Lori Devoti - Amazon Ink

“Melanippe.” Bubbe’s hand shot upward too. Wind smacked into my face; I fell backward onto my butt.

As I clambered to stand, Peter moved. Within seconds he was beside Dana, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder. He murmured something to her. I couldn’t hear his words, but I could see their effect on Dana. Her shoulder lost the rounding of defeat and her chin rose.

Glad to have someone on my side, even if it was just a man and a hearth-keeper, I faced Alcippe and my grandmother. “You can’t make her go against her will.”

“It isn’t against her will. She wants to go. Don’t you, Dana?” The door to outside was wide open; Pisto stood this side of it. A light breeze shifted her hair. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the breeze growing, until it clawed at her hair, wrapped around her, and jerked her out of the basement, left her defeated and winded outside on the dirt.

As if reading my thoughts, Bubbe moved again, this time casting as she did. A bubble clamped down around me. I couldn’t see it, didn’t think anyone else could either, but I could feel it-and I could see the expression on my grandmother’s face. Whatever she was doing was costing her.

Guessing at her game, I twitched my fingers, tried to reach the wind-nothing. Bubbe had shut me off, dropped me into a vacuum.

I pulled in a breath, ready to fight dirty if necessary, but then Peter moved behind her, reminding me we weren’t alone. What Bubbe had done was subtle. What I would have to do to break free wouldn’t be. Was I ready to expose myself and the Amazons that completely?

Pisto stepped farther into the room. “C’mon, Dana. Time to go home.” Her hand lowered to her sais, two tridentlike weapons shoved into her belt. She pulled one out, spun it around so the long end ran parallel to her arm and the forked end was concealed by her hand.

Peter murmured something else to Dana, then the pair turned and started walking away from Pisto toward the main stairs that led to my shop and living area instead.

Alcippe thrust out an arm. A curtain of dirt, jerked from every corner of my unswept basement, rose from the floor. The noise was deafening. It was like being part of a landslide, except the earth was moving sideways, then upward.

Her arm out straight, Alcippe held the wall, cutting off the path Peter and Dana had been about to take.

“Pisto, get your sister,” Alcippe ordered. Then she looked at me. “I won’t let you tear us apart again.”

That was it. I’d had enough, and the dirt wall Alcippe had set in front of Peter pretty much gave away the whole magic thing anyway. I sucked in a breath and prepared to blast my way out of Bubbe’s bubble. As I did, I realized I didn’t need to. My grandmother had quit chanting, let whatever had been cutting me off disintegrate.

I jerked my attention to her, but she had her back turned and seemed to be concentrating on Peter instead. He looked dazed, lost. His arm was still around Dana, but I could tell he had no idea where he was…what was happening around him.

I wondered briefly if Bubbe had teamed with Alcippe to stop Peter’s exit with Dana, but as quickly as the thought appeared, I dismissed it. My grandmother was a cat at heart. Most high priestesses were. They didn’t work as a team.

Bottom line, she was more concerned with shielding Peter from learning something he shouldn’t, something that might cost him his life later, than in keeping me from battling with Alcippe.

Maybe she even wanted me to finally face my old nemesis.

I pulled in a breath and prepared to blow Alcippe’s curtain back to the four corners of my home.

My lungs had just started to fill when the outside door creaked and a voice filled with authority called out, “What’s going on here?”

Detective Reynolds stood in the doorway, a gun in his hand.

Pisto whirled. I didn’t stop to think, just made a swiping motion with my hand while I released the little bit of air that I’d gathered. The wind wrapped around her feet, tripping her.

She fell, her sais smashing into the cement floor. To my right Alcippe moved too. Her wall of dirt collapsed as she did, clouding the room until all of us were coughing and choking, fighting our way through the dust storm caused by my wind and Alcippe’s dirt. Somehow, through the mess, Peter found me. His hand gripped me by the arm and he dragged me forward toward the door. My tennis shoes slid over loose dirt. I almost lost my footing but, head down, he kept pulling. As we reached the door, I realized he had Dana by the arm too.

The three of us stumbled up the steps into the clean air. Dana collapsed on the grass, her hands on her belly, her eyes huge. I dropped to my knees beside her, assured her she was okay, that her baby was okay.

Behind me I could hear Pisto yelling, demanding I step away from her sister, but I ignored her. I didn’t know who or what was keeping her from launching herself onto my back and I didn’t care. I felt Dana’s fear like my own. I wasn’t going to leave her here to wallow in it alone.

Finally, with Dana cradled in my arms, her face pressed against my chest, I turned my attention to what was going on around us. Peter, his normally casual posture abandoned, stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, his body coiled as if ready to spring. It was an alert, almost aggressive stance I’d never witnessed him take.

It was unsettling-like he was an entirely different person from the one I thought I’d come to know, but also disturbingly reassuring. It was nice to have someone else on guard, to be able to concentrate on comforting Dana without worrying about an attack from behind. It was nice not having to be the strong one. A piece of me screamed at the sacrilegious thought, but I couldn’t deny that another part of me almost sighed with relief-even if it was for only a few moments.

The sound of Pisto screaming again, this time just a general cry of outrage, pulled my attention away from Peter and to the chaotic scene playing out in the small space between my shop and the gym. Seemed like everyone was there-Amazons, my employees, and a few customers. Even the dog had reappeared. He sat in the back as if unsure whether to dive into the melee or run for cover.

But the real sight was the main players-those who had been in the basement when the curtain fell. Reynolds, Bubbe, Alcippe, and Pisto, all coated in dust, stood on the other side of the basement stairwell.

Dirt continued to spiral out of the open basement door; it made seeing exactly what was going on a challenge. But I couldn’t miss Pisto’s yells or the fact that someone or something was keeping her from coming over the open stairwell at me.

Giving Dana one last reassuring pat, I stood. Enough of letting Peter carry the load. I needed to be ready to fight.

At this angle I could see that Mother, looking calm and clean, had Pisto gripped around the waist. The Amazon lieutenant leaned forward, a crazed look in her eyes. Somehow she’d lost her sais. I could see them lying on the ground a few feet away. One side of her face also appeared to be swelling, making me guess Mother’s calm demeanor was deceptive.

To their left, Alcippe and Bubbe seemed to be involved in a battle of their own. I couldn’t tell if magic or only wills were involved, but it was obvious the two were attempting to gain control of each other in some manner.

Reynolds stood facing all of them. He’d lost his jacket and his gun was back in its holster. He had his back to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but his hands were shaking. By the way he held them, I had to guess he was trying to decide if holstering his gun had been a wise choice. But from the basement doorway, all he’d seen was an explosion of dirt and now coughing, if tense, people. I doubted if, on paper, either would look like a justified reason to pull a gun.