He's A Magic Man (The Children of Merlin) (41 page)

Nothing.

The sword dropped to the floor. Just what she expected.

“
Don’t worry, honey.”
It was her mother’s voice in her head. She flashed on the last time she’d talked with her mother, on the terrace before dinner.
“You can’t force it,” she’d said. “Sometimes you just have to let things happen.”

Wait. Wasn’t that just how she’d had her last vision? When she had quit trying, it came.

Okay.
She grabbed the hilt of the sword more securely and took a deep breath. A lamp sped by in the rush of wind and smoke, followed by books and a cellphone. The place was turning into a tornado. A flash of lightning revealed her family and Michael, huddled against the wind and debris.
Just like Wizard of Oz
. She started to laugh.
Only everything’s blue.

As if the laugh freed her power, she felt it surge up inside her. A vision flashed over the chaos around her. She saw herself, holding the sword high just where she was standing now, a triumphant look on her face. There was a corona of power glowing around her. Almost as soon as the vision became clear, it faded and the storm inside the penthouse was back.

She could do this. She
would
do it. Michael thought she could do this, and so did her father. Now so did she.

So she relaxed. Her lungs gasped at breath and air filled them. Along with something else
Not
painful. Not bad. Full, alive. That’s how she felt. The air around her began to glow. The sword rose of its own accord. Rhiannon was in for it now. Drew expected a flash of power from the sword, like the one that had destroyed their yacht.
But … nothing.
The sword kept rising. As it passed Rhiannon, the wind abruptly died. Lightning flashes sputtered out. Only the angry flapping of the fire and the acrid tang of smoke remained. Dimly, Drew saw Rhiannon standing, startled, with her arms raised. She looked a little silly. Behind her, figures stood among the rubble and the flames. Some bore looks of awe. She could make out Michael.

The sword continued rising.

Then it struck her. There was another way her vision could come true. She looked up through the glass at the twenty-foot blue globe, shining out across the lake.

Did Drew herself break the glass? It wouldn’t change anything. Rhiannon was under the protective ceiling.
Only Drew would be killed by the falling glass
, as she’d known she would be in her vision.

The sword rose. Drew felt like she was just hanging on to it, not controlling it.

But wait. Rhiannon didn’t want attention. She was practically
phobic
about it. And what was about to happen would bring down every fire fighter and police officer in the city. Was that enough? She looked down at Rhiannon, who had begun to realize what was going to happen, too.

“Get the damned sword,” she shouted to her men.

But they seemed mesmerized by the sight of the sword rising. It was beginning to glow. Its light bathed Drew in glittering iridescence.

As the sword pointed straight up, Rhiannon’s men lunged forward. Michael and her brothers got between her and the thugs. But her father just stared at her, nodding in satisfaction.

As she looked up again, she embraced what was about to happen. Maybe the sword knew more than she did. Maybe this was meant to be, and the others would be saved. She’d done her part. She’d called the power. And now she’d pay the price.

A channel of light shot from the tip of the sword into the night sky. The glass of the ceiling shattered first, cascading down around the sword. The huge blue globe shattered next and the channel of light shone far up into the night. The cascading glass, first clear then blue, showered down around Drew. But not a single shard touched her. It was if she stood inside a cone of protection. She looked around her, exhilarated, feeling bigger than life itself. Flames were everywhere now, crisscrossing the penthouse. Didn’t matter. Where was Michael? There.

She smiled.

Then the sword shut off as though it had a switch. It came crashing to the ground, and with it, all Drew’s force of life evaporated. She rolled her head, unable to keep it upright. And then she was falling into darkness.

*****

Michael saw Drew collapse behind a wall of fire. The whole place was about to be engulfed. He surged forward just as the gas stove blew up and everyone fell back. It took a moment for him to re-claim his senses. The crackle of the flames sounded far away. As he started to get up, sirens wafted up from below, faintly.

“Get the sword,” Rhiannon shouted. Several men headed toward the stairwell.

“Go for the sword,” Michael yelled to Kemble, coughing. “I’ll get Drew.”

Rhiannon gave up on her men, and lunged for the sword herself. The smoke was bad. The kitchen was essentially gone. Flames created a curtain between Michael and Drew. He turned around, looking for alternatives. Kemble was about to be trapped by converging flames.

“Forget the sword,” Brian yelled and grabbed his son. “Get to the stairs.” He looked to Michael. There was no pleading in his eyes.

Michael gave him a brief salute and dropped to his hands and knees. He was the only one who was in a position to get to Drew. He kept low to the floor, breathing shallowly, and just tried to find a way forward. The place was like a maze with walls of fire. He’d never find Drew at this rate. But he’d die trying. He edged forward. His knees and palms burned. He didn’t care.

“Drew,” he choked. Maybe she could hear him. If she called, he could find her. The room had become some foreign place that didn’t look anything like it had a few minutes ago. Was he even going the right way? He’d made so many turns to escape the flames.

She’s over here.

He heard the voice so clearly. He hadn’t heard her since before the island.

By the dining table.

Where the hell was the dining table? He was coughing badly now.

Left. Go left.

Okay. Whatever you say
,
Alice
, he thought. He pushed left, though he was quite certain the dining table was straight ahead. He had to go around a finger of flame pushing out to the fresh air of the part of the room now open to the sky. If they didn’t get out of here in minutes, they’d not get out at all. Maybe it was too late already.

He wouldn’t think that. He turned back around the finger of flame. And there she was, lying in a heap. The flames had just started eating at a corner of her dress. He scrambled forward and beat at them. Then he took her limp form in his arms. “Drew, Drew, baby, are you okay?” No answer. He felt frantically for a pulse in her neck with his thumb.

