Read Online Set in Stone by Frank Morin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Frank Morin
Tags: ya fantasy
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so strong.
The roar of the fire seemed like a living thing, and the heat in the kitchen was quickly growing unbearable. The oven smelled like sulfur and fire root.
"Oh spirits, preserve us," Aileen cried as Connor spun wildly around the room toward where she crouched in the doorway.
"Look out," Connor shouted.
As flames sprayed toward her, Aileen jumped back out of the way. She disappeared through the door, and from the shrieks and loud clatter that echoed back into the room, she must have tumbled down the long flight of stairs to the first sub-basement level.
"Sorry," Connor whispered as he held on to the spinning oven. The thrill of flying had already faded, and he just hoped he wouldn't be sick. Although, if he threw up while spinning so fast, he'd get some great distance. He'd probably beat Hamish's record.
The oven carried him into the wall near the outer door. For a second, Connor was tempted to try to push it that way. If he could get the door open, he could get it out of the kitchen before it set everything on fire.
Then again, it was still climbing, pushing him up the wall. If he managed to get it outside, there would be nothing to prevent it from lifting him into the sky.
No, better to shove it into the hearth.
If he could wedge it into the huge fireplace, it couldn't do any harm until it burned itself out.
Connor pushed off from the wall and tried to twist the oven at the same time to point it toward the hearth. He misjudged the required force and instead sent himself spinning out into the room.
"Stones take it," he muttered. Flying was a lot more complicated than the birds made it seem.
Flames spewed around the room, and the already-blackened cupboards burst into open flame under the new fiery onslaught.
At the sight, Hamish leaped out of the wash basin and shouted, "Save the food!"
"Save yourself, grout-for-brains," Connor shouted. Smoke was filling the room, and he started to cough.
Hamish ignored him and raced to the sweetbread cupboard. He managed to pry open the burning door and started yanking the pastries out and throwing them at the window.
It was closed. Pastries bounced off and littered the floor. Hamish did not seem to notice, but moved to the next cupboard and started throwing fruit. One apple broke the window, and fresh air rushed into the kitchen. Connor breathed deep the cool breeze, but so did the flames, and the fire roared higher.
Hamish yelped, and ran for the washbasin again. He slipped on a burning muffin, lost his footing, and skidded across the floor on his stomach. He ended up under a burning counter.
The spinning oven collided with the wall not far from Hamish, and Connor pushed off again before the flames consumed his friend. This time, he set himself better and shot away from the wall in a straight line. He looked up to find he wasn't headed for the hearth, but for the closed door leading to the formal dining room.
Connor grimaced at the thought of what the flames would do to that door, but there was nothing he could do about it. He focused instead on figuring out how to bounce the floating oven across the room from one wall to another to reach the hearth, hopefully before the oven drove him into the ceiling. He should be able to make it in three bounces.
As he neared the door, Connor braced himself for the impact even though he started coughing so hard he felt like he might spit out a lung. Just before he reached the door, it opened and Lady Isobel stepped into the opening.
Their eyes met, and her look of shocked surprise was priceless. Then Connor realized the oven was about to kill her. He threw his weight against the oven to try to avoid the collision.
He forgot that the flames always moved in the opposite direction.
The roaring tongue of fire tilted forward and completely enveloped Lady Isobel and the door. She screamed and tumbled out of view. He caught a brief glimpse of her before the oven collided with the wall above the door, and the sight made him
The roar of the fire seemed like a living thing, and the heat in the kitchen was quickly growing unbearable. The oven smelled like sulfur and fire root.
"Oh spirits, preserve us," Aileen cried as Connor spun wildly around the room toward where she crouched in the doorway.
"Look out," Connor shouted.
As flames sprayed toward her, Aileen jumped back out of the way. She disappeared through the door, and from the shrieks and loud clatter that echoed back into the room, she must have tumbled down the long flight of stairs to the first sub-basement level.
"Sorry," Connor whispered as he held on to the spinning oven. The thrill of flying had already faded, and he just hoped he wouldn't be sick. Although, if he threw up while spinning so fast, he'd get some great distance. He'd probably beat Hamish's record.
The oven carried him into the wall near the outer door. For a second, Connor was tempted to try to push it that way. If he could get the door open, he could get it out of the kitchen before it set everything on fire.
Then again, it was still climbing, pushing him up the wall. If he managed to get it outside, there would be nothing to prevent it from lifting him into the sky.
No, better to shove it into the hearth.
If he could wedge it into the huge fireplace, it couldn't do any harm until it burned itself out.
Connor pushed off from the wall and tried to twist the oven at the same time to point it toward the hearth. He misjudged the required force and instead sent himself spinning out into the room.
"Stones take it," he muttered. Flying was a lot more complicated than the birds made it seem.
Flames spewed around the room, and the already-blackened cupboards burst into open flame under the new fiery onslaught.
At the sight, Hamish leaped out of the wash basin and shouted, "Save the food!"
"Save yourself, grout-for-brains," Connor shouted. Smoke was filling the room, and he started to cough.
Hamish ignored him and raced to the sweetbread cupboard. He managed to pry open the burning door and started yanking the pastries out and throwing them at the window.
It was closed. Pastries bounced off and littered the floor. Hamish did not seem to notice, but moved to the next cupboard and started throwing fruit. One apple broke the window, and fresh air rushed into the kitchen. Connor breathed deep the cool breeze, but so did the flames, and the fire roared higher.
Hamish yelped, and ran for the washbasin again. He slipped on a burning muffin, lost his footing, and skidded across the floor on his stomach. He ended up under a burning counter.
The spinning oven collided with the wall not far from Hamish, and Connor pushed off again before the flames consumed his friend. This time, he set himself better and shot away from the wall in a straight line. He looked up to find he wasn't headed for the hearth, but for the closed door leading to the formal dining room.
Connor grimaced at the thought of what the flames would do to that door, but there was nothing he could do about it. He focused instead on figuring out how to bounce the floating oven across the room from one wall to another to reach the hearth, hopefully before the oven drove him into the ceiling. He should be able to make it in three bounces.
As he neared the door, Connor braced himself for the impact even though he started coughing so hard he felt like he might spit out a lung. Just before he reached the door, it opened and Lady Isobel stepped into the opening.
Their eyes met, and her look of shocked surprise was priceless. Then Connor realized the oven was about to kill her. He threw his weight against the oven to try to avoid the collision.
He forgot that the flames always moved in the opposite direction.
The roaring tongue of fire tilted forward and completely enveloped Lady Isobel and the door. She screamed and tumbled out of view. He caught a brief glimpse of her before the oven collided with the wall above the door, and the sight made him
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