by A. L. Knorr
Marcus’s entire body arched in agony, his teeth clamping down on the leather that muffled his scream. His hands knotted into trembling fists to pound against the bed, while his head beat a staccato tattoo. His uninjured leg thrashed, nearly knocking me out of the Land Rover as I crawled toward him. Daria had secured the injured leg between her own and was wrapping it in a long, swaddling bandage.
“Marcus, I’m here.” I slid up next to him, a soothing hand on his arm.
His breath billowed in my face, and I could hear the jingling buckle of the belt still clutched in his teeth. I reached out to stroke his brow. His skin was cold and clammy, but I could feel his entire body clenched with pain. My throat threatened to close up, seeing him like this.
“He’ll need an X-Ray and an MRI, but it’ll do for now,” Daria said as she extricated herself from Marcus and exited the vehicle.
“I’m here,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks.
Marcus collapsed against the bed of the Land Rover. His breathing was rapid but steady, and I felt his pounding heart slow when I laid a hand against his chest.
The snow chains rattled and clinked as Daria fixed them to the tyres. For a second, I considered helping her. But when Marcus reached out and gripped the hand I’d placed over his chest, I couldn’t leave him.
As Daria was finishing the last tyre he whispered hoarsely, “That went better than I expected.”
“What were you expecting?” I almost laughed. “For her to amputate?”
Marcus did laugh, but the sound was soon swallowed by another fit of coughing.
“I wasn’t talking about my leg,” he croaked after the fit subsided. “I meant the fight with Ninurta.”
The bemused smile fell from my face at the first Inconquo’s name. Images of the night flicked through my mind like a video recording. If this was his idea of cheering me up, it wasn’t working.
“What did you think was going to happen?”
“I thought we’d be dead, obviously.”
“Ah. Well, we’ve bought a little time.” I was unable to keep the bleakness out of my tone. “Nothing more.”
“Wasn’t that the point?” He chuckled dryly and cleared his throat. “Mission accomplished and we’re not dead.”
It was hard to argue with that logic. I smiled at him. His hand squeezed mine gently before sliding up to stroke my cheek. My skin was raw, but he was so gentle I felt nothing but a cool tingle at the caress.
Daria slid into the driver’s seat, turned on the vehicle and pulled us out of the garage. Leaving the engine to idle, she got out and closed the door before settling in behind the wheel again.
“We need to make good time,” she called as she revved the engine. “Sorry in advance for how rough this could get.”
I tore my eyes away from Marcus’s ashen face, blinking in the light. “You still have a lot of explaining to do.”
Daria didn’t look back, but I could feel the razor smile in her answer. “More than you know, luv, more than you know.”
15
The next twenty-four hours were a blur of planes, trains and automobiles. We landed in the south, in rain rather than snow, and had a chance to clean up before boarding a train to London. We sat across from one another at a table while Daria brought us up to speed, rain lashing at the windows as the train ate up the miles.
“Once Ninurta bent me to his service, I was forced to play the long game. Part of that meant cooperating with Winterthür when it was time for him to wake up.” Daria sighed and looked out the window at the green smudge of the countryside.
Marcus and I shared a look but neither of us responded. I thought I knew what he was wondering. Daria had saved us, but did that mean she could be trusted?
“I’m sorry it is all so cloak-and-dagger,” Daria went on, folding her hands on the table-top, “but please understand that I’ve never shared this with anyone.”
“Oh, yes,” I sniped. “It would be difficult to share that you’ve been working for a mass-murdering madman for thousands of years, and had to join an evil secret society to set him free.” My hard words were followed by a heavy silence before I added in a softer tone, “Jackie might never walk again because of how you played your long game.”
“You have every right to be angry.” Daria did not look away, accepting my anger and harsh words calmly, her voice full of regret. “I am not asking for forgiveness, no matter how much I would wish for it. I just want you to understand, to know what has happened, what is happening, and why.”
