in those terms, but he probably wasn’t too far off base. And I knew he meant it protectively, but my safety was secondary. Our first—and only—priority was keeping Mallory away from the
Maleficium
.
I faced Ethan. “I still stand Sentinel of Cadogan House,” I reminded him. “I’ll do what it takes to keep you safe.”
“Merit—”
“Ethan,” I quietly, but sternly, interrupted. “
I
have to do this, and you know it. I can’t stand around and let other people fight this battle for me. I have more honor than that. You wouldn’t have let me stand Sentinel otherwise.” But was it honorable? I was helping set up my best friend for an ambush. Sure, I wanted to throttle her and scream at her, but I didn’t want her hurt.
“How exactly are you going to stop her?” I asked Todd.
“We’re gnomes,” he said. “Skilled warriors.”
“Could you not kill her? Please?”
Todd blinked at me, that simple action showing me exactly how stupid he thought that was. “We’re gnomes, not humans.” He cast a telling glance at the sword at my side. “Our goal is to keep her out of the silo, not put her in the ground. If we best her, she’ll have no choice but to submit to us. It’s a rule of civilized combat.”
It might be a rule of civilized combat, but I seriously doubted Mallory had taken any classes in that.
Our roles decided, Todd joined his company of troops, and they began to take their positions. Their departure left Ethan and me alone. It took a moment of courage before I could look back at him. I hadn’t exactly given him a chance to speak his piece.
It went pretty much as poorly as I’d expected. His eyes were glassy green, and magic rolled off his body like an angry tide.
I knew he wasn’t angry at me, not really. He was afraid. Afraid that I’d be injured, or that I’d sacrifice myself to save Mallory. I couldn’t eliminate his fear, and I couldn’t prevent the violence that would likely come to pass, but maybe I could remind him that he’d prepared me for it.
“You know, you’re the one who trained me to stand Sentinel. To be a warrior. At some point, you have to trust that I was payingattention.” My tone was lighthearted, and it was precisely the wrong course.
He grabbed my arm—hard. And in his eyes was a sudden storm of fear and anger. “You will not sacrifice yourself because of her.”
I could all but see his temper rise. Was this about Mallory? The overflow of her magic?
My arm ached beneath his fingers. “I don’t have any intention of doing that,” I assured him, wiggling my arm to free myself. But he wouldn’t budge. His fingers tightened.
“Distract her if you must, but let them bring her down. This isn’t your fight. It’s hers, and she has enough to answer for without adding your name to the rolls.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “Now relax and let go of my arm. You’re hurting me.”
His eyes widened, and he froze, then pulled his hand back and stared at me, horror in his eyes. “My God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I rubbed my arm absently.
He looked at me and opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late for more words.
“The eagle has landed,” called out one of the gnomes.
It was like something from
The Wizard of Oz
. Out of the swirling clouds dropped a giant glowing orb as large as a compact car. It rotated and split open in a flash of light, and just like a good witch, Mallory stepped into the Midwest.
But there were no coiffed curls or magic wand or glittering gown in this story. In fact, I barely recognized her. She looked awful, and an awful lot like an addict in the throes of a bad craving. I’m not sure what the Order had done or what she’d been through since she left, but she seemed to look even worse than she had thelast time I’d seen her. Thinner and sadder. Her hair, once blue, had lost its color and luster. It now hung blond and limp at her shoulders. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks
R. C. Farrington, Jason Farrington