“It does.” His pace slowed as we neared the curve. “It vaguely feels like magic.”
“Oh, that can’t be good.”
“I’m thinking that’s an understatement.” The spell twined around his fingers glowed brighter. “I’m not seeing any threads though.”
I stepped sideways to get a better view. The path ahead continued to curve around to the right; despite the shadows and the faint caress of evil and magic, there was no indication a spell had been activated. “Maybe she’s hidden them.”
“Maybe.” There was doubt in his tone.
“Has the pulse from the blood changed at all?”
“It’s almost nonexistent now. But that could simply be because it’s dried and the connection’s been severed.”
I eyed the path ahead with trepidation. “What do you want to do?”
“We have to go on—I don’t think we’ve got any other choice. The last thing we need is for a werewolf or a hiker to spring a trap set for us.”
“Agreed, although can I just state that I’m not altogether happy about us springing the trap, either.”
He glanced at me. “You can remain behind.”
“And risk losing the only relative I actually like? No.”
“The problem with that statement is the fact that if you get hurt, my future wife won’t be happy.”
Too right, Belle said. And seriously, tell him to cut it out with the ‘future wife’ stuff. It’s getting annoying.
“The future wife,” I said obediently, “wishes you to stop calling her that.”
He chuckled softly and, in that moment, we heard it.
A soft snap.
We both stopped and glanced down.
The sound hadn’t come from Monty stepping on a bit of wood or anything else so mundane.
Its source had been a spell—a thread of magic we hadn’t seen and still couldn’t see. The broken remnants of whatever spell had been stretched across the path remained invisible—only the slight echo of its power floating away on the breeze gave its presence away.
For several heartbeats, neither of us moved. The broken threads continued to drift away, but there was no immediate indication that anything untoward was about to happen.
“Maybe it was just an alarm of some kind.”
His whisper scratched across both the silence and my nerves. I scanned the area, looking for anything that suggested there were caves or some other kind of hiding spot nearby. There wasn’t any sort of rock outcrop, big or small. Nothing but trees clinging to the edge of the path, partially hiding the steep drop down to the ravine.
“Why would she set an alarm here?” I whispered back. “It makes no—”
I cut off the rest of the sentence as the ground vibrated. It was little more than a faint tremble that came and went, but it nevertheless had tension ramping up several notches.
A heartbeat later, a second shudder ran through the ground, sharper and stronger than before. This time, it came from behind us rather than underneath us.
Understanding hit, though it came from my connection to this mountain—to the magic that welled from deep within it—rather than any understanding of what the spell had been.
I thrust a hand onto Monty’s back and shoved him forward. “Run!”
He flailed for a heartbeat, then caught his balance and did so, all but flying across the top of the ridge. The rumbling grew stronger, louder, and the trees around us quivered and shook.
This goddamn section of the ridge was about to slip into the ravine.
“Faster, Monty!”
He swung up an arm to bat away the branches of a tree that swayed so badly it looked storm-tossed. “I’m running as fast I fucking can!”
I leapt over a branch that crashed between us, slipped on sliding soil, and stumbled forward several steps before I caught my balance and ran on.
Huge chunks of ground were now breaking away, taking with it scrub and smaller trees. It forced us to dodge and weave, which slowed us and only increased the danger.
Then, with a whoomph that hurt my ears, the entire section we were on collapsed into the ravine.
Chapter Nine
I dropped like a stone for several feet, a scream on my lips and terror in my heart. I hit the broken earth hard enough to have pain shimmering up my spine and tumbled forward, surrounded by a deadly rain of earth, rocks, and broken bits of trees. Felt the surge of magic when I hit the ground a second time, felt it rise around me. Saw a flash of blue to my right and instinctively flung out a hand, somehow grabbing Monty’s. His fingers twitched, tightened on mine, even as the magic continued to surge. It wasn’t witch magic, but wild. It flowed over me, over Monty, forming a connection that somehow pulled us into each other’s arms even as it created a shimmering barrier between the worst of the landslide and us.
But it didn’t stop us falling; didn’t stop the bruises and cuts as we rolled and bounced sideways down the hill.
Then, abruptly, my back hit stone and we stopped. I cursed, blinking back tears of pain and sucking in air as hurt rolled through every inch of me. The broken hillside continued to slide past us, but the shimmering barrier of wild magic forced the worst of it away from us.
Neither of us moved. I don’t think either of us dared. Eventually, the tumble of debris eased. As the shimmer of wild magic faded, I became aware of the wave of pain washing through my thoughts and sent a panicked, Belle? Are you okay?
Yes. Aiden sensed the onset of the landslide and got us both off the ridge.
Then why are you in pain?
I twisted my ankle on the way down. Aiden went into hero mode and carried me. She paused. What about you and Monty? We couldn’t see what happened from where we were.
We sprung the Manananggal’s trap, which is what set off the landslide. The wild magic saved us, Belle. I didn’t call it—it just came.
Meaning the connection is deepening into an instinctive response level—and I guess that’s no real surprise given it’s embedded in your DNA.
Yes, but it’s problematic. I definitely don’t need an