I looked out the window, working to move my ire about Jackie into the background so I could listen. Daria waited for me to give her permission to proceed, studying me intently while I watched the muddied countryside roll by. The dismal vista did nothing to improve my mood.
I took a deep breath as Marcus took my hand. “Go ahead. Tell us everything.”
Daria seemed to relax, letting her hands slip off the table and leaning back. “It would take me days to tell my story, and we don’t have that kind of time. What you need to know is this: Ninurta made me the keeper of his resting place, but I’ve never willingly served him. My phylactery was held hostage with him, and to get it back I needed to do my part.”
“That’s where I’m not clear,” Marcus interjected. “I’m new to all this, but if I understand how that phylactery thing works, wouldn’t it being with Ninurta, in his un-openable tomb, be a good thing for you? You’d never have to worry about anyone else finding it, and if Ninurta was sleeping he couldn’t use it against you. Win-win, right?”
Daria nodded but gave him the saddest smile I’d ever seen.
“Yes, if I had wanted to live this long. But even before I met Ninurta, I hated what I’d become. I didn’t, don’t, want to live forever. You can probably imagine how … uncomfortable these past few millennia have been.”
The confession cut through the layers of anger and disgust, even banishing the image of paralysed Jackie for a moment. Daria, a woman who’d saved my life multiple times and who I’d once counted a friend, wanted to die.
I looked at her, realising, not for the first time, that I barely understood this striking creature who’d crept into my life. Suspicion, empathy, and anger fought a three-way tug of war as I watched her wrestle to putting words to the burden she’d borne since before the great pyramids of Giza had been built.
“What about the attack on Museum Station?” I asked. “The attack that nearly destroyed Lowe, and left Jackie paralysed.”
“Herr Niemand found my phylactery when they opened Ninurta’s tomb. That was a possibility I hadn’t considered. The Group of Winterthür wanted Kezsarak’s cube back and held my phylactery hostage to ensure I would assist them to get it. I’m sorry about Jackie. That wasn’t part of my plan. I didn’t realise what Sark had done – I thought your group had the cube.”
“Then why are you helping us now?”
“I have retrieved my phylactery. Neither Ninurta nor the Group of Winterthür have any hold over me. I wish to fulfil my mission for Lamashtu: destroy Ninurta. Whatever the cost.”
“Why now?” I asked. “Why is this the time to end it all?”
“The short answer is you,” she said with a fractional shrug. “You are the first person I’ve met in my long, long life who stands a chance of defeating him.”
The answer hit me like a sled between the eyes. My cheeks burned as shame flooded me. “You’ve over-estimated me by f-”
“No.” Daria’s sharp word cut me off. “I haven’t.”
Her gaze burned into mine, glimmering with inhuman intensity. The weight of that look settled heavily over my shoulders, along with the weight of expectation.
“It wasn’t even a fight, Daria.” I shook my head, memories of the recent battle flashing through my mind. “He toyed with us.”
Marcus shifted and cleared his throat, looking down at me. “Not to be grotesquely optimistic, but after Ninurta pitched me like a ragdoll, I saw you do... something… to him. It looked like you were
pulling something out of him. Even with my bells rung, I could see that you were turning the tables. He was scared, Ibby.”
Daria’s eyes darted back and forth between us, widening. “What happened?”
The hope in her voice, so urgent and bright, made my gut feel full of ash.
“I tried to draw out the metal that’s within in him, that’s part of him,” I explained. “But even catching him off guard and using all the power in the rings, he still beat me down like I was an afterthought. I just wasn’t strong enough.”
For several heartbeats, no one spoke. The thrumming of the train and the occasional murmur of conversation from further up the compartment were the only sounds.
“No offence to Marcus,” Daria said, eyes still shining with hope, “but you faced Ninurta nearly on your own. We can change that. I can change that.”
I swung my gaze back to Daria, narrowing my eyes. “You didn’t seem to be so eager for a fight back in Northumberland.”
