Jared whipped around again, responding to the Gray Lady’s voice.
She was running—running!—toward a break in the trees a little ways downstream from the bridge.
Jared watched her for a moment in frozen disbelief. Then, swearing viciously as he gave in to instinct, he took off after her, counting on his longer legs, the difference in their ages, and her inexplicable moontime to stop her from doing something courageously foolish.
She must have used Craft somehow to make her knee work as if it were fully healed. And, Mother Night, she had speed!
In that moment, when he knew he wouldn’t catch her in time, he would have admired her if he hadn’t been so furious with her.
Instead of scrambling down the slope to the water’s edge, she lengthened her stride for the last few paces and made a Craft-enhanced leap, flying over the sloping dry land and new shallows. As she neared the middle of the creek, a blast of power struck her, spinning her round and round, smashing through the Craft she’d used.
She hit the water on her back and disappeared.
Thera’s voice, shrill and furious, filled Jared’s mind in the same instant the Gray Lady hit the water. *Don’t use Craft! Don’t use Craft! There’s a spell here that twists it and turns it back on you!*
Jared veered to the right, downstream, pushing himself harder. Using Craft, he could have lifted her out of the water as soon as he caught sight of her and floated her to dry ground. Instead all he could do was try to get ahead of her and think of something then.
He plunged down the slope, grabbing at trees to stay on his feet. As soon as he had a clear view of the creek, he stopped and scanned the water, looking for some sign of them. He spotted Corry thrashing helplessly, slowly drifting toward the tangle of branches and debris.
Slowly. As if something was holding the boy back. As if someone’s feet were digging into the creek bottom.
Damn that woman. This wasn’t a chess game!
Muttering vile promises of what he was going to do when he finally got his hands on her, Jared looked around for something, anything he could use to reach them. Then he bared his teeth in a feral smile.
Like to like.
If he couldn’t use Craft to help, he would play the game by the enemy’s rules and use it to destroy.
Raising his right hand, he aimed for the ground in front of a slim, tall tree that stood at the water’s edge several yards downstream and unleashed the Red.
The ground around the tree exploded, tearing out part of its roots before his Red strength rebounded, heading straight for him.
Jared dove, rolling the rest of the way down the slope.
The blast of power sizzled over his head, tearing up the ground where he’d been standing.
Cautiously raising his head, Jared watched the tree topple into the creek. Still tethered to the land by what was left of its roots, it bounced on top of the water.
Scrambling to his feet, Jared plunged into the water, cursing as his feet tangled in submerged undergrowth. Once he pulled free, he swam across the current, fighting to reach Corry.
It took seconds, seemingly centuries for him to reach the middle of the creek. He pulled his legs under him and planted his feet to test the water’s depth. It broke against his shoulders.
Too long, Jared thought as he ducked under the water, clamped his hands around the Gray Lady’s waist, and yanked her to the surface. She’s been under too long.
She gasped for air, swallowed water, and choked. Jared swore as he wormed one arm between her belly and Corry's back to hold her up. At least he didn’t have to worry about losing Corry. She could barely breathe, and her arms were still wrapped so tightly around the boy it was going to take a couple of strong men to pry him away from her.
She coughed up water, and Jared swore again.
“Breathe, damn you, breathe!” Jared shouted at her. “You are not going to die just to get out of a fight!”
“Sounds fair,” she gasped.
Relieved that she could breathe enough to talk, Jared’s arm tightened around her until she squeaked.
“We’re going to play hop frog,” Jared said, working to keep his voice calm while his instincts shivered a warning that some terrible danger was coming closer.
“I am not going to jump over your shoulders,” she growled.
“Not leap frog. Hop frog. Didn’t you play any games when you were a girl?”
“You can’t hop if you can’t touch the ground.”
“The tallest one hops. The shorter ones just hang on for the ride. I used to do this all the time with my little brothers when the creeks were running high. It’s fun.” And thank the Darkness Reyna had never found out about it.
“Only a boy would think a stupid, dangerous game was fun.”
“Lady, you’ve got a lot of brass to call anything anyone else does stupid or dangerous.”
He made the first hop before she could sputter a reply, letting the current push them a ways before planting his feet again. On the second hop, his foot slipped and they all went under. Since the Lady was too busy coughing and cursing him to say anything useful, he hopped again.
They reached the toppled tree on the fourth hop.
Jared grabbed the tree to keep his balance while he started to walk them toward the bank.
“Jared!” Blaed rushed down the slope to the water’s edge. Bracing himself against the tree, he waded in far enough to yank Corry out of the Gray Lady’s arms. “We’ve got to get out of here. Thera says a spell’s been triggered and the power feeding it is going to hit this place anytime now.”
Hell’s fire, Mother Night, and may the Darkness be merciful.
They scrambled for the bank.
“I brought the saddle horses,” Blaed said. “The others took the wagon and will get as far away as they can before it hits.”
“Go,” Jared said as soon as Blaed reached dry ground.
Blaed didn’t bother to answer. Carrying Corry, he climbed the slope as fast as he could.
Jared half carried the Gray Lady the last few steps to the bank and didn’t think it strange that she was struggling so hard until she tried to take a step up the slope and almost fell.
“Go,” she said, trying to push him away while balancing on her left leg. “Go.”
“Feather-brained, mule-headed woman,” Jared growled as he ducked under her batting hands and hoisted her over his shoulder. “Stop squirming, or you’ll get us both killed.”
“I can—”
“Shut up,” Jared said in a deceptively mild tone that no one but a blithering idiot—or a Queen—could have failed to understand.
Her breath came out in an angry hiss.
Choosing to interpret that as agreement, he scrambled up the slope.
“I told you to go,” Jared said when he reached the top and saw Blaed holding both horses, waiting for them.
“Why should he take orders any better than you do?” the Gray Lady muttered against his back.
Jared set her down too hard next to the bay gelding. Her gasp of pain hurt him, but he didn’t allow himself to think about it as he tossed her into the saddle and swung up behind her.
There wasn’t time to think about anything.
As soon as Blaed swung up behind Corry, they kicked the horses into a gallop and raced across the field, angling toward the road.
How much time did they have? And how would the spell unleash? Would it radiate from a central point or just fan out on this side of the creek? The damage a psychic unleashing could do would depend on the strength of the person who had fed the spell. His and the Gray Lady’s inner barriers should be able to hold against that kind of unleashing, but the others might not survive it. If the spell manifested in some physical way . . .