I risked raising my head a fraction and opening my eyes in a squint against the ripping wind to see streams of fire shooting across the sky.
Draconi … We were no longer alone. The beat of mighty wings and the rumble of flame cut through the air, and up ahead was a mountain. The red rock face, perilous to look at, was dotted with dark apertures. Spots in the wall began to open and then blue power was shooting out to join the flames.
Arcletic blasts? This had to be the Keep.
Lyrian gained altitude, avoiding a blast of the blue energy to climb the air, higher and higher until my head was dizzy and my lungs were gasping. The altitude … It was too … too …
My grip slipped, the world grew dark, and then I was falling. Somewhere in the distance, someone screamed, and then I was surging into consciousness in time to see the stars shooting away, in time to feel the wind buffeting my back as it fought the gravity that was pulling me down.
A roar ripped the air, and then an obsidian shape was hurtling toward me. Lyrian. He was going too fast. He was—
He pulled up at the last moment, using his huge wings to propel him into a horizontal position, and snatched me from my death fall with his talons. They curled around me, rough and dangerous, and then we were rising again. I held on with trembling hands and a stomach that was still in freefall. And then he let go. My body flew in an arch and hit the ground, tumbling into darkness.
Shit, what the heck. I rolled to my feet. A cave? I was in a cave in the mountain. Lyrian flew in after me, but his body shimmered, and he was a man before he hit the ground.
“I told you I didn’t dive for anyone,” he snapped. “You just had to test me, didn’t you?” His face was in shadow, but his ice eyes glowed eerily in the gloom.
Wait, he was pissed at me for falling?
“What did you expect at that altitude? I don’t have dragon lungs like you.”
“Lyrian? What the hell is happening?” a female voice said from behind me.
I turned to find Wilomena Bastian standing at the back of the cave. She was accompanied by a tall, broad man with glowing eyes the same color as Lyrian’s.
“We’re under attack,” Lyrian said. “I’ll explain once we’ve beaten them back.”
“Valance?” Wilomena looked up at the man.
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be back.”
And then he was jogging to the front of the cave to join Lyrian. The world shimmered, and then two dragons were shooting out into the night.
“Come,” Wilomena said. “We can wait for them downstairs.” She walked up to me and put her arm around my shoulder. “You’re safe now.”
Yes, I might be safe, but what about the others? “The harvest team is under attack. I have to go back. I was supposed to recharge and go back.” Panic squeezed my throat. “They were after me. Genesis did this … He did this to drain me. He knew I’d have to go back and—”
“He wanted to find the Hive and take you down in the process,” she finished calmly.
Her soothing tone took the crazy edge off my alarm. “Yes. There has to be a way to get me to the Hive.”
She gripped both my shoulders and locked gazes with me. “Not right now, there isn’t. Not without giving Genesis what he wants. You get that, right?”
Oh, God. “I can’t just do nothing.”
Her expression softened. “I get it. Trust me, I do. But right now, all you can do is sit tight. You made it here, you’re safe. You’re alive, and that means Genesis failed.”
“The others—”
“Will fend for themselves.” A shadow of doubt flitted across her vision, but she masked it quickly. “Come. We’ll go wait for further development in the throne room.”
I allowed her to lead me away from the mouth of the cave, but my heart … My heart was still out there on the field.
Chapter 11
The Keep was a network of carefully hewn tunnels that crisscrossed and descended into the mountain. There was very little lighting because I guessed Draconi didn’t really need that much light. But Wilomena led me with a touch to the elbow or a hand to the small of my back.
“I hear you have young siblings,” she said.
“Um, yes. A sister and a brother.”
“It must have been hard after your mother died.”
How much did she know about me? Had Harker been speaking to her about me? I guessed being the only guardian made you newsworthy.
But I wasn’t the only one who’d suffered. “There were a lot of people who lost someone that day, and everyone banded together to help each other. Bry and Gem are safe, and that’s all I can hope for.”
“Yes. That is the key in our world. Protecting those we love.” We took another corner and came to a door. “I’m lucky to still have most of my children, although I worry about my daughter. She prefers to roam topside alone.” She pushed open the door, and we were in a plastered corridor with regular lighting and even a carpet.
The door closed behind us, shutting out the reality of our location.
“Well, this is …”
She chuckled. “I know. It took me a while to get used to the incongruity of the Keep, but it works well for our purposes. The illusion of a home in the center and a fortress on the outside. Genesis hasn’t succeeded in breaching us yet.” She glanced at me with a small smile. “You know we considered building the Hive here at one time, but so many supernaturals under the same roof would have been a recipe for disaster, not to mention that most Draconi consider humans to be food.”
She took a left, and then we were at a set of double doors. She pushed them open and ushered me through. “Here we are.”
The throne room was more of a battle room than anything else. Tables lining the walls were piled high with weapons of all descriptions. The throne itself was covered in metallic parts, and several men were busy building something. The ceiling was high and made of smooth rock, and it hit me that Wilomena had succeeded in calming me down by distracting me with chit-chat. Now my attention was drawn to all the machines, and my mind itched to know what they were and how they worked.
“What is all this?”
