Spellcaster series #4: The Virtuoso

Dean Ryans On My Trail

HEIDI

Tristan began to move about like he was snapped back into his usual self. His face was grave as his red aura started to glow.

"We'll need to leave now," he tugged my arm. I stood up.

"What's going—"

He pulled me close to him and chanted, "Homewardial Transportatus!"

Nothing. I felt his heart hammer in his chest. I hadn't been that close to him in a while.

He cussed under his breath—a word I had never heard him utter for as long as I knew him. His ruby eyes darted around the small back room as if he was searching for something. I stared, confused, and something in me was telling me to be afraid.

"We'll need to leave through the back door," he said, his voice low and wary.

He took my hand—I didn't have time to pack my things—and led me to the door. But before we did, it opened first. He pulled me behind him, shoulders tense and feet apart.

"Do you have your knife, Heidi?" He asked without turning. His voice was low and grave.

I pulled it out from my holster. "Always."

Then a third, awfully familiar voice floated from the doorway. He stepped into view as soon as he spoke.

"Well, well, look who we have here."

My stomach twisted. His entrances were always the least expected. Or welcomed.

"Dean," Tristan spoke, almost a snarl. His red aura was pulsating.

Dean Ryans stood by the doorway. His red hair shone in the light, golden eyes boring onto Tristan.

"Don't bother with your magic, Embers," he said before pointing a finger to a drawn symbol above the door frame. It was shaped like an eye. "It's an anti-magic rune."

"Leave now before I make you," Tristan threatened him unwaveringly. Nothing was an unfair fight to him.

Dean walked into the room. I readied my dagger. He had a pair of loafers on which tapped onto the bare concrete floor.

"You were looking for me at the auction, weren't you, Embers?" Then he made the tut-tutting sound. "I thought Wynona would be smarter than that."

"That was a ruse?"

"I needed you three musketeers to be distracted while I come pick up my Heidi," Dean answered with a wink.

I grimaced.

Tristan did not return a word and glowered his eyes. I moved to his side with my dagger out towards the lunatic.

Dean flickered his gaze towards me. His lips broke into a wide, oily smile. "There she is."

"You're not getting her," Tristan spoke. "I will kill you if I have to, Dean!"

"Then do it!" Dean taunted. "Or is that just another one of the Sage's promises; empty and unfulfilled?

Tristan swung a fist but Dean evaded. Then, out of nowhere, a sickle pierced through Tristan's abdomen like a hook. He gasped, eyes wide as Renee lifted him off the ground like a fisherman holding up his prize.

The moments that followed after were like a silent film. I knew I screamed for Tristan. She then proceeded to unhook and toss him to the floor. I tried to hold him but Renee held my shoulders.

I felt the cold energy rise in me.

Tristan was bleeding profusely into his maroon vest. His pale fingers felt for the wound as he tried to summon his blue aura. Of course, no energy was channeled so his healing magic was blocked.