Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic

Home > Other > Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic > Page 13
Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic Page 13

by Meghan Ciana Doidge


  “We’re being overly cautious,” Warner said. “I would ask you to leave …”

  Mari straightened up as she spoke. “The portal is mine to watch over.”

  We were right to be cautious, but I seriously doubted that Shailaja would follow us to Alberta. And if she did, I doubted she would pay any attention to the gatekeepers. They were beneath her notice. Purely a function of the guardians, or as Shailaja would see them, simply servants of the guardians and —

  From far out across the empty fields around the house, I felt the magic of the portal tickle my taste buds.

  For a moment, I assumed I was having a weird flashback to the endless time I’d spent trapped in the portal’s golden magic. Then Warner was moving so fast through the back door — Drake hard on his heels — that the kitchen window beside it cracked under the pressure of his passing.

  Jesus.

  I scrambled out of my seat, barking, “Stay here,” to our hosts. Then I was running out into the snow while attempting to pull on my boots.

  I was so, so stupid. Why had I let us linger? I was wrong to have trusted that Shailaja couldn’t track me through the witch’s wards. I should have walked to the freaking airport and waited there. We’d be hungry and cold, yes. But then the sweet boy in the farmhouse wouldn’t be in danger and —

  Warner and Drake were standing before a petite figure in full warrior gear. I tasted her intense magic — a blend of basil and smoky, sweet tomatoes — before I could clearly distinguish her face.

  Haoxin had arrived.

  I should have been expecting her. The last time we’d used a grid point portal into North America, she’d popped by. It was her territory, after all.

  Her blond hair was held tight against her head in a series of intricate braids pulled into a low bun. She carried a katana almost identical to mine, before I’d used it to drain Sienna’s magic. My weapon had been a gift from my father, and for the brief time it took me to catch up to the group standing in the snowy field, I wondered if hers had been as well.

  “Jiaotu and I have returned,” the guardian of North America was saying to Warner and Drake as I stepped up beside them. They were both barefoot in the snow and didn’t appear to care. “Being best suited to combat the problem, we will remain in the nexus in case the heretic returns.”

  “What do you mean, ‘best suited’?” I asked, offering the guardian a short bow and catching my breath after my dash from the farmhouse.

  Haoxin grinned, sheathing her sword over her shoulder. “The healer mentioned that Shailaja has a new trick. Jiaotu and I are difficult to sneak up on.”

  “And the others?” Warner asked before I could request further clarification.

  Haoxin shrugged. “Some of the older guardians are … amused and not at all surprised.”

  “The same guardians who weren’t in favor of collecting the instruments of assassination in the first place?” I asked.

  “Yes. And the guardians who were walking the earth when Warner and Shailaja first disappeared.”

  “Those incidents are not connected,” Warner said gruffly.

  “No?” the blond guardian asked archly.

  “Suanmi?” Drake asked.

  Haoxin shook her head. “As far as I know, she hasn’t returned.”

  Drake looked relieved. Then he squared his shoulders when Haoxin smirked at him. Despite being one of the guardian nine, I doubted she smirked when Suanmi was in the same room.

  I probably should have been relieved as well, but with the adrenaline from thinking Haoxin was Shailaja still coursing through my veins, I was a little preoccupied. I’d have to worry about dealing with the fire breather later.

  “I must return,” the guardian said. “How will you contact us when you locate Shailaja?”

  “We won’t,” Warner answered. “But Pulou and Yazi can track Jade.”

  “Of course. Let’s hope they wake soon. The healer is currently calling the shots, which is obvious since you’re all here and not in the nexus where you probably should be.” Haoxin eyed all of us, one at a time. “Jiaotu might not stand for it much longer. He is not amused to see Qiuniu in charge.”

  Haoxin was the youngest guardian, followed by the healer, Yazi, then silver-tongued Jiaotu. With the nexus under siege, I assumed that age equaled seniority.

  “I am the sentinel of the instruments of assassination,” Warner said caustically. “My duties are clear and cannot be countermanded.”

