by Patti Larsen
Liam’s answering smile faded, the sparks of green in his eyes dim. “Friend,” he said, picking out the one word that made everything uncomfortable between us again.
And then surprised the hell out of me by smiling anew.
“I need to apologize to you,” he said, “for being such a loser weirdo lately.” I tried to shake my head but he pressed his fingers to my lips, eyes full of laughter. “Don’t you dare,” he said. “I’ve mastered moping angst. Don’t take that accomplishment away from me.”
I giggled. “You’re the best I’ve ever seen,” I said.
Liam bent and kissed my forehead, arm loose around my shoulders, safe and warm and gentle. I leaned in, pressing my nose to his soft shirt, allowing Shaylee to embrace him fully as he spoke.
“I saw you earlier,” he said. “When I was delivering some last-minute things to Odhran and Niamh.” He paused. “I wasn’t spying, I swear. But you were with the Steam Union guy.”
Oops. My mind raced over Piers’s and my last meeting. Did he kiss me?
Yikes.
But Liam’s reaction didn’t go where I expected it to take him. “I’m done putting pressure on you,” he said. “It’s your life, Syd. And even though I love you, it’s your choice.” He pushed me back a little, face no longer sad, though I could feel the softness of his edges, the way his power sank into the ground.
And realized then what I’d never seen before. What no one in my family understood.
Liam wasn’t weak. Not in the least. He was an old oak tree, with roots buried deep beneath the ground, massive and stable, able to withstand anything. Sure, his bark and branches and leaves were more likely to be damaged, but the core of Liam O’Dane was as solid as the earth itself.
“I love you,” he said. “And no matter what you decide, I’ll always be your friend.” He patted my knee with his free hand. “I want you to do what’s best for you.”
Sweet. So. Sweet.
“What if I don’t know what’s best for me?” I suddenly felt tiny in the massive shade of his power, still seeing him as a towering oak, wanting to lie against him and absorb the quiet peace of his nature.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said. Kissed me softly, the touch of power sliding between us tasting like a spring morning. “You always do.” Liam stood up, helped me to my feet. “I have to get back to the archive,” he said. “Can I bring you anything the next time I come?”
There was no way anyone could possibly be as amazingly nice as him and live.
And yet, here he was before me.
I hugged him, let him go. “Thanks,” I said. “Just keep Galleytrot in line and check on Gram and I’m good.”
Liam’s lips twisted. “I’ll do my best for the first,” he said. “And the second… Ethpeal might not like me, but I respect her, Syd. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”
I watched him go, heart swelling, choices narrowed, still trying to decide if love was worth it.
“How nice to see you again.” Vasyl stepped from the shadows, interrupting my joyful moment. Made me instantly cranky. His shaved head shining in the witchlight as I scowled into his shark eyes. My demon made plans to tan his hide for a jacket after she'd killed and eaten him.
“I can't touch you now,” I said. “But conclave won't last forever, sorcerer.”
Vasyl shrugged, a languid movement, not a trace of concern on his angular face.
“Liander told me you would bluster and threaten,” he said, accent smoothed out more than the last time I spoke to him. And, on using Belaisle's name, confirming what I already knew. “I told him you were above that. Alas, I was mistaken.”
A string of swears coursed through my thoughts as he went on.
“He wished me to pass on a message.” Vasyl leaned closer, lips curling his thin mustache and goatee into a devilish mask. “That he will see you soon and cannot wait to catch up.”
“If your main job here is to piss me off,” I said, “you suck at it.”
I was a terrible liar.
Vasyl laughed, stepped aside. Gestured for me to pass. Which I did, the back of my neck prickling with nerves. But I refused to look back, my feet stomping all the way to the opening of my tent.
Where I found Piers lurking.
Made me think of Liam and pissed me off even more.
“This better be good,” I said.
One of his eyebrows shot up, voice mild as he spoke though his words had sting.
