Set in Stone (9 page)

It released.

The oven began to vibrate and something rumbled inside of it. Hamish laughed. "You won't believe it. I really . . ."

The door blew off the oven, flew across the room, and smashed into the far wall, knocking pots from their hooks. They fell to the stone floor in a cascading din.

Flames burst out the open door of the oven in a solid tongue of fire that stretched six feet into the room. The force of the flames drove the oven back against the wall, while the roar shook the room.

"What did you do?" Connor shouted above the din.

Hamish laughed, unable to fully express the joy that swept through him. "I really did it!"

Chapter 7

Hamish broke it. Connor's initial shock turned to satisfaction as he realized what that meant. There was no way Lady Isobel could use the oven after this. Well, not for anything other than char-broiling things.

Aileen's voice called up from the basement. "What are you lads doing?"

Connor's smile faded. They had to put out the fire before anyone saw.

"Help me," Connor shouted and raced to the water barrel next to the huge wash basin. Between the two of them, they slid the heavy barrel across the room. The overwhelming heat from the flames had already turned the kitchen uncomfortably warm, while the air smelled like a hot iron chisel.

The boys grabbed large pots and threw water into the open oven door where the flames still roared out into the room. The water flashed to steam and forced them to retreat to keep from being overwhelmed by the super-hot cloud. Aileen's footsteps echoed on the stairs. She was coming up fast.

"This isn't working," Hamish said.

"Turn it off."

"I don't know how."

"You turned it on."

Hamish shrugged. "But I didn't know I was turning it on. I just opened the crack."

"How far?"

"I don't know, a lot."

Connor didn't pretend to understand how the oven worked, but Aunt Ailsa had said it would produce constant heat for decades. This inferno would surely burn out much faster, but he could not guess how soon.

"We have to put it out!"

"How?"

"Grab your side."

Connor ran around the billowing flames, and had to shield his face from the incredible heat. He grabbed one side of the oven while Hamish approached the other. Where the stone had been warm to the touch before, now it burned his fingers.

"Try turning it off," Connor said.

Hamish grimaced and placed his hands on the oven. He concentrated for a moment, and absently licked the top of the oven. Then he recoiled and rubbed his mouth.

"Hurry."

"Burned my tongue."

Hamish focused again, and after a couple long seconds, he laughed. "Got it."

The oven seemed to groan, and the tongue of fire leaped out until it stretched across the entire room to the cupboards on the far side. They blackened and started to smoke.

"What did you do?" Connor shouted.

Hamish stared, mouth agape. "Wow."

Aileen appeared from the lower levels, and stopped in the doorway to stare. "What in the name of my lady's impure soul is going on here?"

Connor shouted, "Hamish, help me."

The two of them leveraged the oven forward to the front end of the table. It fought them, as if the flames were driving it back. It took all of their strength to slide it forward those six inches.

"Oh, my boys, be careful," Aileen cried.

"Stay there," Connor called. "We need to put this out."

"What happened?"

"The oven . . . just broke," Connor said between labored breaths.

With a final heave, Connor shoved the oven off the front of the table. The tongue of flame roared louder as it tilted down and scorched stones of the floor. With a thunderous bang, the heavy oven fell to the floor, with the flames facing down.

Hamish said, "Good thinking, Connor."

Aileen dabbed her face. "Oh, my."

Connor frowned and leaned over the oven. Now that it was face-down on the stone floor, there would be less air for the fire and it should smother, but the oven was starting to shake and rattle. It was as if it was trying to right itself.

Could it do that?

He had no idea. He knew almost nothing about it. It's not like Aunt Ailsa sent them detailed instructions. The itching in his arms intensified and spread all through his torso.

Connor grimaced against the urge to scratch, and leaned over the top of the oven to brace it. "Hamish, I think . . ."

Before he could finish, the oven shot up off the floor and drove into his chest. Flames poured out the open door, and Hamish dove back to avoid the inferno. Aileen screamed and retreated a step down toward the basement, ready to bolt.

Connor shouted as the oven pushed him into the air.

He was flying!

How could such a heavy oven do that? It didn't matter. He started to laugh, even though the oven was now hot enough to blister his skin right through his shirt.

His weight was not centered over the oven, and as it rose, it tilted, shooting flames toward Hamish while the entire oven started floating across the room in the opposite direction. Hamish yelped, retreated, and jumped into the huge wash basin.

Connor yanked on the oven and shifted his weight to try to bring the flames vertical and drive the cursed oven back to the floor. For a second, he held it level, but instead of sinking to the floor, the oven climbed higher.

