Page 34

REED

The moment the sorcerer appeared, the creatures’ shrieks fell silent, and they sat trembling in their floating cages, their eyes wide with fear.

Aldrich’s robes flowing behind him, their jailer glided across the water to stand at the golden prison’s door.

Before Reed could steady himself on the tree limb, the sorcerer had snapped his fingers and turned both Dulce and himself from ravens back into humans.

If the branch he rested on hadn’t been made of stone, Reed would most certainly have fallen into the water.

Not a notion he particularly admired, after the realization that the lake was full of what looked to be very lifelike human statues, and what he guessed were not statues at all.

Reed imagined falling, the cold dark water soaking his clothing, weighing him down, until he couldn’t swim, the drowned coming to life, their stone hands pulling him to his death, preventing him from rescuing Dulce…

Reed knew he was no match for the sorcerer. The puking lout, aside from being completely deranged with power, was centuries old and apparently had years of practice vanquishing his enemies.

Aldrich was not yet aware of his presence.

Reed’s only hope was to use the element of surprise to his advantage and create a diversion.

There would be only one chance to accomplish this.

He needed to do something to distract this sorcerer clotpole long enough to give Dulce a fighting chance to use her magic against him.

She was no longer outside the cage but imprisoned with the witch.

Reed frantically searched around, finding nothing but floating cages hanging well out of his reach, stone trees even the leaves of which proved unbreakable, water he had no interest in touching, and flame in wide basins.

He had to do something now —or it would be too late.

Climbing silently to the ground, Reed moved like a panther in the shadows toward the largest basin.

Aldrich’s attention fixed not on Marguerite but solely on Dulce, who he looked at as if she were an enticing meal.

Reed’s hands balled into tight fists at that.

They didn’t have much time before the sorcerer made some sort of decision, and whatever it was, it would not be advantageous to anyone but himself.

Reed freely admitted Marguerite’s life made his seem luxurious by comparison, yet he knew where his sympathy would lie if it came to a choice between helping the witch or helping Dulce.

Regardless of any hardship Marguerite endured, the fact nevertheless proved she was a woman willing to see the entire world destroyed as a direct result of her actions.

While Dulce was determined to put aside her grief and trials and do everything in her power to save the world around her, even at the cost of her life.

“I’ve been waiting for a fresh replacement,” Aldrich cooed, his voice resonating across the circle of water as if by some vaingloriously fashioned magic.

Though Dulce lingered inside the gilded cage, her expression remained resolute when she straightened her clothing and stood tall.

The sorcerer sniffed the air, his grin lascivious. “Your magic smells delicious. Fresh and young. You will do splendidly.”

What a fobbing lout , Reed thought while reaching the basin of flame, its sides large as a carriage.

Surprising him, Marguerite moved to stand protectively in front of Dulce, her stare like icy daggers when she faced Aldrich.

“No.” She gritted her teeth. “You will not harm Waverly’s child. If you do, I will never execute another spell for you again.”

The sorcerer’s chilling laughter echoed across the water, and the creatures cowered within their cages, a few whimpering at the sound.

“Do you actually believe I still need your spells?” Aldrich drawled, inspecting his nails in apparent boredom. “Pathetic, really. ”

Dulce wasn’t only resting her hands in her deep pockets—Reed could tell she was in fact studiously gathering some mysterious mixture from the many ingredients she always carried with her. He didn’t know how much time they had before the sorcerer put a chain around her throat as he had Marguerite.

Her hands stilled, and Reed knew that now was his chance to perform a distraction.

He pushed on the basin, and it moved slightly beneath the force. So, the mewling malt-worm hadn’t bothered to notice his garden wasn’t as well-built as a Glen tavern after all.

Reed prepared to topple the flames, his overcoat draped across one shoulder, ready to ignite.

“Hey, spongy toad barnacle!” he shouted, pushing the metal basin to the ground, where it crashed to the stone with an ear-splitting clang .

Aldrich turned, a comical look of surprise etched across his face, and Reed swung his overcoat into the fountain of sparks and guttering blaze, allowing the oil-soaked silk and fur to burst into flame.

While the churlish canker-blossom stared in dumb surprise, Reed sprinted across the lake’s submerged steppingstones and straight at Aldrich, spewing curses like a madman.

He planned on wrapping the sorcerer in his burning overcoat, but he didn’t make it that far.

