“This is what Niall took from Delaney’s wound yesterday. That’s what he wanted to get.” He set it on the table, the silver bead within it rolling with the motion.
“It’s mercury,” Alex said.
Zoë hiccuped and sucked her own fist, watching them solemnly.
“She’s been upset since the Pyr left,” Eileen said.
“No,” Sara corrected. “She’s been upset since Mallory showed up on the lip of the sink.”
“And she doesn’t want us to drink the coffee,” Thorolf said. “Kid’s a health freak.”
“That’s it!” Alex pushed to her feet.
“That’s what?” Thorolf asked.
“That’s what she’s trying to tell us.”
“What?” Thorolf asked, looking confused.
“What if mercury poisoning in people is what makes a Pyr become the source of the Elixir?” Alex asked. “What if Cinnabar is red and Delaney is turning red because of mercury poisoning? And what if the way to prepare a candidate to replace Cinnabar is to poison him with mercury?”
“What are you suggesting?” Sara asked.
“That Mallory was here to put mercury in the well, mercury that would turn all of the Pyr present into candidates to replace Cinnabar.”
“If they drank the water,” Thorolf said, then poured the contents of the pot down the drain.
“We’ve got to check the well,” Alex said, and headed for the basement.
“I wonder whether there’s bottled water,” Sara said, making for the pantry. “Ginger seems to be the kind of person who is prepared for everything.”
Zoë, Eileen noticed with surprise, had fallen asleep against her breast, her expression so angelic that she might have been a different child than the one who had raged for the past hour. “I could use a cup of decaf,” Eileen said, and Thorolf chuckled.
The fight outside the sanctuary had become more violent. Ginger watched as Sloane was slashed across one shoulder by Mallory and his red blood fell in a torrent, staining the snow. Sloane spun and attacked the shadow dragon behind him, slicing one arm at the elbow. The limb fell, splashing into the river far below, but there was no blood.
The shadow dragon didn’t even seem to notice the loss.
It just kept on fighting.
Jorge had sunk his teeth into Erik’s chest, leaving a nasty gash in the armor of the leader of the Pyr. Erik slashed at the Slayer, reopening his earlier wounds in systematic succession. Jorge breathed dragonfire at Erik, but Erik turned his back on the stream of fire. Ginger closed her eyes. To her surprise, Erik laughed and seemed strengthened by the attack. He turned and slashed Jorge across the face, then spun to decapitate the shadow dragon with one heavy slash of his talon.
Then Jorge leapt on Erik from behind, sinking his teeth into the shoulders of the leader of the Pyr. Erik screamed and lost altitude, and Ginger hung on in terror.
Niall was fighting hard against Phelan, that shadow dragon taunting him. Niall sliced one wing of the shadow dragon, cutting deep, and Phelan fell toward the earth. Niall swooped toward Erik, scooping Ginger from Erik’s grasp, then exhaled dragonfire at Jorge. Erik pulled out of his dive and attacked Jorge from behind, just as Balthasar slashed at Niall’s back. Niall fought hard but Ginger could see him fading.
It didn’t look good.
Ginger had time to panic when two more dragons appeared in the distance. They seemed to be heavily burdened and their flight pattern was both erratic and slow.
The brilliant hue of their scales soon became clear, and Ginger recognized them as Donovan and Quinn. They were carrying large plastic drums.
Ginger would have bet they contained nitric acid.
She wanted to cheer.
The Slayers and shadow dragons must have seen the Pyr coming, because they attacked with new fervor.
Balthasar attacked Niall again, the pair grappling as they tumbled through the air. Ginger felt a bit sick but Niall held fast to her, defending her from the Slayer’s dragonfire. When Niall shook free of the Slayer’s grasp, the claw that had been wrapped around her was burned and blackened.
Donovan dove into the battle with a roar. He dropped two heavy plastic canisters by the entry to the sanctuary, then spun in the air to help Sloane against Mallory. It looked as if he had metal talons, and Ginger winced as he slashed Mallory’s gut. Black blood flowed from the wounds, steaming as it dropped into the creek below.
