by Tiger Gray
"I suppose that makes sense if you're feeling quite literal," Ashrinn said, "but the biggest area of that watershed is in Idaho. Why not base themselves there, if they're tied to the water?"
Mal flushed to the roots of his hair. Ashrinn turned to look at him, knowing he wasn't going to like whatever was coming.
"You're not the only one that's got a tie to the Cult, Ashrinn." Mal mumbled. "Turns out we're related, me and Gilly. Her and Liu."
"What?" Ashrinn didn't realize he'd gotten to his feet until his chair fell backward, startling him so that he pressed his hand to his heart in an effort to calm it. Mal gave him that abashed look, the one he could have easily have found on a scolded dog's muzzle.
"Yeah. Figured it when I went to go check out the school."
"You absolute bastard," Ashrinn said before he could think of something better to say. All he could see was the scene from earlier, Mal forcing him to reveal things about Kir, and now this. Malkai put his hands up as if to defend himself from a physical blow. Randolph was --- probably wisely --- staying silent, but his stony disapproval was all too easily felt. It was directed at Mal this time and that gave Ashrinn another surge of righteous anger. "If you were still on my team I'd have you in front of a fucking court martial." He degenerated into a stream of angry Farsi and didn't give a good goddamn if Mal could keep up with it. He was sure Mal got the point.
Randolph had cold fire in his eyes. He spoke on the tail end of Ashrinn losing steam and falling silent, sucking in enraged breaths. "I'm disappointed in you, Malkai."
Ashrinn had never seen Mal's expression crumble like that. Even his tirade hadn't done it. He felt a pang of sympathy but he clung to his anger and the temporary vigor it gave him. Mal shrunk in on himself, and even though he was six-four, he managed to look all of ten years old.
"Yessir," Mal mumbled. By the tight line of his jaw he wanted to speak, but his hatred of making excuses was keeping him quiet.
"So that's why they're in Washington," Randolph continued. "Because of Liusidris."
Ashrinn's emotions punched him hard in the solar plexus and he barely managed to right his chair before thumping into it. He knew why Malkai hadn't told them. The same reason he hadn't wanted to speak about Kir. The truth was too painful.
He wanted to lash out, tell Malkai that his only son had gone to the enemy because of his worthless cunt of a daughter, but he held his tone for more reasons than one. It wasn't fair and it wouldn't solve anything. Even as he hated Liusidris, he felt sorry for her and couldn't bring himself to curse her out loud.
"I reckon," Malkai said in the smallest voice Ashrinn had ever heard him use. "She's supposed to be the bride, right?"
Randolph seemed to have reached the same conclusion as Ashrinn because the man sat down once more himself, and for once he looked dwarfed by his desk, as if the topic had reduced him somehow. Maybe it was just that, on the eve of a pitched battle, neither he nor Randolph could manage enough vitriol to tear into one of their own.
No matter how much he deserves it.
"Look," Malkai said, "it's nothing we didn't already know. It just kind of puts the cap on it. Didn't want the kids to know, or Mamma to find out. Just didn't figure it mattered in the end."
"Speaking of family ties," Randolph said, albeit hesitantly, "what is the likelihood of Kiriana working for them still?"
Ashrinn ground his back teeth so hard he swore he could taste dust. "Doubtful," he managed, though it was quite difficult to get a breath in all of a sudden. "I rather think she didn't mean for them to take Coren. If I'm honest, I think she's been behind everything. The attack on Malkai, Rosi's nightmares, Liu's disappearance."
"She wouldn't have been able to get past Raietha's shields to get at me directly," Mal said, "Makes sense she'd go after us when we're on our own, like we were back when I first went to the astral."
Ashrinn tried not to wring his hands. He could see it now, so clearly that it shamed him to think that at one time he had been so blind. He knew why because he knew Kir, whether he wanted to or not. She was jealous of everyone who took his attention and she was not above tormenting and killing all his loved ones, his Order mates, even Malkai's children to get every scrap of his regard for herself. He supposed she had only agreed to move in next to Malkai in the first place because she hadn't been able to conceive of him disobeying, even with his best friend's influence.
