“It is not safe to be outdoors at this time,” he said.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Are you under attack?”
“Yes,” Litarian said briefly.
“Another band of faerie?” I persisted. It would be useful to know more about the situation here.
“No,” Litarian replied without elaboration. “How do you know that we are fae?”
“I’ve seen faeries before, in my world,” I said.
Litarian did not reply, but his forehead wrinkled slightly.
Something about him reminded me of Gabriel. Gabriel never said two words when one would do.
Inside my belly, my baby fluttered its wings, as if he felt the same sadness I did whenever I thought of Gabriel. My memories of my husband were getting further and further away from me. I never seemed to have time to dwell on the past. The present always required too much of my attention.
Litarian led me to an external staircase that wrapped around the tree until it reached the next level. We followed the stairs up and then crossed the length of the building. I thought we would reenter, as the main body of the house didn’t appear to go any higher, but Litarian followed the balcony to its end and then pointed up.
A rope ladder hung there, leading up to what looked like a small, covered platform.
“You want me to go up there?” I asked.
The platform didn’t appear very large or very stable. Without my wings, it didn’t seem very safe either.
He nodded. “Someone will return for you later.”
I was nearly overwhelmed by the desire to punch Litarian in the gut. It really burned to have to submit to someone else. But there was nothing much I could do about it at the moment. I needed my wings. I’d never escape—or make it to the portal—without them. So I gritted my teeth, grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder, and climbed.
The platform was farther away than it looked. Sweat beaded on my forehead. I couldn’t believe how tired I felt. About halfway up I paused and glanced down. Litarian watched me impassively. Lucifer’s sword glinted in the sun.
I continued up, trying not to think about how far I would fall if I slipped. Litarian didn’t seem like the sort who would catch me unless he was ordered to do so.
I finally reached the top of the ladder, bumping the crown of my head on the platform. There was a trapdoor just above the ladder. I pushed it open and pulled myself through, slamming the trapdoor behind me.
The space was small. Frighteningly small.
The platform was perhaps five feet by five feet, which meant that even with my less-than-impressive height I would not be able to stretch out. There were four beams holding up a little roof, but no walls.
I pressed my back against the tree, feeling dangerously exposed. I’d never been afraid of heights before—how could I be, having spent so much of my life in the air? But my wings were bound and the ground below was much farther away than I liked.
I discovered I was not immune to vertigo.
My leg had healed completely, and my stomach was full. Sleep was what I needed now, but the idea of sleeping on this platform was terrifying. What if I rolled off the side in my sleep? The best-case scenario would be that I’d land on the roof of the tree house below, which would break my fall.
Or, quite probably, my neck.
The sounds of frantic activity below had ceased, and there was no noise from the forest. Even the birds and insects had gone quiet. The air was heavy, hushed with waiting. I folded my hands over my belly. My eyes drifted closed.
I heard Gabriel’s voice in my head saying, “Things are not as they seem.”
“Where are you?” I called, groping in the shadows. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“You are not alone,” another voice said.
A figure rose out of the darkness, sheathed in flame, its eyes two pools of exploding stars. “You will never be alone again.”
The figure reached for me, hands drenched in fire. I was drawn to the flame, even as I shrank from it in terror. There was a keening cry, something metallic and alien, and my eyes opened.
My clothes were soaked with sweat, and my face felt as though it had been singed by flame. My son beat a rapid tattoo in my belly. It was full dark.
The moon had risen over the trees and shafts of white light filtered through the branches. I was surprised that I had gone to sleep. I thought my fear of falling was greater than my exhaustion.
The alien cry echoed through the forest again. I realized it had not been part of my dream as I’d thought but had woken me from sleep. The sound was vaguely familiar. It fluttered at the corner of my brain, just out of reach. I knew what made that sound. I just couldn’t remember.
A flock of birds suddenly rose into the air from their roost nearby, several of them flying straight at me in their panic. I flattened myself on my belly against the platform, not wanting my eyes to be pecked out by some crazed bird. The crown of my head stuck out over the edge.
My own wings were cramping from being tied together for so long. I pressed uncomfortably into the wood, waiting for the birds to pass by, burning with jealousy at their freedom. My personality is really not well suited to being a prisoner.
