Illusory

Chapter 19

I lurched to my feet, and the man did the same across from me, eyes wide in fear and surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, probably to yell for help, but I covered his words with a cry of "Rotundtur Flamma!" I thrust my hand out before me, images of fire filling my mind, and a ball of blazing flame sprang forth and bowled through the short man, his armchair, and the wall behind him.

The crackling of the fire died away much sooner than I expected, and I could clearly hear the sounds of footsteps on a set of old, creaky stairs. I gazed at the charred corpse of the short man for a moment longer, took in the sight of the broken and burned armchair and the still-burning hole in the wall, then turned in the direction of the thundering footsteps.

"What was that?" a tall, gaunt man with a hollow-cheeked face cried as he entered the room through the door Rick had used to take his exit. He first caught sight of the chair and the hole in the wall and the corpse, then he saw me. "What are you doing?!" he screamed. "What have you done?!" He raised a hand, likely preparing to perform some magic, but I beat him to it.

"Rotundtur Flamma!" Another fireball formed before my outstretched hand, and it tore its way through the tall man, the two men behind him, and another wall. Three corpses littered the ground now, one of them still lightly aflame. Rick stepped over them with a chuckle, appearing out of nowhere, it seemed.

"I didn't know you were a practitioner, too," he laughed, stopping in the singed doorway. "If I had, I would've done to you what I'd done to him, no matter how cute you are." He raised his hand as the first man had, but I couldn't beat him to the punch. "Fulgur!" I heard a clap of thunder outside, then a loud cracking sound, followed by another one, closer now, and some instinctual urge sent me rolling sideways across the floor. A split second later, a bolt of lightning shot straight through the wood of the floor with a loud crash much like the ones I'd heard before, and I held a hand in front of my face to ward off the flying debris.

Oh, shit, I thought, staggering to my feet and gazing at Rick's smirking face with wide eyes. Oh, shit! He could create fucking lightning. Not just a little shock. Full-on fucking lightning. I was so, so screwed. My eyes darted to where my purse lay a few yards away, having flown from my hand during the commotion without my noticing. Please come out, Krekkel. I think I'm going to need your help.

"Fulgur!" Rick yelled again, and there was another clap of thunder and the sounds of another bolt of lightning tearing through the roof. I dove to the side again, toward my purse, and the bolt shot through the floor and into the basement just as the last one had.

I reached for the purse, but it was much too far away. Wouldn't Krekkel have been out by now, anyway? Oh, God. What if she's gone?! I began to panic, bolting to my feet and spinning to face Rick's cruelly smiling face once more. I might be on my own here. Surely she would've broken free by now if she were still around. Surely. She was a giant, magical cat, for Christ's sake. There was no way in hell a tiny purse could hold her! Or, at least, that's what I hoped as Rick shouted again, "Fulgur!"

I dove as another rumble of thunder rolled through the house, but this time, Rick followed. He dove on top of me as I fell to the floor behind the couch, pinning me down with his body against mine. "Stop fighting it," he half laughed, half growled in my ear, and his damp breath on my skin was nothing like Van's. "I'm going to kill you. You have no chance of escape."

I glared into his eyes, trying to fight off my rising panic with burning hatred, the hatred that had come from this man's lying to me, leading me on, and promising to kill my friend. "Pectust Introrumpo," I said calmly, coolly, boldly, still gazing right into his dark brown eyes. Those eyes, those cocky, too-cool eyes, widened in shock, but soon drifted to half-mast, momentarily empty and unseeing. It didn't even hurt this time — not until he started to fight. I could feel him squirming around in my grasp, burning and freezing me all at once as I tried to contain him. I fought to keep my hold, though, and I forced him to crawl off of me and lie on the hardwood floor next to me. I kept him there, still squabbling with him in my mind, as I lurched to my feet and went for my purse once again.