The throb of her blood was about the best thing he’d ever felt.

He looked up and saw flames licking up maybe ten or twelve feet into the night sky behind him. In front of him was the maze, its passage walls slowly converging on each other. How the hell was he going to get her out of here?

A single word,
kitchen,
echoed faintly in his mind.

She might be a hallucination. She only came to him
in extremis
. She might be a ghost. He didn’t care, as long as she was right. He popped up long enough to see what might be a dark area beyond the wall of flame. Coughing, he gathered Drew in his arms. He wound her hair around his left hand to keep it from hanging and clutched her to his chest, face into his shoulder. Then he just got up and ran for the dark place as fast as he could go, right through the wall of flame. He felt the pain dimly. Then he was into the blackened shell of the kitchen. The explosion seemed to have pushed out the flames. And there was a sink.

He turned on the faucet. Water.
Thank you, Alice.
It was one of those big, pullout faucet heads. He laid Drew on the counter and jerked it out. He sprayed Drew and himself as well as he could. Then he picked her back up and took a deep breath. There was a lot of flame between here and the stairwell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Kemble guided Michael and Drew over to a paramedic rig. Michael felt dazed. “Need some oxygen,” Kemble said, in that authoritative voice he got from his father.

Brian had been waiting at the stairwell for them. Strange that he’d had such faith Michael would get her out. He’d sent the two brothers down the stairs. Michael wasn’t shocked to learn they’d been waiting one floor down to force “
Senior
,” as Tris called him, out before the stairs grew impassable.

Any of Rhiannon’s men who’d been conscious made it out and scattered. The stairs were crowded with residents as the little Tremaine pod of survivors descended. Rhiannon had disappeared. And they didn’t have the sword.

Fire equipment was still rolling up to the scene. Hoses snaked everywhere. Men in full fire gear ran into the building even as frightened people stumbled out. Michael looked up. Several of the top floors were now fully engulfed. He hoped everyone got out.

Brian was over giving orders to several fire captains. He’d said he was an off-duty commander of the 56th fire brigade to give them some authority if anyone tried to question them.

Michael looked down at Drew, nestled against his chest. She stirred in his arms. She’d be okay. Brina would see to that. That was what was important. His burns hurt some. But he’d never felt so right.

“I’ll take care of them,” a big young man in navy blue with patches all over his shirt said, holding up an oxygen mask hooked to a big tank. “Sit her right down here.”

Michael lowered Drew gently to sit on the wide bumper of the paramedic truck. He sat beside her to support her with his arm, as the medic fastened an oxygen mask over her head.

“Breathe deep,” the medic ordered her. He produced another mask. “Can you hold this up to your face?” he asked Michael.

“I’m fine.” Michael waved him away.

“You’re not fine.” Tris came up to stand beside Kemble. “Do as you’re told for once.”

“Like you would,” Michael retorted. Tris was scraped up some from the fight and covered with soot.

“You need care,” the medic said. “You … uh … might be in shock.” He handed Michael the mask again. “Can you hold it? I don’t want to scrape up your … uh … cheek.”

Oh
. Michael looked down at his hands. Blistered. Yeah. The crawl. The borrowed slacks were burnt through at the knees, revealing the mess beneath. And now that the medic mentioned it his cheek did hurt some. Kemble and Tris were looking a little blurry. He took the mask gingerly and breathed in. Yeah. That helped.

“We need to get them to a hospital, sir,” the medic said to Kemble, who frowned.

Kemble was right. They couldn’t spend all night in a hospital. Not with the sword loose, and maybe Rhiannon.

Brian strode up. “I’ll take them,” he said. “It’s my fault they were here tonight. Besides, you boys have got this handled.” He nodded to a red car screaming up. “And you’ve got your own commander on scene now.” He winked at the medic. “Too many cooks spoil the soup.”

“Yes, sir,” the medic said, chuckling. “Take the oxygen tank, sir, and I’ll get you transportation.”

“That would be kind, son,” Brian said to the medic.

Tris was staring up. “How do we go back for the sword now?”

“We don’t,” Brian said briefly. “Time to regroup.”

Kemble reached around to his back for his
iPad
. Not there. He looked up at the inferno too. “Must have jarred loose in the fight. Should have known.” Michael had a feeling Kemble felt naked without some kind of computer at hand.

It took a few minutes before a fire captain’s car was procured. Brian herded them all in as he confirmed the nearest hospital. By the time they drove off, the medic was busy taking care of the flood of other residents.

The few blocks to the Palmer House were a blur for Michael. Pain was setting in now. But Drew was all right. She was still coughing a little. They passed the oxygen mask around between them. Brian waved it away because he was driving and Michael gave his turn to Drew.

How close he’d come to losing her tonight! It didn’t bear thinking about. But that was all he could think about. That and how good it felt to have her tucked under his arm where he could protect her. He felt the same sexual pull toward her he’d felt in the shack back in the Keys. What a jerk. She was half-dead and so was
he.
He needed to concentrate on protecting her. Could anyone protect her now that Rhiannon knew what she was?

“She all right?” Brian asked over his shoulder from the driver’s seat.

“I think so,” Michael said. “She seems to be more alert.” He looked down at Drew, who blinked up at him with gray eyes red-rimmed from the smoke. He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. Like he’d kiss her in front of her father and brothers. Like she’d want him to kiss her at all.

“Thank you,” she murmured, “for risking your life to get me out of there.”

Michael shook his head dismissively. “Anybody would have done that.”