Brave the Tempest (Cassandra Palmer #9) - Karen Chance Page 0,168

hoping he wouldn’t follow me. For a wonder, he didn’t. After another moment, I let out a sigh and allowed my head to fall back against the wood.

That had been cowardly, I knew it, but right then, I didn’t care. I didn’t care about much of anything except sleep, and that chocolate I wasn’t going to get. If it had been just me, I’d have gone to bed and not worried about four-foot-nothing, broom-handle-wielding sweatshop workers with crazy eyes.

But it wasn’t just me.

Rico, I thought. He was laid-back enough not to make a fuss, but diligent enough to watch the situation and make sure this little guy was as harmless as Augustine claimed. But where was he?

Where were any of them?

I had a sudden vision of my whole bodyguard corps just up and leaving, gleefully running off into the night like they’d finally been paroled from hell. Because I’d given them that choice, hadn’t I? Why had I done that? Was I stupid?

The evidence was kind of pointing to stupid.

I rubbed my throbbing temple.

Of course, Jonas would be happy to supply me with any number of war mages, as soon as I picked up a phone. And wouldn’t that be fun? I had a sudden vision of the stern, competent, but judgmental faces of most of the war mages I’d met.

And then I saw Roy from a couple days ago, freckles over his nose, red hair shining in the sunlight. He’d been laughing about this smoker he was going to get with all the swear jar money—which was apparently approaching epic levels—and telling Fred how he was going to smoke us a whole pig. They’d been positively gleeful about it, debating the virtues of mustard- versus tomato-based sauces for what had to be an hour.

Fred.

My heart hurt.

And then my head came up at some weird noises echoing down one of the halls.

There were three that met nearby, in the lounge with the half-moon couches. I wandered back out there, because I couldn’t tell where the sounds were coming from. It wasn’t the hall to the bedrooms, which I’d have understood, or to the library and classroom wing, where somebody might have been getting a late-night read. It was the one leading to the offices that we had no one to fill at the moment, and to the formal audience chamber, which was weird, because nobody ever went down there—including me.

Except for tonight.

Because tonight, the big, echoing room had been repurposed—as a training salle.

Or maybe not training, I thought, as a blast of spell fire hit the wall beside me as soon as I walked through the door. It was hot enough to sear the air, but didn’t leave so much as a mark on the plaster, being absorbed by something I couldn’t see, but which was probably a ward. That was good, because a dozen more bolts were right behind it.

I instinctively ducked, trying to get an assessment of the situation, but they weren’t all hitting the same place. They were ricocheting everywhere, because Saffy had some sort of shield in front of her—also invisible, but she was holding her arm up like there was something there. And I guess there was, because the bursts of power were hitting a couple of feet in front of her and leaving red or orange glows hovering in the air until the shield absorbed them.

The remaining energy bounced off in different directions, except for what was causing her to slowly back up. Or, to be more accurate, what was pushing her back, sliding her feet across the highly polished floor despite her best efforts to hold position. And then one great big burst decided to top that, slamming into her with the strength of a giant’s sledgehammer.

Saffy flipped in midair, but instead of hitting down face-first, as I probably would have, she somehow came down on one knee. For about half a second. Before jumping back to her feet and pulling out her own wand.

“All right, that’s it!”

“Defend yourself!” That was Rhea, her long dark hair down around her face, which was twisted in anger.

“The next thing I throw won’t be defense!” Saffy snapped, and Rhea’s eyes flashed like the lightning sprawling across the sky outside.

“Go ahead!”

“You think I won’t?”

“I said go ahead!” And outside, thunder boomed, although from where I couldn’t tell.

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“What is going on?” I asked, standing up. Both girls started, as if I’d been somehow invisible up until then.

Of course, maybe I had—or as