Temple of Flames Page 2

  I shook my head, my heart still racing. “I don’t know. I’ll try.”

  The flight attendant finally noticed the other passengers who were standing in the aisle, watching us. “I’d better do my job,” she said. She turned and began instructing everyone to get to their seats, leaving us with the dog. I could still feel people’s eyes on me, though, as I got to my hands and knees next to the big creature, my nearly forgotten fear of dogs rising up inside.

  “Come on, amulet. Please help.”

  It didn’t matter how close I got to the thing, though. The little flame never appeared. I shook my head, giving Abel a dismayed look. “It’s a no-go.”

  Abel muttered under his breath, scowling at the necklace. “Piece of trash.”

  “Hopefully not for much longer.” Hopefully, the amulet’s creator would know what to do. Hopefully, whatever was wrong was reparable.

  The flight attendant returned, her hands still shaking, and stepped around the hound. It obviously wasn’t something they’d ever had to deal with before.

  “It’s not a regular dog,” I said when the woman’s eyes kept moving to Abel and the creature.

  He was still sitting on it, watching its face carefully, ready to kill it again if need be. If she thought his behavior was weird, she didn’t say so.

  She shook her head slowly. “I’ll say. You went into the bathroom alone. The dog didn’t follow you, so it must have appeared while you were in there. But how?” Her expression was troubled. She was probably wondering if she and the rest of the passengers were in danger of this happening again.

  I needed to reassure her that she was safe—or would be, once I left. “It came through a magical link. You don’t need to worry about it again, though. It was following me. As soon as I’m gone, you won’t be at risk.”

  “What was it?”

  “The less you know, the better. If I give you too much information, they’ll be attracted to your curiosity and will seek you out. It’s better not to start down that road.”

  The woman looked like she wanted to ask more—especially when I said “they”—but she didn’t. I shouldn’t have clued her in on there being more than one dog. It slipped out before I had a chance to think it through.

  “What now?” she asked.

  I glanced at Abel, trying to decide. “We’ll take it up to our row. We won’t leave it back here with you. It’s too dangerous for us to allow it to come back to life while the plane is in the air.”

  “Okay.” The woman’s shoulders slumped in relief. Then her eyes grew huge. “Wait. It’ll come back to life?”

  “Yes,” Abel said. “Which is why we’ll keep it with us in the meantime.”

  I glanced at him. “But . . .” I started, not sure how to explain. “Once the plane lands, we’ll be running as quickly as possible. The dog will have to stay behind because once he heals—and he will heal—he’ll do everything in his power to destroy me. You won’t be in danger as long as you stay out of the way. I’m who he wants.”

  The woman nodded. I gave her my number and asked her to let me know when the dog healed. She agreed to do so, then visibly steeled herself before turning her attention to getting ready for landing.

  Abel and I dragged the beast up to our row, shoving it under the seats in front of us. Abel kept his foot on the creature’s head in such a way that the neck wouldn’t be able to heal without him releasing the pressure. As soon as the door opened, we raced off the plane and on to the car rental agency.

  The flight attendant texted me as soon as the dog woke up, letting me know it had left and they were safe. I began watching everyone with suspicion. I hadn’t even checked to see if the dog was male or female and had no idea what to watch for.

  One thing was certain, though. I’d never look at an airplane the same again. Now that I knew they weren’t safe—as I’d originally thought—I highly doubted I’d ever fly again if I had a choice. Luckily, most cars didn’t have that perfect corner needed for the beasts to travel through. Automobiles jumped to the top of my list of preferred modes of transportation.

  Chapter Three

  The trip to Mount Koven went quickly, mainly because Abel really sped. Chief must have called ahead and warned the local authorities because we passed several cops and no one stopped us.

  Agnes was waiting on her porch as if she knew we were on our way, and it only took twenty minutes to get to the door of the Akashic Record. I hadn’t been inside for long when the shade who’d created the amulet approached me.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said. “Last time you came, I knew something was wrong, but because you weren’t seeking that information specifically, I couldn’t approach you.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling exhaustion seep into my system. “That’s really good to know.” And it sucked, too. All the stress and frustration I’d been experiencing—not to mention the near-death experiences—could have been prevented if I’d only known to ask. Sigh.

  The man took the amulet from me, inspecting it. He shook his head, grumbling. “Kenan, the previous owner, didn’t give you the whole thing.” He pointed at the amulet. “See?”

  I looked closer. A little sliver of metal was missing. “I just assumed that was because the amulet is old.”

  He shook his head. “This device does not wear out. I designed it to be nearly indestructible. And when damage does occur to it, it pulls minerals from the air and earth around it to heal itself.”

  If only I could do that as well. That would be handy. “What do I need to do?”

  The shade appraised me. “I’m impressed you already know it is you who must do it.”

  I shrugged. “I figured as much, since you’re pretty much stuck here.” I knew some shades wandered around—swapping places with others for a time—but something about this guy told me he didn’t have that option. Maybe it was because he seemed to know so much more than everyone else.

  The shade nodded, no sign of regret or longing on his face. “My duty is a different one from most. And I don’t mind that.” He closed his eyes briefly, then gazed at me. “You must seek out Kenan where he dwells in a graveyard in Holland.”

