by Jayne Faith
“We’re almost there,” I said. “Take a quick break.”
She dropped her magic, and the world sharpened around us. We stood with our backs against the wall, inhaling the faint aroma of trash from the bins farther down.
“Did Stone Face call you ‘daughter’?” Gretchen asked.
My head swiveled, and I peered at her sharply. “You heard that?”
“Well, yeah, I was right there.”
I’d thought he’d spoken too softly for anyone to hear.
“He did,” I said.
“He’s the king of this place?”
“Yeah,” I said reluctantly.
“That would make you a Fae princess.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Well, there’s a possibility. Shit, I don’t know.”
I closed my eyelids and pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes, suddenly wanting to get the hell out of there. A pang of longing for my former life outside Faerie cut through me. I took a slow breath, somewhat consoled by the thought of the money that would come from this mark, which would help me reestablish myself on the other side of the hedge.
“We need to push on,” I said brusquely. “Ready?”
I felt human magic wash through the air, and then everything grew rippled and distorted again.
We ran the rest of the way to the Blue Boar. When the front entrance came into view, a vamp woman and a Fae man were just emerging.
“Holy shit, that’s her!” Gretchen pointed. “The woman, that’s my mark.”
The two of them turned right and began walking away from the Blue Boar. Gretchen and I went to the corner where we could intercept them. She let the invisibility spell drop. They were so surprised when we appeared suddenly in front of them they didn’t have time to react.
Gretchen held up the bounty card, shoving it under the woman’s nose. There was a flash of yellow-orange magic, which expanded in a cloud to surround her. Her fangs popped out, but it was too late.
I gave the Fae man a hard stare. “You’d better run if you know what’s good for you.”
He backpedaled a few steps and then turned and hightailed it away.
The magic from the bounty certificate had positively identified the woman as the mark, and the cloud coalesced around her wrists. It forced them together behind her back. She was young and had that gaunt, malnourished look of someone who’d gotten too deep in the underbelly of society. She struggled, trying to free her arms, but it was useless. When she realized she was done for, she pushed her face out, bared her fangs, and spit at Gretchen, who hopped back to dodge the glob of saliva.
“The spell,” I muttered at her, eyeing the Fae around us.
In a blink, the world turned watery again. The mark gasped, her eyes popping wide.
“We’ve gotta go,” I said.
Gretchen and I took off at a run with Gretchen gripping a fistful of the vamp’s sleeve and trying to hurry her along, but it was quickly apparent that the emaciated girl wasn’t going to be able to keep up for the mile-long trek to the nearest doorway.
“Stop a second,” I said.
I went up to the girl, squatted, and wrapped my arms around her upper thighs. I flexed my legs and quickly straightened to lift her over my shoulder. It wasn’t magic, but physical strength was one of the things my New Garg blood had graced me with.
“Bite me, and I’ll cut your head off,” I growled. I drew magic to form stone armor just in case my threat wasn’t sufficient.
We sped up, flying through the streets. There was a doorway in the woods behind the Duergar palace that I’d used once before.
“I’m going to have to take you through to the other side of the hedge,” I said to Gretchen, my words jarring each time one of my boots hit the ground. “You can’t order a Guild transport for a capture from within Faerie.”
“Damn, that’s right,” Gretchen said.
“Yeah, that detail slipped my mind, too.”
But it would be better this way. I could rejoin Jasper and put this capture behind me, knowing that a nice chunk of cash would soon be warming my bank account.
We stopped once within the cover of a ruin of an old barn so Gretchen could release the spell for a minute. I set the mark on her feet. She still seemed dazed.
“What’d she do, anyway?” I asked Gretchen.
“Dealing VAMP3 blood,” she said.
My brows rose. “That was my last mark’s crime, too. Coincidence, or is it becoming a bigger problem?”
Gretchen stared at me. “You haven’t heard? There were two dozen slaughtered at a Vegas club last week. A bachelor party came in hopped up on VAMP3, and several of them went feral.”
