Chapter Twenty-Six
I am in no shape to do anything than reel at Trick's words. Natural affinity? What does that even mean? Dham pulls my arm around his shoulders and begins to walk with me toward the door. I'm grateful that Dham is here to help me out of the tunnels and back to Auntie's. My head feels like it is stuffed with rocks wrapped in wet cloths. Every time I move, the rocks tumble against the inside of my skull with a dull, squishy thumping. I'm finding it hard to stay upright or even know which is the right direction to walk in.
Trick isn't happy that Dham's dragging me out. "I suppose I just wait here for you, shall I?" His voice has taken on its usual sarcastic tone. "Don't mind me while I languish in solitude tucked away in this forsaken cell. Just pop on down whenever you need something, and I'll be more than happy to provide it like the good little slave I am."
"Shut up!" Dham turns to face Trick, bringing half of me with him. I'm tucked underneath his arm, doing my best to stay upright. I groan as the movement makes my head pound. "She was trying to help you!"
"Not me, imbecile," Trick hisses, eyes alight with fury. "She was trying to help this meat suit I'm trapped inside!"
"Could you both please be quiet?" I struggle to form words. "I think I might be sick."
I breathe slowly through my nose, trying to get my stomach to stop doing ballet leaps all over my body. Eventually everything settles down to approximately where it should be. I still feel punch drunk, but at least the initial fear of vomit has passed.
I face the demon. He's still bound inside the pentacles and tied to the chair. His nostrils flare out angrily, his usual impassive mask gone. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't plan this, but I need to figure this out. I'll be back."
He opens his mouth for an angry retort, then suddenly stops. His face takes on a placid look and his voice is calm when he speaks. "Fine." He raises his hands as far as his bindings will allow and waves his fingers. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
I stagger away from Dham, coming to the very edge of the pentacle marked on the floor. "I'll figure out a way out of this. I promise." I meet his eyes steadily. Trick blinks, clearly surprised at my words.
"You'll forgive me if I don't hold you to that." His eyes stray up to the ceiling where the other pentacle has been marked.
"What does it mean that we're linked?" I keep my voice low, eyeing Dham.
Trick’s eyes catch and hold mine. There's a burning deep in them, turning the brown irises into something almost dark red. "Your life force and mine. If you die, I cease to be."
I rock back on my heels, stunned. "How is that even possible?"
"Conjuration is a powerful force. Even I don't understand it all. But it is possible."
"What about you?" I'm wondering if it goes both ways.
"Me?"
"If you die—or whatever on this plane—does that mean I do too?" My last few words drop down to a whisper.
Trick eyes me carefully, as though weighing what he should tell me. He could lie and I know I can't trust a thing that comes out of his mouth, but if what he said about the binding is true, lying will gain him nothing. Finally he says, "I am not sure. But I would assume so." He sniffs dismissively. "To be frank, I really only pay attention to what might happen to me." He smiles cheekily.
I frown, the pain in my head almost a thing apart now. This is too much to take in. I need to do more research into the Key of Solomon and see if there's anything in there about this kind of binding. The strange thing is that I used passages that felt right when I was creating the ritual. It looks like my instincts were wrong. There has to be a way to undo this.
"I'll be back." I say it again, both for Trick and for myself.
He nods once. I hobble to the door, amazed at how even my muscles hurt. It takes twice as long to get out of the tunnels than usual, especially since we have to try and go by ways where few people will see us. We manage to get topside and I even manage to make it to a park near Lincoln's Inn Fields before I have to rest on a bench for a few minutes to get my breath. I feel strangely exhausted, like I used up every ounce of my strength.
"So what exactly went wrong?" Dham picks at some grass and threads it lightly between his fingers.
I lean my head back against the bench, almost too tired to respond. The sun is warm on my face and there's a light breeze that barely rustles the leaves of the trees. On days like this, it is hard to believe that the world is anything other than good. Then I open my eyes and I see that we're the only ones sitting in the park; most people rush through it with heads down, determined to get home to where they think they're safe.
I think of children spying on their parents, of neighbors turning in their friends for suspicious behavior. Safe doesn't exist. Nowhere is safe.
I shake my head. "I have no idea. Most of it was guesswork."
"How did you even know where to start?" Dham lays back in the grass, chewing on a long stalk.
"I rifled through Ryland's files until I found what I thought was the ritual he used to bind the demon inside of Patrick in the first place." I close my eyes again so I don't have to see the expression on his face.
"A, you can't just play around with that stuff." He sound equal parts worried and angry. "Are you crazy?"
I open my eyes and sit up. I stare at him, carefully gauging my next admission. He's in this with me, I might as well come clean about the other secret I have. "There's something I need to show you." I stand up, swaying for a moment. "Come on."