“You were spent and injured by the time I got there,” Daria replied. “I may want to die, but that doesn’t mean that I want to waste my death.”
We lapsed into silence as the countryside gave way to the suburban expanse that girdled London. I felt Daria waiting. Not waiting for me to forgive her, but waiting for some sign that I was willing to work with her again. Which meant I had to trust her, believe her story. I didn’t want to. My love for and allegiance to Jackie made me want to throw her offer back in her face and leave her as soon as we pulled into the train station. But though I hadn’t given her any indication yet, I did believe her. Marcus and I were alive thanks to her. Not only that, we needed an ally that did not rely on metal weapons in order to fight Ninurta.
I looked over at Marcus and in his look was a silent communication. He believed her story too and he was all for working with her.
Finally, I cleared my throat and Daria straightened at the sound, those dark and expectant eyes on mine.
“I guess you’ve got a plan?”
A sly smile spread across her face.
“I thought you’d never ask. You aren’t going to like it, but it is our best chance at saving the bloody world, so let’s not muck it up. Get me in front of Jody Marks. I’ll only lay it out once.”
16
At the train station in London, I left Daria and Marcus sitting on a bench while I found a pharmacy and bought Marcus a set of crutches. Then we used the tube to make our way to the TNC offices. We left Daria in a coffee shop while Marcus and I went to talk to Marks about her idea. The moment we stepped into the lobby of The Nakesh Corporation building, something felt wrong.
Everything had the same polished, nothing-to-see-here normalcy, but there was a brittle tension in the air.
“I know Daria is waiting for us, but shall we check on Uncle Iry and Jackie before we find Marks?” I asked Marcus as we crossed the lobby.
He nodded. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”
Anxiety wound its way around my spine like a climbing vine as I used my ID card to board the elevator. As we glided down floor after floor, I told myself the unease was only in my mind.
“Lobby was painted a different colour,” Marcus said. “Different panelling around the elevator.”
I looked up at him with surprise. “So you’re into interior decorating, along with weightlifting and dangerous women?”
Marcus snorted and shook his head. “Not so much, but while my dangerous woman was running around chasing bad guys, I was stuck in this building with nothing but time. People watching in the lobby was a distraction between push-ups and worrying.”
While I felt a pang of sympathy for the trials Marcus had endured, the changes to the lobby struck me as too timely to be coincidental.
“What do you think happened?”
Marcus tapped the ends of his crutches on the floor thoughtfully.
“Not sure. But there were four security officers in the lobby.”
“How many are there usually?” I asked.
“One.”
I let out a slow breath and fought the urge to use my powers increase the elevator’s speed. I needed to see Jackie and Uncle Iry. I needed to know they were okay. My heart had buggered off to rent a room in my throat and seemed determined to stay there for every agonising second it took to descend to the hospital floors.
When the doors finally parted, we found ourselves blocked by Bordeaux, armed and armoured for the battlefield. The sight of his openly carried combat rifle filled my stomach with ice.
“What’s happened? Where’s Jackie? Where’s my uncle?”
Bordeaux held up a hand, whether to calm me or slow me down, I wasn’t sure; but his usually robotic demeanour faltered.
“Ms Davies is in her room, just as you left her. She was unharmed by the attack, though I imagine the stress didn’t help her condition, but I’m no—”
Stone cold, brutally honest Bordeaux was stalling.
“And my uncle?” I cut him off mid-blather.
Bordeaux paled, his voice raw. “They took him.”
I staggered as the strength went out of my legs. Marcus put an arm around my waist to brace me as I wheezed, laying a hand against my chest. I felt as though my heart was being crushed in a vice.
“The Group of Winterthür took your uncle.”
---
The frustration, sorrow, and shame burning in Jackie’s eyes when I entered her room stole what little heart I had to speak.
