Blood Rite

by E.J. Stevens

  When Kaye had been admitted to the asylum, she’d been in the thrall of powerful magic. But the woman in the bed before me was my old friend, not an enemy. I’d bet my life on it.

  If we got caught by The Circle’s operatives, it just might come to that.

  Chapter 45

  Sneaking out of the asylum took steady nerves and more than one magic spell. Good thing we had two witches with us. It also helped that Arachne had spent plenty of time here at her mother’s side, making her intimately familiar with The Circle’s security protocols. That inside knowledge gave us the edge we needed to escape, or so we hoped.

  “Look, we’re nearly home safe, but we still need to get past those guards,” I said. “Any ideas?”

  We’d had to leave the wheelchair on the second-floor landing, opting for slower movement rather than face the nursing station head-on. But that meant trying to tiptoe down a stairwell with a frightened teenager, a frail woman, a cat, and a farting night-mare.

  “We need a distraction,” Arachne said. “A big one.”

  “Fireball?” I asked.

  I could cast a fireball. But that left us with the problem of managing enough of a fire for a distraction, but not so big as to cause damage or casualties. I’d need to tap into a ley line for that level of power and control, something that might tip off the asylum’s witch security.

  “Too risky,” she said.

  “What about a monster, dear?” Kaye asked, stroking her cat.

  I swear she was enjoying this.

  “You can’t summon here,” Arachne said, scowling. “The entire place is warded against calling monsters.”

  “Leave that to me, my dear,” Kaye said. “And to Midnight.”

  She set the black cat down on the linoleum-tiled floor.

  “Glamour?” I asked.

  I suppose the old with could probably cast a glamour on the cat, making it look terrifying long enough to distract the guards and let us escape. Maybe.

  “Better that you not know the specifics,” Kaye said with a wink.

  Oh, yeah. She was definitely enjoying this. But maybe Kaye was right. Plausible deniability and all that.

  “Um, okay,” Arachne said. “Wait for my signal.”

  Arachne strode out toward the front doors, leaving me to gape at her. The kid was brave, I’d give her that.

  “Stay with me,” I said, glancing down at Fernie.

  The night-mare whinnied and nodded her head. Kaye dropped Midnight to the ground and I held my breath. Arachne spoke with the guards at the door, acting for all the world like a bored teenaged.

  Her minor distraction gave the cat an opportunity to slip across the gap and behind the reception desk.

  “What now?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  “We wait,” Kaye said.

  A dark shape, Midnight I presumed, crept out from the other side of the reception desk, slid across the far side of the lobby, and disappeared into the lobby level ward. I wondered idly how long we’d have to wait for Kaye’s spell.

  We didn’t have to wait long.

  Screams erupted from the opposite wing of the hospital, drawing the door guards into the ward and the chaos beyond. Whatever Kaye had used for a glamour on Midnight, it had to be terrifying. Too bad I wouldn’t have a chance to find out.

  Arachne waved us forward, and we ran across the lobby. Luck was for once with us. We crept out the front doors and ran down the path that led to the front gates. Screams continued behind us, and I bit my lip.

  Would Midnight be okay?

  I needn’t have worried. As we ran down the path, green lawn blurring in my peripheral vision, we were joined by a ball of black fur. Midnight had made it out safely.

  In fact, so had we.

  I turned to Arachne when we finally hurried through the gates and down a side alley, out of sight of the asylum’s grounds.

  “Thank you,” I said, dragging air into oxygen-deprived lungs. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”

  “Just, like, don’t think this is over,” she said, eyes darting furtively over her shoulder. “My mother doesn’t give up that easily. Neither does The Circle.”

  Eventually, we’d have to face The Circle, and Arachne’s mother’s wrath, but by then, I hoped that Kaye would be healthy and stable enough to prove that she was no longer a threat to herself or others. Until then, she wanted to go home.

