The Power (The Magnificent 12 4)

There was no way they could possibly realize that at that very moment Mack was being pinned down by Brembles.

And no way to know that Mack would panic and waste his enlightened puissance on disappearing some creepy beetles.

And no way to know that Valin was—at that very moment—guiding deadly red ants into a jar that he would forthwith dump on Mack’s face.

Fourteen

Which brings us back to:

“Let me go!” Mack cried. He pulled at the chulks, but no, he wasn’t pulling his way out of this one. The Brembles had him. Valin had him.

And the ants had him.

A second ant stung.

A third.

And now the stinging signal went out through all the ants.

Mack was about to die a most terrible death.

Really.

A fourth and fifth sting made Mack yell and thrash wildly. But now there was no more counting; the stings came fast and furious, a wave of them, pain upon pain, and already Mack felt himself swelling up, felt his airway constrict, felt his heart hammering way too fast, felt . . .

. . . felt death itself approaching, extending its bony claw to snuff the life from him.

“Hug! Ligean dó dul!”

Which obviously is Irish for, “Hey, let him go!”

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nbsp; Mack could barely see—that one ant was still right on his eyeball, and he was dying, after all—but across the field came Sean Patrick MacAvoy. He was armed with a sword and went charging straight at Valin.

Paddy “Nine Iron” Trout raised his cane-sword, preparing to stab Sean Patrick through the heart. Of course this was happening slowly, so unless Sean Patrick stopped to take a short nap, he wasn’t in too much danger from the Nafia assassin.

But the Brembles were a different story entirely. All four of the massive, terrifying, evil (soon to be extinct) creatures drew themselves up, ready for a fight. This meant pulling their chulks from the ground, which in turn freed Mack, who was gasping for breath, swelling up, thinking seriously about vomiting, and starting to wonder why the whole world was spinning around and around and around.

The Brembles made an interesting sound. It went like this: KIIIIIILLLLLL!

The funny thing is that Brembles don’t know any actual words, so it’s totally coincidental that their wordless, incoherent, oddly high-pitched shriek sounds like a drawn-out version of the word kill.

Then again, even though they don’t know the word kill, that’s obviously what they mean when they shriek that way and begin bounding like nightmare hyenas brandishing their chulks and the surrounding tangle of thorns and baring their six rows of teeth.37

Sean Patrick stopped running then because . . . well, because he was about to be killed, that’s why. His face was pale as a ghost. Mack was pretty bleary but he thought he might be seeing knees actually knocking together.

“Noooooooo!” Valin cried. “Brembles! To me!”

The Brembles didn’t seem to hear; they were about three big bounces away from hitting Sean Patrick like a freight train full of pain.

“Subze-ma Brembles!”

Valin had used Vargran meaning “Freeze, Brembles!” And sure enough, the Brembles stopped cold. Like statues. Frozen in midslaver.

“You can’t kill him! He may still be my great-great-great-great-great-great—”

Mack detected a note of impatience from the Brembles despite the fact that they were frozen.