Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) by Brad Magnarella (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

Its slowing wingbeats failed to keep it aloft, and it tumbled to the floor. Gorgantha backhanded another into a wall. But two made it out, one disappearing up a stairwell and another out an observation port. A moment later, two shotgun blasts shouted.

Attaboy, Bree-yark, I thought, picturing the plummeting birds.

The symbol on my hand, which had been glowing softly this whole time, pulsed suddenly. It had established a connection with Jordan.

“He’s upstairs!” I called to Gorgantha.

I just hoped the power of the bond would be enough to shake Jordan from his time catch-induced amnesia as it had done with Seay.

The mermaid tossed away a quarterstaff and stepped from the mass of druids writhing on the floor like slugs, too encumbered to push themselves upright. We were almost to the stairs leading up when I gasped from a hit of return energy. The barrier downstairs had failed. Hoofed feet pounded the length of the basement and climbed the next stairwell, accompanied by a storm of furious grunts.

I cast another barrier behind us. It shook as the first wereboar collided into it. I’d burned through enough stealth potion by now that he caught my spectral form fleeing up the stairs with Gorgantha.

“You’re dead meat!” he boomed.

Gorgantha and I reached the next level as fresh pounding sounded below. This floor looked like an operations center, with tables spread out and maps affixed to walls. It was empty, though, and the bond was still pulling me upward. Taking the final stairwell three steps at a time, I dashed through an anteroom and out onto the castle’s observation deck. I was familiar with this part of the castle—I’d brought a high school date here once—and quickly oriented myself to our surroundings. The lake Gorgantha and I had arrived by stood to the north while the thick treetops of the Ramble appeared south of us.

Pushing more power into the bond, I shouted, “Jordan!”

Gorgantha called his name too. “It’s your old friends,” she said, “the Upholders!”

A large raven burst from the trees, morphing into a human as he swooped down. He landed on the far side of the observation deck, cloak flapping, quarterstaff crackling with energy. The druid’s head was shaven to a brown sheen, but I recognized the glowing sigils at his temples and the intensity in his dark eyes.

“I have no old friends,” Jordan said.

41

Before I could appeal to whatever memories he’d retained, Jordan’s staff arced into motion. I threw up a shield, absorbing his blast, but the attack wasn’t pure force. On impact, a faint cloud of druidic magic burst out. Some of it filtered past my protection. The observation deck fragmented, and I fought for balance.

“You all right?” Gorgantha asked.

“Yeah.” I blinked. “Some sort of hallucinogenic attack.”

She swung toward him. “It’s us, dummy! Everson and Gorgantha!”

Jordan continued forward, another charge building on his staff. “All I see are invaders.”

Shaking my head clear, I pulled an encumbering potion from my pocket. Jordan was too distant to attempt to hose him like I’d done the others. Instead, I shouted, “Vigore!” and let the entire vial fly from my hand. But with my vision still out of whack, I missed wide and the vial shattered against a stone wall.

Jordan thrust his staff, this time at Gorgantha. Once more, my shield stood up to the assault, but he’d smuggled in another follow-up attack. A dusty magic billowed past the barrier and stuck to Gorgantha’s damp skin like chalk.

With a shouted Word, I sent a second encumbering potion at him. Jordan brought his staff around. Shatter, I thought urgently. Shatter and soak him. But instead of breaking the vial, the glancing contact sent it popping up like a foul ball. It smashed against a set of steps leading down to the park.

Dammit.

“I-I’m drying out,” Gorgantha stammered.

When I glanced over, her scaly skin looked dull and brittle, and cracks were appearing along the lines of her muscles. Jordan must have used a desiccating spell. I jerked my head toward the parapet at our backs. “Go!”

Gorgantha hesitated, but when fluid began seeping from her eyes, she broke toward the wall and hurtled it. A moment later, a splash sounded from the lake below.

Hope to hell she’s all right. From halfway across the observation deck, Jordan thrust his staff again. This time I met his blast with one of my own. The collision sent us each staggering backwards, dust exploding between us. From the Ramble, I could hear the snorting stampede of returning wereboars.

Yeah, just what I need.

I looked around for Caroline, who was supposed to be nearby.

“Don’t know who you are,” Jordan said. “But you’re about to get a painful lesson in why no one challenges the Raven Circle.”

“I’m not here to challenge your damn circle,” I barked. “Think back, Jordan. You were part of a team called the Upholders. We went to 1776 New York to recover your druid circle, your wife. We found them on a prison ship in the East River. Time got screwed up, and you ended up here—in another time catch, about five years short of the present. Your real home is in Harriman State Park.”

I was pushing power into our bond as I spoke. But though the symbol shone on his hand, it didn’t restore his memories as it had done Seay’s—or even give him pause. Jordan didn’t so much as glance down.

“We came to get you out of here,” I said.

“Oh, I believe that part.” Jordan thrust his staff again.

Already seeing his aim was off to the left, I darted right while drawing out another encumbering potion. But I realized too late he’d been positioning me. When I bumped up against the stone parapet, a mass of vines swarmed around my shielded body like a carnivorous plant on anabolic steroids.

“Respingere!” I shouted.

The pulse ripped through them, but the vines regenerated before I could break away. Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs leading from the park to the observation deck.

Aaand that will be the wereboars, I thought grimly.

But it was Bree-yark. The goblin