Grave War (An Alex Craft Novel)

by Kalayna Price

  “I will relay any message you have to the governor,” the aide standing in front of me said, clip pad at the ready, but he hadn’t offered to shake our hands when he’d shown us from the receptionist’s desk into this small closet of an office. Of course, he was an aide for the Humans First Party and in the dim fluorescent lights, I was very obviously not human.

  “I need to discuss this directly with the governor,” I said, not for the first time.

  The aide only frowned at me. “He has a very busy schedule today. You are free to schedule an appointment.” He glanced down at a calendar on his tablet. “We can probably work you in for a week from next Monday.”

  Considering it was Wednesday, that was a pretty shitty offer.

  “Has he been told the FIB agent in charge is here to discuss a matter relating to yesterday’s bombing?”

  “As I said, the governor has a very busy schedule—”

  “So then no. He hasn’t been told,” I said, cutting him off.

  The aide jutted out his chin, his chest puffing out in his bluster. “Did you want to give me your message or schedule an appointment?”

  Nori, who had been mostly silent, began listing off statutes that should have gotten us a prompt meeting with the governor, but the smug little aide continued stonewalling.

  We clearly weren’t going to get anywhere with this guy. I considered just marching out the door and down the hall—I knew where the governor’s office was, after all. But that would probably end with security jumping me and all kinds of messy paperwork.

  “Roy, go see if the governor is in his office,” I whispered under my breath, trying not to move my lips as I spoke. Nori’s heated debate with the aide kept either of them from noticing, but Tem shot me a confused look from where he stood off to one side.

  “Sure thing,” Roy said, practically dashing from the room. The ghost loved being able to contribute to a case, and I’d learned long ago that ghosts made excellent spies.

  Roy made it back just as the aide began trying to dismiss us from his office. I ignored the short man and gave Roy an expectant look.

  “That room is warded tight. I could peek in, but I couldn’t actually enter. I hate wards like that.”

  I made a small hand motion, trying to hurry Roy along.

  “He’s here. He’s not even with anyone. From what I could see, he is alone in his office looking over paperwork.”

  Perfect.

  I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled through my contacts. I’d saved my father’s private number with no other information, just the number. I didn’t use it often, but I had called on him in emergencies before, so I always made sure I kept the number on file.

  He picked up on the second ring. “Alexis, now is not a good time.”

  “Governor Caine, your staff are insufferable assholes who refuse to make me an appointment for any sooner than two weeks from now.”

  The aide’s jaw went slack as he stared at me in stunned horror. On the other end of the line, my father was silent for a moment before saying, “Are you in the office currently?”

  “I am. I’m with . . .” I looked at the aide. “What did you say your name was?”

  The aide sputtered, but didn’t actually supply an answer.

  My father sighed.

  “Wait there,” he said and then hung up. Moments later he stepped into the doorway of the small office in which we stood. The aide had been holding open the door, insisting we leave—I don’t think he really believed I’d called the governor.

  “I’ll take it from here, Henry,” my father said, nodding to the flustered aide.

  The other man just stammered for a moment, staring at me. Then he said, “But, sir, she—”

  “I said I would see to it. Agent Craft, if you would follow me?”

  I flashed some teeth at the aide and then turned on my heel, marching out of the room, Tem and Nori at my side. When we reached my father’s office, he nodded to the two security types outside of it and then turned back to me. “Your associates will have to wait out here.”

  Tem looked about to protest, but Nori just narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t an idiot. Between the little bit she’d overheard at the limo last night and the trick I’d just pulled, she’d clearly figured out I had some tie to the governor. Thankfully she was smart enough not to give voice to whatever questions she might have and only nodded when I said, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

  The big troll clearly didn’t like the arrangement, but he didn’t argue. Roy, on the other hand, made several disparaging comments as the wards blocked him in the doorway.

  “I guess I’ll wait out here,” he said with a sulk, slumping his shoulders.

  My father shut the door behind us. Then he walked around his large executive-sized desk and settled himself before motioning for me to take one of the padded chairs across from him. He watched me as I sat, his elbows balanced on the desk, his hands neatly clasped. It was a power posture, both relaxed and authoritative at the same time. He studied me in perfect stillness, the edginess I’d seen last night now absent. He may have been unnerved yesterday, but here and now, he was perfectly in control.

  I crossed my legs, and then thought better of it and uncrossed them. The chair, while it looked sleek and professional, was uncomfortable. The dimensions were wrong in some slight way so that I couldn’t figure out where to put my arms to strike that balance between assertive and casual. Which left me fidgety. My father watched me, impersonating an angry statue.

  “Was that really necessary?” he asked once I’d settled, his hand making the smallest gesture toward the door and, I guessed, the stunt I’d pulled to get in here.

  With a shrug I said, “Your gatekeeper wouldn’t let me pass.” And while I could have waited until tonight, when he was home and out of the public eye, I did have a legitimate reason to be here in an official capacity.

  “And what is so very urgent that you decided to make a scene?”

