The Force of Wind
Page 75
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“Tenzin!” He rose to his feet and rushed toward her. She batted him back with an angry wall of wind, and he fell into the alcoves that held the books as more paper whipped around him. “We must go to Beatrice and Stephen,” he roared. “We must make sure they are safe. Something is wrong!”
The wind stopped and she cocked her head toward him. “Stephen?”
“Stephen.” Giovanni nodded, rising to his feet. “There is something—”
“Stephen,” she said again, blinking her eyes as if waking from a daze. She frowned at Giovanni and started toward the door. He followed her, only to halt when she suddenly stopped right before the open door of the library. Giovanni almost ran into her when he heard her gasp and buckle forward, as if something had punched her in the gut.
“Tenzin?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she slumped to the ground. “Tenzin!”
He caught her and turned her in his arms. Her eyes were glazed over, hollow as the grave. The flames burst over his back when he heard her plaintive whisper.
“Stephen…”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wuyi Moutains
Fujian Province
China
November 2010
“How shall I kill you, my Stephen?” Lorenzo slapped at his child’s face with the flat of his sword. Stephen was hanging, trapped in a wall of water from which he couldn’t break free. Lorenzo paced nearby, as his guard watched the stairs.
“You’re so stupid. You have all this power, but no idea what to do with it. You should have spent less time with your books and more time practicing, like your daughter.”
“Let me out of here,” Stephen grunted, “and fight me like a man.”
“Oh,” Lorenzo laughed, “but I am not a man, you silly child. You’re such an American. Can you do a John Wayne impression, cowboy?” Lorenzo chuckled at his own joke, and the silent guard smirked.
Beatrice was still trapped on the ground. Her hands continued to struggle with the blade that Lorenzo had run through her, but her palms slipped on the bloody sword, cutting her fingers as she struggled.
Stephen looked resigned. “Lorenzo, you already have the book. What else do you want?”
“To kill you, of course. I just can’t decide… quickly or slowly? I would normally take my time since you’ve been such a bother the last few years, but I have a feeling”—he looked toward the stone stairs leading up to the monastery— “that we’ll be having company soon, which makes me sad.”
Beatrice saw Stephen’s arm break free from the water and her father flicked his hand toward the river, summoning a stream of water that knocked Lorenzo over as he stood near the riverbank. The distraction was enough to break Lorenzo’s hold on the water that had trapped him.
“Oh, you are clever boy!” Lorenzo laughed. “I suppose you’re right, a fight is much more fun.”
Stephen fell to the earth, reaching out and grabbing his sword before he sprang to his feet and met the silent guard who rushed him.
“Dad!” She had to get free. She had to help him. Beatrice tried to grab at the sword again, but she did not have the strength to pull it from the ground beneath her. She continued to spit out the blood that poured into her mouth as she struggled.
“Beatrice, hold on!”
“Enough,” Lorenzo growled, looking toward the stone steps. Just then, there was a flurry of movement on the edge of the river as Beatrice saw her father leap up, sweeping down and beheading the guard he battled. He landed on the ground and started in her direction, only to have Lorenzo dart behind and slash the back of his thighs, cutting his hamstrings and bringing him to his knees.
“No!” Stephen cried out as he fell to his knees. Beatrice fought back the urge to scream when Lorenzo kicked her father’s sword away from him.
No, no, no! Beatrice struggled harder, bloody tears coursing down her cheeks as she tried to break free. She choked on the blood that continued to fill her mouth. If she could just break free… Even if her legs wouldn’t work, she could drag herself—
“Enough of this.” She heard Lorenzo say as he bent over her father. “Enough playing, Stephen.”
Beatrice spat out the blood. “Dad?” she choked. She could feel her wounds close around the blade in her stomach, but even that pain no longer registered as she watched Lorenzo circle her father with one hand gripping his neck.
“Dad!”
“Look at her, Stephen, isn’t she beautiful?” Lorenzo ran a sword through Stephen’s stomach and forced his neck around so Beatrice met her father’s eyes as he began coughing up blood. She saw his lips form her name.
Mariposa…
“No, no… Lorenzo! Get away from him!”
“She’s so lovely,” Lorenzo murmured. “I have plans for her, you know? Such wonderful plans.” He pulled the blade from her father’s stomach and the blood poured out.
Stephen muttered through bloody lips. “Leave… leave her, Lorenzo.”
“Take me! Leave him alone and take me if you want me!” Beatrice cried into the night. “I’ll go. I promise.”
“You have the book. Leave my daughter.”
Lorenzo was watching her as his blade slid around Stephen’s neck, drawing a thin collar of blood. “So touching. And I won’t kill her. I have plans for her. If I could only keep you around, you could see them.”
