He didn’t believe that his warding had failed; if it had, this spell would have killed him. But whatever conjuring Ramsey had aimed at him was more powerful by far than any other the captain had cast this day.
By the time Ethan could raise his head again, the flames above the bed had been extinguished and Ramsey’s barrier had regained much of its hue and substance.
“That was well done, Kaille. I hadn’t thought you could be so clever. But you won’t catch me off my guard again. Indeed, you’ve reminded me that I have as much blood at my disposal as I could possibly want. Thank you for that.”
A spell made the warehouse tremble and the weight crashed down on Ethan again, stealing his breath, making his heart labor. It was like having Afton and Gordon both stand on his chest. Even with his warding intact he feared that the sheer might of the conjuring would kill him.
“How long can you endure this, Ethan?” Ramsey asked, seeming to sense his desperation. “I have all day.”
Chapter Twenty-four
Ethan had little time left, and no idea how to regain the upper hand in his battle with Ramsey. He cut his arm, but rather than aim a conjuring at the captain or his men, Ethan cast an illusion spell, sending an image of himself out of the building and up the road to where Mariz stood with Sephira.
“I need help,” Ethan made the figure say. “An attack, Mariz. Or a distraction. Anything. I don’t know if the warehouse is warded; I expect it is. But if it’s not, light it on fire. I’ll get out somehow. If it is warded, then an illusion of some sort. Ramsey is terrified of fire. Try-”
Within the warehouse, another spell hit him, tearing a gasp from his beleaguered lungs. He opened his eyes to the dim light of the building and the glow of Ramsey’s power.
“I felt that,” the captain said. “An illusion spell. You were speaking with Sephira’s conjurer, or perhaps Miss Windcatcher. They can’t help you. Not from that distance.”
The building shook. Ramsey glanced up at the ceiling and then laughed.
“A fire spell. You told them to burn us out. You’re a desperate fool, Kaille. Of course I warded the building.”
Ethan rolled off his back and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Glancing at Ramsey’s crew, who remained behind the wall he had conjured, he saw that all but one or two of them had blood on their arms.
And then, with a pounding of magick, the blood was gone. All of it. Ethan was mashed to the floor; it felt like the warehouse roof had fallen in on top of him. He could not keep his arm from being trapped beneath him. The bone snapped and he howled with pain.
So much blood. If Ethan could have drawn upon it he might have been able to defeat the captain’s warding. But as it was …
He had been in such straits before. The memory of one such circumstance came to him now. He had cast the killing spell that took the life of a dog, Pitch, Shelly’s mate. It had been an act of last resort, and to this day he had not forgiven himself. He had vowed that he would never cast such a spell again. And if his choice was between dying and taking the life of one of Ramsey’s sailors, he would choose to die.
But there was someone else. The man lying on that low pallet beside Ramsey’s bed was going to die. Ramsey would kill him with his spells; Ethan himself had robbed the man of blood. He doubted that the poor soul could survive much longer. Wouldn’t it be a mercy if he could take the man’s life with a single conjuring?
He started to recite the conjuring under his breath-another blade conjuring. Sourced in the life of another it might be strong enough to carve through Ramsey’s warding and kill the captain. But after a few words, Ethan stopped himself. He had made this choice once, and had justified it to himself with the belief that he hadn’t acted to save his own life, but rather to save the life of Holin, the son of Marielle Taylor, his former betrothed. If he cast such a spell now and managed to survive his battle with Ramsey, how would he excuse it this time?
Better to die than to live with the knowledge that he had traded his own life for that of an innocent.
But perhaps there was one other way.
Of course I warded the building, Ramsey had said. But both of them knew that he had only warded it against attacks from outside. Ethan had already proven that the walls within could be burned. Clearly the captain assumed that Ethan had tried to burn them in order to distract him from the maintenance of his shield and from his attacks. Perhaps Ethan had made the same assumption. Not anymore.
He cut himself. “Ignis ex cruore evocatus.”
And before the flames he threw had reached the near wall, next to Ramsey, he cast a second spell.
“Tegimen et impedimentum ex verbasco et marrubio et betonica evocata.” Warding and barrier, conjured from mullein, horehound, and betony.
The rumble of another spell followed on the heels of this one, but it had no effect. The blaze began to spread along the warehouse wall, and the shimmering russet shield Ethan had conjured over it rendered Ramsey’s extinguishing spell impotent. He cast the spell again, using more of Janna’s herbs. He would fortify the conjuring every time Ramsey attacked, so as to make certain that it held. He knew that his supply of leaves wouldn’t last forever, but he thought that he could maintain the conjuring with blood if he had to. And he wasn’t sure Ramsey could tolerate flames in such proximity for very long.
Ramsey tried to douse the fire again, and again he failed.
Ethan cast his spell once more.
“Enough of this, Kaille.” The captain sounded panicked. “You won’t kill yourself to kill me.”
“Actually, I will.”
Ramsey seemed to know better than to argue. “What about my men? You won’t let them die. I’m sure of it.”
“I can’t say what I’ll do. I haven’t decided yet. But what about you, Ramsey? Would you let them die to save your own life? I believe you would. Your men have faith in you. They think that you’ll protect them. Look at them now, and tell them that you would rather die than see them perish.”
The captain looked to his men, wet his scarred lips. “I would,” he said. “I would die for them.”
“Discuti ex cruore evocatum,” Ethan said. Shatter, conjured from blood.
The wall of the building just to the side of Ethan’s barrier shattered like glass.
“Reloca impedimentum ex verbasco et marrubio et betonica evocatum.”
Ethan’s conjured shield shifted a few feet, enough to give the men access to the hole he had made in the warehouse wall.
“Tell them to leave. Without delay, Ramsey. The fire is spreading.”
Ramsey stared up at the flames and tried to slide himself to the far side of his bed. He said nothing.
“I thought as much,” Ethan said.
Smoke began to billow into the rafters of the building and the fire continued to grow, creeping along the wall toward Ramsey like a bright spider.
“Make it stop!” Ramsey said.
“No. If burning this building to the ground and dying by my own conjuring is the only way I can rid the world of you, then so be it.”
Ethan cast his barrier spell again so that the warding widened to cover the spreading flames. But he also started to recite in silence a second spell, in anticipation of what he thought Ramsey would do next.
He knew the man well.
“Cut yourselves, damn it!” the captain called to his men.
The sailors had been eyeing the flames, but now they cut themselves once more, drawing more blood.
Prepared as he was, Ethan might still have failed to finish his conjuring before Ramsey cast whatever spell he had in mind. But at that moment, another spell whispered in the wood. It was weaker than those Ramsey and Ethan had cast over the past several minutes. But that hardly mattered.
It was an illusion spelclass="underline" Bright yellow flames erupted from the floor in the middle of the warehouse, near to where Ethan stood. He was certain Ramsey knew that this fire wasn’t real. But with flames burning so close to where he lay, and with his face and body covered with scars from the Drake’s Wharf fire, the captain couldn’t help but be distracted, albeit for only an instant.