  I could understand that desire. Sadly, Kaye’s physical home, The Emporium, was mostly rubble and ash. Arachne chewed on a purple lock of hair and eyed Kaye warily. Neither of us knew how much Kaye remembered from our battle, nor how much she might have heard of our conversations while she slept.

  Now that we were away from the asylum and drawing closer to the street in the Old Port Quarter where Kaye had lived for over a century, I was trying to broach the subject. But we’d waited too long to fill Kaye in on the details. Neither of us had expected the older woman, who’d spent recent weeks in a hospital bed, to start running. We hurried to catch up, Fernie at my heels. Even the night-mare tried to hurry. But we were too late.

  Chapter 46

  Kaye flung herself around the stone and brick corner and gasped, a tattooed hand flying up to cover her mouth. She hugged Midnight close to her chest with her other hand, as if sheltering the cat from the cold, hard truth.

  “What have I done?” Kaye muttered. “How could I…?”

  Kaye blanched, shame and sorrow dancing across her face.

  “This is my fault,” I said, shaking my head.

  “But I…” she said.

  “No,” I said. “This is on me. And I have a plan to rebuild The Emporium. I’ve got this.”

  “Dear Goddess, what about Marvin, and Hob?” she asked, voice quivering. “Are they hurt?”

  “They’re fine,” Arachne said, staring down at her purple shoes. “Ivy found them a place to stay. Just like she’ll help you.”

  The kid had more faith in me than I did, but I swore not to let her, or Kaye, down again.

  “I have something to show you,” I said.

  “I don’t know how much more of this I can take right now,” Kaye said, sagging.

  She looked exhausted. Midnight licked her hand, trying to comfort her.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s something good. Think you can walk a little further?”

  Kaye took a deep breath, holding Midnight close. She seemed to draw strength from the black cat. Maybe, she did. I didn’t really know the inner workings of the relationship between a witch and her familiar. If nothing else, Midnight’s affection appeared to give her comfort.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  Arachne gave her teacher an encouraging smile, and we continued walking along the sidewalk, Fernie trotting along happily on her leash. Midnight snuck an occasional glance at the night-mare, and I had the nagging suspicion that those two might really become friends. Maybe, when the repair work on The Emporium was done, Fernie might find a home there.

  I’m not sure if Hob would return or continue to live in Eden Park. I wasn’t even sure if he’d welcome the witch back into his heart. But we were about to find out.

  “What is this place?” Kaye asked, blinking at the gardens that had sprung up from the Wild Hunt’s fallen. “Or rather, what happened here? This was an industrial park.”

  We stood on the sidewalk just outside Eden Park. This would be a strange homecoming for Kaye, but I could ease her discomfort with the knowledge that something good had come from our city’s recent battles.

  “Arachne, think you can talk to the pooka guards about letting us through?” I asked. “I’d like a minute with Kaye.”

  “Sure,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “If they give you any trouble, ask for Marvin,” I said. “Or holler for me. But try not to tell Marvin why we’re here. I’d like it to be a surprise.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  Arachne nodded and marched over to Violet and Amber. The pookas were still guarding the entrance, or ha
ving a dance party. With those two, it was hard to tell.

  Midnight eyed the pookas, tail twitching.

  “No eating the faeries,” I said.

  The cat hissed at me and went back to licking Kaye’s hand.

  “Why are there so many fae here?” Kaye asked. “Not that I should be surprised. They are drawn to you.”

  “To me?” I squeaked. “Nah, I just have a thing for strays. Nobody should be without a home. Or friends.”

  “I suppose I am one of your strays now, dear,” Kaye said. “How the wands have turned.”

  I shifted my weight and rubbed the back of my neck.

  “Um, we’ll find a place for you stay,” I said. “And I’ll rebuild The Emporium. Until then, I do hope you’ll let us help. We can figure this out, together.”

  Kaye nodded, kissing Midnight and making the cat purr.

  “Do not worry about me, dear,” she said. “I have a place I can lay my head while we rebuild. Yes, we. I’m not such an old fool as to think I can do this on my own. Not anymore.”

