Max, at least, didn’t pull back.
That was to say nothing of his expression, though. It became darker as if a storm cloud were crossing his face.
He appeared to come to a decision and, using my shoulder as traction, pushed to his feet.
I stood, following him as terror continued to pulse hard through my belly.
McCain chose that exact moment to bellow once more. His scream echoed and ricocheted over the dump, sounding like a blast from a thousand fog horns.
As Max shifted forward, movements uncoordinated but still bristling with strength, I caught sight of the side of his face.
It made me swallow. I’d seen Max look stronger, seen him looked more determined. But this? God, you only needed one look at his face, and it would be obvious to anyone he was getting ready to kill a man.
Though Max still wobbled, with every step he took, his movements became stronger until he pushed off into a run.
His trademark camel-leather boots skidded over the gravel, churning up chunks of stone and sending them scattering behind him.
“Max, wait up,” I screamed. “You’re in no condition to fight. Plus, it doesn’t matter. There’s only one way to defeat McCain.”
“No, Chi. There’s two. Now, get out of here.”
I was in no mood whatsoever to follow Max’s order. Hello, I hadn’t just gone through Hell on Earth to be pushed back by his misguided manly attempt to save me from himself.
As soon as he reached the bottom of the incline, he pushed off into a hearty run. I don’t know where he found the power, but within a few steps, his stride was just as balanced and strong and fast as usual.
I would have no hope of keeping up. “Max,” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. “Just stop. Please. Listen.”
It was a plaintive cry, and though I screamed it at the top of my lungs, there were plenty of other chaotic, crazy loud noises to compete with it.
And yet, Max heard. More than that. He stopped. He hesitated.
It gave me the time I needed to reach him.
Considering this breakneck adventure, when I came to a stop, I collapsed down, locked my hands on my knees, and battled to suck in enough air. I turned my head up and faced him. “Max… there’s more to this situation. More I haven’t told you. I don’t know what you’re planning to do, but it won’t work. McCain’s too smart. Too strong. He’s been planning this for hundreds of years.”
“Chi, I know all of that. I know what that monster is. Now let me destroy him. I’m the only one who can.”
Max pressed forward and pushed into another run.
Just before he could shoot out of sight, I rocked forward, wrapped my arms around his, and held him in place. To be honest, considering how weak I was after my combined fights with McCain, the Lonely King, and this very dump, I couldn’t hold a fly, let alone Max.
It didn’t matter.
He stopped. He angled his head down to me. “Let me go, Chi. This is the only way.”
“No. You’re going to kill yourself. If McCain dies, so do you.”
There was a protracted pause. It brought my attention to how stiffly Max stood there. As my arms were wrapped around his elbow, I swore it felt as if I were holding a marble statue in place. His muscles were so pronounced as they pressed against mine, it was a surprise they didn’t twang.
“This is what I deserve, Chi. It’s what we’ve always deserved. It finally took you to free me. And thank you.” With that, he pulled free.
“No,” I shrieked. “Max, please. Come back. Max.” But this time, there was no stopping him. He shot off through the dump, and soon I lost him in the mess of metal and floating trash.
I sunk down to my knees as the futility of the situation struck me. Though McCain was in full swing, and not even the combined efforts of the witches could hold him back, I instinctively knew that Max would be different. As a scrap of his soul, he’d have a direct way to fight McCain.
And if I couldn’t get there in time….
Chapter 9
Though it was futile, and I had absolutely no hope to run Max down, I ran full pelt toward him.
The sacred knife was still clutched in my hand. I fancied it had lost a little of its power ever since I’d used it to destroy McCain’s sword.
In fact, as I ran, the unmistakable crackle that had once shot through my palms as I clutched it started to wane.
Great. It was my only weapon. My only hope.
No, a voice rose unbidden from my mind. It had the same strong tones as Mary, the same unflappable determination.
No, there was another way.
It was time for me to come to a new understanding of my power.
But that was a rather big ask while I was still running full pelt through this crazy magical dump toward an enraged sorcerer king.
Still, as my boots skidded over the gravel and I kept dodging whatever magical junk sailed overhead, I pressed my mind into the task.
Because there had to be away. Had to be some balance I alone could find.
Yes, strong magic cost, but I’d seen Mary use her abilities to fend McCain off. So there had to be some balance.
As I shifted through the dump, I saw there were barely any witches left to fight off McCain. Though I’d managed to steal his sword from him, apparently that didn’t matter. His rage counted for everything as stray charges of some of the most powerful magic I’d ever
