D. Jackson - A Plunder of Souls

“So all three spells were cast while you were on the water?” Ethan asked.

“Aye.”

“Those were the conjurings we felt,” Mariz said. “They were powerful because they were cast on water.”

“He wants you to go there, Ethan,” Gavin said. “He’s waiting for you. That was the other thing he said: He wants to destroy you and use your shade to complete his mastery of the realm where our power dwells. And he wants to avenge himself upon you for using the shade of his father against him. He said that, too. If you go there, you’ll be helping him. You’ll be walking into an ambush.”

Ethan shrugged. “I never expected to surprise him.”

“You’re going anyway?”

“Aye. You’ve done us a great service, Gavin. And we owe you our thanks for trying to reason with Ramsey. But we have to face him. He’s not going to leave Boston of his own accord, and none of us is safe so long as he remains here.”

The old man took a long breath. “I should come with you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I know. But if something happens to one of you, and I’m not there, I’ll never forgive myself. I’m not brave. We both know that. But I need to do this.”

Ethan’s gaze strayed to Janna. She nodded, but Ethan saw some reluctance in her dark eyes.

“All right.” He marked the position of the sun, which had already begun its descent across the western sky. “We’ve learned to conjure together, to combine our power. We don’t have time to teach you. I want to face Ramsey during the day, when he can’t call up his army of shades. So you’ll watch us and learn, or you’ll have to conjure on your own and hope that some of your spells work.”

“That’s fine,” Gavin said.

“Does this mean we’re ready to go?” Sephira asked, sounding a bit like a bored child.

“Aye.” Ethan stepped closer to her. “You and your men need to take the fight to Ramsey’s crew. Leave the captain himself to us. You can’t beat him with blades and bullets.”

“Why, Ethan, one might almost think you were worried about me.”

Ethan didn’t so much as quirk a corner of his mouth. “I don’t want him dead, at least not until he has released the shades he controls.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“It matters to me. I’m serious, Sephira.”

She didn’t flinch under his gaze; her eyes were like chips of ice. “So am I.”

“Fight the crew,” he said again. “Let us handle Ramsey.”

Sephira said nothing, but at last she gave a single curt nod.

They returned to the street and began the long march to the North End. Once more, Nap, Gordon, and Afton led the way, followed by Sephira, Ethan and the other conjurers, and the rest of Sephira’s toughs. As they walked, Ethan felt several new conjurings thrum in the cobblestones, one after another.

“What do you suppose he is doing?” Mariz asked after the fourth or fifth pulse.

“If I was in his position, and I knew that we were coming, I would cast detection spells, and I would tie each one to a different sort of attack.”

“I would do something similar. We should ward ourselves, and we should walk at the fore.”

“I agree,” Ethan said. He called for Nap and the others to halt.

“What now?” Sephira demanded.

“Ramsey is casting spells,” Mariz said. “We need to ward ourselves, and then we will lead the rest of you there.”

“Can you ward all of us?” Sephira asked.

“I believe we can.” Sephira’s man turned to Ethan and Janna. “ Tegimen, omnibus nostrum, ex cruore evocatum. ” Warding, all of us, conjured from blood. “That would be the wording, correct?”

Ethan deferred to Janna, who nodded. “Sounds right to me.”

They positioned themselves shoulder-to-shoulder, and waited as their spectral guides joined hands.

“Now,” Ethan said. They cut themselves and chanted the spell. Their power growled in the street, an answer to Ramsey’s conjurings.

“Do you think it worked?” Mariz asked.

“I hope it did. I don’t want to cast it again, lest we make it too clear to Ramsey what we’ve done. Let’s go.” Ethan strode past Sephira, Nap, and the others, and led them on through the streets. Mariz caught up with him a moment later. When Ethan glanced back, he saw that Janna and Gavin were just behind them.

By now they were in the North End; Copp’s Hill loomed before them, the late-afternoon sunlight giving a golden cast to the rooftops of the houses. They walked around the base of the hill on the western side, following Princes Street to Ferry Way, and approaching Drake’s Wharf from the south.

As they came to the ferry dock, Ethan felt the brush of a conjuring on his face.

“Spell!” he had time to say.

He tensed, as did Mariz beside him. But no attack came. Instead, Ethan heard a high-pitched keening, like the cry of some wild beast.

“I guess he knows which direction we’ll be coming from,” Ethan said.

Mariz said nothing. Ethan tightened his grip on his knife.

With his next step, he felt the web of a second detection spell. This time he had no chance to shout a warning. The triggered conjuring slammed into them like a giant hammer, lifting Ethan off his feet so that he flew backward and landed hard on his shoulder. Mariz landed beside him and let out a low groan.

Ethan climbed to his feet and hurried to Janna’s side. She lay on the cobblestone, wincing and gripping her arm.

“How bad is it?” Ethan asked.

“Not as bad as it would have been without that wardin’,” she said. “That was a blade spell. I could taste it in the magick.”

She sat up, rubbed her arm again, and stood. Mariz helped Gavin up. He appeared to be no worse off than Janna. From what Ethan could see, it seemed that Sephira and her men were more surprised than hurt, although they too had been knocked to the ground. If Janna was right-if that had been a blade spell-all of them were fortunate to be alive. If their warding hadn’t withstood the assault, they would have been sliced in half.

“That wasn’t the last of his spells,” Ethan said, drawing the gazes of all of them. “I felt at least six conjurings as we walked here. Assuming that he set detection spells on both sides of the wharf, there could still be another one waiting for us.”

“Will your warding hold against another spell?” Sephira asked.

Ethan shrugged. “I hope so.”

She rolled her eyes.

They resumed their advance on the wharf, walking with more care this time. Ethan braced himself for the next assault, knowing that this would do him little good.

He was right.

The touch of the third detection spell felt much like the first two. But this time the pulse of power was far stronger, and the conjuring was directed not at them, but at the cobbled lane beneath their feet.

The street bucked like an untamed horse, and a fissure opened down its center. Once more, all of them were thrown to the ground, like a child’s dolls strewn across a bedroom floor. At least one of Sephira’s men disappeared into the chasm Ramsey’s spell had opened.

Gavin lay writhing on the street, clutching his arm to his belly. Janna was slow to get up, but once more she seemed to have escaped serious injury.

To Ethan’s relief, Afton and Gordon managed to pull Sephira’s man out of the street. And though this third fellow had bloody scrapes on his face and arms, he was able to stand on his own.

“I’ve had just about enough of this, Ethan,” Sephira said, standing and brushing herself off.

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell Ramsey as much.”

“I believe that was the last of the detection spells,” Mariz said. He pointed. They were but a few steps from the edge of Drake’s Wharf.