  “Thank you,” I said, letting out a relieved breath.

  “For what, dear?” she asked.

  “For trusting me,” I said. “For letting me help.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she said, a sly twinkle in her eye. “You don’t know what I’m about to ask of you.”

  My shoulders slid back, and I lifted my chin, ready for whatever Kaye might throw at me.

  “I owe you,” I said. “And you’re my friend. What do you need?”

  “A temporary home for Midnight,” she said.

  “Is that all?” I asked, grinning. “Of course. Absolutely. Midnight can stay with me. The loft is super crowded, and I’m not sure how a cat might feel about a curious demon toddler, but Fernie is bunking in our office, and they seem to get along.”

  It would mean another trip to the pet store. Maybe, we’d get Midnight and Fernie matching beds. That would be adorable.

  “He is a cat, but more than a cat,” she said, staring down into Midnight’s eyes.

  Because he was a witch’s familiar? I was curious, but Arachne was waving for us to join her.

  “Um, okay,” I said. “So, anything special I should know about?”

  “I am sure Midnight will behave himself,” Kaye said. “Won’t you, dear?”

  I could have sworn the cat winked at me, a smug grin on its lips. Great. That was just great.

  “Why am not convinced?” I muttered.

  “Just don’t do anything foolish, my dear,” Kaye said.

  “Like?” I asked.

  “Like invite over any of your pooka friends,” she said.

  “Oh, sure,” I said, watching as Midnight ran a pink tongue over tiny, sharp teeth. Why did I feel like I’d invited a furry vampire into my home? “That would probably be bad.”

  “And don’t leave shiny things lying around the place,” she said. “Not unless you wish for Midnight to keep them safe for you.”

  Oh, joy. The cat sounded like Hob. I’d have to cat-proof our office before letting Midnight have free reign. I suppose if anything sparkly went missing, I’d know where to look.

  “Okay,” I said. “Good to know.”

  I tried to think of anything specific we might need to know. Like allergies, or dietary requirements. It’s not like I could feed a cat pizza. What do cats eat? Fish? Steak?

  “Does he eat meat?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, a grin tugging at her lips.

  “Cool,” I said, a chill skittering up my spine.

  Kaye sure could be spooky sometimes.

  “And this place?” she asked, deftly changing the subject. “These gardens that Arachne is so eager for us to enter, how did a park come to be here?”

  “It sprang from the Wild Hunt’s fallen,” I said, glad for the change of subject. “This is where we held our last stand.”

  “So much blood,” Kaye whispered. “So many lives sacrificed.”

  “That’s why it’s important to preserve this place,” I said, heart swelling. I would not let those we lost to have died in vain. “To protect it. These gardens are a sanctuary for the more peaceful fae. For the marginalized and the displaced. What better way to honor the memories of those who gave their lives to protect this city?”

  “What better way, indeed,” she said. “You’ve done well here.”

  “Well, it’s not really like I can take the credit,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “We have the Wild Hunt to thank for the gardens, not me. I just had some ideas of what they could be used for. That’s all.”

  “No, that’s not true,” she said. “You are the true reason these gardens sprouted.”

  “I don’t follow,” I said, frowning.

  “You’ve been tugging at the ley lines from the moment your faerie powers awakened,” Kaye said.

  I wanted to deny it, but she had a point.

  “I guess,” I said, chewing the inside of my cheek. “A few times. When the situation was extreme enough, I’ve tapped into their power. I try not to make a habit of it. Ley lines give me a killer headache and make my teeth feel like they’re going to fall out.”

  “But you have made a habit of it, dear,” she said. “And you will continue to reach for the ley lines, no matter how dire the circumstance. You, Ivy, are a natural conduit.”

  Arachne tried to get our attention, but I focused on Kaye. She was rarely this loquacious, and I needed answers.

  “But a conduit to what?” I asked. “To power? To magic?”

