D. Jackson - Dead Man's reach

“I take it we’re walking now,” Sephira said, her voice dry.

“I’m not sure what we’re looking for,” Ethan said, shielding his eyes against the glare with an open hand, and scanning the road. “But I assume that wherever Ramsey is hiding will be guarded by at least one man.”

The northern end of New Boston sloped gently to the water’s edge, affording them a view of the streets and buildings to the north. Near Barton’s Point and Berry’s Shipyard sat several rope yards and their warehouses. Ethan paused and pointed, looking at Mariz.

“There?” Ethan asked.

“I am not certain. Perhaps.”

They walked on, trailed by the carriage, now empty, and Sephira’s gang of toughs.

“He may not have men guarding whatever building he is in,” Mariz said. “It is possible he believes detection spells are more reliable.”

It was a fair point. Detection spells were conjurings that worked much as did a spider’s web: They only took effect when someone or something came in contact with a primary spell. Once disturbed, this first conjuring tripped a second. Ramsey had used them against Ethan and his allies during their last encounter.

Sephira regarded them, fists on her hips. “So, it’s possible that we could be attacked by witchery at any moment, without warning. Is that right?”

“Aye,” Ethan said.

“Whatever your faults, Ethan, outings with you are never dull.”

They walked on past Lee’s Shipyard. No one spoke, but the turning of carriage wheels and the footsteps of more than a dozen on ice-crusted snow were loud enough to alert all to their approach. Ethan felt exposed on the open road; it was only a matter of time before Ramsey’s men spotted them.

Ethan kept his eyes trained on the rope yard warehouses. He saw nothing there that made him believe one of them held Ramsey and his crew, but still his gaze was drawn to the buildings. When they reached the lane, Ethan turned westward.

“Why are you turning here?” Mariz asked.

“I don’t know. I sense that Ramsey is in one of those warehouses. If you think he’s elsewhere, say so. Otherwise I’m going this way.”

Mariz shared a glance with Sephira and shrugged. They followed him.

The street ended at Wiltshire; Ethan turned to the north once more. And as the others joined him on the broader lane, he caught a glimpse at last of what he had been searching for. The door to one of the warehouses swung open and then closed again with a sharp crack that reached his ears a second later.

“Did you see that?” Ethan asked, pointing again.

“I heard something,” Mariz said. “That is all.”

“Someone entered that warehouse.”

Sephira gave a doubtful look. “And you think it was Ramsey?”

“I don’t know. Whoever it was couldn’t be seen. I believe he was under a concealment spell.”

“So, Ramsey knows now that we are coming.” Mariz removed his spectacles and wiped the lenses with a kerchief. “Perhaps it is time to use a spell.”

“What sort?” Ethan asked.

“I would like to know if he has cast detection spells. During our previous encounter, he nearly killed us all with them.”

“You know such a spell?” Sephira asked.

“We do now,” Ethan answered. “Each of us made a point of learning it after our last battle.” To Mariz he said, “As you say, they know we’re here; there’s no longer any reason not to cast it.”

Sephira’s man shrugged off his coat and pushed up his sleeve. Ethan did the same.

“I can cast the spell, Kaille.”

“We’ll cast together,” Ethan said. “As we did the last time we fought him. Our spells will be stronger.”

Mariz nodded.

“Ensnarements of magick,” Ethan said. “That would be the wording, I think.”

“Yes, that is how I learned it as well.”

Taking care to match their movements, they cut their forearms and then said together, “ Pateant omnes insidiae magicae, ex cruore evocatum. ” Let all ensnarements of magick be unveiled, conjured from blood.

The spell roared in the street, spreading from where they stood as would a finding spell used to locate a conjurer.

An instant later, Sephira let out a small gasp.

Mere feet in front of them, a thin wall of aqua power shimmered faintly in the bright daylight. Several yards past this barrier stood another. A third wavered in the sun closer to the warehouse, and still another awaited them just before the warehouse door. As the spell he and Mariz had cast continued to wash over New Boston, other walls appeared blocking other routes to the warehouse. There were even barriers shimmering over the water. He could see no way to approach the building without setting off at least three conjurings.

“There must be a dozen of them,” Sephira said. “How can that be? These streets aren’t as crowded as those in other parts of Boston, but they’re not deserted, either.”

“I would imagine,” Ethan said, “that they only work if a conjurer disturbs the primary spell. If Mariz touches that barrier, or if I do, the second spell will be made active. But you and your men can walk through them at will. Ramsey doesn’t fear you.”

“He should.”

Ethan didn’t answer, and Sephira, despite her brave words, gave no indication that she intended to go on without him.

“We should ward them,” Ethan said, after considering the detection spells for some time.

Sephira shook her head. Ethan knew that she disliked relying on “witchery” for anything, much less the safety of herself and her men. “I thought your wardings didn’t work against Ramsey’s spells,” she said.

“My wardings can stop spells such as these. But they haven’t worked against whatever conjuring he is using to gain access to my power. It was for those spells that Mariz cast the warding in your home.”

“Fine,” she said, sounding impatient. “Get on with it.”

Together, Ethan and Mariz placed a warding spell on their entire company-themselves, as well as Sephira and her other men. Ethan hoped that it would hold against the detection spells Ramsey had cast.

Uncle Reg had appeared beside Mariz’s spectral guide and was regarding Sephira with unconcealed hostility. Even if Ethan was willing to trust her for this day, his ghost remained wary.

I want you to stay with me. He didn’t speak the words aloud, but Reg perceived them anyway. The ghost’s gaze found his and he nodded his assent.

“You and your men should wait here,” Ethan said to Sephira. “Mariz and I will go ahead. When we’ve dealt with all the spells, you can join us.”

“That’s not what we agreed to back at my home.”

“I didn’t know then how many detection spells Ramsey would cast. Let me do this, Sephira. You can’t help us with these spells, but you can be killed by them.”

She glowered, tight-lipped, her eyes shockingly blue in the bright glare of the sun and snow. “Fine.”

Ethan and Mariz edged closer to the first shimmering barrier. If the detection spells Ramsey had used last summer were any indication, this first spell would simply alert Ramsey to their approach-it would be the second, third, and fourth that were intended to kill. Then again, Ramsey could hardly be called predictable.

They halted inches from the spell and exchanged looks. Ethan raised his hand to the level of his chest.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

Mariz planted his feet and dipped his chin once.

Ethan extended his hand to the glowing wall of magick.

As soon as he grazed the barrier with his palm, the ground shook with the power of Ramsey’s conjuring. A ball of fire flew from the wall, striking Ethan in the chest and lifting him off the lane.

He landed on his back almost at Sephira’s feet, dazed, his back and chest aching. Flames burned on his waistcoat and licked at his face and neck and chest. Heat, pain; for a panicked instant, he thought that his warding had failed and that he was on fire. He began to roll back and forth, only to realize that the flames were neither spreading nor going out. Indeed, though he could feel the heat of them, they weren’t actually burning his clothing or his flesh. He stopped trying to put out the fire and climbed to his feet, feeling like he had been run over by Sephira’s carriage.