The strain was showing already. All three of them were sweating, their chests heaving. Only Thaddeus seemed calm.
“I’d rather not burn you alive, Malachi,” he said. “But I will. Give up. Let Melanie into your mind so we know you’re not going try anything and—”
With a roar, Malachi moved, his arms slashing through the air. Thaddeus’s fire snuffed out like a candle flame and the other three staggered, their hands losing contact with each other.
“Do you think me that weak?” Malachi screamed. “Even before the blood sacrifice, I was stronger than any of you! All of you! Now? Now you’re nothing more than insects!”
Flame roared to life again, only this time it was around Thaddeus. The mage threw his hands out to try to stop it. It closed in on him anyway. His screams split the air and Melanie moved toward him, getting no further than a step before she was frozen in place.
With a contemptuous wave of Malachi’s hand, Darius was thrown back against the wall, his mouth gaping as he fought for breath. Willow ran to him, and Malachi laughed at her efforts to pull him away, any attempt at healing obviously not working.
Jocasta sprang across the desk, slamming into Malachi. She wrapped her arms around his, trying to keep them pinned to his side, and slammed her forehead into his nose with a sickening crack.
Malachi grunted, and she did it again, then again. Each time, the crunch of bone rang in her ears.
There was a sharp pain across her lower back and she felt blood flow. Another followed, deeper this time, across her left shoulder.
She screamed in pain and rage and lifted Malachi, turning and slamming him down onto his desk. The roar of the flames around Thaddeus stopped and Darius drew in a tremendous gasp of air.
Beneath her, Malachi growled like an animal and she felt another cut open on her leg, then another in the same area.
She head-butted him again, but the pain she was fighting took most of the force away.
A hand touched her shoulder.
“My turn,” Solomon said.
Chapter 83
Solomon crept toward the doorway, listening to the activity inside the room. He heard the screams and the roar of flames. He heard Malachi boast of his strength.
He clenched his fists against his sides, fighting the urge to run in and put an end to it. Thaddeus had told him to stay put until he was summoned. Until Malachi was well in hand and unable to flee.
Then, he heard Jocasta scream, her voice full of agony. Something inside him twisted, his vision almost going blurry for a moment. A visceral reaction propelled him into motion before he even thought to stop himself.
He entered the room in time to see Thaddeus being burned alive and Darius pressed against a wall fighting for breath, while Willow tried in vain to help him. Melanie was frozen in mid-step, trying to reach Thaddeus. He saw Jocasta lift the pale man in the black robes and slam him onto the desk.
When the cuts opened on her and she screamed again, Solomon had had enough.
He crossed the room in quick strides, coming behind the desk and reaching out for Jocasta.
“My turn,” he said.
Jocasta’s head turned and her usual angry glare was replaced by pure pain.
She rolled to the side, falling off the man who Solomon assumed was Malachi.
Malachi only had time to say, “You!” before Solomon hit him with all his strength.
Solomon was strong even for one of the Folk, and there weren’t many who could fend off one of his blows, especially when helpless. His fist caught Malachi under the chin, slamming the back of his head into the top of the desk.
Malachi sneered and started to sit back up.
Solomon hit him again, this time a straight shot to the nose, already bent from Jocasta’s attack. Malachi fell back onto the desk with a cry, then feebly tried to rise again. The third blow did the trick.
“Everyone okay?” Solomon asked, stepping back from the unconscious man.
They weren’t.
Darius was having a hard time breathing and Thaddeus was passed out on the floor, his skin blackened and oozing, smoke still rising from him. Melanie had collapsed before Malachi was driven unconscious, but now she sprang to her feet and staggered to him.
“Willow!” she screamed. “Thaddeus needs you!”
Willow stayed near Darius, talking quietly to him.
“Willow!” Melanie screamed again.
The healer turned her head, saw Thaddeus and rose to her feet, crossing the room in an instant. She knelt next to him and started chanting, her eyes closing and hands hovering over his body.
Good. For a moment, Solomon wasn’t sure she was going to help him. He was glad that she did. Willow never would have forgiven herself if she knowingly let someone truly suffer.
“Melanie, Darius,” he said, “come over here and let Willow do her work. You two need to make sure this one stays down.”
He turned to Jocasta, who had worked herself to the windows and sat with her back against them, smears of blood on the floor showing her progress.
“I can get Willow here in a few minutes,” Solomon said.
“Let her heal Thaddeus,” Jocasta said. “I’ll be fine. Just help me bind up the cuts.”
Solomon smiled at that. Tough as nails, this one.
He helped her stop the bleeding, although he still wanted Willow to look at her when she could. With the amount of healing Thaddeus would need, it would be a while, though; and he wasn’t sure if she’d have enough strength to tend to Jocasta as well.
“Solomon,” Darius said. “He’s coming around.”
Malachi was starting to stir, his eyes fluttering open. Solomon was impressed. Not many would have been awake this quickly after three of his blows.
“Do you