My chest clutched as I contemplated so many dead. I let out a low whistle. “I’ve been in Faerie the past few weeks. Not much news filters through from the other side of the hedge into the fortress.”
Type 3 vamps, like New Gargoyles, were a product of the Cataclysm. A new form of the vampire virus had spread through the population, infecting people at random. VAMP3s were charming to the point of being almost impossible to resist, if you were a human with no defenses against glamour. They were able to walk in sunlight and could keep their violent sides under control. Unlike VAMP2s, who were required by law to have an implant that controlled their raging bloodlust.
VAMP3s were naturally less dangerous than VAMP2s in terms of bloodlust, but apparently VAMP3 blood was growing in popularity. It gave a soaring high, as well as imparting the VAMP3 powers of charm on the user. But after a few highs, it turned some users into mindless, murderous maniacs.
I went to the mark and slung her over my shoulder again, and this time she didn’t even bother trying to resist. I nodded at Gretchen. “Let’s ride.”
We hoofed it to the doorway under cover of Gretchen’s spell. When she released it again, she looked pale, her blue eyes bloodshot and strained.
“You going to make it?” I asked her, setting the mark on her feet.
Gretchen pressed her lips into a hard line and nodded.
I linked my arm though the mark’s, since her hands were cuffed behind her back, and Gretchen placed her hand on my other shoulder. The doorway was in a huge, old oak. I traced the sigils, whispered the words, and then dragged the mark forward. The three of us passed into the oak and tipped into the void of the netherwhere.
We emerged in the misty late-afternoon light of the San Francisco Bay, at the doorway Jasper, Gretchen, and I had used to go into Faerie earlier that day.
I powered on my phone just to check the time. It vibrated and chimed as it connected with a tower and messages downloaded. I didn’t have time to read them. I only had five minutes to get back to Faerie.
“Thanks for the job,” I said to Gretchen. “Maybe we’ll work together again at some point.”
“Thanks for helping me,” she said.
She gave me a little wave, already pulling out her phone to call the Guild for a transport.
I went back into the doorway, and a moment later stood in the circle of stones in the Spriggan kingdom. I took a slow breath, trying to shake off the events of the past couple of hours. I couldn’t seem to wipe Periclase’s face from my mind’s eye as he loomed over me and called me “daughter.” My skin crawled at the memory.
Shading my eyes against the low-angled sun, I spotted a large, dark shape among the trees nearby. The Great Raven, my ride back to Jasper. It had been waiting for me.
The huge bird hopped forward, cawing and turning its sleek head to peer at me with one black eye. It seemed agitated, though I knew I wasn’t late. It hunkered down and flicked me a glance, indicating I should get on. I jumped onto the creature’s back, quickly settling myself low on its neck between its wings. I held on tight with fistfuls of shining black feathers, my thighs gripping the bird’s back as it pumped its powerful wings.
It flew hard, and tears streamed from my eyes in the blasting wind of its motion. When it began to slow, I scanned the woods. The forest floor was too shadowed this late in the day for m
e to see much below the treetops, but there was a clearing on top of a ridge ahead, and the bird seemed to be aiming for that spot. I didn’t have a good sense of how much progress Jasper had made, as I didn’t know the terrain well enough to recognize where we’d left off.
I spotted him down below and almost lifted my hand in a wave, but then thought better of letting go of my hold when the Great Raven dipped a wing and began to spiral downward. As we descended, I could see better through the late-afternoon gloom.
One side of Jasper’s face was covered in blood.
The Great Raven landed, and I nearly sprawled flat on my face in my haste to dismount and rush to Jasper.
“What happened?” I demanded.
I reached up and grabbed his cheeks, turning his face to look for the source of the blood. It looked like it was seeping from a gash over his ear and temple. There was a smaller cut over his eye.
He winced, but he didn’t pull back out of my grasp.