  “To Faerie,” she said.

  “What does that mean?” I asked. “Being a conduit to Faerie?”

  “It means, dear,” she said. “That you are the one person able to renew the bonds between the human world and Faerie.”

  That didn’t sound terrifying or anything.

  “And if I don’t want to?” I asked.

  “You’ve already begun,” she said, nodding toward Arachne and strolling across the street.

  “Awesome,” I said.

  “It’s not all bad,” she said. “There will be change, of course, as Faerie’s magic returns to this world, but you aren’t just altering magic. You are bringing our two realms closer together.”

  “Like a human-faerie ambassador?” I asked.

  “You are already that, my dear,” she said.

  “So, when you say that I’m bringing the two realms closer together, you mean that literally?” I asked, lifting my hands wide and sliding them closer together to demonstrate my meaning.

  “Yes,” she said. “You are, for want of a better term, changing and shifting the fabric of the universe.”

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I really am tugging on the threads between our worlds.”

  “For good or ill, yes,” she said.

  It was a lot to take in. My mind raced with the possibilities, most of them bad. But if I brought our worlds together, hopefully without cataclysmically colliding, then I might be able to reopen the doors to Faerie.

  That could have horrific consequences, but there was one positive that I could immediately think of. Torn and the others would be able to honor their dead with a proper burial. No more burying cat sidhe in our pet cemeteries. It was a silver lining to hold on to.

  Chapter 47

  Prison breaks, or in this case an asylum break, aren’t easy. If anyone tries to say otherwise, they probably have a bridge to sell you. But curing Kaye, seeing her free, and reuniting our weird little family helped ease the turmoil roiling inside me since my trip to the Necropolis.

  I should be exhausted. Instead, I was more energized than I’d been in weeks.

  It helped that Hob and Marvin had welcomed Kaye back with open arms. Sure, Hob had acted grouchy at first, but it was all a ruse. It wasn’t long before he lost his frown and was dancing a merry jig. Even the gnomes and pookas joined in, swarming around Kaye in a riot of excited squeals and peals of laughter.

  Their laughter was contagious. Even Delilah was giggling as Violet and
Amber treated her bosom like a bouncy castle, a trick that held Torn’s rapt attention. I’d been reluctant to invite the succubus to join us, but, so far, she hadn’t sucked anyone’s life force.

  We were safe, for now.

  Marvin had set aside his club and discarded his armor, looking once more like a happy, awkward teenager as he danced with Arachne. I was saddened that they ever had to grow up, but for today at least, they could shed that weight and enjoy Kaye’s homecoming.

  Seeing all my friends together in one place warmed my heart. It also helped me make a decision.

  Since Faerie’s painful forced attempt at my transformation in the Necropolis, and Kaye’s terrifying words about my effect on our worlds and the ley lines, I’d started mulling over possibilities and the reality of our current situation.

  We faced constant challenges and frequent horrors. If Mab continued her efforts to throw her twisted pets at me, it was only going to get worse.

  I’d decided to stay, to remain here in Harborsmouth with the people I loved. Seeing them all around me, happy and whole, helped me make another difficult choice.

  I had sworn to protect this city and its innocent human and faerie inhabitants. I’d promised to do whatever it took to keep my friends and family safe. If there was anything I could do to ensure their safety, I would do it. No matter how large the personal sacrifice.

  My heart swelled. I turned to Jinx and smiled.

  “This calls for a celebration,” I said.

  “Wait, you’re the one who wants a party?” Jinx asked. “Who are you and what did you do with my best friend?”

  “Hey, I didn’t agree to a bacchanal, just a simple gathering of friends,” I said, holding up gloved hands, palm out.

  “No take backs?” she asked.

  “Nope,” I said. “But it needs to be tonight.”

  So many of my loved ones were already here enjoying themselves. Who knew when that might happen again? You never know when disaster is going to strike.

  We’d have a party, and I could share my decision with them all.