Donovan slashed at the shadow dragon that had been attacking Sloane, dismembering the abomination with measured strokes. Sloane incinerated each piece as it fell to the earth and soon there was nothing left but ash of that shadow dragon.
He turned to attack Phelan, but the shadow dragon snarled and retreated. “I will find you, brother!” he cried to Niall.
“Not unless I find you first,” Niall murmured with heat. He decked Balthasar, then began to sing loudly. The wind mustered on cue, responding more quickly to Niall’s summons than it had the first time.
Ginger knew the import of that yellow-tinged sky. The storm was raised with alarming speed, but the shadow dragons and Slayers seemed unaware of its approach.
Or indifferent.
Phelan was the first to be sucked into the maelstrom, his shadowed form disappearing into the swirling gray of the funnel cloud. His shout was lost in the wind, as Niall continued to sing, his voice as resonant as a clarion call.
Meanwhile, Jorge came raging upward toward Erik, fury making his eyes blaze. Erik, confident and calm, waited for him, looking amused even in dragon form. Ginger saw Jorge falter, look for what he had missed, then spot the funnel cloud.
Jorge shouted a warning and dove down into the trees. Balthasar bolted, flying as quickly as possible in the opposite direction of the gathering storm. Mallory screamed as he tried to disengage from Sloane’s claws without success. Sloane held fast, thrashing the Slayer repeatedly with his tail.
The funnel cloud swallowed those who fled. Ginger heard the screams of Balthasar and the other shadow dragon as the powerful column of wind touched down to the ground. It swirled and churned, giving her glimpses of claws and tails.
Niall sang and sang as the wind swirled to his command. Sloane cast Mallory into the swirling maelstrom, then Niall softened his song. The wind eased almost instantly, Niall’s power filling Ginger with awe.
The funnel cloud receded and the clouds turned a normal stormy gray. It began to rain as the trees stopped tossing. The rain was icily cold and Ginger shivered under its assault.
Jorge erupted suddenly from the forest, his every move filled with anger and purpose. Two new Slayers took flight from Magnus’s compound, heading directly toward the Pyr.
It wasn’t over yet, and the Pyr were tired. Ginger held on to Delaney’s mother’s cross and said a little prayer.
Chapter 20
Delaney finally got a good strike on Magnus, catching the Slayer by surprise. Magnus hit his head against a stalactite and lost the rhythm of flight.
This was his chance.
Delaney pivoted in the air as the Slayer fell and dove for the vial instead of his opponent. He summoned every vestige of strength within himself as he spiraled toward the stacked fertilizer. He exhaled mightily, intending to breathe a torrent of dragonfire to ignite the blast.
But he exhaled only air.
Cold air.
How could that be?
Delaney turned at the last minute, heading for the vial again. He fought the panic rising within himself, refusing to admit defeat. He drew from the core of his strength, willed the fire to burn hot and bright, and aimed at the bags of fertilizer.
Once again, only cold air flowed from his lungs.
That was when he heard Magnus laughing.
The old Slayer laughed so hard that he could barely speak. He braced himself against the wall of the cavern and howled with his amusement.
Delaney didn’t appreciate the joke.
He landed on top of the fertilizer, not caring whether he was eliminated in the blast, and r
aged.
The cold air from his lungs seemed to encourage the growth of hoarfrost on the outside of the crystal vial. The Elixir swirled and Delaney glared at Magnus.
“Your fire is extinguished,” the Slayer said, his confidence so complete that Delaney wanted to shred him alive. “It’s the next step in the progression. You’re almost mine.”
Delaney leapt from the pile and flew at Magnus, furious as he had never been before. They locked talons and tumbled through the air, landing on the floor of the cavern with a crash. Delaney struck the Slayer with his tail until Magnus collapsed, then dragged the Slayer’s body toward the fertilizer.
Maybe Magnus would exhale the necessary spark.
The old Slayer was bleeding black all over the floor, weakening steadily. Delaney taunted him, trying to draw his fire, but Magnus fell silent. He apparently was unable to move.
Delaney was certain he hadn’t hit him hard enough for this. But Magnus looked as if he were having a heart attack. His eyes widened as he gasped in pain, and his features contorted. A spasm shook his body and he seemed unable to speak, his claw outstretched to Delaney.
