Neither of our captors spoke.
“Andy,” I said, referencing Annie’s dead, invisible brother. She stiffened at his name. “Can you tell your sister to lower her weapon?”
“Stop it,” Annie said.
“What’s that, Andy? Did you say something?”
“Stop it!”
“Annie’s feet smell like old yogurt? Yeah, I agree with you. She should probably wash them every once in a while. You’re super duper right. Her breath does smell like skunk butt. Do you think she even owns a toothbrush?”
The Raven, much to my chagrin—I doubt I even used that correctly, but I love the word—pistol-whipped me across the skull. My body went hot with pain, and the cabin darkened and hazed around me. I groped for air. Blood slid down the back of my neck. The Raven placed both guns against my cheekbones again.
“I got one,” I muttered, though my head throbbed with each word. “Knock, knock.” If everyone on God’s green earth could infuriate me with knocking, well, I could do the same to them. No one responded, not even Xander, so I took the liberty. “Who’s there? Cow says. Cow says who?” I paused and grinned. “No, cow says moo.” I chuckled. “Want to hear another one?”
Xander, that sweet angel of mine, smirked and said, “Sure.”
“How do you make holy water?” I asked, though I glared at Xander. “And don’t ruin it. I know you know this joke.”
The Raven didn’t say anything—not surprising. This question probably seemed like equating high-level calculus to it. Annie gritted her teeth, averting her gaze.
“No one?” I asked. “Fine. Xander, do you know it?”
“I actually don’t,” he said, still playing along. Maybe there was a little life left in that old bag of bones after all.
“All right,” I said, clearing my throat. “You boil—”
“Enough!” the Raven said. “Another word, I shoot you in the foot.”
I rolled my eyes. What a buzzkill.
Maybe it was time to start this party. Since clouds had layered over the sun, shadows now coated the inside of the cabin. Though I’d failed to reach my new magic a few minutes ago, I wondered if it swelled a little higher now. The other times I’d been able to access it, I’d been under duress—my adrenaline all bonkers from trying to survive. With two guns shoved against my beautiful cheekbones and a shotgun pressed to Xander’s spine, I figured I might be able to access it now. The question was, should I?
If I used the power now, I could kill our two captors and surprise whoever meant to surprise us. But there was a chance they had set up a mental alarm system in anticipation of something happening to the Raven or Annie, and it would alert whoever we waited for. If that were the case, then they would know about my new ability, though. Right? Or am I overthinking this? My second option was to do nothing and wait for the situation to play itself out. That was our least likely chance of surviving this encounter, though.
We had to change the playing field to make them uncomfortable, to make them adapt.
It didn’t take much effort this time to find a crevice in the icy lake to breathe through. Inhaling the fresh power, I called to the shadows, and they wrapped around me like a blanket. They possessed a cold, malleable form, like clay. I didn’t believe anyone noticed what was happening, as the entire cabin was already drenched in darkness, but Xander glared at me, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Had he noticed? How? Our captors hadn’t even flinched, appearing completely oblivious.
Pushing Xander’s judgments from my mind, I called for the shadows to enshroud me in their darkness. They obeyed, rolling over my skin like a shell. Then, like some asshole in Mario Kart, I launched that spinning shell like a percussive force. The Raven was lifted from the ground, slamming against the wall near the stove.
I leaped from my seat, the chair tumbling to the floor. My fingers tingled from the raw use of magic, and my head swam with power. My headache had gone the way of the dodo bird, and the pains in my right hand and my stomach and my ribs had followed. Using this level of power was a high in and of itself. Without the proper training—which is why universities were created—an untrained Sorcerer could become addicted to it. It’s like that old mantra—power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
From the ground, the Raven said, “The fuck?” It glanced around the room, baffled. “Kill Xander. They only want Joseph.”
Annie didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger at point-blank range.
I screamed, stepping through a shadow to appear beside Annie and disarm her, but my lack of control placed me beside the toppled Raven. Taking the lemons that life gave me, I grabbed the creature’s hair with my left hand and pulled its face forward to meet my driving knee. When its body went limp, I shoved the Raven to the floor. Forming a spiked stake from the malleable shadows, I shattered its spine, nailing the creature to the floorboards.
“You going to finish that punchline?” Xander asked, still sitting in his chair, completely intact and alive. He had one leg crossed over the other, and his hands rested in his lap. Over him, Annabel fumbled with the break-action of her shotgun, trying to stuff a shell into one of the barrels with trembling hands.
I couldn’t help but smile, though the exercise felt strange and alien on my face. His sense of humor really was returning. Miracles do exist. I strolled around the table—not sidestepping into a shadow this time, fearing I might end up in Milwaukee. That would be a real nightmare.
Annie saw me approaching her. “Andy! What do I do?”
“He says to drop the shotgun,” I said, “and take a seat. Sit in my chair.”
Annie’s eyes danced around the