“No! Daddy!” Beatrice screamed as Lorenzo drew back the sword. Her eyes locked with Stephen’s, and she saw a strange euphoria fill her father’s face. Her eyes raced to Lorenzo, who only cocked his head as he stared at her with a small smile.
The wind stopped and she cocked her head toward him. “Stephen?”
“Stephen.” Giovanni nodded, rising to his feet. “There is something—”
“Stephen,” she said again, blinking her eyes as if waking from a daze. She frowned at Giovanni and started toward the door. He followed her, only to halt when she suddenly stopped right before the open door of the library. Giovanni almost ran into her when he heard her gasp and buckle forward, as if something had punched her in the gut.
“Tenzin?” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she slumped to the ground. “Tenzin!”
He caught her and turned her in his arms. Her eyes were glazed over, hollow as the grave. The flames burst over his back when he heard her plaintive whisper.
“Stephen…”
Chapter Twenty-One
Wuyi Moutains
Fujian Province
China
November 2010
“How shall I kill you, my Stephen?” Lorenzo slapped at his child’s face with the flat of his sword. Stephen was hanging, trapped in a wall of water from which he couldn’t break free. Lorenzo paced nearby, as his guard watched the stairs.
“You’re so stupid. You have all this power, but no idea what to do with it. You should have spent less time with your books and more time practicing, like your daughter.”
“Let me out of here,” Stephen grunted, “and fight me like a man.”
“Oh,” Lorenzo laughed, “but I am not a man, you silly child. You’re such an American. Can you do a John Wayne impression, cowboy?” Lorenzo chuckled at his own joke, and the silent guard smirked.
Beatrice was still trapped on the ground. Her hands continued to struggle with the blade that Lorenzo had run through her, but her palms slipped on the bloody sword, cutting her fingers as she struggled.
Stephen looked resigned. “Lorenzo, you already have the book. What else do you want?”
“To kill you, of course. I just can’t decide… quickly or slowly? I would normally take my time since you’ve been such a bother the last few years, but I have a feeling”—he looked toward the stone stairs leading up to the monastery— “that we’ll be having company soon, which makes me sad.”
Beatrice saw Stephen’s arm break free from the water and her father flicked his hand toward the river, summoning a stream of water that knocked Lorenzo over as he stood near the riverbank. The distraction was enough to break Lorenzo’s hold on the water that had trapped him.
“Oh, you are clever boy!” Lorenzo laughed. “I suppose you’re right, a fight is much more fun.”
Stephen fell to the earth, reaching out and grabbing his sword before he sprang to his feet and met the silent guard who rushed him.
“Dad!” She had to get free. She had to help him. Beatrice tried to grab at the sword again, but she did not have the strength to pull it from the ground beneath her. She continued to spit out the blood that poured into her mouth as she struggled.
“Beatrice, hold on!”
“Enough,” Lorenzo growled, looking toward the stone steps. Just then, there was a flurry of movement on the edge of the river as Beatrice saw her father leap up, sweeping down and beheading the guard he battled. He landed on the ground and started in her direction, only to have Lorenzo dart behind and slash the back of his thighs, cutting his hamstrings and bringing him to his knees.
“No!” Stephen cried out as he fell to his knees. Beatrice fought back the urge to scream when Lorenzo kicked her father’s sword away from him.
No, no, no! Beatrice struggled harder, bloody tears coursing down her cheeks as she tried to break free. She choked on the blood that continued to fill her mouth. If she could just break free… Even if her legs wouldn’t work, she could drag herself—
“Enough of this.” She heard Lorenzo say as he bent over her father. “Enough playing, Stephen.”
Beatrice spat out the blood. “Dad?” she choked. She could feel her wounds close around the blade in her stomach, but even that pain no longer registered as she watched Lorenzo circle her father with one hand gripping his neck.
“Dad!”
“Look at her, Stephen, isn’t she beautiful?” Lorenzo ran a sword through Stephen’s stomach and forced his neck around so Beatrice met her father’s eyes as he began coughing up blood. She saw his lips form her name.
Mariposa…
“No, no… Lorenzo! Get away from him!”
“She’s so lovely,” Lorenzo murmured. “I have plans for her, you know? Such wonderful plans.” He pulled the blade from her father’s stomach and the blood poured out.
Stephen muttered through bloody lips. “Leave… leave her, Lorenzo.”
“Take me! Leave him alone and take me if you want me!” Beatrice cried into the night. “I’ll go. I promise.”
“You have the book. Leave my daughter.”
Lorenzo was watching her as his blade slid around Stephen’s neck, drawing a thin collar of blood. “So touching. And I won’t kill her. I have plans for her. If I could only keep you around, you could see them.”
“No! Daddy!” Beatrice screamed as Lorenzo drew back the sword. Her eyes locked with Stephen’s, and she saw a strange euphoria fill her father’s face. Her eyes raced to Lorenzo, who only cocked his head as he stared at her with a small smile.