Delaney had no mercy to spare for Magnus. He scanned the chamber, desperate for some way to ignite the fertilizer.
Magnus meanwhile exhaled steadily and slowly, filling the cavern with the haze of his dragonsmoke. It was silvery, like a snake, and it wound through the air toward Delaney so deliberately that it might have had a target. He wasn’t worried about it as much as he would once have been, given that he’d been able to endure it for Ginger.
Until the dragonsmoke touched him.
The dragonsmoke hit Delaney like a jolt of electricity, and he screamed at the pain that rocketed through his body. The smoke stung and burned, like a dagger of ice that went straight to his heart. His ability to challenge it had eroded to nothing, and he was more vulnerable than ever.
His body was changing, and not in a good way.
Delaney saw the dragonsmoke make a conduit between himself and Magnus, and felt the steady reduction of his energy as Magnus grew larger. The Slayer rose to his feet once again, brushing off his injuries, his eyes gleaming as he watched Delaney stumble. The smoke sucked at Delaney’s power, stealing it and feeding it to Magnus, reversing the balance of power between them. Delaney struggled to get away from the dragonsmoke, to break the line by which it destroyed him, but it was unshakable. He backed into the wall of the cavern and fell to his knees.
And Delaney saw the hole in his own armor, the dragonsmoke winding into it with merciless precision.
He was missing a scale in the middle of his chest, one that hadn’t been missing before. He saw the exposed skin, unprotected and already burned bright crimson, and knew what had happened.
He had already come to care for Ginger, but his affection and admiration had only weakened him.
Fatally.
He wanted to fight. He wanted to rise up and rip Magnus apart. He wanted to destroy the Elixir. But his body failed to respond to his command and the dragonsmoke steadily claimed the power within him. He was already on his knees, then braced himself on all fours. The dragonsmoke encircled him, surrounded him, isolated him, and sucked him dry.
It wasn’t the Elixir that would be destroyed.
It would be Delaney.
The quicksilver was stifling the divine spark within him. He was leaving the land of the living Pyr, destined for some dark realm occupied by shadow dragons and pawns like Cinnabar. He had no choice over his future, though he wanted one desperately.
Was this how Cinnabar had felt?
Delaney wanted nothing in common with the Pyr who had become the Elixir. He hoped only that he would be unaware of his circumstance.
For Magnus’s plan seemed destined to come to perfect fruition, ensuring the Slayers’ survival and power for millennia into the future. Delaney wanted to scream in frustration but he collapsed instead, his eyes closing to the peal of Magnus’s laughter.
He shifted shape, without meaning to do so, and recognized it as a sign of his body’s demise. He felt a tear slide from his eye as Magnus shifted to human form beside him. He tried to rouse himself, without success, then Magnus bent. Delaney saw the syringe and felt the needle slide into his vein.
He felt the cold shock of quicksilver moving through his body, turning him to deadened ice like the earth in his nightmares. The mercury stole his strength and numbed his mind, making it impossible to defend himself.
“Just a taste,” Magnus murmured. “Just a little sample of what is in store for you in 2013.”
No doubt about it, Delaney had failed.
And his only regret was that he hadn’t kept his promise to Ginger.
Delaney felt Magnus put a round stone in his mouth, but couldn’t stop him. He was powerless to move. He then heard the old Slayer chant a verse that he couldn’t understand. It wound its way into his ears, slithering toward his heart, turning him to ice like Gaia in his nightmare. He was failing in his quest and abandoning Ginger.
The worst part was that there was nothing he could do about it.
Donovan began to sing a different song than Niall’s, a potent tune that seemed like a call to war. Ginger could almost feel the earth responding to his battle cry. Her own blood pounded in rhythm, making her believe that victory was possible.
“Can Donovan command the wind, too?”
“He can summon weapons from the elements,” Erik said, just as pellets of ice began to fall from the sky. They slanted down upon the fight, and Ginger cried out at their impact. The pellets could have been little arrows of ice.
The Slayers in the distance lost altitude and seemed to hesitate beneath the assault of the elements.