  Haoxin shifted her stance, losing every drop of her easygoing humor in the process.

  I wasn’t a fan of the transformation.

  “It is your companions who are questionable, sentinel.”

  “That could be debated,” I said. “Endlessly.”

  Haoxin shifted her blue-eyed gaze to me briefly, then returned her attention to Warner. “You’re defensive, my friend.”

  Warner didn’t answer.

  “We’re not going back,” I said.

  “You won’t be moving forward terribly quickly without the portals. I understand your prey doesn’t have that restriction.”

  “She’ll come to us when it’s time,” Warner said.

  Haoxin tilted her head, regarding him in silence for a moment. Then she let the subject drop.

  “Jiaotu and I will listen for you through the portals that remain open,” she said. “Whatever help that will be.”

  She pivoted, leaving us so quickly that I felt the magic of the portal flare from dozens of feet away before I saw her walking through it.

  “Jesus,” I muttered.

  The guardians were a scary bunch. And our task was even more daunting when backed by the remembrance that Shailaja had incapacitated two of them. She had used the instruments of assassination and my katana to do it.

  And if we could locate it, I was about to hand the final instrument over to her. Or at least I was going to pretend to hand it over. Just long enough to … to what?

  Pulou had mentioned a trial and a possible judgement leading to the edge of my father’s sword. Was I meant to replace the jury and the executioner?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Bashaw airport consisted of three small outbuildings and one runway. One grass runway, currently plowed but still covered in hard-packed snow.

  “Um,” I said as I peered through the windshield of the army-green Jeep Wrangler we’d borrowed from the Albrechts. Well, from Haoxin, really. “Is that runway long enough?”

  “Long enough for what?” Drake asked from the back seat.

  Warner tucked the Jeep against the gray-sided building nearest the runway. There didn’t appear to be a parking lot.

  “For a jet to land.”

  Warner shrugged, turned off the engine, and dropped the keys in the glove box at my knees. “I assume the vampire wouldn’t have said he’d pick us up here otherwise.”

  True. Except Kett’s definition of ‘safe’ might be slightly different than mine.

  “I’ve never flown on a jet before,” Drake said, a trace of glee breaking through his serious demeanor. Though his mentor was still being held hostage by a rabid koala, so I certainly couldn’t blame him for being grim.

  “You’ll sit at the very back,” I said, unclipping my seat belt. “As far away from the engines and the cockpit as possible.”

  Warner was able to interact with most technology without blowing it all to hell with his magic, though long-term use would presumably be a problem. But I’d seen the fledgling guardian shut down a car engine just by laughing.

  Thankfully, the Wrangler was heavily warded against both magic and magical detection, similar to the vehicle Warner and I had borrowed in Peru. That meant that Shailaja still couldn’t track me.

  Drake hopped out of the Jeep, letting a glacial gust of air inside as he tumbled out into the snow to explore.

  “Speaking of Chi Wen,” I muttered, watching the fledgling investigate the empty service buildings. “Who coordinates the air traffic? There isn’t even a tower here.”

  “It’s no
t that kind of airport, Jade,” Warner said kindly. “It’s also not the sort of thing you usually worry about.”

  “You’re right.” I brushed my fingers across the wedding rings on my necklace, reassured by the tingle of magic that rose at my touch. “I just didn’t want to be here.”

  “I know.”

  “Sometimes it feels as though life contrives to mess with you … with me. Is that what destiny feels like?”

  Warner fell silent.

  Just sitting quietly with him in the comfortable warmth of the car, I realized I was exhausted. Physically drained, yes. But it was the emotional baggage I was lugging around that was the true weight.

  “No one is infallible,” Warner finally said. “Even the guardians have been caught unawares.”

  “Have they?”

  “Do you know different?”

  I shook my head, then stopped. “Can he hear us?” I asked, nodding toward Drake as he circled the building third from the end.

  “Not through the wards on the Jeep.”

