The Dark Calling (The Arcana Chronicles #5)(50)

“You can tell me anything.” His steady gaze reassured me. “Nothing you say can change how I feel about you.”

Here goes freaking everything. “I’m . . . the thing is . . . when I thought you were—”

“Hold on.” He held a finger over his lips.

I whispered, “What is it?”

“I think I hear a Bagger.” He shot to his feet, then pulled me to mine. His gaze darted as he readied his bow. “Over there.” He pointed out a pile of rocks a short distance away on the same bluff.

“Did it bury itself?” We knew from experience that they liked to burrow.

“It kind of looks like a makeshift grave.”

The rock pile rose and shifted, stones sliding off into the lake. A skeletal hand jutted up. Then another.

“Let’s go, Jack!”

He took aim with his bow. “Not till I kill it.” Naturally. Jack and Baggers.

Wait, was the creature waving at us? Almost like it was shooing us away. When its decomposed head poked up, ash-covered skin peeled from exposed bone. Couldn’t tell if it was male or female.

Was it my imagination, or did the Bagger’s one remaining eye look frantic? Wait. Sol was trying to communicate with us through this creature! “Don’t—” I slapped Jack’s arm just as he pulled the trigger. The arrow missed the Bagger’s forehead, hitting its throat.

“What the hell, Evie?”

I skirted past Jack, addressing the zombie: “Um, Sol?”

Loud groan and a nod.

“Are we in trouble?”

Nodding. Shooing. “Ohhhhhh. Oh. Oh.”

“Go?”

NOD.

I whirled around. “We’ve got to run, Jack!”

He grabbed my hand, and we tore off down the path.

“Kentarch!” I screamed. “Wake up!”

Halfway to the ground, Jack skidded to a stop, cocking his head. Eyes gone wide, he yelled, “INCOMING!”





22





A shrill whistle rent the night as a trail of light and smoke sped through the sky. A missile zoomed directly for the truck. Kentarch and Joules were still in the cab!

“WAKE UP!” I screamed again. No time left to run. I needed to close my eyes but couldn’t look away.

Just before impact, the truck vanished. “Yes! Go, Kentarch!”

The missile exploded into the side of the mountain. “Down, Evie!” Jack tossed me to the ground, shielding me. He grunted when rocks landed on his back.

“Jack! Are you okay?”

“Been better. Think my bowstring’s snapped.”

“Stop covering me,” I bit out from underneath him, my ears ringing. “Regenerate here, remember?” But would my kid?

Jack managed to get free of the rocks, shouldering his busted bow. As he helped me stand, a chopper came into view in the distance.

There was no mistaking that helicopter; the nose was painted to look like a dragon’s roaring mouth. “Zara’s here.” The earth rumbled beneath our feet. “And Richter.” Quakes always announced his presence.

“We’ve got to get through the pass before they block it.” Jack pointed out the narrow gap by the lake’s edge. “Can you run?”

I nodded, and we hurried down the stony path. Though Jack had a limp, he dragged me along, all but carrying me.

We’d just made it down to the lake’s edge when I spied a fiery light coming up through that pass. I slowed. “Oh, dear God.”

Richter. The King of Hell.

Not even a hundred feet away, he rode a wave of lava right toward us, blocking our only way out. Even taller than Jack, he was a no-neck bruiser, just as Circe had described. Fire wrapped around his naked body, shrouding him. His beady eyes were flame red.

Why hadn’t he simply bombed us or flooded this rock bowl with lava? As he continued closer, I made out two icons on his right hand: a moon for Selena and the Lovers’ overlapping triangles. He’d harvested their icon from the Archer—when he’d turned my friend to cinder.

Fury engulfed me, but I didn’t feel the quickening of my powers. I’d vowed to replace Richter’s laughter with screams. I’d dreamed about torturing him. Where were my powers?

“I finally get to meet the Empress of Arcana,” he said, his voice booming in the echoing crater.

Sweating from the heat, I raised my hands, managing a few scraggly vines. Once they reached Richter, they turned to ash. With a cry, I yanked my hands back. My spores and thorn tornado would simply disintegrate.

Richter smirked. “Is that all you’ve got, Empress? No wonder you hide behind Death’s coattails. Zara was right—you are the weakest of us all.”

Jack shoved me behind him. “Richter,” he bit out. “You destroyed my army. You murdered Selena. I’m goan to kill you slow.” He reached for his bow . . . only to drop his hand; must’ve remembered the broken string right as I did.

“Kill me, eh? How would you ever get close enough? I’m too strong and hot to die.”

Unless someone struck from afar. Where had Kentarch and Joules teleported to? This was a perfect opportunity to attack!

Jack had the same idea. He muttered in French, “Stall. Give them time to return.”

I demanded, “Why are you here, Richter?” Zara’s chopper had circled back. Was she looking for a place to land?