I trudged over to her and plopped down in the seat next to her. Unshed tears brimmed in my eyes, but anger beyond expression simmered in my blood. My hands knotted into quivering fists and ground against the top of my thighs. I’d gone immediately to Marks’ office, spewing accusations, tears pouring down my face. She’d been insufferably calm while she’d explained how the building had been infiltrated. A trusted courier had died, their ID and delivery schedule taken. Recently hired security guards had been duped, the period of their probation giving Winterthür an opportunity to take advantage of a vulnerable moment. Marks had apologized. Told me TNC took every precaution but was not impervious. No intelligence agency was. All in all we should be thankful that the loss of life hadn’t been higher. She promised me we’d get my uncle back, but who was she to make such promises?
I felt Jackie’s eyes on me, knew she wanted to be helpful and encouraging, but she seemed to be having the same trouble I was. Impotent rage did anything but loosen the tongue.
By the time Jackie spoke, I was so lost in strangled thoughts that I started at the sound of her voice.
“They told you how it happened?”
I nodded as I stared into the middle distance, unable to bear looking her in the eyes.
“It happened so fast. Suddenly, they were in the halls searching rooms.” Jackie raked a hand through her hair. “I tried to get Iry to hide, to sneak out, to … to …”
Her voice broke, a rasping sob rocking her body and drawing my gaze at last.
“To do anything except watch over a bed-bound cripple.” She ground her teeth and beat her useless, blanket-swathed legs. “Damn it all, he wouldn’t leave me. He was trying to protect me!”
I reached out to take her hands as the fists became claws, raking at the blankets and her legs.
“Jackie!” Sweat beaded my forehead as I struggled to stop her. “Jackie, please!”
Her screeching shrivelled into a bitter whimper as she finally allowed me move her hands to her sides. The blankets were in disarray, leaving her exposed. Angry welts crisscrossed her thighs. I straightened the covers over her as I fought down more tears, then I bent over and hugged her.
“I’m sorry,” she moaned, her head falling against my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Ibby! I was useless; I am useless.”
Jackie’s final despairing declaration knocked out the last of my self-pity. Ninurta had beaten me, Iry was gone, and none of that changed the fact that she needed me. Soon, I feared a whole lot more people would need me.
“Jackie, stop.”
I took her face in my hands and looked at her, rubbing away a tear with the pad of my thumb. “You. Are. Not. Useless.”
Jackie’s face was blotched with red patches and wet from weeping. Though she couldn’t speak between hitching breaths, she gave a shake of denial.
“You are not useless,” I whispered, keeping her face turned towards me and my eyes locked on hers. “You are my best friend and the strongest woman I know, and I need you. I need your help.”
Jackie sniffled, her breathing catching at each inhalation, but her expression changed from broken surrender to bewilderment. “What?”
“I need you to help me fight Ninurta.” I released her face and sat on the side of her bed.
She blinked and brushed away another tear. “How the bloody hell do you expect me to do that?”
She gestured toward her limp legs in a quick angry sweep, that had me tensing to restrain her again.
“I need your mind, not your body.” I replied, drawing my feet up and perching my heels on the edge of the mattress. “I need your experience and knowledge more than I need your fists or feet.”
She studied my face. “What do you mean?”
I took her hand. “I need your way of thinking; your self-defence training. You told me that one of the things they drilled into you during your fighting classes is that you should assume your enemy is bigger, stronger, and more dangerous than you. Well, Ninurta is bigger, stronger than me, and so much more dangerous. I need to learn to take on someone like that.”
Jackie frowned, her eyes expressing a world of doubts.
“Just because I took self-defence doesn’t make me a soldier. I don’t know strategy.”
“That’s just it,” I pressed, “I’m not looking for a military perspective. I need a cage-fighting, go-down-swinging mindset. That’s what you can give me.”
And what I could give her was a distraction from her agony over Uncle Iry in the meantime.
Jackie’s frown deepened, but she swiped away the last of her tears.
