Behind me, I heard Val and Mina start shouting orders, and our forces began to split, the rear retreating and the van spreading to give the wizards passage. As Hel led the first of the newcomers toward us, I could see the tension on their faces—proximity to faeries was bad enough, but walking straight through a gauntlet of them was beyond a stupid idea for most wizards. Then again, we all knew the silo’s situation was desperate, and Magus Ehrler from Arcanum 3 gave me a curt nod as he led his people through our ranks.
I counted them off, one by one. Heinrich Ehrler I knew from his official portrait, a little man with close-cropped white curls and a gray-streaked Van Dyke. Behind his group came Gabriela Montes of Arcanum 6, who walked with a silver-tipped rosewood cane and wore her gray hair in long braids. Her hazel eyes, pale with age, peered at me distrustfully from behind her glasses. Next through were Stephen Bartow, who had thrown a well-worn slouch hat on as his concession to the weather, and Gowon Aminu, whose dark face was barely visible in the layers of scarves and hoods protecting him from the cold. Irina Durov spared a glare for Hel, tossed her hair, and refused to look at me. Last to fill out the hole in my forces was Margaret Jenner, who had selected a thick white Aran sweater and an incongruous pair of track pants for the occasion. She paused to give me a quick once-over, then murmured, “I sincerely hope that Helen’s trust hasn’t been misplaced,” before shepherding her people into the gap.
When the last of the Arcanum stragglers had joined us, our ranks closed again, sandwiching their masses between two smaller groups of faeries. “Well,” Hel muttered, looking back over the crowd, “everyone looks happy and not at all homicidal, but just in case, let’s get a move on.” She turned back toward the silo, shielded her eyes from the sun, and scowled. “They’re massing.”
“Good,” I said, then found Mina in the front line. “Hold back,” I told her, and flipped up my collar against the wind. “I’m going to see if she’ll come quietly.”
Mina’s dark eyes widened in incredulity. “You’re not going alone. We’ll pull a delegation from—”
“I need to do this solo.”
“My lord—”
“Please.”
Mina frowned, but she turned to look at the crowd behind us and seemed to realize what I was doing. Her shoulders tensed in frustration, but I could see that she was conflicted when she looked again at me. “It’s not weak to take backup,” she murmured. “In fact, under the circumstances—”
“They’re not going to follow me if they don’t think I can stand on my own,” I muttered. “I’m going. Just…do me a favor and have Georgie on standby, yeah?”
“Valerius isn’t going to like this,” she said, but she reluctantly stepped aside.
I walked back to Hel, who was waiting for a cue. “I’m going to try to end this before it gets messy,” I told her. “If things don’t work out, be ready.”
She began to protest, then tightened her lips and sighed. “I’ll go with you.”
“Not this time.”
“Aid…”
“She might talk to me,” I said. “She won’t do anything if she thinks it’s an ambush. Come on, you remember what happened the last time you and Moyna got into it.”
“I should have let her drown,” Hel muttered, then surprised me with a hug. I hugged her back, conscious of the eyes on us, and heard her whisper, “Damn it, don’t get killed.”
“Ditto,” I said, and we released each other. “Worst comes to worst, head to Alaska.”
But my sister shook her head. “The grand magus doesn’t run when the Arcanum’s on the line. Go, if you’re going,” she said, shooing me off. “It’s too cold for sentiment. I can’t feel my fingertips.”
I smirked and rubbed my gloves together. “Love you, too, Hel.”
And with that, I marched off to find Moyna.
I’ve never felt as alone as I did at that moment, walking away from our combined armies and straight for Moyna’s line. The road, at least, was relatively clear, meaning that the odds of slipping and making a spectacle of myself were low, but my stomach flopped, and I began to reconsider the amount of bacon I’d put down that morning. I could see Moyna’s people forming up ahead of me, tightening into a line with a thick bulge in the center, and I paused a quarter-mile away. Willing my voice to amplify, I drew upon the draining magic and yelled, “Moyna! Let’s talk about this!”
