“He’ll more than likely wait until the moon has fully risen before he makes any attempt on the wellspring, and that gives us time.”
I frowned. “But why would he even go to the bother of taking Ashworth? Killing him would have been far easier, given his spells around the wellspring would fall the minute he died.”
“I can’t explain his actions, but I’m eternally grateful for them. Ira still has a chance and, right now, that’s all I care about.”
“I’m surprised he gave the three of you the opportunity to even counter his attack,” Aiden commented. “From everything I’ve been led to believe about heretics, that’s unusual.”
Eli snorted. “He didn’t give us anything. We put a number of physical and magical warnings in place after the hitman was sent after Ira. The heretic disarmed all the magical warnings easily enough, but he missed the physical. That saved us.”
“Even if he is intending—for whatever reason—to force Ashworth to dismantle his magic,” I said, “it won’t gain him access to the wellspring. Not entirely.”
Eli frowned. “Why not?”
“Because the final line of defense is mine,” I said. “Mine and the wild magic’s.”
His eyes widened. “Ira didn’t mention that. And maybe that’s why he’s taken him. Maybe our heretic sensed the wild magic’s presence within the overall protection spell and thinks Ira is responsible.”
“But Ashworth’s magic has a different feel to mine—surely a heretic witch with decades of experience behind him would be able to tell the difference.”
“Not when there’s wild magic involved. It has a tendency to alter a spell’s form, which is why spelling is so dangerous around the stuff.” He paused. “Even if he does become aware of the second spell layer, it’s very possible he’ll think you’ve beaten him to the wellspring.”
“I don’t see how that actually helps us,” Aiden commented.
Eli’s gaze switched to him, his growing excitement evident. “It provides a distraction. If Lizzie goes in there buzzing with wild magic, he’ll be concentrating on her rather than what else might be going on. If you can get within shooting range without him spotting you—”
“He’s not likely to have gone into the wellspring’s clearing without setting up his own perimeter defense,” I said.
“But that’s where I come in,” Eli said. “I’ll dismantle enough of his spell to get you through.”
“Are you sure you can do that?” I couldn’t keep the doubt and fear from my voice. “After what you did here—”
“It’s far easier to create a wormhole past a shield than it is to bring them down. Remember when I said this wasn’t my first encounter with a heretic?” When I nodded, he added, “Well, that time, a wormhole and a gun was what stopped the bastard rather than the magic of the HIC witch.”
“And what happens if, for some damn reason, Aiden can’t shoot him?”
“Then I’ll be there to fry his goddamn mind,” Belle said. You’re not doing this alone. No way on God’s green earth.
“Liz, it’s up to you,” Aiden said. “You’re the one that’s going to be in the biggest danger.”
I glanced at him. Knew that he’d back me, no matter the decision. “We have to try.”
“But before we do,” Belle commented from behind Aiden. “We go back to the café. You’ll both need a revival and strengthening potion if you’re to have any hope of this succeeding.”
“That,” Eli said, “sounds like a good idea.”
“You obviously haven’t tasted her potions,” Aiden muttered, and got clipped on the arm for his trouble.
He led both Eli and me from the ambulance, then—after handing control of the area over to Tara—we walked back to his truck and drove over to the café.
An hour, two potions each, and a few phone calls later, we were driving toward the O’Connor reservation. We didn’t take the main entrance—which I’d never actually seen, and likely never would—but rather a side road that was barely wider than a goat track. The truck chugged up a steep incline and, once we reached the top, Aiden pulled off the road then turned off the engine and the headlights.
As darkness closed in, a figure emerged from the nearby trees. He was tall, with gray hair, blue eyes, and features that were an older version of Aiden’s. His father, I suspected.
“Stay here.” Aiden climbed out of the car and clasped the older man’s hand. As the two spoke softly, my phone rang, sharp in the hush surrounding us. I dug it out of my bag, looked at the screen, and swore softly.
“What?” Eli said quickly.
“It’s Ashworth’s number.”