"Still," Ashrinn made himself say, "it's possible she's summoned demons and the like before now, to help them. Lesser servants of their God, maybe."
With his blood and the power inherent in it. The thought made the floor tip and the room spin. He was sure he would be sick, but Mal reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. As aggravated as he was at Mal, something about his presence tended to smooth him out, ease his bad feelings. His chest loosened and he took a deep breath.
"You realize you're staying behind, Ashrinn."
Randolph might as well have slapped him.
"What? They have my only child, Randolph! You can't do this to me."
"I can and I will," Randolph said, though he had the grace to look unhappy about it. "If they get their hands on you, we're doomed. There's no way we have the power to shut the gate on a demon that powerful if its path to this world is opened."
Ashrinn searched for something, anything to counteract that argument and for what felt like forever he had nothing. "What if I'm the only one who can seal it?" Malkai and Randolph both looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "It's my blood that called it, isn't it?" he said, aware in a distant way that he sounded at least mildly insane. "Neither of you has ever done anything like this, correct? How would you know?"
"You're asking me to stake the future of the Protectorate and perhaps the entire country on conjecture," Randolph said. Ashrinn could see the uncertainty in Randolph's expression, though, and he knew that he was trying to calculate their chances without Ashrinn and his strike team.
"We're already doing that," Ashrinn said, and he felt a tingle of energy like what he'd perceived in his dream. He didn't remember everything about the time he'd spent there, of course, but he did remember the white doe and the rainbow magic that had flowed from her hooves as she bounded through charred wasteland and verdant field alike. She had spoken to him, told him something of vital importance. What it was he couldn't consciously decipher now, but the thrill he felt told him he was on the right path. He rose to his feet and planted his palms on Randolph's desk, leaning in. "You can't put me out to pasture, Randolph. Not now."
Randolph stared back at him, speechless. Finally, Randolph said, "If our best mages and scholars say it's possible that what you say is true, then I will consider it. I have to admit that I don't know how to close whatever gateway they may have created. Nor have I ever seen a demon this powerful. Now sit down."
Ashrinn did as he was told, dazed in the wake of all the energy he'd just spent making his point.
"One of our best choices is to collapse their tunnels," Randolph continued. "When we have a point of entry I'll let you know more, but a responsibility like that has to fall on you and your team, if I'm convinced you should go at all."
Ashrinn knew Randolph was telling him it was a suicide mission. The Cult might have motivations that put them at a strategic disadvantage from time to time, but mostly their zealotry aided them. It meant they were willing to spend themselves and do things the Order wouldn't and it made them damn hard to predict.
"I can certainly put together something with enough explosive punch to do that," Ashrinn said, "Daniel might be able to do it solely with his powers, though considering his injuries I'd rather we had a backup plan."
"We're going to have to draw the majority of them out of their tunnel," Randolph said, "find their warren and march on it. Distract them enough that you and the Storm can get in."
Ashrinn noticed Randolph didn't mention getting out again. The knowledge that he most of all would have to have some kind of suicide measure dawned on him. He glanced at Ma
lkai. A few weeks ago he would have had an easier time agreeing. His wife was a traitor and had come close to killing him herself. Coren was gone. He didn't have much to lose.
Except friends. Except his lover.
"I'll do it," Ashrinn said, ignoring the stricken look on Malkai's face.
* * *
"Mal?" Ashrinn sounded hesitant in that way he usually did these days, like he didn't know quite where he stood. Malkai turned towards him, thinking how this was a lot different from the last time Ashrinn had come to visit him in the garage. "You said you wanted to see me?"
Ashrinn set something down by the door and walked in. Mal could barely contain himself, thinking about Ashrinn's reaction to what he had to show. Ashrinn gave the car a confused look, probably noticing that it was covered in its drop cloth again.
