Seasons of Sorcery Read online

  Owen wet his lips, but he didn’t say anything.

  Darrell sighed, then lifted his arm and backhanded Owen. The sharp crack of the blow echoed through the barn, further hardening my resolve.

  Owen bent over double, coughing and coughing. That went on for several seconds before he finally got his breath back and straightened up.

  “The password,” Darrell demanded again. “This is your last chance. Otherwise, Celeste starts cutting off pieces of Gin.”

  Owen mumbled something unintelligible.

  Darrell frowned and leaned down. “What? What did you say?”

  Owen mumbled again. This time, everyone looked at him, including Celeste, who shifted on her feet and lowered her sword one precious inch away from my throat. Amateurs. They should have known better than to take their eyes off me.

  “What did you say?” Darrell asked again.

  Owen lifted his head and smiled. “I said I’m going to enjoy watching you die, you backstabbing son of a bitch.”

  Before Darrell could move or react, Owen snapped his head forward.

  Crunch.

  This time, Darrell’s nose was the one that broke. He screamed and stumbled away, blood gushing down his face and his tablet slipping from his hand. He sucked down a breath, probably to order Celeste to cut my throat, but Owen let out a loud roar and surged to his feet, even though his arms were still tied down to the chair. He ran forward and smashed his body—chair and all—straight into Darrell.

  And that’s when the real ren-faire battle began.

  Chapter Nine

  Owen and Darrell crashed to the floor with a loud, thunderous roar.

  The wooden chair must have been as rickety as the hayloft boards, because it splintered to pieces under Owen’s weight. He rolled over and up onto his knees, then ripped the ropes off his arms. The second he was free, Owen threw himself on top of Darrell and started punching him.

  Celeste cursed and started in that direction to help Darrell, but I kicked out and drove my foot into the back of her left thigh. She let out a loud, surprised shriek and tumbled to ground, although she managed to hang on to her swords.

  Those two giants were still holding on to me, so I turned to the one on my right and drove my foot into the side of his ankle, which let out a loud, sickening pop! The giant screamed and loosened his grip. I shoved my hand down between us and grabbed the silver sword out of the scabbard on his belt. It was heavy, just like all the giants’ weapons were, but I managed to slice it across his stomach, and he dropped to the ground, screaming and clutching at the wound.

  I turned toward the second giant, who was still hanging on to me, his mouth gaping open in shock. I yanked my arm free of his grip, wrapped both hands around the hilt of my stolen sword, and sliced it across his chest. He too screamed and fell to the ground.

  The two giants might be out of the fight, but Celeste was definitely not.

  She surged back to her feet and whirled around to me. She was still clutching her swords, and golden sparks of electricity started sizzling up and down the blades again. I reached for my own Stone magic, using it to harden my skin, although Celeste didn’t seem to notice.

  “I’m going to cut you to pieces for that!” she hissed.

  “Do your worst!” I hissed right back at her.

  Celeste let out a shriek of rage and charged forward. I also screamed with rage and stepped up to meet her.

  Celeste whirled and twirled her swords every which way, slicing out with them over and over again. I might be skilled with my knives, but it was all I could do to lift the giant’s heavy sword and block her vicious blows. Yep, I definitely needed to add medieval weapons to my training regimen. Some heavier weights too.

  After a particularly fast, vigorous exchange, Celeste managed to knock my stolen sword out of my hand. The weapon sailed away and landed point-down in one of the hay bales. Ah, the irony. I couldn’t have done that if I’d tried a hundred times.

  Celeste tightened her grip on her swords and reached for even more of her magic, so that the blades seemed to be made of golden electricity instead of metal. “Now there’s nothing to keep me from slicing you to ribbons and then frying your weak, clumsy ass.”

  She let out a loud yell and charged forward, slashing her swords through the air as fast as she could. I spun out of the way of her first attack, then her second one, but I couldn’t avoid her third strike, and she sliced one of her swords across the back of my thigh.