  An odd sort of pressure thumped against my heart, and I hesitated. The thought of looking for this demon-thing must have really freaked me out if I was already having reactions to the new task.

  The ghost continued. “Once you get there, a shade will help you. The amulet is not yours, and it won’t be until Kenan gives all of it to you.”

  I felt that pressure against my heart again. It made breathing painful, and it occurred to me that I shouldn’t be having physical pain. Not when I wasn’t in my body anymore. I gasped, putting my hand against my sternum. “That really hurts,” I said. What was going on?

  The shade frowned, then closed his eyes.

  “Your body is in danger. Your partner can’t fight them all off.”

  I didn’t have to ask him who he was referring to. The shade started mumbling under his breath. As he did so, I felt the amulet heat up. It got so warm that it became uncomfortable, and I had to pull it away from my skin.

  Finally, the pressure on my heart stopped just as the shade quieted. He gripped my arm, startling me.

  “I’ve granted you safe passage to Holland, where Lord Kenan dwells. You must find him and demand that he give you all of the amulet.” His fingers dug in as he emphasized his point. “The amulet won’t function properly even after he gives it to you. You need to know that I’m borrowing future power from it and current power from ghosts to keep the hounds away. Until it pays itself back for this time it’s protecting you, it won’t work again.”

  “Wait a second,” I said, not totally grasping what he was saying. “Explain that again.” I was still too preoccupied with the thought that the hounds had found my body and attacked. Was I in pieces? Was Abel still alive?

  “If it takes you ten hours to reach Lord Kenan, the amulet won’t function for five more. If it takes twenty, you’ll be unprotected for another ten.” He shook his head, a sad expression on his face. “I wish I could borrow completely from shades, but we lack that sort of power on our own. Without the amulet’s help, we can’t protect you from the hounds at all.”

  “I appreciate any assistance you can offer,” I said, wanting him to know I didn’t blame him.

  “Take care that you not place yourself in any precarious situations until the amulet is functional again.”

  I almost snorted at that but stopped myself just in time. No sense offending the shade who had helped me so much, but hello, Mr. Obvious.

  The shade closed his eyes again, then looked at me. “The passage is ready for you. Go. Now. And quickly.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I whirled, rushing from the room, dodging shades who watched me with concern and interest. They usually ignored me, but this time, they had reason to pay attention—I could feel power swirling in the room, converging on me, flowing to me, making my whole spirit tingle as it protected me.

  The moment I stepped through the door and my spirit entered my body, I knew I was in trouble.

  Chapter Four

  I gasped as pain radiated through my entire body. It was so intense, I think I blacked out for a moment. Long enough, anyway, for me to stumble against the cold stone wall of the tunnel just outside the door. I braced myself against it, trying to concentrate through the sharp, pulsing pain that originated from . . . well, pretty much everywhere.

  What on earth had been happening while I was talking to the shade?

  Something warm trickled into my eye, and I wiped my face, discovering blood on my hand. Great.

  I looked around. Hound and human bodies were strewn across the ground. Most were unconscious, but several glared at me, frozen in place by an almost unseen force. T
he air was sticky and thick, and it took me a moment to realize that everywhere there wasn’t something physical, like tunnel walls, ground, and bodies, there were shades occupying that space, pushing down against the hounds, keeping them in place.

  Someone lurched through that thick air toward me, backlit by the sun, ghosts dissipating and reappearing as he did, and I screeched until I recognized Abel’s outline. Something was wrong with his left leg.

  “Lizzie!” he said, taking me into his arms. “I was so worried. I didn’t know when you’d be back, and with all of the hounds attacking, I thought I’d never fight them off you.” He brushed my hair out of my face, gazing at me, the dim lighting making his blue eyes look almost black. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head, barely able to do that much. The movement made me almost pass out again. “I hurt like crazy. We can’t do anything about it right now, though. I’ve got to get to Holland, and the sooner the better.”

  “Holland?” A confused expression crossed his face. “Why?”

  I glared at the hounds, then immediately regretted doing so as pain spread across my scalp. “The stupid demon—Lord Kenan—didn’t give me the whole amulet. It’s never fully been mine, and until it is, it won’t function.”

  “Well, that sucks.”

  “Understatement,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. “We don’t have much time. The amulet is going to keep the hounds away, but the longer it takes us to get it in my possession, the longer it’ll take until it functions for me.”

  Abel nodded, then put his arm around me, and we helped each other out of the tunnel. Once we were in the light of day, I glanced down at his leg. Blood trickled through his pants and stained the top of his shoe.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I probably could use stitches or something.” He looked me over, his face turning white. “Oh, Lizzie. You look awful. Do you need me to carry you?”

  I took stock of myself, inspecting my arms and legs. Scratches and bite marks were everywhere, but other than that, nothing felt broken. Just tons of horrible, superficial wounds. Well, some deep wounds—a few of those bites were really bad. I hoped I didn’t get herpes or rabies or whatever that disease was. I couldn’t think straight.

  “No. Not with your leg looking like that. I don’t have any sprains or broken bones. Just lots of bad owies.”

