With a wordless cry of fury, Eleanor reached for more power—in what might have been an unexpected place. Not to the physical fires being extinguished by more gnomes, but down—down past the layer of Earth where Alison's power lay, down past the planet's stony skin, down into the place where the Earth itself gave way to Fire, and the molten rock showed which of the Powers was stronger—
"No!" It was Alison's turn to shout, as she concentrated all of her anger and fury on Eleanor.
The fury began to take shape, rising out of the earth before them.
A Giant.
Not the sort that Jack had met at the top of his beanstalk. That Giant, uncouth as he had been, was a paragon of intelligence and sophistication next to this thing.
It was made of the earth that it rose from. Near-shapeless, it had a blob of rancid clay for a head, with two holes gouged out for eyes, at the bottom of each of which glowed the same, sickly-yellow light as suffused the stones. A misshapen lump defined a nose, and beneath that, was an empty yawn of a mouth. It had no neck to speak of; the head seemed to grow directly from the moss-covered, massive shoulders. And as yet, it had no discernable arms or legs—
That changed in a moment; a club-like arm with undifferentiated mitten-hands reached out, snatched up a battling gnome and Salamander together, and tossed them both into its gaping maw, devouring them both with a single gulp.
It grew a trifle, and reached out for another pair of fighters—
Horrified, Eleanor looked away for a moment—and caught sight of Alison.
Her stepmother was transfixed by the battle; partly because she was pouring everything she had into her creation, and partly in mesmerized pleasure at the carnage.
But she had forgotten something.
She had dropped her additional protections, relying only on her old, unaugmented shields.
And Eleanor now knew how to unweave those—she had used the same key on her shields as she had on the spells binding Eleanor to the hearthstone.
Reggie had struggled to his good knee and was staring in horror at the giant, shaking in every limb, his eyes wide. She grabbed his arm and shook it. He wrenched his gaze away from the giant and looked up at her. His face was so pale he looked like a corpse.
"We have one chancel" she shouted, over the bass growls of the giant. "Help me!"
From somewhere, he dragged up the final dregs of his courage. Life came back into his eyes.
"Her shields!" she cried, "Forget about the giant—drop
He nodded; he dropped the staff and she crouched beside him; they clasped hands and let their own shields go.
Alison howled in triumph; the giant echoed it, and wrenched himself up further out of the earth.
Alison's shields flickered as she let the last of her concentration slip from them.
And together, a single melded lance of Fire and Air struck at the weakest point, blasting it away—and the shields unraveled.
Alison faltered, and took a single step back. The loss of her shields confused her for one vital moment.
And the giant turned, wrenching its body completely out of the ground. It stared at her for several long seconds; her eyes widened, as she realized in that instant that she was unprotected—
—and that all around her were creatures she had forced to obey her with whatever weapon came to hand. Creatures who saw her momentarily unprotected.
Like the giant that she had just created out of earth and blood and pain.
She looked up at it with her mouth open. It looked down at her.
And then, it fell upon her, burying her alive in a mound of freshly-turned soil before she could make a sound.
The last of the gnomes swarmed over the mound, burying themselves into the ground where she had been.
And suddenly, there was silence—except for the mindless whimpering of the two creatures that had once been Carolyn and Lauralee.
Reggie sank slowly to the ground, his teeth gritted against the agony of his ruined knee—slowly, only because Eleanor caught him as he fell and eased him down. That took the last of
SOME OF THE GIRLS THOUGHT the little studies in Somerville College were cramped and shabby. Then again, some of the girls were accustomed to the kind of accommodation one found at Longacre Park ... for Eleanor, even if the study had been the size and bleakness of her garret room at The Arrows, it still would have been paradise. A raw November wind rattled the windows, but she had a fine fire going (and before long, someone with less access to wood or a more slender budget for coal would be around to "borrow" a log or two). One of the scouts had managed tea and toast; Eleanor had jam and butter from Sarah by parcel this morning. All was right with the world.