The Necromancer Trilogy - Black Magic

Chapter Thirteen - Beginning To Fall

“Run!” Adele hauled on Blue’s arm. “For god’s sake, run!”

She dashed ahead, a blur of colour against the snow, before doubling back to hurry him along again.

“Why can’t you teleport?” she screamed, in frustration.

Blue didn’t answer, all his breath conserved for running. Behind him, a plume of smoke stained the ivory sky black as their wooden cabin burned. Close by, too close, the sounds of shouts and footsteps plunging through snow were approaching all the time.

“Blue!” Adele yelled. “Blue, get on with it!”

There was blood pouring down her arm and smeared over her face, clinging to her eyelashes as it dried, but she didn’t seem to have noticed. Her hair and eyes were wild, her face pale, panic shining from her like a warning light.

 Blue wasn’t in much better shape, his eye once again blackened and turning purple. He was knee-deep in snow, struggling forward with gritted teeth and ice frosting to his face. He couldn’t teleport because he didn’t know where to go.

“Come on!” Adele cried. “They are getting closer!”

She pulled a gun from the waistband of her unicorn-decorated pyjamas, firing at a black slash coming up fast on Blue’s right. It fell, a dark exclamation mark lying still against the snowy page of the mountain.

“Get out, Adele,” Blue panted, lips blue with cold, emergency bag bouncing on his shoulders. “Take the bag and run.”

“No,” Adele fired again, taking down another target. “Drop.”

Blue fell forward, landing face first in the snow. A jet of fire streaked over his head, turned the ice crystals to liquid, before being abruptly cut off at the same time as Adele’s gun cracked again.

“Now up,” she dragged him to his feet, snow plastering his face, and pushed him forward. “Run, Blue, run!”

She pulled the rucksack from his shoulders, slinging it onto her back. She spun on her heels, sunken in snow, and sprinted off to make sure nobody was hiding out of her sight. The bang of the gun echoed off the mountainside, terrifyingly loud, bouncing off valleys until it filled the whole world.

“Adele,” Blue gasped, struggling on, when she returned, “You need to get out.”

She ducked, rolling across the snow and springing to her feet again.

“Not a chance,” she growled, through gritted teeth. “I’m not leaving you.”

Blue sighed and lowered his head, pushing doggedly on but getting nowhere. He was frozen, his face and fingers blue with cold. His boots flapped undone on his icy feet. He was wearing pyjamas, having been startled at night by the attack.

 The sounds had come without warning, an explosion of heat that had singed the hairs on his head and jerked him from deep, dreamless sleep into desperate wakefulness in one instant. He hadn’t even thought to react, throwing on his shoes and grabbing the emergency bag from the door.

 Adele had met him at the door, boots on her feet and gun stuffed into her pyjama trousers. Neither had coats or gloves, neither had a chance to worry. They were running when the fire hit, turning the snow around their feet to water and crisping the ends of their hair. The friendly little cabin was eliminated.

 There was nowhere to turn. Blue was struggling on but they could only last so far. There was nowhere for miles; that had been the whole point. Now, it seemed like a design flaw in their perfect plan. They were going to die.