Donovan seized Jorge from behind, digging those metal talons into the Slayer’s wings as he continued to sing. Jorge pivoted with a snarl and Donovan struck him open-clawed across the face. Four long cuts appeared, black blood falling fast. Jorge screamed and Donovan flung the Slayer across the sky.
The two other Slayers decided to retreat.
Ginger cheered.
One of Donovan’s canisters rolled down the sloped entry and Sloane moved to give the second a nudge. Quinn landed with his cargo, more deliberate in his actions. The Pyr landed beside the entry to the sanctuary, the new arrivals less wounded than those who had fought longest. They were all well, though, and Ginger was glad to feel the ground beneath her feet again. She thanked Erik and Niall for their protection, and they each nodded acknowledgment.
“Phase two,” Quinn said, pushing one of his canisters into the opening. It rolled down the hidden slope, into the darkness below.
Then both Sloane and Quinn twitched.Ginger knew what their involuntary starts meant. “There’s dragonsmoke!”
“I smell it,” Niall said, backing away.
“Magnus,” Erik murmured, and Ginger remembered Delaney telling her they could identify who had breathed a territory mark.
“It’s coming from inside the sanctuary,” Sloane said.
Ginger was frightened. “Is Delaney in there?”
The Pyr didn’t answer, which was all the answer she needed. She headed for the opening, but Erik caught at her arm.
“The Slayers will target you.”
Ginger shook off his grip. “None of you can go in there to help Delaney, right? None of you can cross the dragonsmoke, but I can. You need me to move those drums and pour that acid into the Elixir.” Again they said nothing.
“Don’t you?”
Erik visibly gritted his teeth and nodded once. “The risk, though . . .”
Ginger didn’t wait for further discussion. There was nothing they could do to change her mind, and Ginger suspected they didn’t have another answer.
Because she was right.
And even Erik knew it.
She was halfway down the chute when she heard another song begin.
Rafferty waited until Magnus was confident of his victory before he revealed himself. He knew that as soon as he made a sound, the
Slayer would be aware he had been tricked, and he didn’t want to do it too soon. He heard Magnus fall, heard him laugh, sensed the unfurling of dragonsmoke.
Then he crept from his hiding place.
He was shocked to see Delaney not only down, not only surrounded by dragonsmoke, but immobile. He feared the Pyr was dead and concluded he had waited too long. Magnus, in contrast, had become large and powerful again, fueled by the conduit of dragonsmoke.
He was adept at stealing the life force of others. Rafferty turned the black and white ring on his hand, wondering how many Magnus would sacrifice to his own dream of immortality. He turned the ring and he wished for Sophie’s clarity in knowing what to do. He turned the ring and he wished for Nikolas’s focus and determination. He turned the ring and he wished for Delaney’s powerful heart.
Then he interrupted Magnus’s charm.
Magnus spun to face Rafferty then, so triumphant that his features seemed lit from within. His selfishness and indifference to anyone other than himself awakened a rare rage in Rafferty. “It’s too late!” he crowed.
“It’s never too late,” Rafferty retorted.
Rafferty leapt into the sanctuary, shifted in midair, and roared. He flew toward Magnus, the ring like a radiant beacon on his talon. It spiraled around his finger, flashing black and white as it turned. The Elixir stopped swirling and Cinnabar seemed to press his snout against the rock crystal to watch.
And the two old adversaries locked talons in battle again.
The challenge was only half done.
They thrashed each other with their tails and Rafferty threw the old Slayer into the wall of the cavern. The rock shook, and Rafferty began to sing, not caring if he brought the whole world down on Magnus. He’d die happily himself, knowing he’d killed Magnus.
Rafferty sang and the earth jumped. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, shattering on the ground and raising a cloud of dust. The Elixir sloshed and vibrated, but the vial held firm. Magnus fought viciously, perhaps sensing Rafferty’s determination. He sank his teeth into Rafferty’s hide, tearing the flesh wherever he could. He slashed with his talons and struck with his tail. The blood flowed both black and red, mixing but never mingling, sizzling on the floor of the sanctuary. The floor heaved and buckled, long cracks opening across its width.