Page 108 of Tell No Tales
Trin grinned at the news and refocused on the sail. A wave of white rippled from one end of the sail to the other. The fabric was still lightweight but solid. When Trin held it up, the rip was gone, and a rectangle of shade covered the roof.
"How is Klaus?" Yvette asked. "You left him down there alone?"
"I told him we would pick him up on our way. Nola?"
The water weaver nodded. "Tell him to fall back toward the water, and I'll lift him up."
Vadim walked to the edge of the roof closest to the advancing undead. Klaus was only fifty feet or so from the pond, and he had clamped down on the creatures' cores. He raised his hands to chest height and pushed his power outward, knocking them to the ground with the wave of purple that radiated from him like a wall of ghost flames.
Yvette elbowed him in the ribs to get his attention. "You were glowing".
"Glowing?"
She nodded. "Right before Klaus released his power, purple flames engulfed you."
Vadim shivered from the similarity he'd just witnessed. "Klaus's power aura is purple."
"I've never seen anything like it," Yvette said. "It's beautiful."
"He's beautiful." Vadim watched Klaus as he prepared to attack another wave of undead. His aura flashed purple again, and more purple flames found their targets, burning the foul spell from the undead.
"Have you told him yet?" Yvette asked, pulling his attention back to the rooftop.
"I will."
She nodded. "That's better than the last time I asked. I seem to remember you spouting ridiculous excuses."
He was out of excuses, and they were running out of time. He met Yvette's gaze. "Can you feel that?"
She looked askance at him.
"Coryn's awake." She'd already recovered at an impossible rate. Vadim didn't want to be at the academy when she arrived. "We need to move."
∞∞∞
Klaus
Klaus backed toward the water as Vadim had asked. He'd never been picked up by a water weaver before, but it was much the same as being lifted off the ground by currents of air. The water was heavier, but it didn't touch him. Somehow, Nola condensed the air inside her water bubble so that the air itself formed a barrier between Klaus's body and the outer sphere.
Klaus had destroyed two waves of undead, and still they came pouring out of the library. The building must have been stuffed to the walls with undead.
Thankfully, Klaus was well above their heads now, being lifted backward by Nola's sphere. The view was dizzying, but he kept ahold of his faculties until he saw the wooden box beneath his feet. Then, the gush of water dropped him the last few feet to its floor and evaporated to nothing. He fell to his knees and rested his forehead on the boards, glad to be inside their makeshift air ship, even though they were still moving at a good clip to the northwest.
"There are too many of them," Klaus said. "I could do one or two more blasts, but then I would be too tired to continue."
Vadim helped him back to his feet and held him. He was too tired to pull away. He clung to the lapels of Vadim's jacket and rested his ear over the solid beat of Vadim's heart.
When he opened his eyes, he noticed Hugo studying him with a quizzical look. He supposed their relationship would seem strange to anyone who had known Vadim when he worked for the empire. Vadim the pirate was much easier to understand, and to love, than the cold, calculating naval captain who hated the weavers who worked for him.
The crate rocked beneath the sail, and Klaus gripped Vadim tighter. Everyone but Klaus was tied to the side of the crate.
"It's all right,"Vadim said."If I can't hold on to you, Nola will catch you with a water weave before you fall."
It already felt like they were falling. Beneath them, he sensed familiar auras as they popped into his awareness, which was disconcerting. He felt them first in his toes, which made his whole body shiver.
"Mewskers will be waiting for us," Vadim said as he gripped Klaus's shoulders.
Klaus couldn't wait to see the kitten, either, but first, he needed some time alone with Vadim. They needed to have a discussion out in the open, once and for all.
