Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) Brad Magnarella (the red fox clan TXT) đź“–
- Author: Brad Magnarella
Book online «Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) Brad Magnarella (the red fox clan TXT) 📖». Author Brad Magnarella
“Gretchen, listen,” I said. “I didn’t know there was anything in the—” I made a feeble gesture toward the shards of casserole dish. “I thought you were going to hurt—” I cocked my head at Bree-yark.
Gretchen didn’t respond. She just continued to stare, arms above her head as if she were still holding the dish. A dollop of gunk fell from her fingers. When my right calf warmed, I looked down to find that the lantern had followed me into the kitchen and was peering out at Gretchen from behind my leg.
“Hey, maybe we should split,” Bree-yark whispered.
That would have been the smart move, but I still needed Gretchen’s help. I drew a steadying breath.
“Before you do anything, I want you to hear me out,” I said. “The senior members of the Order are trapped in the Harkless Rift. Claudius tried, but he can’t reach them. There’s a good chance a demon is involved. The same demon has been using a time catch to manipulate energies so he can breach our world.” Gretchen squinted slightly, but I wasn’t sure whether that was something to be encouraged by. “I’m convinced that the answer to how to defeat the demon and free the Order is in the time catch.”
I’d made up the last part. With Gretchen lacking a sentimental bone in her body, I didn’t dare tell her that my true motivation was to recover my teammates. But my magic stirred long enough to give a pair of hard nods.
Holy crap, I thought, I’m onto something.
Gretchen might have felt it too, because she slowly lowered her arms.
“The fae helped me into the time catch the last time,” I said, “but I can’t reach them now. I need your help.”
“You want me to help you?”
Her voice was so calm, it was creepy.
“Yes, to get back into the time catch.”
Gretchen propped her chin on a fist now as though considering the question. The gesture sent a slab of food sliding from her head and splattering to the floor. Why she didn’t remove the pile, I had no idea—it would have been as simple for her as snapping her fingers. But why did Gretchen do half of what she did?
“Let’s see, he breaks up my relationship…”
“I lent an ear more than anything,” I interjected.
“That’s true,” Bree-yark offered from beside me.
“He breaks into my house…”
“I didn’t break in, Claudius sent me.”
“He breaks a casseruola di ricotta over my head…”
“That you were about to break over Bree-yark’s,” I pointed out, growing testy. I didn’t have time for this crap.
“And now he wants me to help him.”
“Yes, and just so you know, I covered your bill for Vander Meer’s while you were away.” I was referring to her shopping spree at the Dutch furniture store. “That set me back almost three grand. I’m willing to call it even if you—”
“He wants me to help him,” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said, standing firm. “Look, I’m sorry about showing up like this and for the situation with your … casseruola, but this is bigger than any of that. Much bigger. If we don’t stop the demon master, Faerie will be threatened too.”
“Faerie?” She made a scoffing sound.
“It may already be happening,” I said, sheathing my sword back in the cane.
I was riffing off what Arnaud had suggested, which was never a good idea, but if Gretchen had one soft spot, it was her infatuation with the place. Faerie for her was like Disney World for a princess-obsessed preteen. But Gretchen maintained a look of deep skepticism, fists set against her ample hips.
I exhaled hard through my nose. The Order was trapped in the Harkless Rift, the Upholders were stuck in the time catch, a major demon was plotting an attack that could lead to a full-scale demon apocalypse, and the one person who could help was looking at me like I was something she’d curb-scraped off her shoe.
With a hand sign, I opened a small portal to my cubbyhole.
“Here,” I said, reaching inside and withdrawing a thick book of maps. I flipped to the page I’d marked with a receipt from Mr. Han’s and held it open toward her. “The time catch is here. This is where I need to go.”
“Is that right?” she said flatly.
“Can you help me? Yes or no.”
Gretchen looked from me to Bree-yark, her lips drawing into a scowl, then down at the lantern. The light source scooted further behind my leg. When Gretchen’s eyes returned to mine, her irises were changing colors.
Crap, she’s gathering magic.
I tossed the book back into the cubby hole. As the portal shrank around it, I drew my cane into sword and staff again. Gretchen’s eyes were twin kaleidoscopes now, the ever-shifting sequence of colors and patterns creating an effect almost as mesmerizing as it was scary.
“C’mon, Everson,” Bree-yark whispered, tugging at the back of my coat.
But I couldn’t pull my gaze away, even under the protection of my neutralizing potion. Gretchen’s magic stalked slowly around me now: probing, sniffing, prodding.
“You want my help?” she asked.
“Everson.” Bree-yark tugged harder this time.
Even the lantern was butting my leg, trying to herd me from the room. But I remained rooted to the spot, unable to do anything but stare into my teacher’s eyes. Because beyond their dizzying power, I sensed a promise. A dangerous promise, maybe, but a promise.
“Yes,” I heard myself answer.
Her kaleidoscopic irises contracted to points. In the next moment they pounced.
Powerful colors exploded through me, and the kitchen disappeared beneath a mind-reeling series of images. Some of them I recognized as flashes from my past; others were entirely foreign. I tried to decipher them, but they were cycling through
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