Deadly Sting

marble—all of my Stone magic, all of my Ice power, every single drop of magic that I had left, along with what was stored in my spider rune ring. And then I grabbed hold of all that magic, all that power, and I made the statue move.

It was difficult—so damn difficult. It was one thing to fling around raw magic. Any elemental could do that, just like any giant could throw a couple of punches. But this was a finesse job, a surgical strike, just like what Owen had done earlier tonight in the vault and how I had disarmed the rune trap on the covered bridge.

Just like my fight with Peter Delov all those years ago. Back then, I’d made the giant go where I wanted him to, and now I was going to do the same exact thing to Clementine.

I wanted to unleash my magic more than anything, wanted to send it racing out through the marble in all directions until it pulverized the statue and every other rock it came into contact with.

That wouldn’t save me, but maybe this would.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the old man shuddered again. Bits of marble chipped off his arms and legs, but his stone chest slowly swiveled in my direction, and so did the spear in his right hand.

Sweat poured down my body, mixing with my blood, but the only things I was aware of were that spear and the growing mutters of the marble as I forced it to go exactly where I commanded it to.

Clementine finally realized that I was up to something, because she leaned forward and clamped her hands over my nose and mouth once more. “Oh, no you don’t—”

I’d gotten the statue into position. Now it was time to do the same thing to the giant. I sent out a burst of magic, forcing a bit of my Ice and Stone power into a small crack I’d sensed in the side of the statue.

The old man’s left arm shattered with a roar.

Clementine’s head snapped around just in time to see the explosion of stone. Instinct took over, and she lurched to one side, trying to get out the way of the falling bits of rock. But I reached out, dug my hand into the back of her tuxedo vest, and held on tight, keeping one eye on the statue all the while. My deadweight took Clementine by surprise and made her pull up short. She grunted and lunged forward again, causing her vest to rip down the back. So I lashed out, driving my foot into the back of her knee and making her land on her ass on the walkway.

She sat right in front of the old man and his spear.

Clementine started to crab-walk backward to get out of the way of the falling stone, but she put her elbow down in the same puddle of water that I had earlier, causing her arm to slip out from under her.

Before she could even think about moving again, I focused on the statue once more, forcing my power down into the old man’s remaining arm. His fingers twitched, and the spear wobbled back and forth, causing more bits of stone to break off the figure.

Come on, old man, I thought, still staring at the statue. Come on!

I sent out one last, final burst of magic, putting everything I had into the statue, bending it to my will.

The old man’s right arm snapped down and forward, ramming the stone spear straight through Clementine’s chest.

The weight of the blow threw her back and pinned her to the ground right next to me, even as the rest of my magic ripped through the statue unchecked.

For a moment, there was just—noise.

Crash after crash after crash as the rest of the statue toppled over, broke off into chunks, and went flying through the boathouse. One of the old man’s legs sailed through the air and disappeared with a plop into the river. His head spun around and around in a circle on the floor, rattling this way and that like a child’s top that was out of control. Dust choked the air, and it seemed as though the entire boathouse bucked and heaved for several seconds before the statue finally stopped breaking apart and the marble settled into place once more.

I rolled over onto my side and lay there, panting against the pain that flooded my ribs and collarbone. I was all out of magic, and the numbing effect of my Ice power was rapidly wearing off. But I didn’t mind the pain—it told me that I was still alive.

And so was Clementine.

She was flat on her back, the spear sticking up out of her stomach, the old man’s arm still attached to the top of the weapon. She arched up, as if she could somehow wiggle out from under the stone tip, even though it had driven all the way through her body and punched into the walkway underneath. Clementine was pinned as securely as a butterfly in a glass case.

The giant realized that I was staring at her. She snarled and stretched out, her hand curving into a claw as she aimed it at my throat—

And came up two inches short.

Clementine flailed and flailed at me, snarling and grunting and cursing all the while, but she just couldn’t move those last two precious inches in order to throttle me. Her fist slammed into the stone walkway between us over and over again in frustration, her movements getting weaker and slower with every glancing blow. After about thirty seconds of that, the last of her strength left her, and her hand dropped to the floor and stayed there.

Still, she glared at me, her eyes bright with pain, fury, and the cold, cold death that was creeping up on her breath by breath.

“Bet you really hate my Stone magic now, don’t you?” I said.

Clementine opened her mouth, but no words came out, only a spurt of blood. After a moment, even that slowed and slopped. Her whole body shuddered once, her eyes dimmed, and then she was still.

27

I lay where I was and watched Clementine Barker die.

When I was sure she was gone, I put a hand on the walkway and tried to push myself upright. But I moved too quickly, and the pain in my ribs and shoulder was too great. My arm slid out from under me, and I slumped back down onto the cold stone.

I knew that I needed to move, to get up and go see how the others had fared in the rotunda, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. My vision narrowed, as though I were standing in a train tunnel, and the light at the end began to fade. Even though I tried to fight it, I felt myself sliding into that sweet blackness where there was no pain, no worry, only the dreams, the memories . . .

I was hiding behind a table, waiting for a giant to come and kill me.

At least, I was pretty sure that’s how it would go. But I’d set my trap for Delov anyway, knowing it was the best chance I had to kill him—the only chance, really. Now all that was left to do was see if he fell for it—

A floorboard creaked farther down the hallway.

I drew in a breath, trying to slow my racing heart, and peeked around the edge of the table.

Delov stood at the end of the hall. A patch of moonlight sliding in through the lace curtains illuminated him, making him seem even larger and more dangerous than before. He squinted into the shadows, looking left and right and back again. I froze, not even daring to try to curl into a tighter, smaller ball. After a moment, the giant eased forward, heading toward the library, where Fletcher was still trying to get the yip-yappy Pomeranian to shut up.

Game time.

I waited until Delov had stepped into the library, then got to my feet and tiptoed across the hall, easing up against the wall. The giant snapped on a light, and its harsh golden glare filled the library like the rays of a noontime sun. Peaches started barking even louder. The dog scuttled out from underneath the desk, skipped over to Delov, and wound his way through the giant’s feet before prancing back over to the desk. The giant frowned, looking at the dog and watching his happy, excited movements. After a moment, his mouth tightened,