“As long as you consider the safety of this conclave ‘good,’” he said.
Zing.
“Whatever.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I just got through having a bully wrestling match with Vasyl Krajnik, so bear with me.”
Piers nodded. “He has that effect on me, too. But we don't have time for your temper.” He stepped closer, real concern on his face. “I've just heard from Els.” His friend, Ellis. “His network claims the Brotherhood has finally surfaced.”
Okay, good. Very good. And very, very bad.
“What does surfaced mean?” I picked at the velvet of my skirt as my mind churned.
“Large groups are mobilizing out in the open,” he said. “Gathering.”
For an invasion? I reached for Galleytrot, felt Liam connect through their power as he approached my house. Be on guard, I sent. Something may be coming your way.
We’re on it, they both sent before the hound spoke up. Brotherhood?
I hope not. I cut him off as I returned my full attention to Piers. “We need to tell Mom.”
He waited, jaw working, as I reached for her. She listened, intent, as I told her what Piers told me.
No indication of their goal? I could feel her moving, leaving a crowd of other magic, probably going to her makeshift office.
Not according to Piers, I sent. But his sources seem to think they are preparing for something.
My Enforcers are ready, Mom sent, though the worry in her voice mirrored mine.
Mom, I sent. How can they be? They have no defense, remember?
Her frustration poured over me like a cold shower. I know, she sent. But what else can I do?
I'm coming to you, I sent. Call for Eva Southway. It's time witches and sorcerers worked together.
Mom's affirmative touch ended as she broke from me.
Just as the wild magicks appeared in a swirl of power.
So frantic this time, their touch stung, grabbed my power, jerked me forward—
—into darkness, the flash of glass, the sound of marching feet, Belaisle's face. And, in his hand—
The shard of a mirror. A mirror I'd seen before. Used to travel.
From the Enforcer stronghold.
My chest squeezed tight as I emerged from the vision, the magicks's panic taking over.
I understood their message. All the images fell in to place, even as I turned and ran for the main pavilion, screaming for Mom in my head.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
I was so freaked out I didn't even think of the veil, instead running flat out with Piers beside me through the front of the large pavilion and to Mom's office.
Almost colliding with Pender as he appeared in a flash of blue fire at her door.
Gasping for air—I really had to start jogging again—I clutched at Pender's sleeve, heart pounding so hard in my chest I could barely think.
“The shards,” I said as I pushed the tall Enforcer leader through Mom's door. She rushed forward, eyes locked on me as I panted and spoke again. “The mirror shards. Are they all accounted for?”
Pender's frown of confusion turned to worry as he immediately fished into his robe and retrieved his. I'd seen it before, knew now there were many such shards, doorways to the Enforcer stronghold.
To the place the battle between Dark and Light would be fought.
I showed them both what the wild magicks had shared with me while Piers stood, silent and tense, at my side.
Pender's face paled as the image of Belaisle holding a shard flared a moment b
efore fading. “All of the fragments are in safe hands,” he said. Didn't sound convincing to me. “But I'll check in with them all anyway.”
“Pender,” Mom said. “Are there any unaccounted for? Lost or rumored?”
To that he shook his head. “None,” he said. “The stronghold is secure.”
For now. But I was certain the wild magicks were warning me for a reason.
Pender left, shoulders tight under his heavy robe, power flaring as he left the pavilion. I crossed to a chair in Mom's office, sinking into it as Piers came to stand behind me.
“Perhaps a meeting of the minds wouldn't be untoward at this point, Council Leader?” I felt his hands settle on my shoulders, the touch of his sorcery following after.
Mom nodded, brows pulled together as she did. “I was thinking the same thing. If the two of you would kindly go secure a place we can talk unnoticed?”
Somewhere not here. Made sense.
“The Steam Union would be more than happy to host,” Piers said. “And our power will be more than enough of a deterrent to prying magicks.”
