Page 80 of Broken

Chapter 33

“Stop right there,” Cole said. “We don’t want to harm anyone, but we will.”

Bathiaz burst into laughter. He gestured to Sakir, who waved his hand negligently. The machine gun was yanked out of Cole’s hands and flew through the air.

Immediately, Cole joined his magic to Ireland’s and yanked it back. Sakir, startled, lost control of his spell, and the weapon returned to Cole.

“My power has grown since the last time you saw me,” Ireland said. “And I have a new Protector now.”

Bathiaz’ gaze darkened with anger.

Ireland moved her arm in an arc, and a half-circle of protection rose around them. “Can you hold it?” she murmured to Cole. “I have to set the anchor.”

He gave a curt nod. She could feel him splitting his attention between Bathiaz and Sekir, knowing they weren’t going to give up without a fight.

“You are fools!” Bathiaz called to them. “Your Dark power is nothing to ours!” He pulled a round disc like a pitch pipe from a pocket in his robe and blew into it.

A musical note filled the air, growing louder and louder even after he lowered the pipe.

The air over the semicircle of high stone chairs began to shiver.

Ireland was working the anchor spell as fast she could, but it was harder this time because of the power Cole needed to maintain the protective circle. “Should I shoot them?” Cole asked. She knew he wouldn’t hesitate.

She shook her head. She could feel the power of the Valley beneath her and all around her. A slow dark feeling of being trapped, with an anger built up over centuries.

Thanatos was right. Violent bloodshed could set it off like a volcano erupting.

A quick glance told her the shimmers over the thrones were intensifying into holographic figures. Bathiaz had called the Bright Fae Council, and they were dialing in to the Valley from wherever they were.

Bathiaz chanted a spell that thundered through the air. Out of the depths of her memory, Ireland recognized it as the activation spell for the bracelets—only in reverse.

Before she could warn Cole or finish her spell, the magic shut off like a spigot. The protective circle dropped.

And the Council was there.

Cole gripped her hand tightly. “Did you set the anchor?” he asked, barely loud enough for her to hear.

She shook her head minutely.

“Plan B,” he said.

She knew what he meant. Play for time; the Outlaw Ridge team was on the way. But that might mean guns and blood and death, and the Valley itself in revolt.

The High One, the head of the Council, looked down on them from his lofty perch.

“Outcast One!” he thundered. That would be her. According to them, she wasn’t worthy of a name; she’d chosen her own. “You have defied us, and allowed this creature of the Dark to convince you to come into the heart of our dominion and free the worst of our enemies. You are guilty of crimes against the Bright Fae. Come forth to the place of judgement!”

Ireland waited for the sense of withering shame that used to come over her when the Council spoke to her in that tone.

It didn’t happen. Their words had no power to shame her anymore.

She lifted her voice to reply. “Walk out there to be chained to those pillars, just because you told me to? I don’t think so.”

The Council was not used to being defied to their faces. For a moment the High One just stared at her.

“Keep them talking,” Cole said.

“Come forth!” the High One thundered again.