And so was Clementine.
She was flat on her back, the spear sticking up out of her stomach, the old man's arm still attached to the top of the weapon. She arched up, as if she could somehow wiggle out from under the stone tip, even though it had driven all the way through her body and punched into the walkway underneath. Clementine was pinned as securely as a butterfly in a glass case.
The giant realized that I was staring at her. She snarled and stretched out, her hand curving into a claw as she aimed it at my throat -
And came up two inches short.
Clementine flailed and flailed at me, snarling and grunting and cursing all the while, but she just couldn't move those last two precious inches in order to throttle me. Her fist slammed into the stone walkway between us over and over again in frustration, her movements getting weaker and slower with every glancing blow. After about thirty seconds of that, the last of her strength left her, and her hand dropped to the floor and stayed there.
Still, she glared at me, her eyes bright with pain, fury, and the cold, cold death that was creeping up on her breath by breath.
"Bet you really hate my Stone magic now, don't you?" I said.
Clementine opened her mouth, but no words came out, only a spurt of blood. After a moment, even that slowed and slopped. Her whole body shuddered once, her eyes dimmed, and then she was still.
Chapter 27
I lay where I was and watched Clementine Barker die.
When I was sure she was gone, I put a hand on the walkway and tried to push myself upright. But I moved too quickly, and the pain in my ribs and shoulder was too great. My arm slid out from under me, and I slumped back down onto the cold stone.
I knew that I needed to move, to get up and go see how the others had fared in the rotunda, but I just couldn't make myself do it. My vision narrowed, as though I were standing in a train tunnel, and the light at the end began to fade. Even though I tried to fight it, I felt myself sliding into that sweet blackness where there was no pain, no worry, only the dreams, the memories . . .
I was hiding behind a table, waiting for a giant to come and kill me.
At least, I was pretty sure that's how it would go. But I'd set my trap for Delov anyway, knowing it was the best chance I had to kill him - the only chance, really. Now all that was left to do was see if he fell for it -
A floorboard creaked farther down the hallway.
I drew in a breath, trying to slow my racing heart, and peeked around the edge of the table.
Delov stood at the end of the hall. A patch of moonlight sliding in through the lace curtains illuminated him, making him seem even larger and more dangerous than before. He squinted into the shadows, looking left and right and back again. I froze, not even daring to try to curl into a tighter, smaller ball. After a moment, the giant eased forward, heading toward the library, where Fletcher was still trying to get the yip-yappy Pomeranian to shut up.
Game time.
I waited until Delov had stepped into the library, then got to my feet and tiptoed across the hall, easing up against the wall. The giant snapped on a light, and its harsh golden glare filled the library like the rays of a noontime sun. Peaches started barking even louder. The dog scuttled out from underneath the desk, skipped over to Delov, and wound his way through the giant's feet before prancing back over to the desk. The giant frowned, looking at the dog and watching his happy, excited movements. After a moment, his mouth tightened, and he raised his gun.
"Come on out from behind that desk," Delov growled. "I'd hate to ruin all that antique wood by plugging it full of holes, but I will."
Silence.
Then the leather chair rolled away from the desk, and Fletcher slowly crawled out from his hiding place and got to his feet. He faced Delov and raised his hands. Despite the healing salve he'd used, even more blood covered Fletcher's blue shirt than before, along with the palms of his hands where he'd used them to keep pressure on the wound.
"You thought you could come into my house and murder me?" Delov snarled. "Who do you think you are?"
Fletcher just grinned at him, which only infuriated the giant even more. Delov stepped forward and leveled his gun at Fletcher's head, ready to put a few more bullets into the old man.
And that's when I made my move.
I slid into the library as quiet as a shadow. Delov was so focused on Fletcher that he never thought to look behind him, so he never saw me coming. Instead of going for the giant's back, I aimed low, slicing my knife across his right hamstring as brutally as I could, hoping to put him down on my level, so to speak. Delov let out an angry, pain-filled bellow, even as his leg buckled and slid out from under him. The gun went off, shattering one of the glass windows to Fletcher's right and not the old man's skull.
But Delov wasn't done. He rolled over onto his back, bringing his gun up and around and searching for the person who'd attacked him.
I didn't give him a chance to fire a second shot. I surged forward and slashed down with the knife, cutting into his right wrist. The silverstone blade skittered off the thick bones there. Delov howled with pain again, and the gun slid from his hand. I kicked it away, then threw myself on top of him - knife-first. I sank the blade deep into Delov's chest, scraping against his ribs. The giant screamed and dug his left hand into my hair, yanking me back and off him. I kept hold of the knife, though, and as soon as the blade slid free of his chest, I twisted around and stabbed his arm with it. When he let go of my hair, I brought the knife back down into his chest again - and again and again, until his screams faded away and he finally quit fighting me.
When it was over and Delov was dead, I got to my feet and turned to face Fletcher, who was leaning against the desk for support. The old man looked down at Delov, then Peaches, who was sniffing his master's body.
"I was wondering why that dog suddenly decided to come in here," Fletcher said, lifting his green gaze to mine. "You led him and Delov straight to me, didn't you?"