Don't Hex with Texas
Page 109

 Shanna Swendson

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:

I might have been able to think my way out of a more elaborate trap, but there was absolutely nothing I could do now. It didn’t look like anyone else had any better ideas, either. Even the pixies were still, looking to Owen for guidance.
Merlin was the one who stepped forward and addressed Idris solemnly. “Your inability to care about others is more dangerous than any spell you’ve tried to develop. If that is the way you see the world, all the magic you do will be stained with darkness.”
Idris laughed at him. “Nice one, Pops. Since this magic thing doesn’t seem to be working out so well for you in this millennium, maybe you could go into writing greeting cards. Now, since no one seems to be willing to shed this little lady’s blood, I’m going to walk out of here, and you’re going to let me.” As he walked past me, he paused and said, “Nothing personal. You just made a really bad choice in boyfriends. Too bad, because you’d be kind of cute if you wore more makeup.”
If I hadn’t had a knife to my throat, those would have been fighting words. I had to settle for glaring at him. I wasn’t the only one glaring. Merlin fixed Owen with a stern stare that clearly told him he would be the one to have to deal with this. If we got through this okay, I had a feeling Owen would never, ever rebel against his boss again. The price was way too high. Then Owen met my eyes with a long gaze that took my breath away and almost made me forget someone was holding a knife to my throat. He looked like he was the one in mortal peril, the anguish was so great. This seemed to be good-bye. I felt like I should say something meaningful. What was that bit from the end of A Tale ofTwo Cities, something about this being a far better thing to do? Or maybe the classic “We’ll always have Paris.” That would be meaningful between us because we’d talked about Casablanca being his favorite movie.
Instead, though, the words that came out of my mouth were, “Say hi to the dragons for me.” Those weren’t what I’d have normally chosen to be my last words, but the glint that went into his eyes made me suspect they wouldn’t be my final words, after all.
Owen said something softly and sternly, and I immediately felt the knife drop away from my throat.
And then I felt a pair of arms go around me, not in a threatening hold, but rather in a big hug. “Aww, you’re so soft and cuddly,” McCreary said in a voice that sounded like he was soon going to be petting me, squeezing me, and calling me George. If the dragons Owen had magically tamed could talk, I imagined this would be what they’d sound like. The moment the knife left my throat, Owen went after Idris.
Something hit me then, a sense of magic that had no effect on me other than to make me shiver, but it made my captor relax his hold on me. I turned away from watching Owen to see Dean readying a fireball. “Get your hands off my sister, you creep,” he said. He didn’t have to ask twice. I stumbled as the guy released me, but Dean stepped forward to catch me. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded, and he said, “I’m glad Owen gave me that necklace. I’ve never been able to do anything like that before.”
Owen and Idris were back locked in combat. Merlin stood nearby, but his attention wasn’t on the fight. Instead, he held his hands out, chanting. One by one, the remaining student wizards, including the prisoners, stopped in their tracks, wherever they were, and then slumped to the ground. It looked like he was eliminating the risk of anyone else jumping into the fray with magic or any other assistance. I was totally in favor of that. I moved toward the fight, but Dean held me back, sheltering me in his arms. “Don’t risk putting him in that kind of spot again,” he said. I knew he was right, but I didn’t have to like it. I vowed to find the meanest, sneakiest martial art around and become a master at it. Even if I couldn’t do magic, I’d make the next person who tried to use me as a hostage regret it.
The fight wasn’t going as well as I would have hoped. With the magical magnifier, Idris was a lot fresher than Owen, which made up for Owen’s usual advantages of strength and skill. Owen looked flat-out exhausted, but determined not to give up. “He can’t keep going like that,” Dean muttered. He released his grasp on me and pulled his necklace off. “Owen, catch!” he yelled.
The necklace sailed through the air, and Owen caught it easily with one hand. He stared at it for a moment, and then I noticed Merlin staring at him. I remembered what Owen had said about the dangers of using magic like that. But didn’t desperate circumstances call for desperate measures?
Apparently not. Owen shook his head and tossed the necklace aside. “No, not that way,” he said softly, but so clearly that his voice carried across the park. Merlin looked pleased as he continued dealing with students. Owen had apparently passed the test, but he hadn’t yet won the fight. A laughing Idris came after him with renewed vigor. Owen retreated, running back toward the creek where he had hope of more help from the nature spirits, but he was too exhausted to run very far or very fast, and when he tripped and fell, he hit the ground and didn’t make it up again. Merlin finished dealing with the students and turned to aid Owen, but he was moving slowly and looked exhausted.