After a while the flapping and the chirping stopped. I eased forward an inch or so until I could peek over the edge. Far below, I could see the shadows moving, the silent warriors returning.
A glad cry was raised, and torches were lit in greeting. It was difficult to tell from that distance, but several of the faeries seem to be covered in blood. None of them seemed to be seriously wounded, and no one was carrying the dead home. Either they had left the corpses behind or the attack had just been a skirmish.
I wondered what had panicked the birds, though. The faerie seemed to slip through the woods unobtrusively. There must be another predator out there. I stared hard into the foliage, but couldn’t see anything. The forest kept its secrets.
Now that I was awake, I was hungry again. And thirsty. No one was going to send room service to me in the middle of the night, so I was just going to have to deal with the discomfort. I pushed up to a kneeling position and carefully eased back against the tree.
My mind buzzed with questions. What had happened in this place between Lucifer and these fae? Why was the world closed to others but I had been able to arrive? How far was I from my own home? And most important—had Nathaniel known where he was sending me, and if he did, why here? If he didn’t, then how did I end up in another dimension where Lucifer was not only known, but despised? Was it nothing but bad luck, or was I a magnet for Lucifer’s enemies? Did my blood draw me to them, ensuring that I would never have any peace?
I couldn’t do much about philosophical questions regarding my unlucky bloodline. There was no way to determine Nathaniel’s trustworthiness from here. What I could do was find out what had happened between these fae and Lucifer. And I had to gain their trust so that my wings could be released, but I couldn’t wait forever for that to happen.
When I’d left Chicago, Puck, Alerian and Lucifer had met for the first time in centuries. I didn’t think it was a good idea for the three of them to run around unsupervised for long. And twice since coming here I’d dreamed of Gabriel warning me that “they” were not to be trusted.
Did he mean the fae, or was he warning me of others I had not yet met? Was I actually hearing Gabriel speaking to me from beyond the dead, or was it all just a projection of my anxieties?
Usually when I had this many questions, I took action. I tracked somebody down. I followed clues. I smashed and burned things. I smote my enemies. At the moment there was nothing for me to do except cool my heels.
Unless I wanted to use my power to terrorize the fae, burn down their village and slaughter them one by one until they gave me what I wanted—my wings. But that seemed like the sort of thing a bad person would do. Someone like Lucifer. A monster.
I was still trying hard to be a good guy. According to Beezle, the jury was out on whether or not I was succe
eding. Killing a bunch of innocents just so I could get my way would definitely cross a line.
So I waited. The moon set. The sun rose. My eyes remained open. As the first rays of sunlight touched the tops of the trees, I thought I saw a figure moving among the branches. Aside from my physical discomfort, the sensation of being watched made it impossible for me to fall back asleep.
Whatever was making the back of my neck prickle was probably the same creature that had disturbed the birds earlier. It was just a flash of something green. It might have been nothing but a branch moving. Or it might have been yet another creature that wished me harm.
My throat was scratchy from lack of water. The fae clearly thought it was fine to live on mead or whatever had been in my cup yesterday, but I was having elaborate fantasies about a truckload of iced bottled water falling from the sky.
Barring that, I’d settle for some rain. Surely the water gods wouldn’t have dominion over flying drops from the clouds. But the sky was clear and cloudless, and no relief was coming from there. So I waited. And waited.
The sun rose higher. I got more hungry, more thirsty, and a headache built behind my eyes. There was very little movement from below.
The whole village seemed subdued. I started contemplating doing something stupid, like climbing down through the porthole, blasting nightfire at whoever stood guard and then taking Batarian hostage until he released my wings.
I heard movement on the walkway below and leaned carefully out over the edge to see.
Litarian was crossing underneath the platform, carrying a bowl and a cup. I was trying to figure out how he would get up the ladder with that stuff when a rope flew up from beneath, wrapped around one of the poles holding up the roof, and returned to Litarian’s waiting hands.
He placed the bowl and cup inside a sack and tied the sack to the rope.
“Won’t that spill everything?” I muttered, but the sack was already on its way up to me.
The bag was made of soft, aged leather. I unknotted the tie at the top, expecting to see the contents slathered all over the inside. But the bowl and cup rested neatly on the bottom, almost as if Litarian had placed them on a tray and carried them to me.
