Chapter Eleven #2
Finn’s fingers curled protectively over the coin once more, and he gave me a sullen scowl. It was a sour expression that didn’t belong on his sweet, young face.
“I can help,” he insisted.
“I know you can, buddy,” I said, hoisting myself into a standing position by sheer will. “I’m just asking you to trust Andre and me. If this thing gets past us, you can take a crack at it.”
Which meant I just had to keep the thing from coming for us. I was lying to him by omission. The only reason that Finn would have to face the thing was if it stepped over my cooling corpse to get to him.
Finn hesitated for only a second longer. Then he beat a hasty retreat back to my room. Only then could I draw a sigh of relief. He was safe, or as safe as I could make him for the time being. Andre, on the other hand...
I had to lean sideways to see what he was doing, clutching onto the wall the whole time.
The scene in the room had changed, though not in the way I’d hoped.
Things were still tumbling through the air, but any time a lamp or a rug was sent flying in Andre’s direction, he struck out with the wand, and the projectile landed just shy of him.
The creature was a golden blur, pulsing an angry red-orange when it failed to bowl over its target.
I saw the baseball bat before Andre did.
I tried to cry out a warning. Tried to move in time before the bat could make contact with him, but I was in no shape to even walk.
He turned in time to meet the bat head-on, wand lifted.
The blow drove him back a few steps, legs wobbling beneath him as he tried not to trip over the shredded remnants of the carpet.
He was standing in a minefield, and one wrong move might drive him down to his knees.
There was a brilliant explosion of light when the wood of the wand met the aluminum of the baseball bat.
For just a moment, the thing blinked into existence.
For maybe one second. And it looked... well, it looked like a dragon, but in miniature.
It was short, stooped, and scaled with a set of leathery wings.
Maybe the size of a house cat. A subtle glow emanated from its hide, reminding me absurdly of summer fireflies as it flickered back out of the visible spectrum for another second.
When it returned, its long, sharp talons bit into the baseball bat, spitting sparks in Andre’s direction.
I felt, rather than saw, Finn fumble the potions into my hand.
“I’m going to help you, Mom,” he said as he wrapped his arm around me and helped me to my feet.
I didn’t argue. Instead, I uncorked the lid off the first potion and once we made it across the threshold into Finn’s room, I threw it, not even bothering to see which potion it was.
A moment later, the scents hit my nose, and I smiled with satisfaction.
Dragon’s Blood, frankincense, myrrh, and cinnamon.
Fiery Command Oil. A strong potion to be used with extreme care.
Imposing one’s will on another was tricky.
You had to have a strong disposition to begin with, and sometimes your will wasn’t enough.
My will was cast iron, now that this thing had targeted my family.
I could give this SOB the bum’s rush just like I had with Frank.
Except that wasn’t what happened. The potion didn’t arc across the room the way I’d hoped.
Instead, it erupted right before our eyes, forming a vapor that flickered through shades of scarlet and orange.
The vapor then wound like a snake before rearing up to strike at the unlucky creature beneath it.
The small, dragon-like thing terrorizing Andre let out a shrill cry as the vapor bore down on it.
The serpent-like stripe of color wrapped around its tail, dragging it off course. The bat swung out wildly...
And hit Andre in the back of the head. I watched in horror as he paused, swayed, and then collapsed to the ground.
I could barely pay attention to the ongoing battle between whatever creature I’d just unknowingly created and the thing that had attacked Finn and now Andre.
Instead, I pulled away from Finn then ran-walked-hobbled to Andre’s side and knelt, hands fluttering helplessly over him.
Should I move him? Was it possible the bat had broken his neck?
I wasn’t sure how long Finn yelled at me to get my attention back to him.
When I finally blinked out of my panicked haze, the room was still.
The sounds of screams and breaking furniture had gone silent.
There was just Finn’s labored breath and my hiccupping sobs.
I was dimly aware of the tears dripping off my nose.
They splashed onto Andre’s hair. I couldn’t see blood, but it didn’t matter.
This had been my fault. I’d been reckless and let my alchemy off its leash.
Whatever that vapor thing was, I hadn’t intended to create it.
It had just sort of… happened. And it had gotten Andre hurt, I was sure of it.
“Mom,” Finn said again. “I called 911. The lady on the other line says she needs to talk to you.”
A small flicker of pride thawed some of the ice in my stomach. Finn was such a smart, brave boy. And I wasn’t sure how to tell him that. My voice was locked beneath the desire to scream and I still felt like I was going to vomit.
I reached mechanically for the phone. My voice barely sounded like mine when I said, “I’m here. Tell me what to do.”