The ropes around my wrists had loosened just slightly after all that wrenching and desperate wiggling, enough that I started to slide my right hand out from under the ropes. Palmer took his time studying the spell book, apparently not concerned about being caught, and as I looked around, I wondered where the hell we were. It wasn’t my basement, that was for sure, and it wasn’t anywhere I recognized. The odds of anyone finding me seemed to slip away more and more.

Until magic pinged and echoed in my thoughts and I tensed. Palmer didn’t react, continuing with his muttering and waving as his spell built. It pulled at the deeply-rooted connection in my chest, bringing the burning ache to a sharp stabbing, though the waves of magic from far away brought hope with them. Smith. It had to be the ErlKing.

Which meant they were on their way. I just had to resist and endure. I lurched upright and ran at Palmer, taking him by surprise and knocking him back as I head-butted him. I swung the chair around to crash into him, knocking him down, and desperately starting knocking aside all the herbs and candles I could reach. The book fell to the floor, and even though it hurt to destroy knowledge like that, I scuffed my foot over the pages and kicked it away.

Palmer growled in frustration and grabbed the chair, wrenching me back, and I fell hard on my shoulder, still bound to the damn thing. The wood creaked and cracked but the ropes stayed tied. Palmer stood over me, his eyes wild and his hair askew, and practically breathed fire. “Deirdre, do not ever—”

I swung my legs, trying out a move I’d seen in the movies, and tried to knock him down by buckling his knees. He staggered but didn’t go down. One of the candles, tipped over but still burning, rolled and rested against the book. I sucked in a breath, ready to warn him, but Palmer lunged and blocked everything else from view as the flames licked at the rough parchment. Smoke filled the air and made it difficult to breathe or think; he cursed as he stood over me.

“I don’t need the book,” he snapped. “Stupid, Deirdre. So very stupid.”

I tried to roll, so maybe the chair would protect my back, but Palmer planted a boot in my shoulder and kicked me back to my side. The broken wood gouged into my side, making me grit my teeth, and I arched my back to get more room. I could almost free my hand. So close. So very close. I just needed a bit more time. “Fuck off, Palmer. You’re nothing. You can’t do shit to control me; don’t think for a second that I won’t spend every day of my life figuring out a way to get free of you. It won’t matter. None of your spells will hold me. Just wait. See the truth in my eyes.”

And I glared at him, willing him to see the world of fucking pain he was about to enter if he cast that spell.

He saw it, I knew he did, because he hesitated. His hands stilled and his head tilted as he studied me, then a cruel smile curled his lips. “Good thing this is one of your spells, Deirdre.”

I shrieked and flailed, but the pull against my chest increased and something began to tear as he chanted, lifting his hands. Smoke plumed around us, darkening the already dim room, and Palmer’s voice rose along with the dark coils of black smoke.

My right hand ripped free of the ropes and I clawed at my left hand, arching my back, just as I rolled and the chair splintered and I could see the door and a sliver of light. Freedom. So close. So close but still so out of reach.

I screamed, in my head and my heart and into the dark void swirling around me, “Miles!”

Palmer chuckled and something ripped free in my chest as the magic recoiled.