"Come help me find them!"
Theo came to their aid. Drawing up the white bul whip, she whirled it once around her head and cracked it precisely on Inari's raised hands, leaving a bloody gash on one. As a furious Inari turned back to her, Meredith and Matt ran.
"The back door,"Matt said as they careered around the side of the house. Up ahead they saw a wooden fence, but no gate. Meredith was just considering using the stave to pole-vault, when Matt panted, "Here!"and made a cradle of his hands for her to step into. "I'l boost you over!"
Meredith hesitated only an instant. Then, as he skidded to a stop she jumped to place one foot in his inter-locked fingers.
Suddenly she was flying upward. She made the most of it, landing, catlike, on the fence's flat top, and then jumping down. She could hear Matt scrambling up the fence as she was suddenly surrounded by black smoke. She jumped backward three feet and yel ed, "Matt, the smoke is dangerous! Get low; hold your breath. Stay outside to help them when I bring them out!"
Meredith had no idea whether Matt would listen to her or not, but she obeyed her own rules, crouching low, breath held, opening her eyes briefly to try to find the door.
Then she almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of an axe crashing into wood, of wood splintering, and of the axe crashing again. She opened her eyes and saw that Matt hadn't listened to her, but she was glad because he'd found the door. His face was black with soot. "It was locked,"he explained, hefting the axe.
Any optimism Meredith might have felt splintered like the door as she looked inside and saw only flames and more flames.
My God, she thought, anyone in there is roasting, is probably dead already.
But where had that thought come from? Her knowledge or her fear? Meredith couldn't just stop now. She took a step into searing heat and shouted, "Isobel! Mrs. Saitou! Where are you?"
There was a weak, choking cry. "That's the kitchen!"she said.
"Matt, it's Mrs. Saitou! Please go get her!"
Matt obeyed, but threw over his shoulder, "Don't you go farther in."
Meredith had to go farther in. She remembered very well where Isobel's room was. Directly under her "grandmother's."
"Isobel! Isobel! Can you hear me?"Her voice was so low and husky from smoke that she knew she had to keep going.
Isobel might be unconscious or too hoarse to answer.
Meredith dropped to her knees, crawling on the ground where the air was slightly cooler and more clear.
Okay. Isobel's room. She didn't want to touch the door handle with her hand, so she wrapped her T-shirt around it.
The handle wouldn't turn. Locked. She didn't bother to investigate how, she simply turned around and mule-kicked the door right beside the handle. Wood splintered. Another kick, and with a wooden scream the door swung free.
Meredith was feeling dizzy now, but she needed to see the entire room. She took two strides in, and - there!
Sitting up on the bed in the smoky, hot, but otherwise scrupulously tidy little room was Isobel. As Meredith neared the bed she saw - to her fury - that the girl was tied to the brass headboard with duct tape. Two slashes of the stave took care of that. Then, amazingly, Isobel moved, raising a blackened face up to Meredith's.
That was when Meredith's fury peaked. The girl had duct tape across her mouth, to prevent her from making any cry for help. Wincing herself to show that she knew this was going to be painful, Meredith grasped the duct tape and stripped it off. Isobel didn't cry out; instead she took in lungful after lungful of smoky air.
Meredith stumbled toward the closet, snatched two identical-looking white shirts, and swerved back to Isobel. There was a ful tumbler of water right beside her, on the nightstand.
Meredith wondered if it had been put there deliberately to increase Isobel's agony, but she didn't hesitate to use it. She gave Isobel a quick sip, took one herself, and then soaked each shirt. She held one over her own mouth and Isobel mimicked her, holding the wet shirt over her nose and mouth.
Then Meredith grabbed her and guided her back to the door.
After that it simply became a nightmare journey of crawling and kneeling and choking, pul ing Isobel with her al the time.
Meredith thought it would never end, as each inch forward became harder and harder. The stave was an unbearable weight to heave along with her, but she refused to let go of it.
It's precious, her mind said, but is it worth your life?
No, Meredith thought. Not my life, but who knows what else wil be out there if I get Isobel into the cool darkness?
You'l never get her there if you die because of - an object.
It's not an object! Painful y Meredith used the stave to clear some smoldering debris from her path. It belonged to Grandpa in the time when he was sane. It fits my hand. It's not just a thing!
Have it your own way, the voice said, and disappeared.
Meredith was beginning to run into more debris now.
Despite the cramping in her lungs, she was sure that she could make it out of the back door. She knew there should be a laundry room on her right. They should be able to feel a space there.
And then suddenly in the dark something reared up and struck her a blow on the head. It took her dimming mind a long time to come up with a name for the thing that had hurt her. Armchair.
Somehow they'd crawled too far. This was the living room.
Meredith was flooded with horror. They'd gone too far - and they couldn't go out the front door into the midst of magical battle. They would have to backtrack, and this time make sure to find the laundry room, their gate to freedom.
Meredith turned around, pul ing Isobel with her, hoping the younger girl would understand what they had to do.
She left the stave on the burning living room floor.