Grounded (27 page)

The aura of energy seeping off Mikhail pulsated with crippling strength.

“Jericho is dead.” Mikhail said flatly. “Rightly so. He turned me in and did everything in his power to ruin my life. And you know girl, I was finally excommunicated over buying some artifacts for the amulet from a young Band of Thieves.” He sneered, still clearly bitter. “So when I left society, I joined this Band. Where others saw petty criminals, I saw an army. And so I spent my years turning them from a band of children into legend. My personal army to take back my throne.”

Then Mikhail suddenly threw his hands in the air with a flurry of movement. Avery moved before her brain even caught up. A wave of electrical energy shot forth from Mikhail’s open hands. Crackling through the air, it smashed into the wall. Avery had jerked to the side but fell, hitting the ground and rolling. In another flash, Mason resurfaced, lunging at Mikhail from behind. Avery struggled to stand, ready to get her hands on Mikhail at the same time. She never got the chance. Mikhail turned on Mason and blasted him back against the opposite wall. Mason met the concrete with a deafening pop.

“Mason!” Avery gasped.

Her companion crumpled to the floor. Avery began to run towards him when Mikhail whirled and met Avery mid-motion. Smacking her with magic, she went sprawling back to the floor with a blow that left her bones rattling. She didn’t get up in time and he was on her again. Mikhail lashed out and caught her arm, his talons drawing blood from where he held. Avery screamed when her arm suddenly felt like fire. Mikhail let a simmer of magic flood right into her and her vision threatened to black out.

Though relatively familiar with the magic, she’d never realized it felt just like this. Her world blurred even though the moment lasted for only seconds. Mikhail suddenly dropped her and turned. Mason had lunged for him from behind but again, the older harpie held the advantage. Opening his hand, he used another blast of energy to send Mason sprawling.

This time he landed directly behind Avery. Though her world kept spinning, she regained a quick sense of coherency. Her left hand went for Mason, fingers meeting his slumped form. Her right hand went into the air. The magic stirred in her chest, and Avery used it. She pushed the hot simmering feeling out through her blood, to her finger tips, and to the open air with a flash of blue. It made contact with Mikhail as a blast to his torso, but before he even fell back, he threw another blow at her. As if the stronger magic struck her straight out of the air, the blue flashed disappeared.

The building trembled, rubble shaken from the ceiling and year old soot exploding. The hallway quickly became a blur of dust. Avery’s left hand still on Mason, she animated again. Grabbing him, she tugged.

“Come on,” She yanked again. Mason moved, staggering to his feet but he didn’t stand up right. Avery didn’t have to ask to know Mason had broken something from his collision with the wall. Wedging herself under his arm, she grabbed him and pulled.

The dust storm allowed them the barest of seconds and Avery slipped into the next hall. Her world view was distorted but her feet kept moving. They couldn’t run but began to trot. Mason let out a sick moan.

“Come on, please come on.” She begged him and herself.

She could feel the large shift of magic as Mikhail moved behind them.

“You can’t escape me!” He boomed in their wake but Avery kept moving.

She took a left, the maze of the building always giving her one more turn. Mason staggered more with each shift in direction. The magic in their bodies helped them move but it wouldn’t make them invincible.

“We have to hurry Mason, please don’t give up.” She said again but her voice didn’t come out right.

The wound on her collar bone had opened again and bled more profusely. She felt the wetness coat her shirt and though the wound wasn’t large, it still planned on draining her slowly. Mason’s weight suddenly seemed heavier and the next steps suddenly seemed harder.

She spotted a door on the right and went for it. The door gave way and she stumbled inside. They’d reached the main factory room of the warehouse. Much of it had been destroyed and the rest covered in dirt, dust, and splintered wood. The massive metal crates that lined the room had survived the fire, sitting rusted and abandoned. The only light that slipped in was from segments of the ceiling which had collapsed.

Avery stumbled forward, behind the first row of metal crates. Mason’s weight finally too heavy, she let go and the harpie crumbled into a sitting position. His wings were crooked behind him and his face looked shallow and gaunt.

His eyes were open though and Mason struggled to move.

“Avery!” He reached out for her but she ignored it.

Spotting the nearest burnt piece of wood, she grabbed it and jammed it under the door. Though Mikhail could blow the entire things to splinters, it would buy them that one extra second.

“Avery!” Mason called again and this time she dropped to his side.

“Are you okay?” She asked him but Mason didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on her blood soaked shirt.

“You need to run, Avery. You need to escape because I can’t.”

He sounded too weak and Avery’s heart skipped a beat. Shaking, she reached out and clasped his face, forcing him to look up at her.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Avery--”

“I’m not! Mason, he’ll just find me again. You know that. I’d rather stay with you and give it a last fight.”

He hissed, pushing himself up against the wall. His hands caught hers.

“I’m sorry, Avery. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me. You wouldn’t die if it wasn’t for me.” His voice broke.

“Shut up.” Her eyes burned and she squeezed his fingers. “Mason, we’ll live. We have to. We’re moving into together, remember? You’ll be Prince and I’ll actually be some princess.” She laughed though it wasn’t funny. “You can’t give up. We have to have that future. Don’t you want to?”

Mason’s green eyes flickered with some light.

“I’ll fight for it. I won’t give it up.”

He gave a weak smile and Avery drew some confidence from his agreement. But they still needed a miracle. And Avery needed to think of something.

Twenty-Six

“What do we know about the amulet? The magic?” Avery asked in a hurry.