  I pressed my fingertips to the window beside me, leaving smudges on the chilled glass. I was careful to not screw with any of the spells that protected the vehicle … and us, though I could taste their power. Guardian magic. Haoxin’s, specifically. I wondered if the nine guardians really knew each other, even after hundreds of years.

  “Chi Wen just went with her,” I said. “He didn’t even try to get away.”

  “I thought you figured that was because of your katana?”

  I turned to look at Warner. He glanced at me but kept his gaze on Drake.

  “Could she take him by force?”

  “No.”

  An empty pit opened up in my stomach. “I’m being played somehow. Aren’t I?”

  Warner shook his head immediately. But then he paused to think about it. “If you are, then we all are. And what could possibly be the endgame? No. The guardians were simply sloppy. Arrogant.”

  “Whoa, sentinel. No need to commit treason.”

  Warner snorted. “The far seer is old. He had planned to relinquish his guardianship to Drake’s mother, but now he needs to wait until Drake’s magic is fully realized.”

  “But that happens, right? The sword master was the previous warrior’s apprentice, until he was injured too badly to inherit his mantle. Then he trained my father, who’s a hundred years younger than him.”

  “Thankfully, dragons have long lives. The transfer of a guardian’s power isn’t tied to a certain period of time.”

  “But Pulou talks about his predecessor as if he wasn’t totally with it by the time he passed his mantle on. Was that because Shailaja was to inherit? Then was deemed unworthy?”

  “Could be.”

  “But you weren’t supposed to be the guardian of Northern Europe? And take your mother’s place as Jiaotu?”

  Warner had brought the subject of his possible inheritance up before, back when we were fighting in my apartment. I was rather distraught at the time, though.

  “No. The timing wouldn’t have been right. She was too young.”

  “So you took the sentinel job.”

  Warner reached over and squeezed my knee. I stroked the back of his hand. We had talked about this all before, but the repetition would help me feel as if I had the pieces collected and sorted.

  “And now?”

  “Now what?”

  “Will you be the next far seer?”

  Warner started, as if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him. But then he answered without hesitation. “No.”

  “But Drake is too young, and Chi Wen’s actions make it seem like … like he’s altered. Or … maybe my father is right, and he was simply drawing Shailaja away from the nexus.”

  My phone pinged. I tugged it out of my satchel, glancing down to see a text message from Kett.

  > Look up.

  Warner leaned over to read the screen, then snorted. I cranked my neck to gaze up at the clear sky, but I couldn’t see the jet anywhere.

  “We can fly back to Vancouver and stay put,” Warner said. “We can head back to the nexus. There are always options.”

  “If we do, Drake will go after her alone,” I said.

  “He might. Or he might enlist Suanmi to help him.”

  I shook my head. “He wouldn’t ask. She’d lock him away. Rightfully so.”

  I applied my thumbs to my phone.

  Safe landing.

  Then I leaned across to brush a kiss against Warner’s lips before I climbed out of the Jeep.

  Snow crunched underneath my feet. Drake joined me at the nose of the vehicle, grinning and pointing overhead. “I think they’re circling.”

  I peered up at the sky, finally catching sight of the sleek white jet as it squared off with the end of the runway and started its descent.

  “Please don’t crash,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure whether or not a vampire could survive a plane crash, but I knew his human crew wouldn’t.

  Warner joined me, leaning back against the Jeep. We watched in silence as the jet swooped down like a majestic pure-white bird of prey. Its wheels hit the runway at the first possible point. I held my breath as the plane barreled toward us. Then it barreled past us.

  “Jesus,” I swore under my breath. I clutched my arms across my chest in fear.

  The plane stopped something like a dozen feet from the end of the runway, then attempted to use the remaining space to awkwardly turn around. It didn’t really fit, sending its nose wheel into the surrounding fields a couple of times. Thankfully, the snow wasn’t too deep.

  I tossed my borrowed jacket into the Jeep and locked the doors from the inside. Though I was instantly crazy cold, I didn’t want to steal Mari’s coat or get it destroyed. Collecting instruments of assassination was seriously hazardous to my wardrobe.

