Bound by Alan Baxter Page B

expect?’
    ‘What are you going on about? What am I supposed to see?’
    Alex turned and walked up the stairs, feeling a shiver of magesign as he passed through Welby’s wards. Silhouette gasped behind him. He turned, looked down at her. ‘See now?’
    She laughed, wide-eyed. ‘Well, of course I can see now you’ve shattered the wards for me.’
    ‘They’re still here, I think. Can you follow me up?’
    Silhouette made a strange gesture with her hand then shrugged. She mounted the stairs and followed him. ‘Bloody clever,’ she muttered. ‘Certainly not Welby’s own work. He must have paid a lot for this.’
    ‘I don’t think money was much of an issue for him.’
    ‘Clearly.’
    In Welby’s study Alex started looking more closely at the books that lined every wall. Nothing made a lot of sense to him. There was a wealth of information here, not to mention massive monetary value, but it wasn’t worth the paper it was written on at this stage. What could he use? Silhouette walked slowly around the room, running one finger along the spines of the books.
    ‘This is amazing,’ she said. ‘Do you realise how amazing this is?’
    ‘Sure. But I need something to help me with my situation.’
    For hours they pored over Welby’s library, looking for anything that might shed some light on Alex’s dilemma. A small pile of books grew crookedly in the middle of the floor, all incredible, all containing unbelievable degrees of knowledge and magic. Tomes that mentioned anything about Fey history or curses or stones of power. Eventually, tired, despondent, Alex stared at the works they had gathered.
    ‘None of this is really helpful, is it?’
    Silhouette smiled ruefully. ‘I’m not sure there’s anything that can help you with your current predicament.’
    Alex spun on his heel. ‘Fuck this! I’m going to burn this book.’
    Silhouette trotted to catch up. ‘I’m not sure burning’s a good idea.’
    Alex glared over his shoulder, his eyes alive with fury.
    Silhouette held up both palms. ‘All right, easy there.’ She giggled. ‘Give it a go.’
    Alex went into the front room. He pulled aside a decorative grate from an open fireplace and stuffed newspaper and kindling into the hearth from a large basket. Bigger logs of firewood were stacked neatly in a box beside it. Within a few minutes he had a fire raging, bright orange flames licking at the blackened bricks of the chimney. He felt Silhouette moving behind him. He looked around to see her standing in the hallway, one hand on the front door. ‘What are you doing?’
    She seemed fairly amused by his actions. ‘Just being cautious.’
    Alex deflated. ‘It’s not going to work, is it?’
    Silhouette shrugged.
    ‘Fuck it!’ He pulled the book from his pocket. Magesign swam urgently around his hand and arm. Holding the book towards the flames he felt a flood of desperation and entertainment combined. The book had a presence, a personality almost, and it mocked him. Dared him. With a growl of anger he threw the small book into the dancing flames.
    Nothing happened. The fire seemed to slide around the book without touching it. Then the flames bit and gathered across the smooth leather cover. The page edges began to blacken. Then spark.
    Silhouette’s voice was concerned. ‘Er, Alex?’
    Alex stood, backing away. ‘What’s it doing?’
    ‘Not exactly burning.’ The front door clicked open.
    The book expanded, as though the fire filled it rather than burned it. The sparks became blue arcs of lightning, snapping and popping around it and the charcoaled wood it sat on. A feeling of pressure filled the room, like the air before a massive storm.
    ‘Alex, you might want to move further away.’
    As a sharp, ear-drilling howl joined the lightning in the fireplace, he turned and ran, diving out the door as heat and light burst all around. Silhouette caught him as he flew through the air, pushed along by an explosive force that shattered the windows and blew