Mason had stood, bracing the majority of his weight against the rusted crate. His shoulders didn’t open all the way and the bones in his wings sat at an odd angle. Still his legs worked and he was using them. He maneuvered them around another crate, searching for a better spot. Some of the stacked crates had shifted from excess weight and heat forcing them to bend dangerously towards the ground. A few had already fallen, sitting sideways on the floor. These were big enough to hide behind and still small enough to see over them.

“What you see is what you get.” Mason answered her question but remained too busy to even look at her.

Mikhail’s pulsating aura was coming closer. Mikhail wasn’t stupid enough to run in blind and that bought them a precious second.

“Look, we have all of Jericho’s memories. There has to be something we’re missing. There was some reason that Jericho turned in Mikhail all of those years ago to get him away from the magic.”

“Avery,” Mason finally turned toward her. “My father betrayed Mikhail plain and easy. You of all people know that a friend could do that to another friend.”

His words were honest and short. Avery’s mouth snapped shut with a click. He was referring to Leela. She turned away. Her head was spinning and she put a hand to it.

“That’s not true. Leela only tried to do what was best for me.” Then everything lit up in her brain. How had she not seen it before? Dumbfounded, Avery whirled.

“Mason, this place. I’ve had dreams about this place from Jericho’s memories. Listen to me!” She maneuvered into his way and made him stop. Grabbing his hands, she broke it down in a quick flurry of words. “That was the difference between them after all. Jericho wanted an amulet. Mikhail wanted to absorb the magic. Jericho was telling Mikhail that he only did what was best for him because Mikhail’s plan was insane.”

Mason stole a quick glance at the door before returning his gaze to hers. “So what?”

“Jericho stopped him because he feared for Mikhail’s life. He said that absorbing magic like that would kill. Jericho saved Mikhail’s life because the Willow magic in your body could kill you.” That finally earned his belief. Mason’s attention glued now, he quizzed in a firmer voice.

“If the Willow magic could kill its occupant then how did you live with it for so long?”

“Because I couldn’t use it like that.” She gestured toward the energy coming from the hallway. “And when I finally began to grasp the potential it split between us.”

“I understand. He’ll kill himself if he uses the magic long enough. We just have to draw fire.” Mason smirked.

They didn’t have another second. The door burst into an explosion of splinters. Mikhail was here.

“Don’t hide from me. I know you’re here. Gather your petty bravery and face me!” Mikhail boomed, his voice echoing even in the massive warehouse. The harpie suddenly threw up a hand. Before Avery or Mason could budge, he let out a blast of magic. It slammed into the metal crates they hid behind and sent them sliding. They barely moved in time to avoid the collision.

“Avery, run!” Mason suddenly shoved her, springing in the opposite direction. Avery’s feet obeyed and she dashed behind the next crate in the row. Mason didn’t follow though but dashed in the opposite direction. Before she could protest, Mikhail sent another harrowing blow of magic her way. It smashed into the crate with crippling force but the more sturdy metal just budged. Mikhail whirled and sent another blow in Mason’s direction. It smashed into the crate with a deafening thud. A few of the crates stacked on the top row shook disturbingly.

It clicked in Avery’s head. Mason kept moving in the opposite direction so she did the same. Separated they made for a harder target.

Mikhail stood in the center of the room so every time she ran for another crate she put herself in the opening. She also drew his attention as a target. Avery dashed but Mikhail spotted her before she could disappear. He moved for her but never got the chance to attack.

It happened suddenly. One of the tilted crates stacked on the top of the pile had given and went crashing for Mikhail. The harpie turned and knocked the metal object out of the air with an explosion of energy. The crate gave and went bouncing backwards in a pile of twisted metal. Avery stole a glance to catch on with what was happening. Mason had thrown the crate, no doubt knocking it free with the magic of his own.

“Genius.” She whispered. He found the one way for Mikhail to burn himself out without being the target practice themselves. She didn’t hesitate. Her eyes instead went toward the last row of crates. Another crate sat tilted on top of the stack. She instantly knew it was her turn.

Quick on her feet, she ran for the stack. Heart pounding in her ears, she slid through the maze. Mikhail’s powers may blow him out but at that very moment, he was stronger than ever. And he was throwing that energy Mason’s way.

Avery reached the end of the stack of crates and looked up. Things always looked smaller in the distance. This had to be at least twelve feet to the first ledge and fourteen more to properly reach the crate she desired.

“Why don’t I have wings?” She groaned. There were tiny ridges in the metal, dangerous but doable. She griped one, dug her nails into the edge and tried to find a proper fit for her sneakers.

Mikhail’s attention must have stayed on Mason. Though she couldn’t see it, she heard the battle rage on. Mikhail’s magic hit the walls, shaking the entire room. The crate she clung to trembled and she nearly lost her grip. Her nails bled but she forced herself up another step and then another. Soon the ground threatened to disappear beneath her feet. She stole a glance downward. The floor appeared to spin.

Avery’s heart dropped into her stomach.

“Please don’t fall. Please don’t fall.” She begged herself taking one more step.

“I expected better of you! Cowards!” Mikhail yelled out. “Come out and fight!”

The aggravation in his voice was reflected in the angry pulsating aura. The magic he was using was spiking. Mason must have thrown another crate because it blasted to pieces with a shattering boom. The room shook just as Avery reached the ledge. Her grip threatened to give. Quickly she pressed a palm to the tilted crate.

She pushed the hot simmering feeling out through her blood, to her finger tips, and to the open air with a flash of blue. The crate shifted but didn’t fly. It wasn’t working. Avery’s breath hitched in her chest. The power that she had known for so long had been cut in half. She’d need use everything she had to even move the crate.