The Serpent in the Stone - By Nicki Greenwood Page 0,96

Ian’s direction. For a second, Sara caught the pale flash of Ian’s T-shirt, then lost them both in the shadows. She pushed onto her hands and knees, wincing at the pain in her arm. The amulet swung close to the bleeding gash. With a gasp, she snatched it away.

“Sara!” Faith cried again.

She looked up in time to see three fiery peat bricks falling toward her sister. She flung out a hand, sending them away toward their adversaries an instant before they burst against the ground.

She wrestled upright. An arm snaked around her throat. Choking, she dragged at the ground, but her captor—Luis—hauled her backward.

“Now! Do it!” Flintrop screamed. She looked up, gasping for air around the viselike grip on her throat, and saw Flintrop, Michael, and Thomas stagger into three of the compass positions.

And her, the fourth. No!

Luis jerked the amulet from her throat. With his arms around her, he gripped her injured arm and slashed the knife across her palm. She screamed. Faith shouted something, and then Luis slapped the amulet against her bleeding hand.

The very air tore open. Every hair on her body stood on end. The amulet blazed against her palm. Mindless with pain, she battered herself against Luis’s body. The earth roared open under her feet. Luis released her, and they plunged into the fissure.

The amulet fell from her nerveless fingers. She pounced at the torn edge of the crevasse. Peat and gravel spilled around her head as she clutched at the precipice. The sky overhead boiled with gathering storm clouds and echoed with thunder. Beside her, Luis clawed his way upward and scrambled out of the gap to disappear into the maelstrom.

“Sara!” Faith rushed toward her and threw herself down at the edge of the fissure.

“The amulet! I dropped it!” Sara clutched at her sister’s hand. She squinted into the darkness of the rift, searching in desperation, but could find nothing among the shadows.

“Give me your other hand! Please!”

Sara looked back up. In a flash of lightning, she caught Flintrop’s silhouette behind Faith, tall and confident and with a terrifying snarl on his face. His fingertips snapped with lightning of their own. Panicking, Sara lunged over her sister’s shoulder and cast a bolt of telekinesis that sent him sprawling backward.

Faith seized her other hand and leapt upward, jerking Sara out of the fissure. The ground rumbled under their feet. A line of light exploded open along the crevasse, running the entire length of the island.

Dazed with exhaustion and blood loss, Sara heard thudding footsteps and turned in time to see Michael flying at her. He raised a hand to attack.

From the side came another gunshot. She and Faith ducked in unison. Michael grunted, spun backward, and crumpled to the ground.

Ian came running into the glow cast by the ley line and skidded to a halt with his rifle, panting. A darkening bloodstain spread across the torn shoulder of his shirt. “The sword, where’s the—”

A shining arc of metal swung at his head. Sara snatched his collar, wincing at the electric burn of touching him, and yanked him down as the sword swept over their heads.

Luis swung again. Sara threw another blast of telekinesis that knocked him back just out of range. Tapped, I’m getting tapped. She turned to look for Faith, and then something crashed against her head. Everything went black.

****

Ian lunged to stop Flintrop as the man dropped his stone and reached for Sara’s body. Hardly pausing to think, Ian gripped his rifle in both hands and smashed it in Flintrop’s face. Flintrop lurched back, swearing, his nose pouring blood.

Faith cringed beside him, and even Ian could feel the echo of the ley line’s power running through his body. Gritting her teeth, Faith threw a burst of flame at Flintrop to keep him at bay. “Get the sword. I have to do the incantation.” She whirled and dove into the fissure.

The ley line roared with voices. Pain scorched through him. Ian dropped his rifle and doubled over in agony. Several feet away, Flintrop seemed to be having the same trouble. At least that took him out for now.

But not Luis.

The man charged at Ian and swung the sword again. Gasping for air, Ian just managed to duck the blow and threw himself at Luis’s midsection. They tumbled backward together. Luis struck his head on the edge of a mangled stone wall, and went slack.

Ian grabbed the sword from Luis’s hand and raced toward the fissure.

Flintrop, recovered now, leaped to stop him. Too close to