There was no response for a moment, and I was beginning to wonder if my enchantment hadn’t worked when I heard her yell back at me: “You dare, mongrel?”
“Nice to see you again, too. Come out here.”
I heard her laugh across the distance. “Or what? Your little Arcanum friends are going to attack?”
I paused, letting her stew, then said, “It’s over. Oberon’s dead. Coileán’s court is waiting behind me, and they’re not happy with you. Surrender now, and I can protect you. That’s my offer.”
“Liar!” she yelled, but I caught a note of hesitation in her voice.
I swept my arm back toward our ranks. “Look at them! Do those look like wizards to you?”
Moyna stepped free of the pack, and I saw a flash of gold as her hair flew around her face. “You expect me to believe that you’ve bested Oberon, dog?”
“The name’s Aiden,” I snapped, “and it’s amazing what steel can do.” I didn’t give her time to counter that before calling up the white corona, though I hoped she wouldn’t comment on how faint it was. “The realm backs our cause, Moyna. It’s over. Oberon was never going to give you a court, anyway. He was going to kill you as soon as it was convenient. Work with me, and we can avoid more death today. Come on,” I added, “how would I be here, with that court, if I wasn’t telling the truth?”
“That court is mine by right!” she shouted.
“Not while Coileán lives. And who are these idiots following you?” I continued. “Mab’s people? What claim do you have on them?”
“They found a new leader,” she retorted. “Since Coileán killed their queen—”
“The realm didn’t even recognize Mab!” I exclaimed. “Did no one tell them that? She had no claim on Faerie at the end! And even if she had, you’re not her blood—”
“Oh, yes,” Moyna snapped, “they should all follow Mab’s witch-blood daughter, shouldn’t they? You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Mongrels stick together, I suppose.”
“No, they shouldn’t follow Toula,” I said quietly, but my amplified voice still rang across the field. “She isn’t Mab’s eldest. There’s another with a much better claim than yours.”
“Then let her step forward!” she yelled, but the uncertainty in her voice was evident—as was the susurrus in the line behind her.
“Not at this time,” I said, then spread my hands. “If you won’t listen, then maybe your followers will.” I looked past her at her waiting army and raised my voice. “Surrender now. If you don’t, we’re going to kill you. Moyna’s no queen, and she can’t protect you. I’m no king,” I said as I fought to amp up my glow, “but right now, I’m a halfway decent substitute. Come forward, surrender, and you may live.”
No one took me up on the offer, but I could tell from the movement in the line that there was discussion in the ranks. After a moment, Moyna called out again. “And how do you think you’ll even wound us, dog? Look around you—what magic were you going to call on? Are you carrying steel enough to make your little wizards brave?”
I shrugged. “What magic? Well, as you seem to be exhausting our regular supply, I thought we might try dark.”
“Dark?” she scoffed. “You’ve recruited Nath as well?”
I turned and headed back toward our line, but not without a parting shot. “You never learned much about dragons, did you?” I said, then took the enchantment off my voice and pointed to Georgie. She immediately rose from the snow, screeching her joy at being airborne, and Joey raised his nail gun into position.
“Fire at will!” I yelled.
I could have sworn that Georgie smiled
before she opened her maw to spit forth a blast of flame. In an instant, the tents were on fire, as were some of Moyna’s troops, who screamed and dove for the snow. Georgie circled for a second pass, and Joey shot into the scattering crowd as she banked, peppering the line with nails even as the luckless faeries burned. With their major enchantments still sucking up the available magic, they barely had enough to shield themselves, let alone attack the dragon. A few managed to toss off fireballs, but Georgie was grace incarnate on the wing, and Joey rode like a champion.
Beside me, Toula folded her arms and whistled softly. “Go, Godzilla.”
I looked at her, then at Hel and Mina as the smell of roasting flesh began to waft our way. “Someone want to open a gate or ten?” I asked. “Mine are still kind of sub-par.”