  The hard, bruising blow made me stumble, but thanks to my Stone magic, the blade didn’t actually bite into my flesh, and her electricity only scorched my costume, not my skin. Still, I let out a loud, agonized scream, flailed around, and dropped to one knee, as though I was severely injured.

  Celeste thought she’d won, and she started circling me, still clutching her swords. Electrical sparks fell off the blades like acid raindrops and crackled against the floor. I felt like I was trapped in a fireworks show, although I maintained my grip on my Stone magic to protect my skin from her hot, burning power.

  She was savoring the moment. Well, I hoped she enjoyed it. Because I was a long way from done, something she was going to realize in another minute, two tops.

  “I don’t see why Darrell was so worried about you,” she said. “Sure, you’re a good fighter, but I’m better, especially with my swords. And my electricity gives me a clear advantage.”

  I could have told her that the better fighter didn’t always win and that I’d killed a whole lot of people who’d been stronger than me in their magic, but I didn’t waste my breath. She was already dead. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Instead, I looked past Celeste at Owen, who was still pummeling Darrell. The two giants who’d been sitting in front of the computers finally realized that their boss was going to lose the fight, and they surged to their feet and headed in that direction. Owen saw them coming, picked up one of the broken pieces of his chair, and threw it at them. Even though it was just a harmless piece of wood, the two giants still lurched back out of the way.

  Celeste finally noticed that Owen was beating the shit out of her boyfriend, but instead of going over to help him, she turned back to me instead.

  “Time to die, little Spider,” she snarled.

  She lifted one of her swords and then snapped it down. I didn’t even try to avoid the blow. Instead, I reached for even more of my Stone magic, closed my hand into a fist, and smashed it up against her weapon.

  CLANG!

  Celeste wasn’t expecting the concrete resistance of my Stone-hardened fist, and she lost her grip on her sword, which sailed through the air before landing point-down in that same hay bale right next to my weapon. Bull’s-eye for a second time. Even Robin Hood would have been impressed with my aim today.

  Surprise flickered in Celeste’s hazel eyes, and she lashed out with her other sword, trying to drive it into my heart. This time, I reached out, wrapped my fingers around the blade, and used it like a lever to pull myself back up and onto my feet. Celeste snarled, gripped the hilt with both hands, and tried to wrest her sword free, but my Stone magic gave me a cement grip that she just couldn’t break.

  I dropped my free hand down by my side, this time reaching for my Ice magic. In an instant, I had formed a long, jagged Ice knife.

  Celeste tried one last time to wrest her sword away, but I tightened my grip on the blade and yanked, pulling her toward me. Celeste growled and raised one of her hands to blast me in the face with her electricity, but I was quicker. I snapped up the Ice knife in my other hand and buried the cold shard in the side of her neck.

  Her eyes bulged, and the golden glow of her electrical magic snuffed out of her gaze like a fire doused by a wet blanket. I twisted the cold shard in even deeper, staring at her the whole time.

  “If you were a true fan, then you would know that no one does my job better than me,” I hissed.

  Celeste let out a strangled scream, almost as if she was agreeing with me. Then her eyes rolled up in the back of h
er head, and she crumpled to the ground with my Ice knife still stuck in her neck. Blood started pooling under her body. The scarlet sheen matched her fancy costume.

  The pirate queen was dead.

  “Celeste!” Darrell shouted. “No!”

  He had finally managed to scramble away from Owen, who was now battling the two giants. Owen had gotten his hands on someone’s sword, and one of the giants already lay dead at his feet. Owen snarled and engaged the second giant, swinging his stolen sword like it was his more familiar blacksmith hammer.

  “Celeste!” Darrell shouted again. “Celeste!”

  He raced in my direction. I reached for my Ice magic again, but before I could make another knife, he plowed into me. My legs hit something, and Darrell bent me backward. An instant later, my head snapped back against a hard surface, making me lose my grip on my Stone magic. White stars flashed in front of my eyes, and my skin reverted to its normal vulnerable texture.

  It took me a moment to realize that I was now sprawled across the table with the fancy medieval diorama. Judging from the hard lumps poking into my back, I’d just flattened a couple of mountains and several legions of dwarves and giants.