“It’s nothing, really,” he said, looking sheepish. “Stupid. The sprites chased me down a hill, and I tripped and tumbled about twenty feet. My stone armor protected me from breaking any bones, but the exposed areas of my head took a few hits.”
I let out a breath and stepped back to survey the rest of him just to make sure he wasn’t trying to hide any other injuries. Finally convinced that the cuts, if bloody, weren’t too serious, I nodded.
“Looks like you’ll live, but we at least needed to try to bandage your head,” I said.
“Where’s Gretchen?”
“I left her and her mark in San Francisco.”
“Ah, good.” His golden eyes shone with mild amusement as he scanned me up and down. “And what happened to you?”
I looked down, suddenly remembering my clothes were in shreds from the fight. My jacket had absorbed most of the abuse. But some of the rips in my t-shirt were gaping, revealing bare skin and glimpses of my pale-blue sports bra. Since I’d turned my attention to my clothing, I realized I felt a draft at my back. I turned so Jasper could see.
He let out a sound that was half laugh, half horrified exhalation.
“The top half is completely burned away,” he said.
I faced him again and caught his gaze roaming over the rips in my jeans left by glancing axe strikes. Instead of trying to pretend he hadn’t been looking, his gold eyes rose to mine and the corners of his lips widened slightly. I held his gaze, and something that had only been hinted at before seemed to burn more intensely.
“There was a servitor attack while we were in the Duergar realm,” I said, finally breaking the thick silence between us. I drew magic and formed armor over my upper back so it wouldn’t be completely exposed, just in case we met more sprites, or worse. “Ogres this time, huge and wielding battle axes. The royal army came through with spitfire.” I raised my arm and pointed at my back. “That’s what burned the clothes.”
Jasper’s brow furrowed.
I reached down to rip a long piece from the bottom hem of my ragged t-shirt. I didn’t mention the run-in with Periclase, preferring to avoid the topic altogether for the moment.
“Here, bend down,” I said, holding up the scrap of fabric.
Jasper went onto one knee so I could better reach his injuries, the worry lines smoothing from his forehead as I began to wind the makeshift bandage around his head. I secured the fabric with a knot, tucking in the ends.
He rose before I could move out of the way and stood so near I could see the faint pulse at the side of his neck. His lips parted slightly, and for once it seemed like his usual mild calm had dropped away. In its place was an unexpected intensity.
My breath stilled, and time seemed to slow. For a moment, I was mesmerized by his eyes, and everything in me was calling out for me to lean just a little bit closer. That was all it would take, I could see it in his face. Just the slightest movement from me, and his mouth would lower to mine. That pouty-full lower lip would be between my teeth, and—
I jerked my head back and swallowed hard, suddenly remembering King Periclase’s face looming over me, and what it would mean if his words were true. Periclase was Jasper’s father. If what the Duergar king had said was true, then that meant . . . yeah, that meant Jasper and I were related.
I cleared my throat and took a step back. A flash of disappointment shaded Jasper’s face for a split second.
We needed to find Melusine. I wanted answers.
“We should get moving,” I said. “Are we any closer to Melusine’s hideout?”
Carefully avoiding my eyes, he pulled his raven whistle from a pocket and began turning it in his fingers, focusing on it more intently than necessary.
“The ravens say that way,” he said, pointing. His gaze briefly swung my way but didn’t quite meet mine.
Something had been on the verge of happening between us a moment ago, but I’d cut it off, and he was clearly still mulling that over.
“Let’s go,” he said, his face closed off.
We hiked in silence as the sun lowered in the sky and the air began to cool. Every so often, a raven came to update Jasper. The minutes stretched on, and neither of us tried to make conversation.
Some small part of me wanted to explain myself, why I’d pulled back. But the larger part of me wanted to sink into my mood and let the implications of my possible Duergar bloodline swirl darkly around in my head. Mostly, I just wanted to know the truth.
Yet another raven alighted and perched on Jasper’s shoulder. After a few seconds, he halted.
I stopped, too. “What is it? Are we close?”