“War machines,” she said absently. “Traps and gizmos to keep the scuttlers at bay. We plant them all over. We may not have guardians, but there are other ways to slow the fuckers down.”
“You have arcletic power.” I canted my head. “A generator?”
She nodded. “Yes, we have a generator. It’s small but powerful, and the Hive top it up twice a year. We don’t have to use it often. Maybe once a month when the aerial scouts come sniffing. We always keep a troop of Draconi at base in case of events like this. The drones will back off soon. They always do.” She pulled a couple of chairs out from under a table. “Sit. Tell me exactly what happened out there.”
I tugged off my staff harness and laid it and the staff on the table before taking a seat.
Where to start? “Everything was going really well. We’d taken the first half of the harvest back to the Hive, and Micha and I were watching the stars and—”
“Micha and you?” Her gaze was scrutinizing now.
My face was suddenly hot. “Yes, we’re … friends. We saw the drones headed our way.” I filled her in on the attack, the wave upon wave of scouts, and how I’d been forced to leave.
“And the others? They were right behind you?”
I shook my head. “No, Micha said they had a plan. They’re going to use the EMP machine.”
Her face drained of color, and she sat back in her chair with a thud.
My scalp prickled. “What is it?”
Her hand was on her chest. She shook her head. “There is no EMP, not at the moment. The Hive have never used it, so when we needed certain parts for several of our projects, I authorized my team to dismantle the device and take what we needed. I was going to put the parts back once we’d sourced more, but …”
Terror dug its claws into my heart. “You dismantled it? There’s no … no EMP machine?”
/> She’d already said that, but maybe if I repeated back what she’d said she’d laugh and say, no, silly, you misheard me. But she didn’t, she just stared at me with dread and resignation in her eyes, and no, she didn’t get to look like that because that would mean that they were out there with nothing to save them. They were out there … Oh, God.
Wilomena’s face smoothed out. “We’ll do a sweep once the drones are gone.”
A sweep … “You’re not talking about a rescue mission, are you? You’re expecting them to be … to be dead.”
“I’m sorry, Echo. There’s nothing we can do for them now.”
Micha’s face filled my mind, the sensation of his lips on mine, his hand in mine, his body wrapped around mine in sleep. My heart twisted and ached, and then I couldn’t breathe.
“Echo …” Wilomena reached for me, but I waved her away.
“Your son is out there.” My voice was choked. “Micha is out there, and Deacon and so many others.”
“Wilomena!” A large dark-haired man came barreling into the room. “It’s Micha.”
Micha? I was on my feet in an instant. “What happened to him? Where is he?”
The man frowned at me, his ember eyes so like Micha’s clouded with confusion as if he wasn’t sure why the heck I was there and why I was addressing him. “And who is this?”
“She’s the guardian,” Wilomena said. “Azren, what about Micha?”
“Bastion just brought him in.” Azren’s throat bobbed, and he shook his head. “He’s in the med bay.”
His words were innocuous enough, med bay, but it was the look on his face that sucked the air from the room, and my next words were little more than a desperate gasp. “Please, I have to see him. Please.”
Azren looked to Wilomena with the same what-the-fuck look.
She slipped her hand into mine. “Come.”
And then we were running.
The charred form lying on the bed looked nothing like the vibrant man I’d come to care for. His wings were out and trapped behind him; one was locked at an angle beneath his back, and the other was torn and bloody. His chest rose and fell erratically.
A slender man leaned over the bed with Micha’s wrist in his hand as he took his pulse.
“It’s weak,” he said. “The damage to his wings is extensive, and he’s not healing. I’m sorry. There’s nothing we can do.” His tone was heavy with the burden of bad news.
“Micha?” Wilomena fell to her knees beside her son’s bed, and Azren placed a hand on her shoulder. She bowed her head. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“We weren’t to know,” Azren said.
“This is my fault. I should have told him. If he’d known, he would have made a different call. You know Micha, he always makes the right call if he has the right information.”
“Stop,” Azren said softly, but there was a catch to his voice. A thickness that spoke of held back emotion.
“At least … At least he doesn’t feel any pain,” Wilomena said.
Azren’s jaw flexed. “Wila, he was screaming in pain when they brought him in, and then he passed out.”
“What?” She looked up at him in shock. “How is that possible?”
Azren tucked in his chin and then slowly turned his head to look at me. “I wasn’t sure myself, but now I think I have an idea.”
Wilomena followed his gaze, and then her hand went to her mouth. “You think …? This is so fucking unfair.”
“What is it?” I took a step forward, desperate to get to Micha but aware that these were his parents, and they had more right to him than me. I was nothing to Micha, just a friend, nothing more, and yet every inch of me ached to be beside him right now. “Please …” The plea was out before I could stop it. “There has to be something you can do? Can’t we bandage up his wings? There has to be something we can use to heal him?”
The slender man looked to Wilomena as if asking for permission. She turned to me, her eyes wet with tears.
“Micha’s wings are connected to his vitals,” she said. “We’ve always known that severe damage to his wings could be fatal. He’s always been careful—flying while cloaked, keeping his wings hidden. They’re an essential part of him, and now …” She pressed her lips together and turned back to her son. “How long?”
