Discord's Apple
Page 78
Alex had a plan. He’d been trying to get her father out of the car. He really had been trying to help.
Arthur shielded his eyes and slid to a stop. Merlin had disappeared. The other man sprang at Alex, who fell back, slamming against the gravel drive, and rolled, slipping out of his attacker’s wrestling grasp. Arthur drew his sword and lunged forward as if to run again, but he didn’t move. He stood like a statue, balanced on the balls of his feet, frozen. Hera pointed at him. Her power was stronger than the ancient king’s will.
They needed Merlin now. If Evie shouted, maybe he’d hear and come running. Unless the others found a way to stop him, too.
Alex’s attacker recovered quickly, with enough speed to grab Alex from behind and wrap his arm around his neck. Alex thrashed, struggling to break free. Her father sat in the car, gripping the edge of the door, looking bewildered.
So much for the distraction—they’d missed their chance. Evie had her ransom payment. She could end this.
She knew this corner of the cemetery because she’d visited here every time she’d returned to Hopes Fort over the last five years. She knew the grave markers here without looking at them. Irving and Amelia Walker, her father’s great-grandparents. Frank’s grandparents, her grandparents. Then Emma Doyle Walker. She walked across the dead grass like she was walking to visit her mother’s grave, like she knew where she was going and what she was doing, like this was any other walk. She reached the road leading to where the car was parked before any of them noticed her.
Alex, fighting the grip his opponent held him in, saw her first. He stopped struggling, which made his captor pause to look, and in moments, their attention drew the others.
“Evie, go back!” Arthur said through clenched teeth. His body trembled, fighting against the invisible grip that held it.
Hera stepped forward to meet her. Evie stopped ten paces or so away, before she came too close. Hera followed her lead, maintaining enough distance between them that they had to raise their voices to hear each other.
“Did you bring it?” Hera said. She wore high-heeled boots on the gravel drive, and her balance never wavered. Did she use magic to achieve her beauty and poise, or was she just that elegant?
“Yes.” Evie felt scruffy in her coat and jeans. But she had something Hera wanted. She had to remember that.
“Excellent. I’ll gladly release your father. I’ll even set your knights-errant free, though you disobeyed my instruction to come alone. But I want to see it first.”
Evie took the apple from her pocket. She kept a tight grip on it, not knowing what tricks Hera might use, whether she could yank it through the air with her mind, like any number of comic book superheroes.
Hera’s gaze softened, an awe-filled smile easing her features. Evie caught sight of Alex in the corner of her eye. He looked like he was going to scream.
“Mr. Walker, step out of the car, please,” Hera said.
Her father pulled himself out of the car. He didn’t look happy.
“Now, girl, toss me the apple.”
“Let Alex and Arthur go first.”
Hera nodded at her minion, who let Alex loose. Alex made a jump; whom he could attack or what he could get away with, Evie had no idea. But a man—the young man from the motel parking lot—moved in front of him, his arms crossed. He’d appeared from nowhere. Like magic. Alex froze.
Hera had trapped them all very well.
Next, she made a twisting motion with her hand, and Arthur fell forward, snarling. He raised his sword.
“Arthur! Stay back, please!” Evie said.
Scowling, he lowered his sword.
“Now, please,” Hera said, her waiting hand outstretched.
The apple felt firm in Evie’s hand. She didn’t want to let it go. “What are you going to do with it?”
Hera’s smile changed, turning thin and sly. Evie had the feeling she was being made fun of.
“Why, take over the world, of course.”
Evie’s grip on the apple tightened. She didn’t understand how such a little thing could rule the world.
It isn’t the tool or thing, but the one who wields it.
Then something happened. Hera misinterpreted her hesitation.