“Shut up.” I sensed the worms and grubs and ants and moles in the earth. They were all frightened, though only those closest to the surface knew what was happening.
I concentrated on the ants. They were used to working together. At my guidance, they gathered in the dirt beneath the porch and began to dig. Each group dug new tunnels into a different symbol.
Ants didn’t feel fear the way people did, but they instinctively wanted to escape the heat of the flames. I pushed them to continue. Those that got too close to the fire curled up and died, but slowly an underground circle formed in the earth. It was only two feet in diameter, but that should be enough for a noncorporeal banishment at this range.
I released the ants. They scurried away. I opened my eyes to read the incantation, but the words were a blur. “Where are my glasses?”
Ronnie set them on my face. “You lost them when you fell.”
A thumbprint smeared the right lens, but it was clear enough for me to see and recite the spell to activate the banishment.
The circle opened like a bathtub drain for the unnatural. The heart of the fire brightened, fighting the pull. Firefighters shouted and directed their hoses at what they thought was a flare-up.
Ronnie’s hand clasped my shoulder, offering encouragement and support. “You’ve got this, man.”
If the banishing circle was the drain, my determination and strength of will were the plunger. My old teachers would have smacked me for the impertinence of the metaphor, but it was accurate enough. All the house’s strength was needed to resist the fire, so the spell drew power from me, a slow leak deflating my flesh and spirit as I forced the living heart of the flames from our world.
Inch by inch, I drove the blackness from the flames, until nothing was left but normal fire that soon faltered against the firefighters’ assault.
My home’s pain eased.
Ronnie squeezed my shoulder. “Good job.”
“Thanks,” I said, and passed the hell out.
“Principal Richards, I apologize for calling so late. I thought it would go to voice mail. I wanted to tell you I won’t be in tomorrow. Hopefully, you can still find a substitute for my class. I can’t—yes, I know how inconvenient it is, but it’s a family emergency. There was a fire, and—no, they’re still alive. For now. But it was pretty bad. I don’t think they have much time left...”
CHAPTER18
Jenny
When we reached the shop, I parked the van, jumped down, and hurried toward the closest firefighter, leaving Temple and Ronnie to deal with the fire. “That’s our home. There’s nobody inside.”
He relayed the message to the rest of his team. Even through the bulk of their gear, I could see the tension in their bodies decrease slightly, maybe from a nine to an eight point five.
I might not share Temple’s connection to the house, but the sight of the flames made me sick to my stomach. I’d felt at home here from the day I moved in—comfortable andsafein a way I’d never experienced before. And Alex wanted to destroy that sanctuary.
What had happened to bring him to this? A deeper question plagued me:how had I missed it?
Self-recrimination could come later. “Annette, stay with the firefighters in case they have questions. Try to keep them back until Temple can do his thing.”
I didn’t wait for her to answer. My attention was on the young boy standing apart from the crowd, staring at the shop.
I was halfway to him when Mindy from down the street cut me off.
“Jenny! Thank God you’re all okay.” She pulled me into a hug. “I was so worried you might still be in there.”
“We’re all fine, thank you.” I tried to extract myself.
“I called 911 as soon as we saw,” she continued. “I told my husband to get the fire extinguisher from our kitchen. He ran over and used it until it ran out, but it didn’t do anything. I’m going to send a letter of complaint to the manufacturer. I wanted to try a garden hose next, but nobody had one long enough to—”
“It’s all right.” Fortunately, Mindy was short enough for me to peer over her shoulder and keep an eye on the boy. He hadn’t moved. I considered physically lifting Mindy and setting her aside.
“When you call your insurance, don’t let them weasel out of paying you. My sister Clara down in Florida got flooded two years ago, and her insurance said they wouldn’t cover it. Which company do you use? I forget the name of ours. It’s the one with that funny little lizard on all the commercials. We had to file a claim last fall when a tree branch fell on our gutter, and—”
“Annette handles our insurance, and I’m sure she’d appreciate any advice you can share.” I was even more sure that Annette would get back at me for dumping Mindy on her, but I could face that punishment later.
I dodged several more well-meaning neighbors and hurried toward the boy, stopping about five feet away. His smell matched the scent Annette had brought back from Sage’s house, and he looked similar enough to the photo she’d shown us, though he was dirtier and more disheveled. “Sage Parker?”
