Read Online Set in Stone by Frank Morin - Free Book Online
Authors: Frank Morin
Tags: ya fantasy
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the crack."
"How far?"
"I don't know, a lot."
Connor didn't pretend to understand how the oven worked, but Aunt Ailsa had said it would produce constant heat for decades. This inferno would surely burn out much faster, but he could not guess how soon.
"We have to put it out!"
"How?"
"Grab your side."
Connor ran around the billowing flames, and had to shield his face from the incredible heat. He grabbed one side of the oven while Hamish approached the other. Where the stone had been warm to the touch before, now it burned his fingers.
"Try turning it off," Connor said.
Hamish grimaced and placed his hands on the oven. He concentrated for a moment, and absently licked the top of the oven. Then he recoiled and rubbed his mouth.
"Hurry."
"Burned my tongue."
Hamish focused again, and after a couple long seconds, he laughed. "Got it."
The oven seemed to groan, and the tongue of fire leaped out until it stretched across the entire room to the cupboards on the far side. They blackened and started to smoke.
"What did you do?" Connor shouted.
Hamish stared, mouth agape. "Wow."
Aileen appeared from the lower levels, and stopped in the doorway to stare. "What in the name of my lady's impure soul is going on here?"
Connor shouted, "Hamish, help me."
The two of them leveraged the oven forward to the front end of the table. It fought them, as if the flames were driving it back. It took all of their strength to slide it forward those six inches.
"Oh, my boys, be careful," Aileen cried.
"Stay there," Connor called. "We need to put this out."
"What happened?"
"The oven . . . just broke," Connor said between labored breaths.
With a final heave, Connor shoved the oven off the front of the table. The tongue of flame roared louder as it tilted down and scorched stones of the floor. With a thunderous bang, the heavy oven fell to the floor, with the flames facing down.
Hamish said, "Good thinking, Connor."
Aileen dabbed her face. "Oh, my."
Connor frowned and leaned over the oven. Now that it was face-down on the stone floor, there would be less air for the fire and it should smother, but the oven was starting to shake and rattle. It was as if it was trying to right itself.
Could it do that?
He had no idea. He knew almost nothing about it. It's not like Aunt Ailsa sent them detailed instructions. The itching in his arms intensified and spread all through his torso.
Connor grimaced against the urge to scratch, and leaned over the top of the oven to brace it. "Hamish, I think . . ."
Before he could finish, the oven shot up off the floor and drove into his chest. Flames poured out the open door, and Hamish dove back to avoid the inferno. Aileen screamed and retreated a step down toward the basement, ready to bolt.
Connor shouted as the oven pushed him into the air.
He was flying!
How could such a heavy oven do that? It didn't matter. He started to laugh, even though the oven was now hot enough to blister his skin right through his shirt.
His weight was not centered over the oven, and as it rose, it tilted, shooting flames toward Hamish while the entire oven started floating across the room in the opposite direction. Hamish yelped, retreated, and jumped into the huge wash basin.
Connor yanked on the oven and shifted his weight to try to bring the flames vertical and drive the cursed oven back to the floor. For a second, he held it level, but instead of sinking to the floor, the oven climbed higher.
Then the balance shifted again and it started tilting the other way. Connor heaved against it again, but over compensated, and it started to spin, with the flames scorching a wide circle in the floor. He gritted his teeth and tried again, but only managed to set it spinning faster.
Flames sprayed across the room, and the tables, cupboards and counters all started to smoke and blacken. The itch of Connor's curse intensified throughout his body, and he groaned against the maddening urge to tear at his skin. He'd never felt it
"How far?"
"I don't know, a lot."
Connor didn't pretend to understand how the oven worked, but Aunt Ailsa had said it would produce constant heat for decades. This inferno would surely burn out much faster, but he could not guess how soon.
"We have to put it out!"
"How?"
"Grab your side."
Connor ran around the billowing flames, and had to shield his face from the incredible heat. He grabbed one side of the oven while Hamish approached the other. Where the stone had been warm to the touch before, now it burned his fingers.
"Try turning it off," Connor said.
Hamish grimaced and placed his hands on the oven. He concentrated for a moment, and absently licked the top of the oven. Then he recoiled and rubbed his mouth.
"Hurry."
"Burned my tongue."
Hamish focused again, and after a couple long seconds, he laughed. "Got it."
The oven seemed to groan, and the tongue of fire leaped out until it stretched across the entire room to the cupboards on the far side. They blackened and started to smoke.
"What did you do?" Connor shouted.
Hamish stared, mouth agape. "Wow."
Aileen appeared from the lower levels, and stopped in the doorway to stare. "What in the name of my lady's impure soul is going on here?"
Connor shouted, "Hamish, help me."
The two of them leveraged the oven forward to the front end of the table. It fought them, as if the flames were driving it back. It took all of their strength to slide it forward those six inches.
"Oh, my boys, be careful," Aileen cried.
"Stay there," Connor called. "We need to put this out."
"What happened?"
"The oven . . . just broke," Connor said between labored breaths.
With a final heave, Connor shoved the oven off the front of the table. The tongue of flame roared louder as it tilted down and scorched stones of the floor. With a thunderous bang, the heavy oven fell to the floor, with the flames facing down.
Hamish said, "Good thinking, Connor."
Aileen dabbed her face. "Oh, my."
Connor frowned and leaned over the oven. Now that it was face-down on the stone floor, there would be less air for the fire and it should smother, but the oven was starting to shake and rattle. It was as if it was trying to right itself.
Could it do that?
He had no idea. He knew almost nothing about it. It's not like Aunt Ailsa sent them detailed instructions. The itching in his arms intensified and spread all through his torso.
Connor grimaced against the urge to scratch, and leaned over the top of the oven to brace it. "Hamish, I think . . ."
Before he could finish, the oven shot up off the floor and drove into his chest. Flames poured out the open door, and Hamish dove back to avoid the inferno. Aileen screamed and retreated a step down toward the basement, ready to bolt.
Connor shouted as the oven pushed him into the air.
He was flying!
How could such a heavy oven do that? It didn't matter. He started to laugh, even though the oven was now hot enough to blister his skin right through his shirt.
His weight was not centered over the oven, and as it rose, it tilted, shooting flames toward Hamish while the entire oven started floating across the room in the opposite direction. Hamish yelped, retreated, and jumped into the huge wash basin.
Connor yanked on the oven and shifted his weight to try to bring the flames vertical and drive the cursed oven back to the floor. For a second, he held it level, but instead of sinking to the floor, the oven climbed higher.
Then the balance shifted again and it started tilting the other way. Connor heaved against it again, but over compensated, and it started to spin, with the flames scorching a wide circle in the floor. He gritted his teeth and tried again, but only managed to set it spinning faster.
Flames sprayed across the room, and the tables, cupboards and counters all started to smoke and blacken. The itch of Connor's curse intensified throughout his body, and he groaned against the maddening urge to tear at his skin. He'd never felt it
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