Chapter Sixteen
The phooka’s claw had dug into his arm and slashed downward, creating a long gash.
The moment Elizabeth’s concentration wavered, the portal winked out of sight.
She said some words that no lady should even know.
Apparently her modifications to the spell meant that the portal was completely attuned to her consciousness.
I did it once. I can do it again.
Doing her best to ignore the sounds of the battle, Elizabeth focused her will, chanting the spell and drawing on the ether once more.
The new portal was a little more solid but still translucent.
She could see the brick of the garden wall through it, but she could also glimpse the goblin world. Hopefully that would be sufficient.
Next she needed to draw the goblin toward the portal; Hurst’s command of the creature meant that it could not return of its own free will.
This was the trickiest part; nobody alive had ever performed this banishment spell. Perhaps Elizabeth was a fool to think she could do it, but she was a desperate fool.
The key was drawing ether from inside the gate and wrapping it around the goblin.
She reached out with a mental “hand” to grasp strands of ether visible in the goblin world framed by the portal.
When her mind touched the alien ether, she nearly recoiled.
Goblin ether was quite different, far more powerful.
Touching it was like grabbing a whip made of flames.
She forced herself to reach out and grab the strands again. This time she was prepared for the raw power it exuded. It burned painfully, but she only tightened her hold. Carefully, she stretched the ether from the portal toward the goblin.
One of the beast’s huge paws knocked William flat and held him down.
The right head swooped down, fangs extended for a bite.
Desperation gave Elizabeth strength. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she looped the strands of ether around the phooka’s three necks, once, twice, three times.
The beast howled and looked away from William, trying to identify the source of this new attack.
Hopefully these etheric strands would be sufficient; she could not maintain her grip on the fiery ether much longer. Now she dragged the strands of ether back toward the portal, pulling the goblin along with it.
The ether slid easily through the gate, happily returning to its “home.” But, caught by the imperative of Hurst’s spell, the goblin dug its feet into the garden’s soil, resisting the ether’s pull.
Elizabeth was beginning to lose her grip on the strands.
She fed more of her power into her imaginary “arms,” strengthening them to continue pulling on the ether.
Energy drained out of her like blood from a wound.
It was more than she could afford, but this was the only way to save William and everyone else.
Despite its best efforts, the goblin continued to be dragged toward the portal.
It slid a foot, two feet… Elizabeth poured more energy into tightening her hold of the ether.
The phooka screeched in protest as it slid several feet closer to the gate.
Fortunately, the ether’s pull grew stronger as the goblin came closer to the portal.
Rather belatedly Mr. Hurst realized he was in danger of losing his protection.
He had been cowering behind the phooka, but now the mage hastily threw his own etheric bonds around the goblin, pulling it in the opposite direction.
For a moment the goblin stopped moving altogether.
Elizabeth poured still more energy into dragging the beast toward the portal.
Although it thrashed and fought, the creature moved once more toward the portal. Mr. Hurst continued to pull in the opposite direction. Elizabeth nearly giggled. They were playing tug of phooka.
As the goblin drew closer to the portal, its movement accelerated.
It moved faster and faster until it fairly flew through the portal, which swallowed the beast with an audible pop.
The phooka instantly appeared in the goblin world’s rocky landscape.
It turned back toward Hurst and emitted an earth-shattering roar before shaking itself, dog-like, extending its wings, and flying into the bright pink sky and out of view.
Banishing the creature had taken every ounce of Elizabeth’s energy, but that sight had made it worth it.
Black spots dotted her vision, and she nearly lost her grip on the tree branch, wrapping her arms around it just in time. Was this how magical depletion felt?
Her only remaining task was to close the portal, severing its connection to her so it would no longer drain her energy.
Elizabeth released her hold on the spell, letting the ether slide from her grasp, but it clung to her magic.
Even as she tried to cut the bond to the portal, she could sense the strange, alien ether clinging to her, drawing more and more power from her like a bleeding wound.