Perfect. Except, of course, I’d just run, screeching for Mom, through the conclave grounds. Way to keep things under wraps, Syd. Still, I was sure no one knew why and, hopefully, I could put my panic off to my natural weirdness and no one would notice.
Mom seemed to think along the same lines as me. “Please tell your mother how delighted we are she's invited us to come to your pavilion for a visit.” I felt her power relax as she spoke, realized she had to know there were spies among us, giving them enough information to keep whoever needed to know just enough to satisfy curiosity.
She might have seen eavesdropping as par for this particular train wreck, but if I caught anyone snooping they'd be relocating to a new area code.
Two new area codes. Their ass would be moving on alone.
Eva Southway didn't look surprised to see Piers and I and I could only assume he managed to warn his mother before we swept through the front of the pavilion.
“Coven Leader Hayle,” she said, spiked blonde hair shining in the witchlight, gray eyes flat, but not unpleasant. “Welcome.”
I wondered if she'd still look at me the same way when this little meeting was over.
Mom arrived next, sweeping through the entry like she owned the place—which I did, thank you very much—but with a gracious smile and a warm greeting for Eva.
“You remember my husband, Felix?” Eva gestured to the tall, handsome man with the dark hair and thick beard. He bowed over Mom's hand before doing the same to mine. “And our daughter, Clover.” I remembered the beautiful young woman with the thick, black hair, a match for her father. I thought her Piers's girlfriend when we'd first met and almost tore him a new one over the poor thing. Her sweet smile and little curtsy were meant to be endearing, I guessed.
Cute and all, but not distracting enough to take away from the more eager antsy pants dance going on in my stomach.
Meira arrived on the veil, alone, about a heartbeat after Mom shook Clover's hand. Though she'd grown to be far more diplomatic and steeped in politics than me since moving to Demonicon, from the scowl on my sister's face, she wasn't in the mood to play.
“Mom said this was important.” She hugged me swiftly, nodded to the Southways. “The Brotherhood?”
I shrugged as the air beside me shuddered into shadow and Sunny and Uncle Frank appeared.
“Thank you for allowing us through your shielding,” Sunny said at her most queenly. Eva nodded graciously.
“I assumed there wasn’t need for the entire conclave to know we were having this little tête-à-tête,” the Steam Union leader said. “We're awaiting a few more?”
A flare of green power answered her question. I gritted my teeth only to sigh in relief as Odhran and Niamh stepped through. Alone. No Aoilainn.
“We thought it prudent to leave our counterpart out of this discussion,” the Unseelie Queen said.
Brilliant.
Which left Charlotte and Oleksander, who sauntered into the tent as though only paying a casual visit, their cheerful false greetings turning to grim silence as Charlotte came to my side, her towering grandfather crossing his massive arms over his broad chest.
“We're only waiting on Pender,” Mom said.
“I'll seal our shielding anyway,” Eva said. “I take it there is information we can have now, while we wait?”
“Exactly.” I stepped forward. “Here's what we know.” I just reached the part where the wild magicks had a message for me when they appeared in a flurry of fear. I registered the gasps of surprise from the others and reached for the gathered magic users with my various powers, feeling my egos latch onto and connect with their counterparts. The family magic took hold of Charlotte and Oleksander even as the wild magicks began their show all over again.
We all saw it this time, right from the beginning. I had no idea why their freedom was such an important part of the story, but they seemed keenly attached to the beginning, seeing me, the broken machine. And then, the flash of a mirror before being engulfed in darkness. Coming out of the black again.
To Liander Belaisle, smirking, laughing. Holding a shining glass shard in his hand.
They released us in a flare of power. I staggered back, expecting them to flee, but they didn't, instead heading for the front of the tent to swirl around Pender who dashed, panting, into our midst. They spun in circles, touching him, as his anguished face locked on Mom's.
“Talcort is missing,” he choked. “He was a fragment holder and I've been unable to reach him.”
Mom's pale face remained stoic as she nodded. “How long?”