  I stared at him. Surely he hadn’t dismissed the bombing and all the potential ramifications this quickly. Or maybe he just didn’t care. “You’re governor of Nekros and a portion of the population needs help evacuating.”

  He blinked at me.

  “The wild fae? I need to figure out how to relocate them while I try to fix the door. If I can’t fix it in time, I don’t want them fading.”

  “What is it you think I can do?”

  “I don’t know. Supply an airplane? Possibly several buses if we want to send them to South America, though I imagine land travel might be tricky as they’d have to pass through other courts.”

  He continued to stare at me as if he’d never seen me before.

  “What?” Was I overlooking some obvious and simpler way to get the fae to the nearest winter territory?

  “You want me to relocate all the fae in Nekros?”

  “If this were a natural disaster, the government would create some sort of evacuation plan, right? I mean, really, coming to you is probably not a big enough response. With all the doors on this continent gone, the evacuation needs to be much larger. But I’m starting where I can.”

  A slow smile crawled over my father’s face. This was not his normal politician’s smile. This smile came from a different face, one I couldn’t actually see with his glamour up. It was slightly creepy, as it looked misplaced, and yet it was a smile that went all the way to his eyes and made them light from within, not in a magical way, but in an expression I’d never seen before.

  “Why, Alexis,” he said, leaning forward, and I had the urge to shrink back from the sheer oddness of the way he looked at me. Not bad—in fact, it was probably the most genuine expression I’d ever seen on him—but it was alien, out of place. “I do believe what I am feeling is pride. I don’t think I’ve ever been proud of you before.”

  Gee, thanks. “And that would be why you never won
a Father of the Year award,” I said, working hard to keep my voice flat and empty. I wasn’t that little girl who’d searched for his approval anymore. I’d given up on that a long time ago, and this was far too little too late. “So does that mean you’ll help evacuate the wild fae? And any other independents who might need help?”

  “No.”

  His answer was immediate and caught me off guard, as just a moment before, he’d been beaming at me.

  “But . . . you just said—”

  “Alexis, I’m pleased you are thinking about the well-being of the fae as a whole, and not only the few you know personally and have decided are safe and friendly.” His expression was back to that of the distant politician. “But what you are asking isn’t feasible. Talk to the Shadow King about providing safe passage. Work out a negotiation with him, and I will allow the fae access to the private garden you created in my house.”

  I opened my mouth, and then closed it. “Private garden” had to refer to the room in which I’d accidentally merged realities under the Blood Moon over half a year ago. Chunks of Faerie had been woven right into mortal reality, as had patches of the land of the dead and other planes I didn’t even have names for. I’d assumed when Faerie had withdrawn and taken all the other pockets of Faerie at sunset, that one would have been dissolved as well. But from his words . . .

  “It’s still there?”

  My father nodded. “I checked on it this morning, after dawn. The edges have begun to fray, but your work is holding so far. Without an amaranthine tree to root Faerie into this world, even your planeweaving will not last, but for now, it is there. You should act fast, though, if you want the Shadow King’s help. Once that bastion of Faerie falls, we will truly be cut off. Even I may have to leave.”

  I sank back into my seat, my mind going too fast to worry about my body for the moment. Dugan had said there was one place left in all of North America that still had enough ties to Faerie that the planebender would be able to reach it. This had to be where. If I could negotiate with the Shadow King to use his planebender, I could walk all the fae in Nekros right into Faerie. But there was more to unpack here. If the area I had merged had survived, could we create a new door there? I had a vague memory of Falin once telling me that it was rumored planeweavers had created the original doors. My father had said the High King had planted the amaranthine trees, but until recently, he’d had planeweavers in his court to do his bidding.

  “If there is nothing else . . .” my father said when my silence stretched.

  My gaze snapped to him. “You still owe me an answer on how to get to the high court.”

  Shock crossed his features for half a moment before he schooled his face neutral once more. “Now what, Alexis? We did discuss this during the Winter Solstice.”

  “You told me a legend about how the courts were formed. You didn’t tell me how to reach the court.”

  He rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. “Because there is no court. We’ve covered this. You wanted to find other planeweavers, but they are gone. Dead.”

  “Yeah, well, you said the High King is the one who planted the amaranthine trees initially. We kind of need more, so I’m guessing we will likely need the High King for that.”

  Again my father stared at me like he had no idea who I was. After a long pause he said in a tone like he might use when speaking to a young child, “Four amaranthine trees were destroyed in a single day. I promise you, the High King knows this and is taking action. But amaranthine trees do not grow overnight. Not even in Faerie.” He stood. “You need to hurry now. You have negotiations to undertake, and then the actual rounding up of all the fae you wish to rescue. Do call before you start herding them to my home. I will have to make arrangements.”

