There was a second bell toll, and Ezekiel groaned in pain. He forced himself up and stumbled forward. Angela reached out to help him, but he waved her off. “No, your empathy! The bell will hurt you too!” A third toll, and Ezekiel staggered over to a nearby alley.

On instinct, Angela looked up and down the street for help, but there was no one else around—not that anyone could’ve helped. “Should I go find Uncle Corin?”

“There’s no point!” Ezekiel exclaimed through gritted teeth. “Just wait for the bells to stop!” A fourth bell toll, and he fell forward into the shadowed alley, writhing on the pavement.

“Ezekiel!” Angela rushed forward and knelt beside him. She touched him as a fifth toll rang out, and just as Ezekiel warned, a spasm of empathic agony radiated from Angela’s chest and tore through every fiber of her body, like every vein and sinew was being boiled and split apart at the seams. She lurched back from Ezekiel.

“Stop!” Ezekiel wailed upon the sixth bell toll, his limbs locked so tight they looked like they were about to snap at the joints. “I’m sorry! Please, stop hurting me, God! I’m sorry!”

Angela heaved a frantic sob and leaned over Ezekiel again, giving him a fierce hug and bracing herself. The seventh toll resounded, and Angela endured Ezekiel’s wave of searing agony with a stubborn grunt. “I’m here, Ezekiel!” she cried. “I’m here! It’s almost over!”

Ezekiel fell silent but continued to convulse beneath Angela, his face pressed to the pavement and his arms and legs curled into a fetal position. Angela clutched him harder on the eighth bell toll, sharing in the subsequent flood of rending pain.

Then there was silence. No more bell tolls—only eight tolls for the passing of eight o’clock. Ezekiel’s body stayed rigid for several moments, quivering in Angela’s arms. She caressed the back of his head and neck. “It’s over,” she whispered. “The bell stopped. It’s over.”

Ezekiel nodded, but he kept trembling. Angela moved off him, and he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He’d been freed of the pain, but his tremors didn’t subside. No, his body shook more, and Angela could feel anger building up inside Ezekiel, growing fiercer and fiercer with each second.

Angela erected her empathic shield and inched away, afraid his mounting rage would provoke her fire magic. “Ezekiel?”

Ezekiel’s breathing quickened, his shoulders hunched, and he bellowed in fury, striking the ground with his fists and leaving cracks in the pavement. His flesh turned corpse-white, his facial features protruded into a more feral appearance, and his eyes blazed crimson with slit, snakelike pupils. He glared at his hands and struck the pavement again and again, pulverizing it and shredding his gloves.

“Ezekiel, stop!” Angela cried.

Ezekiel froze, his feral appearance melting away and his expression shifting from rage to sorrow. He turned his back to Angela and hugged himself. “I’m sorry,” he moaned. “I’m sorry.”

Angela moved closer and wrapped her arms around Ezekiel from behind. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade. “It’s over now. You’re okay.”

*****

Corin strolled along a winding lane through the park with Prudence holding his proffered arm, intermittent lampposts lighting the path ahead of them. A belltower in the distance tolled the passing of 8:00, and Corin stopped in his tracks to look back the way he and Prudence came. The sound induced an acute twinge of pain in Corin’s chest. Ceremonial bells could ward away evil, church bells in particular, but Corin was far enough away from the clocktower that the noise was bearable. He hoped Ezekiel and Angela were nowhere near that church. Should he go back and check?

“Earth to Corin,” Prudence said, giving his arm a gentle tug.

Corin blinked and turned back to Prudence. “Quoi?”

Prudence gestured ahead of them. “The fountain’s that way.”

Corin looked ahead to the recently constructed fountain in the center of a quad with several benches along the perimeter. Statues of cherubs astride saddled swans adorned the edge of the large circular basin, jets of water spouting from the swan’s upturned bills and curving down into an elevated bowl in the center of the pool.

“Yes, there it is,” Corin acknowledged with a reticent smile. “Prudence, do you mind if I make a quick call?” He took out his cellphone. “I just remembered something that I need to remind Angela of.”

Prudence frowned but nodded. “Okay.”

“You go ahead, and I’ll be just one moment.” He waited for Prudence to walk ahead of him, out of earshot, then called Angela’s cell.

“Uncle Corin?” Angela answered, her voice a little shaky.

“Angéline, please tell me you and Ezekiel weren’t near that church bell when it rang.”

There was a pause. “We were.”

“May I speak with him?” Ezekiel’s despondent voice requested, and there was a pause. “Hello, Corin.”

“Ezekiel, are you all right?” Corin asked.

“I’m fine.” Ezekiel’s tone was subdued. “Embarrassed mostly, but I’m unharmed. You know church bells aren’t lethal to us.”

“No, but they hurt. Why would you establish your dealership so close to one?”

“The dealership is far enough from the church that the ringing isn’t that painful. I normally don’t come this close to it, but the parking garage I normally use is under renovation, and I forgot to be mindful of the time.”

Corin pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine, and I’ll get Angela home right away. Please don’t worry. I’m handing the phone back to Angela.”

There was another pause before Angela’s voice came back on the line. “Uncle Corin?”

“Do you need me to come back?”

“No, we’re okay. We’re at the parking lot now.”

Corin looked over at Prudence, who stood by the fountain with an uneasy look on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Angela asserted, sounding a little exasperated now. “Everything’s fine. Just enjoy your walk and don’t worry about us. We’ll talk when you get home.”

“All right. I love you.”

“Love you too. Please, just have fun with Prudence.” Angela hung up.