“The shield?”
He nodded. “Do you see the flashes all around the room? It materializes every time it has to fling something heavy. Watch.”
I scanned the room, just like Andre said, and I saw it. There was a small flicker of yellow sparks in the corner of the room as the thing picked up the potted plant on Finn’s windowsill. My heart started pounding like a drum, and I ripped myself away from Andre, running and jumping forward at the same time. I managed to wedge myself over Finn and Ourie before the terracotta could smash into his headboard. Covering him and my face, I could feel the shards raining down against my back seconds later, scoring painful lines into my skin.
Better my back than Finn’s face, I thought fiercely, even as the wounds began to throb.
I felt something sticky near one shoulder blade and tried to feel around for a broken pottery shard that was probably embedded in me. Agony rippled out from the point of contact as soon as I touched it, but I was relieved when I found only blood.
“Mom, are you okay?” Finn said as he shoved at my shoulder, half-rolling me away before my weight could settle firmly onto him. I went with the motion, even though twisting sent a fresh wave of pain swirling through me. My gut swayed in time, sending my supper shimmying back up my throat. I swallowed thickly, trying not to throw up.
It was then that I saw Andre, and he appeared to be battling something I couldn’t see. He was being thrown this way and that, and by the looks of it, he was losing.
“Mom, you’re bleeding!”
Finn’s voice sounded distant and warbling, like it was coming through an old TV speaker. That should have been alarming, but I couldn’t bring myself to do much more than sit up and breathe. The pot must have hit me with more force than I thought it had. In fact, the ringing in my ears was gettinglouder with every second that I tried to concentrate on my son’s concerned expression.
Finn got an arm around my waist and tugged me upwards because I started to fall forward. The desire to be sick receded a bit, but it took me a few seconds to blink past the spots in my vision. When I did, I caught a glimmer of something golden in my periphery.
“Come on,” Finn said, voice tight as he stood up and gripped me under the arms. Ouire was right under our feet. “Mom, you gotta get up.”
Get up. Yes, that’s what I’d been doing. It took a lot more concentration than it should have to move my feet. I ended up half-collapsed on Finn’s shoulder and was barely aware of him leading me away from the room. All I could concentrate on was Andre and how he was still battling whatever this thing was.
When we reached the hall, I rolled off Finn, and he had to steady me against the wall. He didn’t release me until he was sure I could stand on my own. When I shifted my hand from behind my head, smears of red decorated my fingers. So the pot must have hit me on the back of the head. I hadn’t even realized it.
“Stay here, Mom,” Finn said. “I have to go help Andre.”
“You are not going back in there,” I snapped, my voice louder and more forceful than I felt.
Finn’s jaw set in a stubborn line. “Mom, I have to help him. You saw how he was struggling.”
“Finn…”
But his expression was resolute. “I can use my magic. I brought the coin.”
He shoved his hand toward me, extending his fingers to reveal a small, silver coin. I’d watched him cure a classroom full of cursed children with it. I knew he had power. And I knew Andre probably needed help, but notthis way.
“If you want to help, go to my nightstand. I have potions stashed there. At least one should do the trick against...”
Whatever the thing was. I hesitated to call it a ghost now that I’d seen the flickers of campfire sparks that shot up when the thing made contact with something large. Ghosts didn’t let off energy. If anything, they could drain it from the room, leaving it colder than it should have been. They could also use that energy to move things. But they didn’t emit their own energy. The creature had to be flesh and blood, which meant it could be hurt or compelled to leave.
Finn’s fingers curled protectively over the coin once more, and he gave me a sullen scowl. It was a sour expression that didn’t belong on his sweet, young face.
“I can help,” he insisted.
“I know you can, buddy,” I said, hoisting myself into a standing position by sheer will. “I’m just asking you to trust Andre and me. If this thing gets past us, you can take a crack at it.”
Which meant I just had to keep the thing from coming for us. I was lying to him by omission. The only reason that Finn would have to face the thing was if it stepped over my cooling corpse to get to him.
Finn hesitated for only a second longer. Then he beat a hasty retreat back to my room. Only then could I draw a sigh of relief. He was safe, or as safe as I could make him for the time being. Andre, on the other hand...
I had to lean sideways to see what he was doing, clutching onto the wall the whole time. The scene in the room had changed, though not in the way I’d hoped. Things were still tumbling through the air, but any time a lamp or a rug was sent flying in Andre’s direction, he struck out with the wand, and the projectile landed just shy of him. The creature was a goldenblur, pulsing an angry red-orange when it failed to bowl over its target.
I saw the baseball bat before Andre did. I tried to cry out a warning. Tried to move in time before the bat could make contact with him, but I was in no shape to even walk. He turned in time to meet the bat head-on, wand lifted. The blow drove him back a few steps, legs wobbling beneath him as he tried not to trip over the shredded remnants of the carpet. He was standing in a minefield, and one wrong move might drive him down to his knees.
There was a brilliant explosion of light when the wood of the wand met the aluminum of the baseball bat. For just a moment, the thing blinked into existence. For maybe one second. And it looked... well, it looked like a dragon, but in miniature. It was short, stooped, and scaled with a set of leathery wings. Maybe the size of a house cat. A subtle glow emanated from its hide, reminding me absurdly of summer fireflies as it flickered back out of the visible spectrum for another second. When it returned, its long, sharp talons bit into the baseball bat, spitting sparks in Andre’s direction.
I felt, rather than saw, Finn fumble the potions into my hand.