“I don't know.” Pender's hands shook as he pushed his hood back, running them through his thinning hair. “He was fine. I spoke to him myself this morning.”
No one had a chance to ask questions. Still connected to me, their magicks woven through mine, the others felt Demetrius reach for me and fell still as the wild magicks wailed softly, musically.
Sadly.
Demetrius's mind locked in place with mine and—
—I could suddenly see through his eyes, disoriented from the change in perspective. I felt his mind fighting itself, struggling for control over the insanity trying to pull him into darkness. I boosted his power, felt him stabilize, the hug of his gratitude, before I actually paid attention to what he saw.
The edges of his vision were hidden inside a hood, head down, the sight of many feet before him, all draped in dark cloaks. In a stone room somewhere. The sound of a voice I knew jerked his head up.
Liander Belaisle stood only a few feet away, smiling, holding up the fragment of mirror. “The time has come, my brothers and sisters,” he said. “To take what is ours. Are you ready?”
They roared their approval as Demetrius shuddered, fighting the need to press his hands over his ears. I helped him, calmed his heart even as mine, back in my body, fluttered like a dying bird.
The shard of glass flashed, a large opening appearing on the stone wall before the gathered sorcerers. Demetrius looked right, left, as if to show me what was coming.
Hundreds of them. Eager faces, twisted in hate and anticipation.
Oh. My. Swearword.
He marched with them, through the doorway to the stronghold plane, emerging through the giant mirror used as the main entry. Those ahead of him already fought the few Enforcers standing guard, but from the sadness in Demetrius's mind, I knew the outcome was inevitable.
They fell, the guardians left behind, under the power of the invading Brotherhood army.
Demetrius slipped to the left, out of the main line of marching sorcerers, slipping into a side alcove. His view was partially blocked by the doorway he peeked around, but I saw enough.
Enforcers came running and were taken down, their old faces crumpling in despair as they fell. Younger ones too, trainees from the look of them, dragged forward with bloodied and battered wounds, to be corralled with sorcery while Belaisle looked on.
<
br /> And he wasn't alone, standing there all triumphant. Alison stood with him, a swirling mass of echoes floating above her. And, her pale face covered in her hands as her wide eyes stared in shock, Mia.
“Finally,” Belaisle said. “Bring them.”
A handful of sorcerers forced the gathered Enforcers forward, shoving them onto their knees to face the leader of the Brotherhood. I felt Demetrius whimper, heart clenching against what I guessed was coming.
Not even Belaisle was that much of a monster. These were old people and kids.
Please, no.
Belaisle's sorcery lashed out, wrapping around the group, pulling at their power. Mia cried out, turned away, Alison watching with dull dispassion as the Enforcers screamed in pain, collapsing under the siphon of their magic.
I watched him drain them of their lives through Demetrius's eyes, saw them crumble and fall to the ground, eyes staring, glazed, empty as, one by one, they died.
In a flash of hate-filled action, Alison lunged and gathered the fleeing echoes to her, forcing their remains into the swirling mass of ghostly shapes she already controlled.
Someone in the room with me at the pavilion choked on a sob, but I was still with Demetrius, locked into him, watching. Assessing past his need to grieve and sink into the black of insanity.
I felt his embrace, lost sight as he ducked into darkness—
—and left me.
I shook my head to clear it, entire body trembling as I looked around at the shocked, horrified and grief-stricken faces around me.
Cringed in agony as Pender Tremere cried out and fell to his knees, sobbing his despair while the wild magicks sang sorrowful counterpoint.
***
Chapter Twenty Four
“It wasn't the conclave Belaisle was after,” I whispered. “It was the stronghold.”
Mom cleared her throat, tried to speak. Fell still.
I was such a fool. Idiot, moron. Why had I not considered this? Belaisle knew as well as I did where the last battle of ours was to be fought. And, until now, that battleground was in the hands of my allies.