  I tried to rise, but Darrell shoved me right back down again, then grabbed one of the gray stone castles off the table.

  “You bitch!” he screamed, his voice teetering on a plaintive wail. “You killed Celeste! You killed my pirate queen!”

  He snapped the castle down, aiming for my nose, but I managed to catch his wrist in my hand and stop him from hitting me. But that was only part of the problem. The castle also featured a flag pole with a very long, very sharp point. Darrell snarled and pressed down, trying to drive the needlelike tip into my right eye.

  My head was still spinning, and I was having trouble grabbing hold of my magic so I could blast him with my Ice power. He might be an amateur, but he could still kill me if he hit me in just the right spot—

  Something silver glinted behind Darrell, who suddenly screamed and arched back. The miniature castle slipped from his hand, hit the side of the table, and bounced off, dropping to the floor. A hand grabbed Darrell’s shoulder, yanking him away from me.

  Owen was here.

  I rolled off the table, landing hard on my knees on the floor. The fall rattled my brain again, making a few more white stars wink on and off in front of my eyes. I forced myself to scoot away from Darrell, but I didn’t have to worry about him any longer.

  Owen spun Darrell around, then stepped up and rammed his sword into the other man’s stomach.

  Darrell screamed again and clutched at Owen’s costume, his face white with shock and pain.

  “That’s for hurting Gin,” Owen growled. “And this is for hurting me.”

  He shoved the sword in even deeper, then yanked it out and pushed the other man away.

  Darrell screamed again and stumbled back against the table hard enough to jostle the remaining castles, mountains, and figurines on the diorama. Het let out another strangled cry, then his legs went out from under him, and he sank to the floor. He tried to clamp his hands down over the wound, but he didn’t have the strength for it, and he slowly pitched over onto his side.

  Darrell landed right next to that gray stone castle he’d tried to stab into my face, and he lifted his arm, as though he was going to reach for it. But he was even weaker than before, and his hand flopped to the floor well short of the castle. He didn’t move after that.

  The Black Rook was dead.

  Owen stood over Darrell, wheezing for breath and still clutching his stolen sword. He kicked Darrell in the ribs to make sure he was dead, then staggered over and dropped to his knees beside me.

  “Gin! Are you okay?”

  I blinked the last few stars out of my eyes and focused on him. Owen’s face was a mess of cuts, blood, and bruises from fighting Darrell, and his broken nose had swelled up to almost twice its normal size, but he was as handsome as ever to me.

  Owen leaned forward and cupped my cheek with his bloody hand, gently stroking his thumb across my skin. “Gin? Are you okay?” he repeated.

  I reached up and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in my equally bloody one. “I’m okay. Thanks to you.”

  Owen grinned, his eyes glowing like beautiful violet moons. His grin widened, and he leaned down to kiss me—

  The main barn doors burst open, and Finn, Bria, and Sophia charged inside. Finn and Bria were both clutching swords, while Sophia was holding her silver cutlass.

  My friends skidded to a stop, their heads snapping from side to side as they took in the four dead giants, along with Celeste and Darrell and the fantasy diorama I’d flattened during the fight.

  “Aw, man,” Finn said, lowering his sword to his side. “We missed it! I totally wanted to engage in an old-fashioned sword duel!”

  Sophia sighed with regret. “Me too.”

  I glanced at Celeste, who was lying on the floor a few feet away. She was still clutching one of her swords, and the blade gleamed with a bright, eerie light, as though it was going to start crackling with electricity again, even though she was dead.

  I shuddered at the memory of her hot magic jolting through me. “Trust me. It’s not as much fun as you’d think it would be.”

  “Are you guys okay?” Bria asked. “And who are these people, and why did they kidnap Owen?”

  She came over and helped me to my feet, while Finn did the same for Owen.

  “I’ll tell you all about it,” I answered my sister. “After we get out of here. I’ve had enough swords, pirate queens, and ren-faire goons to last me a lifetime.”