  By the time Warner and I stepped onto the runway, Drake was already at the side of the dual-engine jet. As far as I could tell, it was the same plane that had flown me out of Peru a year ago. A custom-painted Learjet that appeared almost predatory with its long nose and tipped wings.

  Directly behind the cockpit windows, the door of the plane popped open and slid to the side. Stairs slowly descended. Kett stood in the opening, grinning down at the fledgling pacing beneath him. His hair and skin were practically as white as the snow surrounding us. He was wearing dark wash jeans, a deep-tan cashmere V-neck sweater, and his typical, ridiculously expensive, dark brown wingtips.

  “Hail, vampire!” Drake called up to him. “Permission to board?”

  Kett threw his head back and laughed.

  Taking that as his answer, Drake grabbed the railing the moment the stairs touched the ground. After quickly scrambling up, the fledgling shook hands with the vampire at the top of the stairs. Then he disappeared into the jet.

  I paused at the base of the stairs, grinning up at my friend. I hadn’t seen him since Peru, though we texted often. Warner waited a step behind me.

  “I thought you might have trouble landing,” I said.

  Kett grinned. He was acting unusually jovial. “It’s the takeoff that might be an issue.”

  Delightful.

  “Not to worry, alchemist. We are light on fuel, so all will be well.”

  Jesus, it was just getting worse.

  Kett tilted his head, looking at me, then to Warner, and then back to me. The smile slipped from his face, leaving only his ice-carved, almost-inert features behind.

  I didn’t mind his stillness. I might have, once, but now I was coming to understand what walking through centuries could be like for an Adept.

  I gripped the cold metal of the railing. I had one foot up on the first step but didn’t follow through with my other foot.

  “I’m … I’m not sure what I’m getting you into,” I whispered, knowing he could hear me even though the engines were still powering down.

  Kett nodded. “You look cold, Jade Godfrey.” Then he retreated into the plane.

  I really was chilly. And though that didn’t
seem like a great excuse to drag a friend into danger, Kett seemed comfortable with it. And who was I to argue with a practically indestructible being?

  ∞

  I woke up to find a vampire watching me sleep.

  It wasn’t as creepy as it sounded. Of course, it helped that the vampire in question was one of my BFFs, and that he had a possible allergy to my blood.

  I scrubbed my hands across my face, feeling worse than I had before I’d succumbed to blissful slumber.

  “How long was I out?” I asked, straightening my plush white leather seat.

  “Not long enough,” Kett said. “We refueled in Calgary and are just crossing the border now. You should try to nap longer. You look anemic.”

  I snorted, making the easy assumption that ‘anemic’ was probably the worst thing a vampire could say about you.

  I cranked around in my chair. Kett and I were seated across from each other in the middle of the six-passenger, wide-aisled jet. Warner and Drake were sprawled across the back two seats. They’d fallen asleep watching a movie, and the pop-up monitors on their side shelves were reflecting some sort of action sequence across their peaceful faces. The jet’s interior design was white on white … on more white. It was definitely calming. Which I imagined was the point. Otherwise it was simply a damn expensive customization on a whim. And Kett wasn’t prone to whimsy.

  I turned back as a dark-haired steward made his way toward us from the galley at the front of the cabin. I recognized him from the last time I’d flown Vampire Air in the aftermath of thinking I’d lost both Warner and Kett in Peru. As he had then, he wore a pristinely pressed navy suit and a crisp white shirt. Still no name tag, though.

  “Tea? Hot chocolate?” the steward asked. His voice was pitched low so as not to wake Warner and Drake, but I could have told him not to bother. They were seriously out cold. “We have real whipped cream.”

  He held a small silver tray toward me. It contained three hot towels and a tiny silver ramekin of what appeared to be lotion.

  I eyed Kett. “Please tell me that’s not my regular face cream.”

  “It is.”

  “You know, other girls would find you seriously creepy.”

 

‹ Prev