Page 60

“How? It’s not like we can tunnel—” I stopped. We might not be able to—not without the right equipment and the possibility of destroying a good portion of our ghost’s house—but maybe the wild magic could.

“Exactly,” Monty said, obviously guessing where my thoughts had leapt. “If the wild magic intended to consume the entire damn O’Connor compound, that surely means it can shift a few meters of dirt and create a tunnel for us to drag Roger out.”

“It would certainly be one way of skirting the protections,” Ashworth said. “If—and that’s a big if—they haven’t countered the possibility. They’re obviously aware of Liz’s ability to use the wild magic.”

“In her spells, yes, but why would they suspect she can use it to manipulate the earth itself?” Monty countered.

“Right now, we dare not discountanypossibility.”

“Rather than us standing here arguing, let’s just ask.” I bent and pressed a hand against the ground. Power spun about my fingertips and the whispers immediately started, once again urging me to remove the stain on the earth. I cut through the noise and asked the question. There was a brief moment of silence, then they started again. Giving directions—orders.

As I withdrew my touch, another pulse ran through the dark weave of magic, and concern stirred. I frowned and wondered if it was a warning. We hadn’t touched the magic as yet, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t primed to react to proximity.

“Anything?” Monty asked.

I jumped a little and glanced up. “They’ll help, but have warned the ground here has become unstable thanks to the press of the magic and blood, and they cannot guarantee it will not collapse and take out some of the anchors.”

“We have to at least try,” Monty said. “There’s no guarantee that us attempting to dismantle the weave won’t set something nasty off anyway.”

“Might be wise if you—” I stopped and tilted my head to one side. A high-pitched, almost inaudible whining had just started, and it rather oddly seemed to be coming from the deeply threaded spell mass aheadandfrom somewhere beyond the house. “Do you hear that?”

Ashworth frowned. “Hear what?”

“I do,” Jaz said. “There’s a soft whine coming from the cellar and a louder response from somewhere outside.”

Another flicker ran through the tightly woven threads, a gentle pulse that suddenly reminded me of a beacon.

Oh,fuck…

“If there’s something here making a noise that’s beyond regular human hearing,” Monty was saying, “I’m thinking it’s not going to be a good thing. Maybe we should err on the side of caution and just?—”

“Out,” I cut in abruptly. “Everyone get out of this house.Now.”

No one argued. They just turned and ran. I bolted up the stairs after Monty, my heart beating a million miles a minute as the high-pitched whine grew closer, stronger, fiercer.

The protective net around Roger—or rather, the pulse runningthroughthe net—was calling to whatever the hell was speeding toward us.

And we’d set that beacon off when we’d flicked aside the shadow pin.

Fear lent my feet wings. I leapt over the final couple of steps, grabbed the doorframe to steady myself as I spun around the corner, and then bolted for the front door.

But the magic below was stirring, the whine now accompanied by a wave of magic that was much deeper and darker in intent.

Jaz leapt from the front door, clearing both the veranda and the steps. Belle, Ashworth, and Eli followed her through, racing down the steps and then on toward the front gate.

The whine was now so fierce it hurt my ears, the magic below stirring with enough force that it was shaking the house. Boards cracked under my feet, and I swore, reaching for more speed, racing down a hall that now seemed impossibly long.

But it wasn’t the hall.

It was me.

I was slowing. The thick waves rolling up from below were somehow snaring me, making it feel like I was running through glue. Magic flared within me but before I could react, Monty spun, tore the pack from his back, and drew his silver knife.Then he threw it, as hard as he could, into the floorboards. The magic recoiled, and I stumbled forward briefly. Monty caught my hand, and as one, we raced through the door and leapt off the veranda.

Just as the whine reached its peak and the goddamn house exploded.

Chapter

Eight