  He smiled. “Glad to see you still have a sense of humor.” He looked down the hill to where our rental car would be visible once we got through the scant forest. “We should keep going.”

  I agreed, and helping each other, we headed down the hill and neared the car. I wasn’t surprised to see a stream of dog prints flooding from Agnes’s house, deep in the mud, leading back up the hill. Stupid hounds.

  Abel and I reached our car, and I groaned. The windows had all been shattered—the windshield, back window, everything. Miraculously, only one tire had been slashed. They must’ve gotten tired of doing that and decided to come after me instead.

  Abel swapped out the tire for the donut. He tried to start the car, but nothing happened. Not even a clicking sound. He hit the steering wheel with his fist, cursing, then jumped from the car and lifted the hood.

  I joined him and stared at the engine. The battery was disconnected, and the spark plugs had been pulled out. They were strewn across the gravel road. Abel gathered them up while I reconnected the battery.

  “How do they look?” I asked, hoping nothing was wrong with them. While studying in the specialty training school in California, I’d had to learn how to create enough sparks to start an engine. Even with fire being my natural ability, it was still exhausting, grueling work—much worse than stopping an engine, since it had to be done over and over. I never wanted to do it again.

  “They all look fine. Oh. Except this one—I think it’s toast. Yeah, it is. The thingie is cracked.”

  Seriously? Couldn’t I get a break? “Thingie?”

  “See?”

  He held it out to me, and I nodded. “Yup. The ‘thingie’ is cracked.”

  He ignored my sarcasm. “Do you think you can do it?”

  Resigning myself to the stupid task, I shrugged. “Probably, but not for very long. It’s going to be a rough ride. Don’t go over a thousand RPMs.”

  I knew from school that a thousand RPMs meant that each individual spark plug was sparking five hundred times per minute. Absolutely insane. A car like this probably idled around six hundred RPMs, which meant we’d practically have to coast our way. Luckily, Petersville is uphill from Anchorage. Mostly.

  I continued. “I’m going to be absolutely useless, and I won’t be able to hold on for very long.”

  “You’re saying we won’t make it back to Anchorage?”

  “Definitely not. We’ll have to go to a place that’s down the street a way. I got food there my first time here. We’ll see if they have a car we can borrow or if we could pay someone to drive us.”

  He nodded. “All right, get comfortable then. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  I put my seat all the way down, did up my seatbelt—sort of pointless with me reclined, but hey, I’m nothing if not a law-abiding citizen—and closed my eyes. I gathered my magic around me, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

  As was usually the case when I worked with magic, time slowed down just enough for me to sense when he tried starting the engine. The pistons moved back and forth, compressing gasoline into a tight area where the spark plugs, using electricity from the battery, would ignite and give power to the engine.

  I commanded the plug to create the spark and accelerated the action as fast as I could. The engine started, and I gasped.

  Once I told my magic what to do, it would do it without me having to think about each individual step. But boy, would it cost me. I couldn’t even tell Abel to go, but he already knew what to do.

  The car lurched forward, and I nearly passed out when he barely touched the gas. I gasped again, and he put his hand on my arm.

  “I’m so sorry, Lizzie,” he murmured.

  Then we both fell silent as he started down the hill.

  Chapter Five

  The ride was one of the longest I’d ever endured. In college, I only had to create sparks for thirty seconds—nowhere near fifteen minutes.

  I felt myself losing consciousness as Abel told me we were almost to our destination. By the time we parked, my eyes wouldn’t stay open. My magic stopped flowing to the engine, which meant Abel had turned the key, but by that point, I’d exerted so much magical power, I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t sense the seat beneath me or the temperature of the air around me. I couldn’t even feel my limbs or the pain anymore.

  “You stay here,” Abel said. “I’ll be back.”

  I couldn’t respond. The door opened and closed, and a draft blew over me. The temperature was dropping as night approached. The sunny Alaskan summer night wouldn’t get very dark, but the temperature would still reach the mid-fifties. My Utah-weather-acclimated body wasn’t used to those temperatures, but I wouldn’t know any different.

  I must’ve either fallen asleep or gone unconscious because what felt like only two seconds later, Abel was opening my door and undoing my seat belt.

  “I found us a ride,” he said. “I’ll get you there now.”

  He lifted me out of the seat, and something brushed against my face—his jacket, probably. For all I knew, though, it was the skin on his chest. Until my ability to sense what I touched returned, I would be pretty crippled.

  I came in and out of consciousness as Abel put me in the backseat of a car and sat up front with the driver. Once we were moving, I relaxed and drifted off to sleep. I must’ve slept the entire way to Anchorage because when I woke up, we were pulling into the airport. The driver—a woman—looked back at me, concern on her face.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  I almost tried to sit up but decided against it. “Better now.”

  Her worried expression didn’t leave. “I hope you didn’t do permanent damage.”

  “Me too.”

  She smiled, and for the first time, I noticed she had a slight wave of magic around her.

  “You’re an Arete?” I asked.

  “Yes. I even went to Katon University. Didn’t end up doing much after graduation, but I’m grateful for what I learned.”