Dham catches up to me. "There's more?"
I nod. "It's not safe to talk about here." I look around the perimeter of the park, but I can't see anyone who looks openly like they work for the Inquisition. That doesn't mean they aren't out there though.
"I get that," he says. We walk abreast down the brick path. "I'm just a little surprised."
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. He's wearing a very slight smile. "Surprised how?"
"You never struck me as the rule-breaking type." He nudges me with his elbow, nearly sending me sprawling. "It looks good on you."
I roll my eyes. Oh yes, my devil-may-care recklessness is so appealing that I am well nigh irresistible. Clearly. Right up until I get us all hauled in front of Ryland or worse. Then we'll see how bloody good it looks.
I lead him up to my room and lock the door. "What I'm about to show you does. NOT. LEAVE. THIS. ROOM."
Dham waves his hand at me. "Well, go on. You can't lead with something like that and just stand there." He puts his back against the footboard of my bed and stretches his legs out on the floor.
I pull up the floorboard and stick my hand into the hidey hole and pull out the warded bag that holds the book. I take a quick look outside my window before closing it and the shade. Then I bring the package over to him. I slide the book out and lay it flat on the floor between us.
"A book?" He's trying to keep the skepticism from his voice. He mostly fails.
I gesture for him to open it.
With a dubious look at me, Dham flips open the cover and leafs through the front until he comes to the title page. He looks up at me with wide eyes. "Not just a book," he breathes. "The book." He turns a few more pages. "How did you get your hands on this?"
I clear my throat nervously as I confess. "Remember that night we went out to dinner and I wound up running away from the Inquisition?" At his nod, I continue. "The two men that they had captured—one of them threw a bag with this book in it at me. I picked it up and ran."
Dham keeps his eyes on the pages. "This is real then?"
"As near as I can tell." I sit down on the bed, leaning against the footboard as Dham peers over it. "I don't understand most of it."
"What were they bringing it here for?" Dham slowly closes the book.
I rub my temples. "I assumed it had something to do with the meeting and the trip to Rome." I pause, lowering my hands to twine around each in my lap. "There's something else too."
Dham looks at me sharply. "What now?"
"A Sniffer." I c
an barely bring myself to say it out loud.
Dham is on his feet in an instant. "Are you nuts?" He begins to pace. "There's a Sniffer involved and you didn't tell anybody?"
I gesture for him to lower his voice. "First off, I didn't know they'd bring in a Sniffer." I tick each point off of my fingers. "Second, it never got a clear enough scent to be able to properly track me. And third, I did a smudging just as soon as I could get away with it. I've been looking for signs of the Sniffer, but it never came back."
"That's not the point!" At my pained look, he lowers his voice again. "That's not the point. You should have told Ryland or Auntie or somebody." He stops his pacing and comes to stand in front of me. "At the very least you should have told me and Cat since it's our scents the thing might have picked up."
I can feel the flush beginning to rise up my neck. I'd never even thought about that. All I had been worried about was myself and finding a way to save Patrick. It didn't cross my mind that I might be putting them in danger. I drop my head so I'm staring at my blanket. "I'm sorry."
Dham plops down on the bed next to me. He sighs and puts his arm around me. "Okay, is that it? Is there anything else we should know about?"
"Aside from the double life I lead as an exotic dancer named Chesty McFunBum? No." I'm not entirely sure where that came from. Maybe being bound to Trick is affecting me in more ways than we both realize.
Dham turns red. "Ha. Ha." He glowers at me. "What do we do now?"
I extricate myself from his arm and answer, "I need to sleep off whatever the after effects of that spell are. Trick told me it would be draining, but I had no idea. I couldn't fight off a kitten in this state."
"And the book?" Dham nods his head at it.
I pick it up and put it back in the spelled bag. "It stays here. We can look through it tomorrow to see if we can find something that will reverse the binding. And I've got notes on the ritual I filched from Ryland. Maybe we can figure out what went wrong." I put a hand to my head. The pounding has lessened but not gone away completely. "In the morning."
Dham nods. "In the morning then."
He walks out, but then stops at the door. He leans into the door frame, but doesn't look at me. "I was worried about you. You know, back there." Green eyes flash up to mine. "I'm glad you're okay."
"I'm glad you're glad." I smile stupidly, unable to stop staring at his lips. "Thanks for everything, Dham."
"I really ho—" he begins but Cat's yell from the down the stairs cuts him off.
"HEY! DHAM!"
"She's looking for you." I smile again at him. He takes a step back and grins back at me. I close the door as he's turning to go downstairs.
Then I collapse into bed and slide into the comforting darkness of sleep.
The Iron Bells Page 33