Mal broke into a broad grin. He wanted to hide his excitement but just couldn't, and focusing on this was a lot better than thinking about the upcoming fight. He beckoned Ashrinn over and put an arm around Ashrinn's shoulder.
"Got a present for you. Go on. Take the cloth off."
Ashrinn did as told. It was good to feel muscle tone in Ashrinn's body again, Mal thought. The Mustang had a gleam even in the relative darkness of the garage, its pristine white and navy paint job nothing to scoff at. Ashrinn's eyes damn near bulged out of his face and Mal felt real smug for a minute.
"Mal...!"
"Isn't it great?" Mal said, letting Ashrinn go so he could walk around the vehicle they'd spent so long restoring. Mal felt like a little kid, except if he'd had a childhood where he'd been allowed to be excited about stuff.
"It's perfect," Ashrinn said, pausing with his hand on the hood, gazing at the big white racing stripes down the front.
"Yeah, well. Figured what with the big battle coming up and all." Mal said, awkward all of a sudden what with the touched look Ashrinn was giving him. "You know. That you might like it. And that we could take it out. You know. Never have done that before."
"That makes my present particularly relevant," Ashrinn told him, turning to fetch whatever it was he'd set down by the door. It turned out to be a gas can.
"You didn't," Mal said, aware he was grinning like an idiot but not caring to stop.
"I did," Ashrinn uncapped the can so the sugary smell of biofuel wafted through the space. "Took quite a bit of barter and volunteer work."
Mal's heart fluttered, realizing Ashrinn had done all that for him.
"So do I get to drive?" Ashrinn said.
"No way. You speed." Mal could all too easily remember how Ashrinn had liked to drive their Humvee, to say nothing of the times they'd had to steal civilian vehicles to get out of a tight spot.
"Oh come on," Ashrinn said, waving his hands. "As if there's anything better to do in the desert."
"The stuff you did to that vehicle was pushing it."
Ashrinn smirked. "That's why you weren't the leader, Mal. Too regimented."
Malkai enjoyed the back and forth with Ashrinn. It made the final battle seem farther away than it really was, kept him from thinking too hard about the possible death toll and how his sons were going to be part of the White Eagle forces.
He'd damn near talked himself into walking away from Ashrinn again, before this, not wanting to make it all that much worse if Ashrinn died. He didn't think he could handle what they'd done, either, and he thought maybe it would have been better to ignore it. If he'd hated it... well, that would have been easier to accept.
But I loved it. Want to do it again. And now with the fight...
Mal let Ashrinn go. He meant to back away but he gave Ashrinn a kiss instead. He could feel Ashrinn's surprise, but then he relaxed into it. When they parted Ashrinn had a pretty blush to his face.
"Oh. What was that for?"
"Uh. Thanks for the present?"
Ashrinn chuckled. "Setting the bar high for how I am to show my gratitude."
"Don't get started or we'll never get to drive this thing." Mal got in the car and Ashrinn followed. Mal started to put the keys in the ignition when Ashrinn stopped him.
"We're not doing this without music, are we? This is a serious decision. Maiden voyage and all that."
Malkai huffed. "None of that New Wave crap, Ashrinn. I mean it."
"Says the man who wants to play Journey." Dammit. There were definite disadvantages to knowing someone for as long as they had known each other.
"Hey, Journey is just plain good music. Come on, at least give me Boston."
Ashrinn pretended to be put out, but Mal knew he'd won. Once they got out on the street, though, he wished maybe he hadn't pushed for such upbeat music, with everything around them in ruins. The sight of barricades and warding spells couldn't kill his excitement, but it made the song eerie. He couldn't help but think how he couldn't just turn on the radio anymore and hear whatever he wanted. And once his MP3 player died? What then?
He tried to put it out of his mind as much as he could, for now. He knew that after tonight everything would be decided --- and maybe I won't see him again --- but he wouldn't let himself think that for more than a second.
The engine rumbled like a sleeping leopard while they made their way through the residential streets, but when they hit open road he punched the gas and it woke up and roared. He didn't decide to take them to West Seattle, not on purpose, but when he realized they were rocketing towards the Bridge he just went with it.
