The Key (The Magnificent 12 3)

Mack had a terrible vision of what would happen next. The Gudridan would slam Dietmar against the concrete, and that would be the end.

Down in the Métro they had each used the Key to learn one Vargran spell. They had twisted the smaller wheel inside the larger wheel. They had stared rather stupidly at various inexplicable symbols. And then they had heard the Vargran words in their heads, as only those with the enlightened puissance could. And they had memorized some of what they heard. Not saying they memorized it all perfectly, but they had the gist.

But they had learned that magic can’t just be fired off willy-nilly like using a machine gun. Because the true power was in the enlightened puissance that each of them possessed. And that was like a battery that needed recharging.

So they had vowed to resist using Vargran until there was no other choice, until absolutely necessary.

This looked pretty necessary.

But it was Xiao who rushed forward and cried, “Pu kip-ma isnyke!” Which meant roughly, “Hey, you: put him down or else.”

The Gudridan did a double take, stared down at Xiao, blinked, and dropped Dietmar. The fall was from twenty-five feet, which is about like falling off the peak of a suburban two-story home’s roof.

It could easily have killed Dietmar. Except that the Gudridan was arched back and waving the boy high over its head, so when it released Dietmar, Dietmar fell into the river.

“Ahhhh …”

Splash!

No time to check on him, no time to worry whether the boy could swim, because the Gudridan lashed out at Xiao with a surprisingly swift and amazingly powerful kick.

Xiao dodged, quick as a snake, and the massive foot flew past.

Now the second giant was crossing the bridge. In the flash of headlights Mack saw that its fur was no longer white but shading into pink and possibly heading toward red.

Mack didn’t know this, but a Gudridan’s fur changes color with its mood. The madder it is, the redder it gets. And no one has ever—ever—met a red Gudridan and lived to offer descriptions.

Xiao was up on her feet but wobbly, and Jarrah grabbed her hand and yanked her away, heading in a mad rush toward the far side of the river. Dietmar’s cries floated up from below.

The Gudridan leaped.

It was impossible to imagine. It leaped as easily as a gymnast, that gigantic thing, and landed so hard the bridge rocked. It landed clear beyond Xiao and Jarrah, blocking their path.

The second Gudridan kicked aside a Fiat 500 like it was a football. The car rolled twice and hit the stone railing and came to a stop on its side. Traffic in both directions screeched and slammed. That second Gudridan now focused on Mack. It raised its giant feet and stomped. Stomped. Stomped again, each massive hammer blow causing the bridge to shake. It was trying to crush Mack; too angry to waste time grabbing him, it wanted to stomp Mack into strawberry jam.

Mack dodged and tripped over his own feet, which sent him plowing forward. A foot slammed beside him and struck a glancing blow against his shoulder. It was like being hit by a truck. Mack went flying into the road. Had traffic not already stopped, he’d have been run over, killed instantly.

Dazed and numb on his left side, Mack rolled to his feet, stumbled, and smashed face-first into a car’s hood.

He made eye contact with the driver, a middle-aged man with an astonished and offended look on his face, just as the Gudridan made a grab for Mack.

Mack jerked back, and the claw bit into the car’s sheet metal like it was Play-Doh.

Okay, time for some Vargran, Mack told himself, but his brain wasn’t working too clearly now. He heard a scream. He saw Stefan, suddenly revealed in a beam of light, armed with nothing but his fists and swinging like a madman at a Gudridan’s knee.

Get them all together, all but Dietmar, Mack’s brain told him, and unite them in a Vargran curse. But oh, it is so much easier to think that than to do it while one of your crew is yelling and gurgling in the dark waters of the Seine, and your bodyguard has just been casually kicked aside to land like

a rag doll, and a reckless Aussie has thrown her arms in a bear hug around a monster’s leg, and a tiny goth girl is wiping the blood from her mouth, and a dragon in human form is crawling away across the concrete.

Things had gone very bad, very fast.

Stefan was up and racing to the Fiat, which still lay on its side. With brute force he yanked the car back onto its wheels and pulled open the twisted door while the car was still rocking.

Mack saw what he was up to. He also saw the first Gudridan take one giant step, reach down, and knock Stefan flat.

No time to think, Mack raced for the car, jumped over Stefan’s horizontal form, and slid into the seat. The engine was still running! He twisted the wheel and stomped on the gas. Nothing!

Stupid gears!