move, and her face was blocked by the whirlwind that was sucking the air from her lungs.
Longer and longer. How long before she lost consciousness? Darcy’s hands ached to reach out to her, but the wards blocked the way. How could she do this to herself? And why was he holding his own breath?
The whirlwind vanished. Anne’s head hung limply, her skin chalk white. But after a moment she sucked in air, her color slowly returning.
Of course; she could only keep the whirlwind going until she lost consciousness, and then her body would insist on breathing again. He let out a deep breath, but his chest ached for what she would suffer.
She raised her head, blinking her eyes. “Dear God, no,” she whispered hoarsely. “No.”
“I am sorry.” What else could he say? Helplessness sent bile into his mouth.
“Darcy, I beg you, help me. Otherwise I will have to use fire, and I do not want to burn.” Her voice shook with horror.
God, no. How often in the last day had he imagined dying by fire? His mouth was dry. Which was worse, allowing her to bring herself agonizing pain before the relief of death, or putting out the fire and condemning her to torture?
“Damn you, Darcy.” Anne looked straight at him as the hem of her skirt began to burn. She was going to do it.
He could not allow it. He grabbed the ewer of water they had given him for washing and threw it on the flames, calling extra pond water to douse the remains. “Not that way, God have mercy!” He glanced around desperately. The basin. That would do it. He piled up three books, set the basin on top, and used another book to push the pile through the wards until it was just below her chin. He told the pond water to fill it to the brim. “Do the whirlwind again. When you lose consciousness, your face will fall in the water.” And she would drown.
“Thank you.” Her voice dropped. “Tell Aelfric... No, nothing.”
The air began to swirl again, trying to suck the water from the bowl as well as stealing Anne’s air. It took all of Darcy’s control to keep the water still. At least it kept him from thinking about what was about to happen.
The whirlwind died away again. This time water sloshed over the edge of the basin as Anne’s face fell into it. He could tell when she inhaled water, and he knew what she would be experiencing if she still felt anything. He had ended up breathing in a lungful of water several times before he learned to control his magic. It was a painful, choking feeling. He looked away, unable to bear to watch.
Finally there was a thump as her body toppled to the floor. That had not happened when she was unconscious earlier. That must mean... Her head was facing away from him, so he could not see her face.
Debenham reappeared and stopped short at the sight of Anne’s limp body. “What happened?”
“She has elemental magic. She drowned herself.” And he had helped her.
Debenham rolled Anne onto her back. Water dripped from her open mouth. “I need help in the library!” he shouted. He glanced up at Darcy and snapped his fingers.
