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My stomach dropped a mile. I wanted nothing more than to race home and find out what he had to say. “Did anybody come with him?”
“Nope, and he won’t talk about it until you get here. I’ll have Bruce drive me down. He’s got his car and driver with him. I’ll tell Smoky you’re fine so he doesn’t take it into his head that he has to join us.” As she hung up, I turned back to the others.
Morio was shaking his head. “I don’t think I can do it. I don’t know what I’d use.”
Wilbur shrugged. “I’m not so sure I can either—”
“Not a problem,” I said. “Iris can and she’s on her way.” Before they could ask, I added, “Smoky’s home, so Bruce is bringing her down in his car.”
As I moved away from the group, Trillian and Morio joined me.
“The lizard coming?” Trillian looked put out, but not angry.
“Not yet,” I said, barely hearing my words. My thoughts were wrapped up in so many things, not the least of which was a turmoil of curiosity over what had happened at the Dragon Council.
Iris showed up before too long. She walked the perimeter of the field, feeling out the energy. Wearing a thick cape against the ever-present rain and the increasing fog, she’d brought her Aqualine crystal wand with her.
As we watched, she began using it like she would a dowsing rod, searching for the exact point where the Bonecrusher had cast the spell into the ley line. Before long, she stopped. She was standing beside a drain that had been placed in the center of an access path next to a row of graves.
“Here it is. This grate drains into a culvert that runs out to the sewer. At least, that’s my guess. It keeps this section of the cemetery from flooding. The grate—and the drain—also happen to run directly along the ley line. By shooting her magic into the culvert, it got sucked into the energy of the land.”
“Good going,” Morio said, joining her. He leaned over, staring through the grate. “That’s probably why only these graves were affected. The newer parts of the cemetery are east of here, through the gates. Far enough from the ley line to remain untouched by the spell.”
“We should really map this out,” Delilah said, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jean jacket and shivering. “Tomorrow, I’ll come down here with Iris and diagram out exactly where the line runs through the cemetery.”
“What next? How can we help?” I joined them, closing my eyes. I was tired, but I could still pick up on the hum of demon magic as it raced near my feet, along with the low pulse of the ley line. Together, they formed an odd cadence, though twisted and off-key.
“You can help by standing back and being prepared to fight anything that comes oozing out of the drain or bursting out of the ground. This is a tricky spell,” Iris added. “When I sever the flow of magic, it will pour out of the ley line and there’s a good chance it’s going to create something ugly. Real ugly, and I’m not talking about just in the looks department. I’ll be too busy making certain that the lamia doesn’t feel the break, so you guys will have to cover my butt.”
We moved into position, ready for anything and hoping for nothing.
Iris motioned for us to be quiet as she focused on the drain grate.
I could see the energy now, the vortex caused by the Bonecrusher’s spell as it intruded into the energy of the land. A swirl of winds, clashing against one another. Iris worked a few yards away from the actual juncture of energy, pinching the spell so it didn’t suddenly bleed out and alert Stacia. She deftly wove her magic, latticing the lamia’s spell in a frost-shrouded net. Then, she began to tighten it, pulling it fast.
The energy would eventually back up, and Stacia would figure it out, but if we were lucky, we’d have found her and wiped her out before she fully realized what was going on. One blessing to fighting a powerful opponent: They weren’t always up to speed with all their meddling, and they ran enough magic for something like this to go overlooked for a few days.
Some fifteen minutes of intense concentration later, we were all a cold, sodden mess. Iris looked at me and nodded. She held out a short dirk that looked both sharp and ruthless. With one swift motion, she stabbed into the palpable braid of energy and sliced through it, severing the cord.
One . . . two . . . three . . . holy hell! One moment I was standing there, dagger out, waiting to see what would happen and the next, an explosion rocked the area in which we were standing, sending us all flying. Blown off my feet, I landed a good two yards back on the grass.
I scrambled up, checking to see if anything was broken, but by now my clothes were so heavy with water they’d cushioned my fall. Looking around, I tried to see if something had slipped through. Nothing . . . nothing . . . and then I saw Wilbur. He was on the ground, clawing at his neck.
“Wilbur—help him!” I raced over to his side.
Menolly got there before me. She went down on her knees and frantically started waving her arms over him. “I can’t see what’s got him.”
“I can!” Morio shoved her aside.
Startled, Menolly hissed, but recovered quickly and crouched next to him, ready to help.
“What is it?” I knelt on the other side of the necromancer.
Morio waved his hand across Wilbur’s neck and whispered something. The outline of a gremlin came into view. Originating in the Netherworld, gremlins were implike spirits. While not fully demonic, they were dangerous and fed off psychic energy. The Yodalike creature splayed its wide hands across Wilbur’s head, while its feet were wrapped around his throat.
“What can we do? How do we kill it?”
Delilah motioned me aside. “I don’t know what can, but I know who can. Move back, everybody.” She spoke so forcefully that everybody stopped to stare at her for a second before scrambling back. As she closed her eyes, her energy shifted. And then, before we could say a word, the air around her rippled and she transformed into her black panther self, but she wasn’t alone. The misty outline of a golden spotted leopard stood beside her.
