Wildfire (Hidden Legacy #3)(113)

She danced and danced, striking a quick rhythm, bending forward, then straightening again. As her feet moved, the tornados lost power. They spun slower and slower, breaking free of the ground, until finally they dissolved into the sky. The storm clouds tore open, revealing the first light of the sunrise.

Adeyemi smiled, lay on the grass on her back, and fell asleep.



A forest of swords studded the lawn. The tornado had picked up Sturm’s collection and seeded the grounds with them. For some freaky reason, all of the blades landed point down and now rose at a diagonal, like razor-sharp mutant flowers.

Rogan was holding me. He’d refused to let go of me and so we stood together, watching the flurry of activity on the lawn of Sturm’s fortress.

To the left my mother was trying to administer some first aid to Grandma Frida. Grandma Frida didn’t want to be aided.

“Will you stop fussing over me?’ Grandma Frida pushed my mother’s hand away.

“Be quiet, mother. You’re bleeding.”

Around us Lenora Jordan’s people were processing the scene. They had already taken Sturm off, bound, gagged, and sedated. Lenora was still here, fully clothed now, striding through the scene and shouting orders in a crisp voice.

Sturm’s people sat on the ground in handcuffs. Two psionics moved between them, broadcasting calm and happy thoughts. A helicopter had taken Catalina out of the area just before the storm broke, and faced with the several dozen hardened mercenaries crying and wailing because she was gone, Lenora Jordan resorted to the big guns and brought in psionics.

A few feet away from us, Rynda was trying her best to take care of Edward. He slumped on the ground, against the trunk of his cypress. Growing the massive beast of a tree must’ve taken every last reserve he had. The expression on her face wasn’t just concerned, it was tender.

An armored vehicle drove through the hole Romeo had made and stopped. The door opened, Rivera jumped out, and held the passenger door open, holding it deferentially. Brian Sherwood emerged into the light. Same height and build as Edward, broad shoulders, sturdy frame, long limbs. He looked like his brother and at the same time he looked nothing like him.

“Rynda,” he called out. “Oh my God, Rynda. Here you are.”

She turned and glared at him like she saw a snake.

“I missed you so much!” Brian started across the lawn toward his wife. He didn’t know that we were aware of his betrayal.

“Nobody told him?” I murmured.

“No.” The smile on Rogan’s face was frightening.

Rynda rose, her spine perfectly straight, her face iced over, every inch her mother’s daughter.

“Did you miss me?” she asked, her voice as cold as a glacier.

Brian halted. “Yes.”

“I missed you too, Brian. I endured so much while you were gone.”

He took another tentative step forward. “It’s okay. I’m here now. Everything will be okay now.”

“Yes.” Rynda started toward him. “It will. I’m so glad you are here, Brian. Let me share with you everything I’ve been through.”

Magic lashed out of her in a torrent, so potent, I felt it from yards away. Terror, panic, despair, anxiety, worry, crushing sadness, and rage. So much rage. It merely brushed me and I nearly cried just to release the pressure.

Brian shuddered. His mouth gaped open. He crumpled to his knees.

“Stop! Rynda, stop!”

She kept walking, her face merciless. “Why aren’t you running away now, Brian? Are you stressed out yet?”

“Please stop! Please!”

“You wanted to murder me and the children. You wanted us dead. Our children! You should’ve shot me in my sleep, Brian. Because now, I will make you suffer. Feel, husband. Feel every drop.”

Tears streamed down his face. “Stop! Stop, you fucking bitch, stop!”

“No.”

Brian turned bright red, his eyes crazed. He jerked up, his face a furious grimace, and charged at Rynda, his hands stretched out toward her throat. Edward Sherwood lunged in his way, a huge sword in his hands. The blade rose and came down with awful finality. Brian Sherwood crashed to the ground, blood soaking his clothes. Edward raised the sword, thrust it straight down through his brother’s chest, and twisted it with a sharp tug.

Everyone stood completely still.

Edward straightened, his face impassive, like a medieval knight over the body of his enemy. “House Sherwood has resolved its internal conflict,” he said. “We are now whole.”





Epilogue




The arena of trials lay in front of me, a cavernous room with a clear space two hundred feet long and one hundred feet wide at its center, ringed by rows and rows of seats. Bern, Catalina, Arabella, and I stood at its edge. Midway down, a podium was placed to the side, like a referee’s chair. The Keeper of Records stood at it. To the right and left of him, three chairs waited on each side. Six people sat in them, the Primes who served as the arbiters of the trials. One of them was Sylvester Green, the current head of the Assembly. Two seats down from him sat Lenora Jordan, the Harris County District Attorney. She looked surprisingly serene, not peaceful, but imperturbable, as if nothing in this world could get a rise out of her right now. Between the arbiters, flanking the podium, our two witnesses stood, Rogan on one side and Linus Duncan on the other. “You will do fine,” Rogan had told me before walking out there.