He smiled. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
I followed him into the trailer, pausing on the threshold to check back over my shoulder. I still saw nothing on his land; I hoped that was a good sign.
He changed clothes, which meant putting on a clean T-shirt and jeans. He even put on socks. In the meantime, I fixed us both sandwiches and poured a couple of glasses of orange juice. I hadn’t eaten since leaving the hospital that morning, which may have been why the moon was already affecting me so powerfully. I felt better after I’d downed my sandwich.
After he finished his, I cleaned up and turned to face him.
“How are you feeling?”
“Muddled,” he said. “The way I always do right before a phasing. And you’d be lying if you told me you weren’t feeling the same.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“So, you going to lock me in the bathroom?”
“So that I can spend the next ten Tuesdays doing repairs? No, thanks.”
He chuckled. “Good.”
“But, Dad, there’s something you should know. One of the dark sorcerers-”
“Car,” he said, staring past me toward the door. “Coming fast.”
“Damn.”
He started for the door, but I stopped him.
“Wardings first,” I said.
“Right.”
We each cast several spells in quick succession. I put every warding I could think of on both of us, and I felt his magic settling over me like a warm rain. He had done the same.
Once finished, we went back outside. He halted a few steps from the trailer, and stared at Amaya’s Lexus. “That yours?”
“One more long story.”
His mere glance conveyed so much disapproval I almost laughed. But then our gazes were drawn to the two SUVs bouncing down his rutted road and raising a plume of rust-colored dust. I had hoped that Amaya and the others would arrive here before Saorla and her friends, and it seemed that this once luck was on my side.
And then it wasn’t.
A figure winked into view a few yards from where we stood. Long brown hair twisting in the wind, a green dress, and a shawl around her shoulders.
Dad shot me a questioning look. But he didn’t get the chance to give voice to his curiosity. Several more people appeared behind Saorla. I made a quick count; there were eight in all. Hain was there, apparently fully healed from our encounter earlier in the day. Witcombe stood near him, as did Gary Hacker and four other guys I didn’t recognize. Clearly, Hacker and some of the others weren’t pleased by the company they were keeping. But my dad couldn’t tear his eyes away from the third woman in their group. The setting sun shone on her face, and glimmered in her warm brown eyes. I had wondered if my father would recognize her through the blur of her magic. I should have known better than to doubt.
“What is she doing here?” he whispered.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you a minute ago.”
“Elliott Hesslan’s daughter, right? I’m not imagining this?”
“You’re not imagining it.”
“Justis Fearsson,” Saorla said. “And Leander as well. Did you ever imagine that you would die together?”
“I know that voice,” my dad said, turning his gaze to the necromancer. “Who is she?”
“She’s your worst nightmare,” I said. “A runemyste without a soul.”
CHAPTER 23
The SUVs stopped some distance short of the trailer with a scrape of skidding tires on dirt and another billowing cloud of dust. The doors opened and several men got out. In addition to Amaya and Rolon, Paco and Luis, I thought I recognized a few of the others as well-maybe from the army of gun-toting guards I’d seen at Amaya’s house. But the four I knew were the only weremystes among them. The others were there as muscle. Heavily armed muscle. Every one of them, including Amaya, held a weapon in his hand. Several had MP5s, Rolon and Paco were carrying what looked like SIG Sauer 556 SWATs, and the rest had handguns-also SIG Sauer. I wondered if Amaya owned stock in the company.
“Who are they?” my father muttered. “Where the hell are all these people coming from?”
“I know them,” I said, speaking quickly, my voice low. “They’re here to help us.”
“They look like they’re here to cause trouble.”
He was right, they did.
Saorla made a sweeping gesture with her right hand and even out in the open air, I felt the frisson of magic on my skin. Amaya, Rolon, and the others went down like bowling pins. Their weapons were ripped from their hands, but rather than scattering on the desert dirt, the MP5s, SIG P220s, and SIG 556s rose into the sky, swirling as if caught in an eddy of air. Saorla raised her hand over her head and closed her fist slowly. The weapons began to gleam red, and I heard the dull, rapid pop, pop, pop of ammunition going off in the magazines.
She dropped her hand and the spinning weapons fell to the ground, now a circular mass of molten steel and plastic.
“I think we will not involve these firearms in our evening’s activities,” she said.
Those standing with her laughed.
My father rubbed his arms; I saw goosebumps on his skin. “That voice,” he said again. “She’s the one who spoke to me.”
“She’s also the one who tortured you. I hate her a lot.”
My dad glanced my way, and I made myself grin. Inside, though, I was reeling. The necromancer had cast her spells with ease. We were lucky she had chosen to disarm Amaya and his men rather than kill them. I assumed she and her weremancers wanted their blood. It seemed that Namid had been unable to convince his fellow runemystes to keep Saorla in check. If the myste had even tried.
Paco and one of the guards I didn’t know by name were the first of Amaya’s men to get back up. They helped the others to their feet, including Jacinto. Amaya caught my eye and I held up a hand, telling him to stay where he was. I didn’t know if Saorla would allow him to join my father and me near the trailer, but I liked the idea of Patty, Witcombe and the others having to fight on two fronts, as it were.
“There is much blood here,” Saorla said. “I am pleased. Thank you, Justis Fearsson, for inviting your friends to join us.”
“What is it you want with us?” my dad called to her, his voice hoarse. “What the hell are you doing on my land?”
“Dad-”
“I want nothing from you, Leander Fearsson. It is your son whose aid I seek. He knows what for. But I will admit that you showed more spirit than I had guessed a mad, enfeebled man might.” Her body and face rippled, like reflections in disturbed water, and a moment later she stood before us as my mother from the earliest memories I had of her. She wore a cornflower blue dress, and the crooked smile that still occasionally haunted my dreams. Honey brown hair fell in soft curls to her shoulders, and the color of her eyes had darkened from Saorla’s pale blue so that it matched the dress perfectly. I had remembered my mother as beautiful, but even so, I had not remembered her like this. It was magic, I knew: Saorla’s enchantment. But still I couldn’t avert my eyes. She was mesmerizing.
I heard a soft sob from my father, and I put an arm around his shoulders.
“Stop it,” I said, my voice as harsh as I could make it.
“Does your father want me to stop?” she asked, canting her head to the side, looking more alluring than any guy should ever see his mom look, even if she was an illusion.
I chanced a quick glance at my dad. He had closed his eyes and was muttering to himself in silence. “You know he does, Saorla. Now either take your true form, or go back to the lying hag we all know so well. But stop this.”
Her form wavered a second time, and the familiar Saorla glared at me through pale eyes. “You should be careful what you ask for, Justis Fearsson.”
Magic surged through the air again, and Hacker and one of the other men standing with Saorla let out sudden howls and fell to the ground, writhing, moaning.