“Got it,” said Toula, ripping open a new hole between the worlds. The influx of magic made my corona brighten, and Hel rolled her eyes.
“What?” I said.
“Show off,” my sister muttered. “Are we going in, or were you planning on wasting magic all day?”
I cut my brights, called up a fireball in each hand, and grinned. “Race you home. Toula, keep the gates coming.”
Hel broke into a sprint, and I followed at her heels with the van screaming behind us as we ran toward the inferno.
Moyna’s people might not have been as weary as the wizards that ran after us, but they were far from fresh when they joined us in battle, and they had precious little magic to call upon. We were able to draw from the river flowing behind us, plus the weapons our soldiers carried—not to mention Georgie, who continued to barbeque the heart of Moyna’s line.
Toula told me later that it took less than an hour to break them. I’ll have to trust her clock, because time had little meaning for me once I opened fire. I remember seeing Hel ahead of me with sparks dancing from her fingertips, and then I was throwing green fire in all directions, letting my anger at the last two months flow through me, and it felt so good.
I killed at least seven in that field. I can’t be sure of the actual total—to say I saw red and started shooting would be a gross understatement—but I’m positive that at least seven deaths were on my head. Mina claimed three, as did Hel, and Toula mostly busied herself with checking the charred for signs of life. Georgie was the true hero of the day, though, and after counting the corpses, Joey and I stood back and let her eat her fill. The wizards muttered, but they managed to pull their dead out before Georgie started eating, so as far as I was concerned, they had no reason to complain. They lost nine, mostly young men who had ventured too close to the fire and got caught in the conflagration. We lost five in total, but compared to the fatalities on the other side, we were the clear victors.
But though the siege was broken, we had no true cause for celebration. We inspected every corpse on the field, but no one was able to account for Moyna—or, Hel pointed out, for a few dozen of her followers.
“They must have run,” Mina fumed, glaring at the dead. “When the dragon attack began, they must have run like rats.”
“The gate-blocking enchantment didn’t extend this far,” Toula pointed out. “So, what next? She’s on the lam again—do we wait for her to surface, or do I do a little bloodwork now and track her down?”
I thought of Coileán, asleep back in Faerie. Getting a blood sample from him would be simple, and Toula could put it to work easily enough. If Moyna was still hiding in the mortal realm, we could find her, corner her…try not to get her killed…
And then what? If I took her alive and threw her in a cell until Coileán woke—and I took care to be sure that no one came after her for revenge—then he could deal with her as he liked…
But how long could he possibly sleep? Surely Coileán would wake soon, and when he did, he could hunt Moyna as he chose. I had enough blood on my hands that day—and besides, the far more important missing person was Oberon’s heir.
“Maybe later,” I told Toula. “I’ve got another blood sample for you to work on first.”
She looked at me askance but shrugged her assent, and I sighed as I considered the muddy field. I almost jumped when Val’s hand landed on my shoulder, but when I turned, expecting chastisement, he gave me a little smile instead. “You’re probably saving her life,” he murmured.
“I thought so,” I mumbled. “If Coileán wants her dead…I don’t want to be the one, you know? She…”
When I couldn’t find the words, he offered, “She has a point?” I gave him no reply, and he cocked his head. “Trying to have her revenge against her mother’s killers. She’s not entirely wrong.”
“You said it, not me.”
His smile widened for an instant before he sobered. “Titania did some terrible things in her time. All three of them did. So has Coileán. So may you,” he added, pointing to the nearest clump of bodies. He paused, studying me closely, then said, “You’re not wrong to try to understand her, Aiden. You’re not wrong to give her a chance. Coileán…I can’t say what he would do now, were he here, but I can’t imagine that he would be angry with your choice. He could have sought her out months ago,” Val continued, lowering his voice. “Do you think he wants to destroy his own child?”
“Which is why I’m going after the heir to Oberon’s court. Someone got the blood sample I asked for, right?” I asked, feeling a momentary flash of panic.
“As requested.” Val squeezed my shoulder and released me. “And thank you.”