Leaping at the man, Reed found that the sorcerer had vanished.

The burning overcoat became nothing but a hoard of charcoal moths, their wings covered in dying embers as they fell in slow spirals to the ground.

Reed spun to find Aldrich smiling in apparent delight, clapping his hands in a slow, mocking fashion .

But at his back, Dulce had carried out her magic.

The witch’s stone necklace and chain holding both her magic and her prisoner disappeared, along with the bars of the golden cage surrounding Dulce and Marguerite. As had all the rest above them, leaving the creatures sitting suspended above the water on mere platforms, free to fly to freedom.

They didn’t seem interested in escape, though. One by one, they stood, eyes blazing wrath while they honed their gazes on the sorcerer.

“Nice try, boy .” Aldrich curled his lip, sauntering toward Reed. “But your blood holds no magic.” He lifted his hand, and in a flash of red, some invisible force struck Reed in the chest like lightning, making him stumble backward, his vision blurring.

For a moment, Reed thought he was dead, until his sight cleared. He remained in place and patted his chest, where there was only a tear in his shirt, not his flesh. Dulce’s poisonous kiss, along with her spell, had spared his life.

“ So you’re protected,” Aldrich purred. “No matter. I have other ways of ending your life.”

Still unaware that right behind him, the sorcerer’s captives had been set free, Aldrich stalked toward Reed, his robes billowing in the night breeze.

“Did a slobbering worm such as yourself actually believe you could fight me and win?” he said with a sardonic laugh. “Why, it’s almost tragic…”

Reed raised his hands over his head as the sorcerer approached him, and, pretending to cower, he peered at Dulce from behind the safety of his fingers. She and Marguerite were frantically working on something between them, Dulce emptying her pockets onto the thick rug.

A crowd of magical creatures gathered on silent wings, their glowing eyes eerie over the rippling water as they alighted along the stone, prowling ever closer to their prey.

Reed needed to stall Aldrich, keep the craven barnacle’s attention on him, give Dulce more time.

He lowered his hands and smiled up at the sorcerer, who halted, frowning at his victim’s sudden change.

“I’ve been wondering since you arrived, is that robe drafty?” Reed asked, pointing. “Or have you got a bunch of woolen knickers underneath?”

The sorcerer blinked, opening his mouth, then closing it again. “ What ?”

“I mean, really,” Reed continued. “I imagine wool undergarments are quite itchy, especially on your sensitive territories. Is that why you’re so ill-tempered, and crotchety ? I’ve heard a cold-water soak with white vinegar can do wonders.”

“You seem to want to die slowly,” Aldrich seethed, his fury distorting his features to comical levels. Reed grinned wider.

“Now, silk, on the other hand.” Reed scratched his nose absentmindedly as he ate the dried fruit Dulce had lovingly placed in his pocket.

“Quite soft on the bits and bollocks, isn’t it?

Though I daresay no match for the winters you must get up here.

Fur lining might be a solution.” He wiggled his hand around, gesturing.

“Though it would hardly give it that villainous flare when you strut about, would it?”

With a roar, the sorcerer lunged at Reed, but like an angry mob, the creatures closed in on him, their claws tearing at Aldrich’s robes. Reed thought perhaps the fight was over, until he noticed the object of their disdain had dissolved into thick gray smoke.

Appearing on the opposite side of Reed, the sorcerer at last noticed Dulce and Marguerite.

They stood side by side, whispering while mist filled the ground between them, blue sparks passing along it, mimicking a tiny storm.

As the sorcerer raised his hands, light bathed the night, blinding Reed for an instant, and when he opened his eyes again, all three alchemists lay on the ground.

Half of the creatures had fled en masse, apparently deciding this fight wasn’t worth their long-awaited freedom.

“Dulce!” Reed rushed to her, gathering her into his arms. She was pale and still but breathing.

“You can’t die on me now, Highness. Not after everything we’ve faced to get here.

I still haven’t heard you play the piano, you know.

” Forgetting everything around him, he kissed her lips softly. “Please, Dulce. You have to wake.”

“I always wondered what it was like to be kissed awake,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering open. “Just like in the storybooks.”

Reed didn’t hesitate to kiss her again.

“Aldrich’s magic is trapped,” Dulce said against his lips. “I don’t know for how long…”