Coincidentally, the library was on the route to Rasla’s house. I almost wished we could just dart in and head home, but it was well worth stopping and erasing Rasla’s memory. There was no telling what kind of hell he’d cause for the other version of Grey.
We were only about twenty meters past the library when a shout sounded. “Devil!” Rasla’s voice echoed down the empty street.
I stopped dead in my tracks, right alongside Grey. We stood in the middle of the road. It was entirely empty. Finding Rasla here was just the most incredible kind of luck. Whether good or bad, I wasn’t sure.
I turned, spotting Rasla sprinting toward us. Two men followed him, both wearing the distinctive cloaks of sorcerers.
“I knew you were after my daughter,” Rasla hissed at me. “Did you find her? You look like her, you know. I can’t let you leave here.”
“You’re a stupid bastard,” I said. No way I was telling him a thing about his daughter.
“You will stop at once,” Grey said, his voice ringing with power.
Rasla laughed, pointing to his jacket. A gleaming red gem was pinned to the breast. “This protects me from your miserable power.”
Shit. He must have been wearing it when Grey had
tried to modify his mind before. That’s how he’d resisted Grey’s power.
Both of the sorcerers were wearing the charms as well. We’d need to do this the old-fashioned way, all without killing Rasla or his men.
Both sorcerers raised their hands, green light glowing around their palms.
Fear struck me, sharp and cold.
I’d seen this magic before. Grey had been hit by it at the Sorcerers’ Guild, nearly dying. And he’d been stronger then.
The sorcerers hurled their deadly blasts of magic at us. The acid-green clouds shot through the air. I dove right, and Grey dove left. I slammed to the ground, skidding across the cobblestones.
Aching, I scrambled upright, still intact. The blast had missed me, though just barely. Frantically, I searched for Grey. He was already on his feet, sprinting toward one of the sorcerers. The bastard was recharging his power, his palm glowing faintly green.
I plunged my hand into my potion bag and withdrew a bomb. I had no idea what it did—there was no time to look. I just threw it, hurling it at the other sorcerer. He ducked.
His hand glowed green, and I didn’t have long before he’d throw another blast at me. I sprinted for him, plunging my hand back into the satchel.
To my left, Grey reached the sorcerer before he could hurl his magic. He drew back his fist and punched him so hard in the face that the sorcerer wheeled backward, landing hard on the ground.
He lay still, unconscious.
Grey turned toward Rasla, who stood only ten feet away. He stalked toward him.
I pulled out another potion bomb and hurled it at the sorcerer who had almost charged up his second blast. It slammed into his shoulder. He gasped, going to his knees. I charged him, my eyes on the glowing green orb in his hand. It was nearly at full power. He’d hurl it at me any second.
I braced myself, ready to dodge the blast if he threw it before I reached him.
He drew back his arm, then threw.
Only, instead of hurling it at me, he chucked it at Grey, who held Rasla by the lapels, speaking harshly into his face.
“Grey!” I screamed, reaching for him.
The green magic slammed into his back.
17
Grey
The explosive force of the blast seemed to pulverize my insides. Pain like I’d never felt. An atom bomb inside my chest. My vision blacked, and my breathing stopped.