“For what?”
He smiled again. “As I told you, I don’t want a court. Certainly not that one.” He looked aside at a flash of movement, then pointed to the trailer park. “Ah. Company. I was wondering when they might crawl out of their hole.”
I followed his finger and saw not they, but only one man: the grand magus, walking alone through the churned snow and muck. He hesitated at the entrance of the trailer park, leaning on the rusted mailbox as he surveyed the scene before him. After a moment of silent contemplation, he began to trudge across the field toward us, limping along on arthritic knees as his overcoat flapped around his boots.
“Hold back,” Val called to our army, who stopped where they were and waited as the order was passed through the lines.
I noticed a few fires begin to spark in the crowd, but I kept my attention on the grand magus as he made his slow march through the dead. Finally, when he was close enough for his face to resolve into more than a dark blur, he paused and cleared his throat. “You know,” he said, speaking to no one in particular, “I’ve had this nightmare a few times. But heretofore, I’ve always managed to wake up and find that there isn’t, in fact, an army of faeries outside my front door. This time’s going to be different, isn’t it?” He craned his neck to look up at Georgie, who still had a leg dangling out of her mouth like a toothpick, then shook his head and shuddered. “Quite a bit different.”
Hel and I looked at each other, and she stepped forward to meet him. “Grand Magus. Is everyone all right?”
“Well, that all depends on the next few minutes, I suppose.” He surveyed the silent throng gathered in the field, then turned to me and nodded. “I take it these folks are with you, son.”
I heard Toula muttering to my left and realized she was translating for Val and Mina. “They are.”
“Found your brother, I trust?”
“He’s recovering. Oberon isn’t.”
“Ah,” the grand magus murmured. “That’s…not the worst possible outcome, I suppose.”
“And that’s rather non-committal,” Toula interjected.
He gave her a look, then pointedly cut his eyes to the mass of wizards standing to the side. She smirked, and he said, “I’ll have a fuller statement at a later time, assuming the Council doesn’t fire me again.”
“They won’t.”
We turned as Magus Montes pushed through the crowd, using her cane to knock legs aside as required. “The rest of the Council has come,” she continued. “There will not be another dismissal without a full vote, and
I assure you, Greg, that we have been listening to the messages from the silo.”
The grand magus bowed stiffly to her. “Gabriela.”
“You tell the upstarts in that hole that we are also Council,” she said as the rest of the magi joined her, “and our voices will be heard.”
The others nodded, and the grand magus looked momentarily relieved before he turned his attention back to me. “So…Lord Aiden.”
“Actually,” said Toula, “it’s ‘Lord Regent’ for the time being. Just so you know. I’m translating as well as I can,” she added, pointing to her waiting listeners, “and if there’s any perceived slight, you know what could happen.”
To his credit, the grand magus’s poker face didn’t crack. “Of course. What are your terms…my lord?”
“Terms?” I asked, suddenly cognizant of the weight of the eyes on me. “Terms for—”
“Leaving in peace,” he prompted.
“Right. That. Uh…” I glanced at Val, whose eyes were focused on Toula, then back at the grand magus. “Our fight isn’t with you,” I told him. “But before I go, I want some guarantees.”
“Such as?”
“Like, I’m not going to walk away and find out tomorrow that there are warrants on Hel and Toula again.”
“Aid,” my sister muttered, “I can handle this.”
“I know,” I said, keeping my eyes on the grand magus. “But you’ve fought an awful lot of my battles for me. It’s about time I returned the favor, yeah?”
“That was different,” she protested.
“Tally up the number of broken bones you prevented, and you’ll see that I owe you a lot more than this. So, Grand Magus,” I continued as Hel huffed her displeasure, “about those warrants.”
“If I may interrupt,” said Magus Jenner, “I can assure you, young man, that there will be no further proceedings against Magus Carver.” She pushed her glasses down her nose and stared at the grand magus, who backed away with his palms raised in placation.
Witch-Blood Page 34