  The dismissal was obvious. I rose to my feet slowly. He’d both given me a path and neatly sidestepped having to actually do anything himself. Well, except allowing droves of fae onto his estate, I guess that was something. Getting the fae directly to Faerie—assuming I could work out safe passage with the Shadow King—was far better than trying to figure out a way to ship them across the world. I considered pressing my father for information on the high court, but it sounded like I wouldn’t find the amaranthine trees I needed there either. At least not for a while. I had to hope Dugan found the sapling from the swamp.

  My father stepped around his desk to see me out, but my thoughts were already on how I was going to get in touch with the Shadow King, my feet following on autopilot. Dugan had responded when I’d whispered into shadows, but it had taken a while. How long would it take to gather the fae once I’d worked out passage? And how long would the merged pocket of Faerie last? If it was already fraying, how many sunsets, how many dawns, would it last?

  We were halfway to the door when my father suddenly stopped, his back going rigid. Then he fell to his knees. His glamour dissolved as he pitched forward, catching himself with his hands a moment before his face would have slammed into the floor.

  I yelped, rushing forward. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  He coughed. Drops of liquid hit the floor in front of him, glittering like rubies lit from within for a heartbeat before losing their glow and turning dark red. Blood.

  “Shit.” I dropped to my own knees beside him. I reached out, but then hesitated, not sure if I should touch him. Not sure what the hell was going on.

  “Help!” I screamed, looking up at the door. The security guards were just outside, as were Tem and Nori. “Someone help us!”

  The door didn’t open. Of course not. This office was likely both magically and structurally soundproof.

  I laid a hand on his shoulder, unsure what to do. He looked up at me. Blood dribbled down the corner of his mouth. Whatever had just happened, he needed help.

  “I’ll be right back,” I whispered, starting to climb to my feet.

  My father’s hand wrapped around my wrist, holding me in place. He took a breath, and it made a sucking, wet sound that left him coughing again, blood spraying from his lips. The blood wasn’t only coming from his mouth. His shirt was covered in blood, a hole as big as my fist in his chest.

  I gasped. Had he been shot? I hadn’t heard anything. Hadn’t seen anything. My gaze swung around the room, my shields dropping as I searched for some unseen enemy. Nothing. No one.

  “I’m going to get help,” I said again, trying to pull away.

  He shook his head, his hand locking tighter around my wrist. Damn it. Was his secret so important that he would rather bleed to death on his office floor?

  “Alexis . . .” His voice was a cracked whisper, my name barely discernible. “My blood . . . will open it. Go to . . . Shadow.”

  He released my wrist as another awful cough shook his entire body. I jumped to my feet, dashing for the door, for whatever help I could find beyond. But his cough cut off in midwheeze. I glanced back over my shoulder, afraid of the worst.

  And found the room . . . empty.

  There was a spattering of blood where he’d been and a pile of bloody clothing and his shoes. I still had my shields down, my psyche peering across the planes. He wasn’t hidden under a glamour. He was just gone. Vanished.

  Fae don’t just vanish.

  And yet he had. And I was alone. In the governor’s office. The only trace of my father some discarded clothing and blood on the wooden floor.

  Chapter 18

  I stood stunned, my heart pounding. What just happened? I blinked. My father had not just collapsed, bleeding from a gaping chest wound, and then vanished. That could not have happened.

  But there was blood on the office floor. His clothes. His phone, which had fallen out of the pocket of his now empty pants. His polished shoes, one sitting upright, the other lying on its side.

  I walked around the room, quickly scanning every crevice and corner without touching anything. There was no one here. No traps. No holes in the wind
ows or walls to indicate a sniper attack. Bullets would have left a trace. Magic should have too, but while I could feel my father’s wards, there was no trace of any foreign magic in the room, and the wards felt undisturbed.

  So what the hell had just happened? And where had he vanished to? Had he teleported somewhere else, naked and bleeding? Was that possible? Soul collectors could translocate. Ghosts could sink deeper into the land of the dead, seeming to vanish but really only leaving the mortal plane. But fae had physical bodies. They couldn’t just—poof—disappear. Humans often thought they could, but if a fae vanished, it was a trick, like glamour, sometimes combined with superhuman speed or flight or something. But they didn’t teleport.

  So where was my father? With my shields down I should have seen through any glamour tricks. Hell, I probably could have seen if he’d managed to step into another plane. But he was just gone.

  I didn’t particularly like my father on most days, but I didn’t want to see him hurt.

  And he’d had a freaking hole in his chest.

  This was bad. So, so bad.

  I stopped walking because I realized I was now pacing, no longer searching, just moving because I couldn’t stay still. So I forced myself to stop and take a deep breath. I’d been in here a while now. How long before someone would knock on the door to check that everything was okay? Not that things were okay . . .

  Shit. Where had he gone? Was he alive?

  I stared at the blood. There wasn’t much on the floorboards considering how badly he’d been hurt. His shirt, though . . .

  It was on my gloves too, as well as the cuff of the sleeve where he’d grabbed me. The black material mostly hid it, but I caught a bloody fingerprint on the skin of my wrist and smudged on my charm bracelet. I started to strip off my gloves—I had a backup pair in my purse. Then I hesitated.