The slender man’s eyes were dark with sorrow. “Hours, maybe less.”
Lyrian burst into the room, bringing the scent of cinder and ash with him. His shirt was torn, his dark hair in disarray. He came to a staggering stop, and his gaze fell on his brother. He faltered, and for a moment, I was sure he was going to sink to the ground beside his mother, but he caught himself and straightened.
“The others are here,” he said. “Deacon says that Micha acted as a diversion both on the ground and in the air. He kept the scuttlers busy and then diverted the drones. Bastion had a bad feeling and followed, taking a higher altitude. He caught Micha when he was hit and brought him in via the razor route because it was quicker.” He walked over to the bed and looked down at his brother. “You fought valiantly today, brother. Rest well. May we meet beyond the ether.”
He strode from the room.
Wilomena and Azren exchanged glances, and then she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Micha’s forehead. Azren went next, pressing his forehead to his son’s, lips moving in what could be a prayer.
He straightened slowly. “Rest well, my son. May we meet beyond the ether.”
Wilomena reached for Azren’s hand, and together they headed for the door.
I grabbed Wilomena’s arm to halt her progress. “That’s it?”
Her smile was watery. “There is nothing more to be done. There are others who can still benefit from our help.” She took a shuddering breath and then strode out of the room.
They were giving up? A strange numbness opened inside me.
“Don’t judge them too harshly,” the slender man said. “This war has gone on for too long, and they’ve lost too many loved ones. They’ve learned to accept death. They’ve learned to focus on the living and what can be done for them, because they know that death isn’t the end. That if the soul is permitted to move on, then they will meet beyond the ether.”
Panic punched me in the gut. “His soul? You need an orb or Genesis will have it.”
“No. We aren’t of your world, and our souls are tethered to a place beyond the ether by a power that is out of reach to Genesis.” He sighed. “Micha is simply going to be leaving his mortal shell behind and starting another journey. Death is not the end.”
I’d lost my father, my mother, and my best friend, but I was nowhere near able to accept death. No. I wanted to rage against the injustice of it. I wasn’t ready to let him go to this ether place or whatever it was.
“I’ll give you a moment.” The slender man smiled kindly and then left the room.
Micha … I walked closer and then fell to my knees by his bed. He looked so peaceful. Like he was about to open his eyes at any moment. Like any moment now he’d grin and ask me if I was checking him out? Then he’d ask me if I wanted to snuggle. And then… A sob clogged my throat, and my eyes grew hot. My vision blurred as I moved off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed by his hip. His chest rose and fell harder as if struggling to draw oxygen.
He was dying.
Something inside me broke, and then my body was shaking with sobs because I was being torn in two. How could I have not seen? How could I have not realized how much he meant to me? He’d blown into my life like a fresh breeze and settled around me like a comfy blanket. It was like he’d always been a part of my life, like I’d been waiting for him to show up, and I wasn’t ready to lose him. I would never be ready to lose him.
“Micha, please … Please, don’t go.”
But he was slipping away, taking the color in the world with him. He took a shuddering breath and then stopped.
Just stopped. My pulse skipped and then began to hammer. No. No. Please, no.
Fight.
That voice in my head again, ordering the arcana inside me to rise. My chest heated, and the heat trickled through my limbs, and the words that had been slowly brewing inside, words that would have found their way to my lips in due course, spilled out now.
“I love you, Micha. I love you. Please, come back. Fight to come back, please don’t leave me.” I leaned in and kissed him through my tears. Breathing him in, wanting to hold him there forever.
Fight.
My lips tingled, and green painted the inside of my eyelids. It was happening, the power was rising, trickling out of me and sinking into Micha at every point of contact. Micha gasped against my lips, and I pulled back as his eyes opened. Dark pupils reflected my face back at me as they focused, contracting and then dilating again. Green power skated across his crimson cheeks before sinking into his skin.
“Echo?”
And then his hand was sliding into my hair as he tugged me back down and claimed my mouth in a kiss that melted my heart and brought fresh tears to my eyes. I cupped his face, wanting to be closer, needing to be closer, because he was alive, and I was never letting him go again. My heart felt too big, and so many words were trapped in my throat, unable to get past the lump of emotion that had coalesced there.
I pulled back to scan his face. “You’re okay.” The words were a whisper.
He swept his thumb across my cheek. “I think so.” He raised his hand, wreathed in arcana, and turned it over. The power sank into his skin, and he exhaled sharply. “You’re doing this?”
“I think so.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. But it doesn’t matter because it’s working.” I pressed my hands to his cheeks and sat back, pushing more power into him, willing it to heal him.
He cried out and sat up, his hands gripping my shoulders, and his wings rose up behind him wreathed in green as they knit and healed and expanded, larger and wider. Glorious in the lamplight.
The sound of boot falls was a peripheral annoyance as I closed my eyes and focused on Micha, visualizing the rush of blood to the damaged areas of his wings. Long seconds passed, and then the bite of his fingers eased and he sagged against me, his breath hot on my neck.
Dead City Page 8