  “Me too,” Owen murmured. “Me too.”

  I held out my hand, and Owen stepped forward and put his arm around me. Still holding on to each other, the two of us limped out of the barn.

  Chapter Ten

  Since we didn’t want to ruin the rest of the ren faire for everyone else, Sophia agreed to dispose of the bodies in the barn, as well as the three giants I’d killed in the woods earlier. Finn stayed behind to help her, while Bria drove Owen and me over to Jo-Jo’s salon.

  We had to wait until Jo-Jo finished with her latest round of clients, but the dwarf healed Owen and me with her Air magic and sent us on our way. We ended up back at my house late that afternoon.

  Owen was in the den, talking on the phone to Stuart Mosley at First Trust bank and trying to figure out just how much money Darrell had stolen and if he could get any of it back. While he hashed things out with Stuart, I went into the kitchen to make dinner.

  Last night, I’d brought home some of the faire food that Sophia and I had prepared, and I quickly reheated the pulled chicken in some of Fletcher’s barbecue sauce.

  While the chicken was warming up, I microwaved a couple of potatoes until they were almost done, then sliced them in half and scooped out most of the insides. I combined the potato innards with sharp cheddar cheese, sour cream, green onions, and crumbled pieces of crispy applewood-smoked bacon. Then I refilled the potato boats with the mixture, sprinkled them with even more cheese, and slid them into the oven to finish baking.

  After everything that had happened today, I wanted some warm comfort food, and barbecue chicken and twice-baked potatoes seemed like a good place to start.

  I also sliced, buttered, and toasted some of Sophia’s sourdough rolls in the oven and threw together a green salad filled with cherry tomatoes, carrots, and red onions and topped with a creamy blue-cheese dressing.

  I had just finished putting everything on the kitchen table, along with a pitcher of raspberry lemonade, when Owen came in, sat down, and set his phone aside. I sat down with him, and we both tucked into our food.

  The sweet and spicy barbecue chicken. Potatoes loaded with cheese and bacon. The warm toasted rolls. The crunchy, crispy salad with its blue-cheese tang. The fruity tartness of the lemonade. It was a delicious combination of flavors, aromas, and textures, and I enjoyed every single bite. Owen did too, judging by the fact that he went back for seconds, just
like I did.

  We didn’t talk much during the meal, just enjoying the food, each other’s company, and the fact that we had both survived another dangerous situation that we probably shouldn’t have.

  “What did Stuart say?” I asked after we’d taken the edge off our hunger.

  “He agreed to let me access Darrell’s accounts on Monday so I can recover some of the money he stole.” Owen sighed and set his fork down. “There’s not much left of it, though. Only a few thousand in his checking account. You were right about him spending it all. I’ll have to cover most of the difference out of my own pocket.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  He frowned. “What? Why not?”

  I jerked my head over at one of the kitchen counters. “Because Sophia stopped by while you were talking to Stuart, and she brought you some presents.”

  Owen followed my gaze. Celeste’s swords were sitting on the counter, along with the rook pin that Darrell had been wearing on his cloak.

  “How is that going to help?” Owen asked.

  “The rubies in the swords and the pin are worth quite a bit. We can go to Darrell’s house tomorrow, break in, and loot the rest of his stuff. It shouldn’t be too hard to find some buyers for his collectibles. I’ve already got Finn working on it. He’s pitching it as an estate sale, and he’ll run everything through First Trust. I don’t know that we’ll get all your money back, but we should be able to recover a good chunk of it.”

  Some of the tension eased out of Owen’s shoulders, and a smile spread across his face. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “Not nearly enough,” I teased. “You know, a girl does like to hear those things from time to time.”

  His smile widened. “Well, I’ll be sure to mention it more often, then. At the very least, every time you save me from ren-faire assassins.”

  My heart squeezed tight at how close I’d come to losing him to the Black Rook and Pirate Queen Celeste, but I winked, not wanting to ruin the lighthearted mood. “I’ll hold you to that. And there is something else you could do for me.”