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Not that they actually needed to.
Roger didn’t immediately continue, instead staring at the building for several seconds. Amusement—and perhaps a trace of contempt—crossed his expression. “They’ve placed a repelling spell across this end of the building.”
My gaze shot to the building. If there was a spell, I wasn’t seeing it… I narrowed my gaze and, after a second, caught the faintest shimmer—one that I would normally have passed off as heat haze if Roger hadn’t said anything.
“Just this end?” Monty was saying, “that makes no sense, given a spell to raise the roof can be cast from any direction.”
“I rather suspect there’s more to that spell than mere repelling.” I glanced at Roger, but if he knew what else it contained, he wasn’t about to share.
“In one minute, the ranger will appear,” he said. “When he reaches the halfway point, I will enter the building and seize Jaqueline—”
“Is she actually still there?” I asked. “She is capable of transport spells, isn’t she?”
“If a transport spell had been used, its backwash would linger. They are not easy spells to develop or use.”
I was well aware how unpleasant the things were to use, having stepped into one up in Canberra. But that didn’t mute the relevance of my question. The fact that Roger—or rather, Maelle—didn’t seem concerned was troubling. The certainty of their own superiority over those within that building might yet be their downfall.
And ours, if we weren’t all very careful.
“I’ll leave now,” he said. “When I hit the building, you attack it.”
He spun and left, moving so fast he was little more than a pale blur through the trees.
“Am I the only one disturbed by their lack of concern?” Monty’s expression was pensive as he stared after Roger.
“No.” I flexed my fingers against the knife, but it didn’t really ease the gathering tension. “I’ve got a really bad feeling about all this.”
“Me too.” He switched his gaze to the bunkhouse. “I agree with you about that spell—it feels too heavy to be a mere repelling spell.”
“I’m not seeing anything to indicate what else it might contain, though.”
“Neither am I, and that’s what worries me.”
“If that’s the only thing worrying you, you’re getting off lightly.”
Movement caught my eye, and I glanced past him. Aiden had moved out of the trees and had begun his descent toward the bunkhouse.
My tension ratcheted up several more notches.
“The game is afoot,” I said. “How do you want to play this?”
“Aside from carefully? We stay in the trees and pray for a miracle. The minute we raise our magic, that spell is going—” He stopped, his gaze widening.
My head snapped around in time to see a shimmer of movement. Roger, in the air, in what I would call the “Superman flying” pose as he smashed, arrow-straight, through a boarded window.
A heartbeat later, the screaming began.
Screaming that was abruptly cut off.
ChapterThirteen
Monty cursed and began to spell, his magic rising swiftly and filling the air with power. I hastily followed his lead, weaving my inner wild magic around the blasting spell to strengthen it before sending it chasing after his.
The two spheres tumbled through the air, one curving to the right, one to the left. But before either could hit the building, the spell locked around the end of it reacted.
It didn’t repel. It simply absorbed.
“Oh, fuck,” Monty said, “that’s not good. Perhaps if we move around—”
