Chapter 59
B urying that sizzling, hand-crafted firecracker in Nick’s jacket was an act of pure desperation on Amiya’s part. She didn’t know what it would accomplish, if anything. At best, she hoped it might provide a distraction to allow her to escape the burning mansion.
“I love you, Nick,” she had said, and had never meant the declaration more than she did then.
At the mention of his name, dull recognition flickered in his eyes. He stopped his hand, the branding iron so close to her cheek that she could feel its flesh-searing heat.
“Babe?” he asked, as if waking from a dream.
The firecracker exploded with a searing flash of light and sound. Nick’s eyes went wide, his consciousness fully restored—but he lost his balance on the steps. The branding iron dropped from his fingers. Nick tumbled like a log down the long spiral staircase.
Praying that he would be okay, Amiya hurried down the steps after him. Grandpa Lee came around the corner of the newel post at the bottom of the staircase. The old man was drenched in sweat, and it looked as if flames had singed his beard.
Both of them went to Nick. Nick lay on the last few steps, head turned to the side. He wore his normal clothes again, but there was a dark spot on his abdomen, a stain of blood and charred clothing.
“No.” Amiya touched his head.
“Come on now, son,” Grandpa Lee said, crouched next to him. He coughed, the smoke growing thicker. “It’s not your time.”
Nick breathed—and gagged. Amiya cradled his head in her hands and helped him to sit up.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “I’m so sorry, Nick. I didn’t want to hurt you but?—”
“It’s okay.” His voice was raspy. “Think we ought to get out of here, guys.”
Amiya and Grandpa Lee helped Nick stand. The house was falling apart around them. Timbers collapsed from the ceiling. Draperies billowed and snapped with flames. Clouds of black, suffocating smoke wafted through the rooms.
Nick hung his arm across Amiya’s shoulders. Grandpa Lee helped to steady his grandson, and turned away from them.
“Hey,” Nick said. “Grandpa?”
“I’m taking on the burden, son,” Grandpa Lee said. “You kids get on out of here now.”
“Wait!” Amiya said.
But Grandpa Lee ignored both of them. He raced to the staircase. He picked up the branding iron from where it had fallen onto a step.
Amiya didn’t know if the churning smoke had distorted her vision, but once he put his hands on that terrible tool, he was no longer the beloved grandfather who had been so sweet to her. He transformed, in an instant, into the fearsome Overseer.
And she saw huge, distorted faces gathered around Grandpa Lee, their features formed from the billowing smoke and flames, their hungry mouths open in shouts of an unknown language, demanding final payment in exchange for freedom.
The ancient, evil entities , a primitive part of her mind whispered, and cold, raw terror came over her. The powers behind it all . . .
She tore her gaze away and looked at Nick, and from the fear flashing in his eyes, she realized he saw them, too.
Grandpa Lee looked back at both of them, once, and it was an image that would be seared in Amiya’s brain for the rest of her life: a man of two minds, one of love, one of hate.
He pressed the branding iron against his own chest.
And, roaring, he charged into the flames.