Mal cleared 120 mph and Ashrinn sucked in a breath. For a moment he tensed up, like most people would, but then he relaxed against his seat belt. The only sign that he felt it like a normal guy was the way he was digging his fingertips into his knees. Something about it made Mal pour it on even more, until they topped out at about one-forty. They went over the bridge like a bullet and despite all Mal's talk about Ashrinn being the crazy driver, he hit the turn perfectly and shot down through the neighborhood.
It was all wasteland here now, restaurants and coffee shops and dry cleaners closed and wrecked all down Fauntleroy. Someone had started a body burning fire here. Soot still stained the pavement and darkened the sky. When bodies burned, they made a kind of grey ash that nothing else did. Mal whipped the car around in a wide arc and a pair of constructs lifted their misshapen heads from where they were rooting around in garbage, a knocked-over dumpster spilling rot into the street.
Dogs, Malkai thought, once. Ashrinn jammed his elbow against the door, trying to brace himself. The turn had forced the car back down to a more reasonable speed, but only in comparison to what he'd been doing when they'd come down this way. One of the constructs flattened its ears to its head and took off running. Before Mal realized what he was doing, he speed off after it, angry enough out of nowhere that he was fixing to kill it.
The impact made him feel like all his teeth were going to rattle right out of his head. What was left of the construct's warm corpse went up over the windshield, taking the driver's side mirror with it, and Mal saw Ashrinn put his hands up as if to defend himself. He brought the car to a stop, and found his hands damn near stuck to the steering wheel, he was holding on so hard.
Mal felt anger still, and shame at what he had done, the control he'd lost, but underneath everything it had felt good to splatter that good-for-nothing abomination. Just... maybe too good.
"Mal." He half expected Ashrinn to holler at him, tear him apart for damaging their car on its first ride. Instead Ashrinn peeled his hands off the steering wheel, as patient as if he was dealing with a little kid.
"Let me drive," Ashrinn said, and even though his tone didn't have any fire in it Mal knew steel when he heard it. Even if it had velvet over it, like it often did with Ashrinn. He nodded and got out, crossing around in front so he could avoid the thing's body. Ashrinn slipped into the driver's seat. Mal took the passenger's seat and cinched his seatbelt across his chest. He didn't know what to say. He felt exposed and kind of sick.
He didn't ask where Ashrinn was taking them, just watched the scenery go by his window wit
hout really seeing anything. He still felt the kind of tension that he associated with fighting. That was the thing. Shedding blood didn't sate him. It just made him want to do more of it.
Only when dryad magic started to sit heavy and perfumed on his tongue did he realize where they were going.
"The Arboretum?" he asked. He shouldn't be surprised, he thought, given how much Ashrinn liked plants. Maybe Ash thought it would calm him down, too, to be around all that nature.
"I figured it couldn't hurt."
He let the silence stretch between them for a long minute. Dryads who had decided to interact with the human world were rare, but all the ones the Order had, had set up shop here. It made the taste of this place complicated as hell, like a really good wine --- not that he'd admit to Ashrinn that he knew a damn thing about good wine.
Ashrinn parked the car at the gate. They'd passed so many signs of war. The burnt out houses, the abandoned shops, the scars on the pavement from fires and fighting and death. Yet here, there were still neat parking spaces, like the lines had just been freshly painted. White Eagle guards in smart uniforms holding AK-47s stood around, a show of strength so the enemy would think twice about trying to take this place. With so many people starving, this haven of growth was very high on people's priority lists.
He could feel and see the magic now as well as taste it, when he focused anyway, a sign that it was very powerful. Dryads needed a special kind of garden to power themselves, and they'd all started growing them here. He'd thought the Arboretum was pretty damn impressive when it had just been the result of human effort. Now it was so beautiful and complex it was almost too much to take in, plants and trees he couldn't put a name to coming up next to Japanese maple and white birch.
