A gust of wind shot from my palm with the strength of a battering ram. I held my breath, keeping control of it, softening the power. I didn’t want to send him hurtling through the graveyard.
I just wanted him to fall a few feet…
Reggie grunted as the wind hit him in the chest, his arms windmilling to keep him from falling. Like a golf ball struck by a putter, he slid back a few feet—and fell.
Right into the grave dirt.
Jenkins exploded into furious yips and barks as Reggie landed beside him, his skin immediately sticking to the spell like flypaper.
Reggie tried to raise his hands to protect himself from the infuriated dog, but his arms wouldn’t move.
“You have a choice, Reginald,” I said, raising my voice. “You can tell me how to counter your spell, or you can die for your revenge.”
Reggie let out a wordless scream of pure rage.
“That’s not an answer,” I said evenly.
He screamed again, then let out an impressive stream of curse words that made me look for Peasblossom with the urge to cover her ears.
When he was done, I let out a deep sigh and sat down on the ground, ignoring the way the frozen earth immediately sucked the warmth from my body. My heart pounded despite my impressively calm voice. If he didn’t tell me how to disenchant that grave dirt, I’d have to figure it out myself. And I was no necromancer, so that would take time. Time Poppy might not have.
I needed Reggie to answer me.
“This is just a guess,” I said casually. “But I’m betting the spell will drain you faster than Poppy, what with its connection to youbeing direct and the connection to Poppy being through a proxy. So you go ahead and have a good long think about how you want to handle this.”
Reggie clenched his teeth and pressed his lips together.
“Jenkins,” Poppy wheezed, her eyes almost completely closed. “Get him.”
Jenkins bared his tiny teeth and lunged for Reggie.
He was too stuck in the tar to move his lower body, but fortunately Reggie was close enough.
Jenkins bit him on the nose.
“Jenkins isn’t just a dog,” Poppy said, lifting her eyelids enough to give Reggie a rather disturbing look. “He’s an extension of my magic. And your spell is draining…your life force. A step away from life…is a step toward death.”
I had no idea what she was saying.
But apparently, Reggie did.
“I’ll tell you!” Reggie screamed.
Jenkins released Reggie’s nose and sat down, trying to wag his tail. Bits of fur stuck to the tar, but it didn’t seem to bother the happy terrier.
Poppy’s threat was all the motivation Reggie needed. He couldn’t share the method of disenchantment fast enough, and thirty minutes later, the ensorcelled grave dirt was just dirt, and he and Catherine were tied to a tree while we waited for the Vanguard to come and get them.
“Good boy,” Poppy cooed, holding a hand out to Jenkins.
The little terrier yipped and barked, his tail wagging so hard I worried it would detach from his little zombie body.
Poppy beamed as Jenkins pressed his head into her hand. “Time to go back to sleep now.”
The terrier obediently dropped to the ground, resting his head on his paws. His eyes closed as Poppy withdrew her power from the tiny dog, the magic draining away to leave Jenkins a pile of polished white bones.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked Poppy.
“I’ll be fine,” Poppy said, sounding a little breathless. She scooped up the dog bones and gently placed them back into her backpack. After she fastened the skull to her bag, she pointed at the pouch in my hand, which held the remnants of Reggie’s spell. “I’ll feel a lot better if the Vanguard can figure out a way to give me back my life force. If I have to heal it myself, that will mean no necromancy for at least six months. Maybe a year.”
