A second gunshot shattered my fascinated trance. More leaves fluttered to the ground in a pocket of moonlight. The urn flew through the air toward another imp, who caught it in mid-swing, and I exhaled, then turned to glare at Cale. “What the hell are you doing?” I shoved him with my good elbow, and his next shot went wild.
He turned on me, furious and obviously frustrated. “I’m not going to shoot them,” he hissed, too low for even the nearest imp to hear. “I’m just trying to scare them into dropping the urn.”
“If he drops it, it’ll break open, genius. Then the djinni goes free.”
Cale scowled at me, but his aim faltered. “If you have a better suggestion, let’s hear it. Otherwise, be ready to catch the damn thing when it falls!” He aimed again, his jaw clenched as sweat rolled down his forehead in spite of the cold.
As Cale’s gun tracked the urn back and forth, my gaze roamed the forest, searching the dark frantically for something—anything—that would help us get Xaphan back. Or at least slow the imps down. But there was nothing but the box, me, and Cale. And Orthus, who now stood in the middle of the clearing, growling frantically as he watched imp after imp drop from the trees only to disappear among the leaves a moment later.
“Orthus, fetch!” I yelled, in a moment of panic and desperation. The hellhound cocked his head to one side, staring at me as if I’d just spoken in tongues. The urn changed hands again, swinging to my left this time, and I kicked the back of Cale’s knee to throw off his next shot. “Stop fucking shooting!” Before he could regain his balance—or retort—I turned back to Orthus. “Go get the urn, you worthless pile of bones!” I shouted, gesturing skyward with my pistol.
The hellhound barked, a sound almost as sharp as it was deep. Then he took off after the she-imp who currently cradled the urn in her arms like a baby. Growling, he leapt nearly five feet into the air after her. The girl squealed and rushed her up-swing, which threw off her balance. She arced too low to the ground.
Orthus jumped again. The imp panicked, flailing her empty, delicate hand in the air. The hound’s powerful jaws snapped shut over her wrist. She screamed as Orthus pulled on her arm, digging his paws into the dirt for purchase. Her tail slipped from her anchor’s grip. She crashed to the ground on her back, the urn still cradled in her other arm.
Cale rushed forward to snatch the ceramic jug while the imp still lay stunned and unmoving. But before he could reach her, another imp swooped in from overhead and snatched the prize right out from under his outstretched hand.
Snarling, Orthus crossed in front of me, snapping at the imp. Startled, the young man swung too close to me, the urn tucked under one arm. My left hand shot out, acting out of instinct and years of practice, rather than any conscious planning. I was just as surprised as he was when my fist wrapped around his ankle.
Grunting, I jerked on his leg, practically hanging from it. His grip on the tree branch gave way, dumping us both onto the forest floor, me on top.
Straddling his waist, I punched him just hard enough to stun him. Though I may also have knocked out a couple of his teeth. The imp hissed at me, both torn lips pulled back in a grimace. I wiped blood from my knuckles onto his shirt, then tugged the urn from his grasp with my good hand.
As I stood, triumphant, his tail snaked around my wrist. It felt like a long, thick finger, articulated, and incredibly strong. He yanked on my arm, and fresh pain ripped through my recently-healed triceps. Furious, I stomped on his groin as hard as I could. He howled, and I pulled free of his grip.
I backed out of the grounded imp’s reach, and another one dropped from a tree in front of me, reaching for the urn. I lunged to my right, only to find a third imp hanging at my back. This one’s tail curled around my left wrist, trying to loosen my grip on the urn. I twisted to the side, breaking his hold on me.
Thisis the time to shoot!I thought, searching the broken clearing for Cale and his eager gun.
“Lex!”
Spinning with the pot tucked into a football hold, I found him fighting two imps at once, each suspended from a different tree by its tail, both hands wrapped around one of the nymph’s arms. His gun was gone. He twisted and flailed, but the imps clung to him, pulling themselves farther up in the tree. In seconds, they had him suspended a good foot off the ground, his legs kicking wildly.
Anger fired through every nerve ending in my body. I was tired, hungry, and ready to get the hell out of Dodge. Scowling, I stomped toward Cale, drawing my gun.
“No!” He shouted as three more imps dropped from the trees between us. “Go! Get the urn out of here!”
Cale was right. We were outnumbered and out-maneuvered, and I didn’t have enough bullets in one magazine to take them all out. Not that it would be fair to shoot them, when they were acting under the djinni’s considerable influence.
It was time to take our toys and go home. But when I turned to race through the forest toward the lighthouse and foot trail, I found my path blocked by two more imps, one standing on the ground, the other dangling from yet another tree branch.
“Break it!” Cale shouted from behind me.
“What? No!” I lunged to my left as the imp on foot reached for the urn. Spinning to face Cale, I kicked a dangling imp in the head on my way around. “We can’t open it!”
Behind Cale, Orthus had a thin forearm clenched between his jaws, shaking some poor imp furiously, like a puppy pulling on a play-toy. He slung the creature back and forth as it screamed, blood spraying from torn flesh. Yet even Orthus was outnumbered, with two imps seated on his back, and a fourth pulling frantically on his tail, trying to free his savaged friend.
“No choice!” Cale grunted, still trying to free his arms while he dangled above the ground. “If you don’t open it, they will. Better us than them. You have to open it, Lex.”
I shook my head, ducking as a petite imp woman with long dark hair swung toward me. “I willnotgo down in history as the woman who unleashed a pyromaniac djinni on the world. No way in hell.” But what scared me—truly terrified me—was the fact that Iwantedto break it. Deep down, part of me was grasping at the straw Cale had offered as justification to do just that. The rest of the world be damned.
He swore, jerking frantically on his trapped right arm. “He can’t leave you until he repays his debt. Break the urn, but don’t make a wish. It’s the only way to keep the imps from getting him.” Roaring in fury, he kicked out with his left leg, trying to dislodge the woman who’d seized his ankle. “We’ll figure out how to get him locked up again later. Youhaveto do it, Lex. Now!” he added, as another creature swayed toward me from my left.
Setting Xaphan free was ahorribleidea, but Cale was right: better us than the imps.
Fury pounding like a second pulse in my ears, I searched the ground, looking for something to smash the urn with as five imps closed in on me, their eyes shining with anticipation—with compulsion bordering on madness.
I wasn’t close enough to the stone coffin, and there was nothing else around, except—
