“Perhaps you can visit,” she said. “Go home and sort out this problem with your beau. Once you’ve embraced your magic fully, you’ll know if you’re strong enough to come back here. But it’s a risk every time, remember. You must not change the past.”
I sighed, my heart hurting. I couldn’t come back. Not with so much at risk.
Grey stepped around to my side and met Evangeline’s gaze. “Do you have enough money to start your new life?”
“Enough?” She nodded, though it was uncertain. “I have enough.”
He frowned, then reached into his pocket and handed her a pouch like the one he’d given Mrs. Birch-Cleve. “Take this to help.”
She took it and looked down at it, shaking her head. “How strange this day has been.”
“No kidding.” I hugged her briefly, trying not to squash the baby, then pulled back. “We’d best be going.”
She nodded. “Good luck.”
I gave her one last look, then turned. We hurried out of the garden, cutting our way through the crowd. There was so much to think about and talk about—like what the hell was I supposed to do?
But first, we needed to find Rasla and erase his memory of Grey so that his past wouldn’t be modified.
We made it to the Haunted Hound in record time, passing through to Guild City a few moments later. It was late in the evening, the streetlamps illuminating the ancient city. People milled about, laughing and happy.
“Shall we go to his house?” I asked.
“Yes. That’s the best place to start.” He led the way, cutting through the city.
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.
Dying.
There was no other end to this.
I dropped to my knees in a total state of shock. There was silence all around—deadly, deafening silence that had to be false. It was only this silent when you lost your hearing.
Or when you were dead.
A scream broke through the quiet, piercing my mind, dragging me back to the present. Agony still suffused every inch of me, but I managed to force my eyes open. Through bleary vision, I spotted a confused Rasla staring at me.
The charm that had been pinned to his lapel was gone, and he blinked in a slow, befuddled manner.
I’d torn off the protective charm and erased his memory right before I’d been hit. What about the sorcerers? I didn’t need them making hell for my former self. It was almost impossible to keep my thoughts in order, but I forced every ounce of energy that I had toward the task.
I might be dying now—I was definitely dying now—but if I didn’t clean up this mess for my past self, then history might change and keep me from ever meeting Carrow.
I couldn’t lose the time I’d had with her.
The thought gave me strength.
She appeared at my side a half moment later, dropping to her knees. “Grey!”
She touched me gently, her hands running over my body, searching for wounds. I leaned into her touch, drawing strength from her. She wouldn’t find any wounds on the outside, but I already knew that I was running on the fumes of death.
Still on my knees, I reached up and grabbed Rasla’s coat, pulling him down to face me. I used all the magic I had left to say, “Forget this ever happened or that you have any quarrel with me. If your men speak of it, they are lying.”
He nodded, his gaze unfocused and his mouth slack.
“Go.”
He turned and walked off, moving slowly.
“Grey.” Carrow moved around to face me, shoving a tiny vial into my hands. “Here. The last healing potion. Take it.”
The cork had already been removed, so I tossed it back.
The liquid ran down my throat and filled my belly, but I only felt a fraction of its power. The pain still surged, and nausea followed in its wake.