He turned to me, his eyes finally meeting mine. “She knows we’re coming. She’s invited us in.”
Chapter 9
“IS THIS A trick?” I asked, remembering the sting of the sprites’ arrows and Jasper’s suspicion that Melusine had sent them to mess with us.
“I think the invitation is sincere,” Jasper said. “But she may not make it straightforward. You know how the Old Ones have their games and moods.”
“Sun’s going down,” I said. “It’d be good to have a place to shelter, in any case.”
He nodded his agreement and lifted his arm to point down the small slope we stood on. The trees were thinner in that direction, and I could see some of the landscape beyond. The ridges gave way to a meadow filled with tall grass below, and then the woods began again.
“Across there,” Jasper said.
I squinted in the failing daylight and thought I saw faint lights blinking on and off over the meadow.
“Lantern bugs,” I said under my breath. The flashing insects meant there was water nearby.
Jasper was already moving down the slope and didn’t hear me. I caught up with him, and we picked our way through the meadow, around ancient stumps and dry rivulets. About halfway across we did meet up with a winding stream, just as I’d expected. We followed it until we were blocked by a wide pond at the far edge of the meadow. We hadn’t been able to see it from above because of the deep shadows of evening and the tall grass growing up through the water. The lantern bugs had moved back into the trees on the other side.
I leaned over to look in. “It’s not deep here. Only a few inches. Maybe it’s shallow enough to walk across.”
“The mud might suck us right in, though.” Jasper picked up a stick and poked it into the water. It easily sank over a foot. “I don’t like the look of this.”
I swung my gaze left and right. The pond went on as far as I could see in either direction. “Guess we should go around. Pick a side.”
“Let’s go left,” he said. “The meadow is shorter that direction. Perhaps the pond is, as well.”
We jogged along the squishy edge of the pond for about fifteen minutes, and I zoned out a little in the rhythm of our boots hitting the ground. When I refocused and really looked around, something wasn’t right. I slowed and then stopped. Jasper went on a few feet and then turned and came back to where I stood with my hands planted on my hips.
“We’
re not any closer than we were,” I said, turning a slow circle.
“What?”
“Look.” I pointed across the pond at a gnarled formation that had once been a tree but was now dead wood. “See that crag? It was right across from us when we reached the pond. Before we ran along the edge for a quarter of an hour.”
He cocked his head as he peered across the water and then sent long looks left and right. “Damn,” he said softly.
“I think Melusine wants us to go across,” I said. “I think we’re supposed to follow those lantern bugs.”
As if in response to my words, the insects began to blink on and off more rapidly and move in more agitated patterns.
The sun had set, and the light around us was failing. I was really regretting wasting the last few minutes of visibility on a fruitless jog through some kind of magical illusion.
“I’ll call a Great Raven to ferry us across,” he said and pulled out the whistle.
He blew into it, several short puffs. We both turned, looking for a great bird approaching. A couple of minutes ticked by and no Great Ravens appeared. I frowned, suddenly realizing that the smaller ravens hadn’t come to chatter at Jasper since we’d entered the meadow. He whistled again.
“What does it mean if they don’t come?” I asked.
“Either they’re all occupied or they can’t hear my call.”
We waited another few minutes, but the sky remained empty.
“We could try going back the other way. Perhaps we simply chose incorrectly,” Jasper said.
“We should be able to find out pretty quick.”
I began running back the way we’d come, and he fell into an easy lope beside me. After about five minutes, it was obvious we would fare no better in this direction. The crag was still opposite us across the water.
We stopped, and Jasper muttered a few choice curses under his breath. We stood side-by-side at the edge of the water, the soles of our boots sinking an inch into the soft ground.
“No point in wasting more time,” I said and took a long step into the murky pond.
Jasper followed, and within half a dozen steps, I was in deep enough for the water to come up and over the tops of my boots. I grimaced as they flooded and suddenly weighed about ten more pounds apiece.