Then the balance shifted again and it started tilting the other way. Connor heaved against it again, but over compensated, and it started to spin, with the flames scorching a wide circle in the floor. He gritted his teeth and tried again, but only managed to set it spinning faster.

Flames sprayed across the room, and the tables, cupboards and counters all started to smoke and blacken. The itch of Connor's curse intensified throughout his body, and he groaned against the maddening urge to tear at his skin. He'd never felt it so strong.

The roar of the fire seemed like a living thing, and the heat in the kitchen was quickly growing unbearable. The oven smelled like sulfur and fire root.

"Oh spirits, preserve us," Aileen cried as Connor spun wildly around the room toward where she crouched in the doorway.

"Look out," Connor shouted.

As flames sprayed toward her, Aileen jumped back out of the way. She disappeared through the door, and from the shrieks and loud clatter that echoed back into the room, she must have tumbled down the long flight of stairs to the first sub-basement level.

"Sorry," Connor whispered as he held on to the spinning oven. The thrill of flying had already faded, and he just hoped he wouldn't be sick. Although, if he threw up while spinning so fast, he'd get some great distance. He'd probably beat Hamish's record.

The oven carried him into the wall near the outer door. For a second, Connor was tempted to try to push it that way. If he could get the door open, he could get it out of the kitchen before it set everything on fire.

Then again, it was still climbing, pushing him up the wall. If he managed to get it outside, there would be nothing to prevent it from lifting him into the sky.

No, better to shove it into the hearth.

If he could wedge it into the huge fireplace, it couldn't do any harm until it burned itself out.

Connor pushed off from the wall and tried to twist the oven at the same time to point it toward the hearth. He misjudged the required force and instead sent himself spinning out into the room.

"Stones take it," he muttered. Flying was a lot more complicated than the birds made it seem.

Flames spewed around the room, and the already-blackened cupboards burst into open flame under the new fiery onslaught.

At the sight, Hamish leaped out of the wash basin and shouted, "Save the food!"

"Save yourself, grout-for-brains," Connor shouted. Smoke was filling the room, and he started to cough.

Hamish ignored him and raced to the sweetbread cupboard. He managed to pry open the burning door and started yanking the pastries out and throwing them at the window.

It was closed. Pastries bounced off and littered the floor. Hamish did not seem to notice, but moved to the next cupboard and started throwing fruit. One apple broke the window, and fresh air rushed into the kitchen. Connor breathed deep the cool breeze, but so did the flames, and the fire roared higher.

Hamish yelped, and ran for the washbasin again. He slipped on a burning muffin, lost his footing, and skidded across the floor on his stomach. He ended up under a burning counter.

The spinning oven collided with the wall not far from Hamish, and Connor pushed off again before the flames consumed his friend. This time, he set himself better and shot away from the wall in a straight line. He looked up to find he wasn't headed for the hearth, but for the closed door leading to the formal dining room.

Connor grimaced at the thought of what the flames would do to that door, but there was nothing he could do about it. He focused instead on figuring out how to bounce the floating oven across the room from one wall to another to reach the hearth, hopefully before the oven drove him into the ceiling. He should be able to make it in three bounces.

As he neared the door, Connor braced himself for the impact even though he started coughing so hard he felt like he might spit out a lung. Just before he reached the door, it opened and Lady Isobel stepped into the opening.

Their eyes met, and her look of shocked surprise was priceless. Then Connor realized the oven was about to kill her. He threw his weight against the oven to try to avoid the collision.

He forgot that the flames always moved in the opposite direction.

The roaring tongue of fire tilted forward and completely enveloped Lady Isobel and the door. She screamed and tumbled out of view. He caught a brief glimpse of her before the oven collided with the wall above the door, and the sight made him wince.

He'd never considered that the hair dye she used might be flammable.

"Sorry," Connor shouted as the oven floated in the opposite direction, straight back toward Hamish.

Hamish saw him coming, and crawled deeper under the burning table.

"Move!" Connor shouted, but Hamish just pulled his feet under.

The oven smashed into the cupboard above Hamish so hard, it knocked the entire cupboard off the wall. The oven twisted under the impact, and Connor's foot caught in the top shelf of the cupboard.

It started dragging him off the oven. Connor yelped and scrambled to hold on, but only managed to tilt the oven, which resulted in him slipping off faster.

Time seemed to slow as Connor's hand slipped and he started to fall free. The cupboard would drag him down to the table, and the oven would consume him with its flames.

As that terrible truth flashed into Connor's mind, the Curse raged through him, itching through his entire body, stronger than he'd ever imagined it could. Connor did the only thing he could.

He Curse-punched the oven.

His entire body went numb with the power of the Curse, and then his Curse-laden fist struck the oven and punched right through.

The oven exploded.