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Forgetting someone there in our family of three. “You don’t sleep, Father.”
“Of course I do. I sleep and eat, even though I have no need of it. I live my life as normally as I can, or I would go mad in this prison of your making.”
“The dragon made the prison. Your actions, your decisions put you here.”
“Semantics.”
“If you beat me, where would I be?”
He didn’t answer. I picked up the book Conlan had left behind, turned, and walked back to the platform. It was my designated point of arrival and departure, and despite everything, I respected my father’s rules.
“Blossom,” he called out.
I turned to look at him.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to return here after you’ve done it and hear me say, ‘I’m so proud of you. You’ve done very well’?”
I kept walking.
Yes. It might be.
9
My eyes snapped open. I sat on the balcony, in the same spot I’d left. Rimush stood on my left, Troy waited on my right, and in front of me, Mayor Gene gripped the balcony’s rail. A battle raged in front of the gates and on the wall. Big, leathery beasts swooped down on huge wings, their leonine muzzles open wide, fangs ready to rend.
Manticores. Huge and shaggy with fur. I had never seen one like that, but if Ice Age wolves and cats could be bigger, its manticores could be, too. One, two…eight. Crap.
The town guard archers were firing volley after volley from the tower. To my right, Owen spun around like a shot-putter and hurled a giant tractor tire into the air. It smashed into a manticore in midflight. Its wings folded and it plunged to the ground. Three shapeshifters closed in on it and ripped it apart. A second shapeshifter group to the left dug into another manticore, deboning it like chicken.
Where was Curran?
I scanned the field. Where… There, on the wall, in warrior form. A manticore swung away from town, a limp body in its claws. Oh no. Foster. The realization stabbed me. The boy was dead. His head hung from his neck, twisted almost completely around. When manticores hunted, they killed like leopards, falling on their prey from above. The neck and the upper spine were their favorite targets.
Curran compressed himself, powerful muscles bunching across his frame, and leaped. His claws caught the manticore’s flank. It dropped Foster’s body and clawed at Curran, trying to dislodge him. He heaved himself onto the beast, gripped its left wing, and wrenched it off. Blood gushed. The manticore screeched like a dying bird, falling in a corkscrew spiral.
“Sharratum,” Rimush greeted me.
Mayor Gene whirled around. “You’re back.”
“How long?” I pointed at the carnage.
“Six minutes,” Rimush said, “and twenty seconds.”
“Do we fight?” Troy demanded. A bright white glow coated his irises. Curran must have left him here to watch over me until I came back.
The magic that saturated Penderton was moving, flowing back into the forest. It hadn’t retreated completely, but it had thinned, the bulk of it returning to its source. That thickness of magic was the only force suppressing the spores and now it was barely there.
I glanced at Rimush. “Do you feel it?”
“Yes.”
“This is a diversion.”
I jumped to my feet. Suddenly things became very simple. There was no room for doubt, and no time to waste. There was only a town filled with people who were counting on us to keep them safe.
I turned to Mayor Gene. “What’s the highest building in town?”
“Two choices: courthouse or water tower.”
The water tower wouldn’t have enough room for what I needed to do and there was a good chance it would blow up.
“How far is the courthouse?”
Gene pointed. I looked in the direction he indicated. A three-story brick building rose above the other houses, its white bell tower stretching to the sky.
“Half a mile, in the center of town.”
We could end up needing Gene to get into the courthouse without wasting time on guards and locked doors.
I turned to Troy. “Pick up the mayor and follow us.”
“I can walk,” Mayor Gene protested.
“Not fast enough.”
“Excuse me.” Troy scooped the older man into a bridal carry.
I took off down the stairs. Rimush followed. We burst onto the street and raced to the courthouse.
Streets flew by. A few more minutes and we emerged into the town square. The courthouse rose in front of us, a lone guard, a teenage girl clutching a sword, protecting the door.
“Let us through, Jenny!” Mayor Gene growled.
She jumped aside. I shoved the door. Locked.
“Troy!”
The werejackal set Gene down and kicked the door. It burst open. We ran inside, into a large chamber.
“Stairs?”
“In the back!” Gene hurried forward, to a double staircase at the back of the chamber.
Troy picked Gene up again and we took the stairs two at a time. Second floor. Third.
The stairs ended in a landing that opened to a long hallway.
