Scholar of Magic (Art of the Adept #3) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,112

he got home. The front door had been torn from its hinges and now lay on its side beside the gaping doorway. The claw marks made it obvious what had happened, and Will’s blood began to boil anew. They came to take their vengeance, he realized, and then he felt a sudden surge of panic. Blake!

For a moment he remained still, unsure what to do. He still held Tailtiu in his arms and he didn’t want to face yet another battle while carrying a dead body, but he also didn’t want to leave her outside, exposed to anyone who happened by. If the vampires found her, they might well steal the body simply to drain the last of her vital fluids.

A voice saved him from the decision. “William? Is that you?” It was Blake, and as Will focused on the darkened doorway, he saw the manservant lean out from the parlor room, a crossbow in his hands.

“Yes! Are you all right?”

“Mostly,” said the older man. “It’s safe to come in. They were gone before I got back.”

Will carried Tailtiu in and laid her on the divan in the parlor. Then he glanced at Blake. The man was sitting on the floor, a pained expression on his face. “What happened to you?” he asked.

“I tried to go with them,” said Blake, seeming embarrassed. “But my body betrayed me this time. I kept up until we were halfway there, then I fell.”

Will knelt and began examining the man’s leg.

“I think it’s just a sprain or something,” said Blake. “But I couldn’t walk on it, though the gods know I tried. I finally had to improvise a crutch and hobble back here. Took me a little over an hour and by the time I got back… well, you saw the front door.”

The bones seemed sound, but Will could see that there was considerable swelling around Blake’s ankle, though it was masked by the boot he still wore. “I think it’s your ankle,” he informed Blake. “But you should have taken off the boot. Now I’m afraid you’re going to lose it.”

“The foot?” asked Blake sharply, his face lighting up in alarm.

Will smirked faintly, feeling sad and relieved at the same time. “The boot. I’ll have to cut it off.” If only Janice’s wound had been so simple. He did as he had said, using a sharp knife to carefully slice the boot away, exposing the swollen ankle inside. Blake hissed in pain several times during the process, then louder when Will began rotating his foot and probing the swelling. “I really can’t be sure, but I don’t think you broke anything. A few days of rest and elevation should see you back on your feet.”

“Damned rotten timing,” swore the manservant.

“You can’t stay here, either,” Will informed him. “They may return, and I won’t be here to protect you.”

“Where are the others?” asked Blake.

Will grimaced, then looked away. It was difficult to say, but he managed to communicate the injuries they had endured using the bare minimum of words. “It was my fault, Blake,” he said at last. “I’m grateful you twisted your ankle, or you’d be in the same shape, or dead. I still don’t know what happened to Rob.”

“Worrying about blame right now is a fool’s game,” said Blake. “The only one to blame when your friends are hurt is the enemy that did it. Blaming yourself does your enemy’s work for him.” He paused for a second. “You said you weren’t going to be here. Where are you going?”

“Tiny and Janice need a miracle,” said Will. “So I’m going to go find one for them. I also need to return my friend to her family.”

Blake had never actually met Tailtiu as herself. She had always been disguised as Selene. “Is she…?”

Will nodded. “She’s been helping me with things. Now I have to explain her death to her mother.”

“Are you sure she’s dead?” asked Blake, an odd sound in his throat. “I could swear she’s looking at us.”

Will whipped around, and sure enough he could see a faint glimmer in the dim light. One of Tailtiu’s eyes was open