This is where hubris and inexperience have led me, she thought. I attempted a life-threatening spell without adequate preparation. But she could not bring herself to regret her actions. William and everyone else would be safe from the goblin.
She clung to that belief as darkness encroached around the edges of her sight. Her grip on the branch loosened; her fingers would not obey her commands. Then everything went black.
***
Darcy had turned toward the cherry tree just in time to see Elizabeth fall out of it onto the bushes underneath.
He started toward her, but Bingley grabbed his arm and shook his head.
Hurst still remained a threat. And then there was the matter of the portal.
Darcy did not know why it remained open, but hostile goblins could emerge at any time.
Well, the sooner Hurst was dealt with, the sooner Darcy could go to Elizabeth. He advanced on the mage with his sword out. “Surrender now and the Convocation will give you a fair trial.”
Hurst had lost his coat somewhere, and his linen shirt was soaked through with perspiration.
Tangled hair was plastered to his forehead under his hat.
The mage had the brick wall at his back, standing only a few feet from the portal.
“A fair trial?” he scoffed. “From the people I influenced with a suasion spell?” Darcy silently admitted the other man had a point.
“That is the best offer you will get,” Bingley growled from beside Darcy, flicking his sword with fierce, quick movements. Apparently he would not be quick to forgive his brother-in-law’s perfidy.
“The Council will surely vote to strip my powers and imprison me for the rest of my life.” An unpleasant wheedling tone had crept into Hurst’s voice.
“Perhaps you should have considered the consequences before choosing to tamper with people’s minds,” Bingley said coldly.
“I deserved the archmage position!” Hurst shouted. “It should have been mine.”
“I believe you have demonstrated the opposite,” Darcy said.
Hurst’s eyes darted from Bingley to Darcy, no doubt calculating an escape route.
Darcy sank into a fighting stance and pulled on strands of ether in preparation for combat.
He had never killed a human—only goblins.
But if it came to a battle, he wanted to be the one to kill Hurst; Bingley should not have to live with the memory of killing his sister’s husband.
But rather than launch into an attack, Hurst stared at the portal as if mesmerized.
Only then did Darcy notice that a thin thread of ether connecting Hurst through the portal to the goblin realm.
He cursed silently. Hurst was exhausted as the paladins, but his affinity for the goblin world apparently helped him replenish his power.
As the ether flowed into him from the portal, Hurst’s posture straightened, and he started to smile. Damnation! He had played for time so he could recover his energy. Bingley cursed softly under his breath as he had the same realization. “I should have killed him immediately,” Darcy murmured.
A cruel smile played about Hurst’s lips.
“The goblin realm is an inexhaustible source of power. I have drawn enough goblin essence into my body that I no longer need to kill goblins to tap into it. I have no desire to kill either of you—particularly not you my dear brother,” Hurst sneered.
“If you do not prevent me from escaping, I will allow you to live.”
For a moment Darcy was tempted—if for no other reason than that he needed to reach Elizabeth. But he could not be the person who loosed this powerful and twisted man on the world. With their energy severely depleted, Darcy doubted he and Bingley could stop Hurst, but they had to make the effort.
He exchanged a glance with Bingley and saw the same resolution in his friend’s eyes. “Paladins rarely die of old age,” he said with a shrug.
“I will give you one more opportunity to surrender,” Darcy said to Hurst.
The other man’s smile disappeared, and he snorted inelegantly. A rumble of thunder caused Darcy to glance up at the sky. The day had been bright and clear, but now there were heavy dark clouds hanging low over the Convocation complex. A thunderstorm in March? What was happening?
Hurst thrust out his arm, gesturing toward Convocation Hall. A lightning bolt appeared from nowhere to strike the hall’s roof. A loud crash suggested that part of the roof had caved in.
“Weather magic,” Bingley breathed. It was just as illegal as suasion and far more dangerous. Even rested and with all his energy reserves full, Darcy doubted he could fight weather magic. It would be useless to try in his current state.
Another lightning strike—much closer. A tree near the edge of the garden lit up briefly and then split down the middle, crashing to the ground in two pieces.