Demon's Dance (Lizzie Grace 4)

“You could end up being crisped.”

He shrugged. “So could you.”

“I have no choice. You do.”

“How about you just shut up and concentrate on that fireball? Because I’m thinking it’s getting a little too close for comfort.”

My gaze jumped up again. Even though it was still a good distance from the ground, I could now see the twisting, churning mass of flames. The soucouyant had thrown all her anger, all her frustration, and all her energy into its creation.

The wild magic stirred in anticipation. It was almost time to unleash it... and then hope like hell I’d guessed right and that it would be able to contain the fireball. Otherwise, we were all in trouble.

My heart was now pounding somewhere in the vicinity of my throat, and sweat dotted my skin. I could hear voices and footsteps coming from the houses on either side, but I didn’t dare look around. Every sense I had was now attuned to both the fireball above and the power that curled with ever-increasing velocity around my fingertips.

I briefly clenched my fingers around it. Felt the power of it roll through me. Imagined it forming a net around the fireball, containing it, nullifying it. Felt the pulsing response.

The connection between me and the magic of this place was strengthening, and that was absolutely terrifying.

But it was also something I could worry about later.

Then something within whispered now....

I raised my hand and unleashed the wild magic. It flashed skyward, a silvery streak that raced toward the twisting mass of red and gold. As the two drew closer, the net began to unravel. Silvery threads flicked out from the main mass, briefly resembling long fingers. As they spread out even further, the fireball’s intensity increased; flames erupted from its surface and flashed toward the net of wild magic. The two clashed, and the silver disappeared into the red.

I briefly closed my eyes.

It hadn’t worked.

Goddammit....

But even as the fear hit, the wild magic surged anew. Silver filaments crawled out of the middle of the fireball and quickly wrapped themselves around it. The flames twisted and flared, but the threads were stronger, twining around and around the fire. The heat rolling off the fireball began to ease, but it was close to the treetops now. The sharp scent of eucalyptus stung the air and the leaves were starting to curl and brown—a sure sign the tree was close to ignition point.

Monty raised a hand and began spelling, the soft words lost to the gathering roar of the approaching fireball. I doubted there was a spell strong enough to protect us against the sheer heat of it, but I wasn’t about to do anything to stop him. If the wild magic failed, then a small chance was better than nothing.

The silver threads of wild magic now covered most of the fireball, but flames still shot out from various bits of the outer rim. The old gum tree was now smoldering.

It wasn’t working, and we were too damn close now to run....

Energy surged again, and the fireball abruptly halted. For several seconds, it hovered just above the tree, a twisting, churning mass of red and silver.

Then, with a huge whoomp, it exploded.

Monty swore, cast his spell into the air, and then pushed me sideways and down, onto the ground. The tree

exploded into flame and spots of silver and red scattered like ashes all around the lawn. Some caught, some didn’t, but the heat and smoke from the burning tree swirled around us, briefly cutting sight down to several feet and giving little indication of what else might be on fire.

For several minutes I didn’t dare move. I just hunkered down on the ground, listening to the roar of flame and waiting for the heated hammer to fall.

It didn’t.

“Fuck, that was close.” Monty pushed up onto his knees and looked around. “But it looks as if your net of wild magic worked. For the most part, anyway.”

I sat back on my heels, wincing a little as pain slithered down my cut thigh. Not only was the old gum tree ablaze, but there were also minor spot fires all over the lawn, and both the wooden window frames and the door of the soucouyant’s house showed signs of blast marks. But it could have been a whole lot worse. The net of wild magic had somehow succeeded in both containing and erasing most of the fireball.

“What was that spell you cast before the explosion?” I asked. “Because you seriously need to teach it to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but why would you think you’d need it?”

“Do you really think that’ll be it for retaliation?” I said. “From the little I saw of soucouyant, she’s not going to take kindly to either of us getting the better of her.”