I took out the bowl, which had something oatmeal-porridgy in it. The cup was filled with the same honey-colored mead drink I’d had the day before.
Once I’d emptied the bag, Litarian yanked on the rope until the sack returned to him. He coiled up the rope and continued without so much as a nod.
“Well, good morning to you, too,” I said loudly.
I tipped the bowl toward my mouth—Litarian hadn’t bothered to provide a spoon—and tentatively tasted what was inside.
The porridge was good, kind of nutty, and seemed to have been cooked in milk. I gulped down the mead, though it was very unsatisfactory and left me feeling more thirsty than before.
The silence of the forest was broken by another of the eerie, metallic cries that had interrupted my sleep. This time another voice joined in, and then another, and another.
The sound seemed to worm inside my ear and permeate my brain. I threw myself on my belly and covered my head with my arms, trying to block out the noise. It grew louder and louder as more voices joined the chorus. Below, the faerie were running to and fro again, as they had the day before.
However, the warriors did not enter the forest. They set up a perimeter around the village and waited, watchful and still. The alien song grew louder, more persistent, and I knew that whatever made that noise approached the village. It was an army, and the fae were ready for war.
The pain in my head made my eyes squint. Just as the song reached a crescendo, it suddenly stopped. I raised my head, my breath held. The first creatures leapt from the forest, a poison green blur.
The fae fired arrows, and when the creatures were close enough the warriors pulled out daggers for hand-to-hand fighting. Both the fae and their enemies moved so quickly that I couldn’t easily identify the creatures.
After a few moments I realized what they were, and why their cries were so familiar to me.
Just before I had given up my Agent’s status forever, I had lost a soul named Jayne Wiskowski. She had been killed by one of these monsters, which looked like giant preying mantises. When I’d fought with the overgrown insect, it had threatened me, told me it was the vanguard of a vast army to come.
I’d never discovered who had sent the thing. Shortly after that I’d killed my father and defeated a city full of vampires, so I never gave the bug another thought.
At the time I’d assumed it had been sent by Azazel or Titania, and I had not seen another one since. Until now.
But how had a creature from this world wound up in Chicago? One of my enemies had to have a way into and out of this place, despite Batarian’s insistence that the borders of the world were closed, even despite the evidence of my own magic, which would not create a portal for me to leave.
There was a way, but who controlled it? Whoever it was would not be friendly to me, for sure. The mantis I had killed had told me that Jayne Wiskowski’s death had simply been a way to get to me. That girl had died for nothing, just another casualty in an ongoing war.
The revelation of my blood ties to Lucifer had caused me to accrue more enemies than any one person should have, and they were here even in this strange place.
Why, why, why had Nathaniel sent me here? It was disturbing to think that I had shared intimacies with him and that he had still managed to trick me, to betray me.
Of course, it was possible that he hadn’t betrayed me at all, that this was all just a coincidence. It was hard for me to buy that, though. Coincidence didn’t play a huge role in my life. Pretty much everything that happened to me was by somebody’s design.
I didn’t know whether the collection of mantises below was their entire population or just a small portion of it, but there seemed to be a lot of them. And the fae did not appear to be doing very well.
I remembered fighting the mantis myself, remembered the tough carapace that resisted the blade of my sword. The only part of the insect that was vulnerable was its joints.
The fae bowmen were excellent shots. I saw more than one mantis fall after a perfectly placed arrow pierced its neck. But the trouble was that there were a lot of mantises, and it took time for even a preternaturally fast archer to nock the arrow, draw the bow, and let it fly.
The end result was that the faerie were falling as fast as the insects. I didn’t know whether the fae here were my enemies or my friends. The only faerie I’d ever met who hadn’t tried to kill me was J.B. But I knew the insects were definitely not the good guys.
So I could help the fae, if they would let me. I scrambled back to the trapdoor, opened it, and peered down the ladder. As I expected, no one was guarding me. They had their hands full with the insect attack.
I climbed down the ladder to the balcony on the third level. There was no one on this floor as far as I could see. They were all down below, fighting, protecting their children, building fortifications to prevent the insects from climbing into the tree.
I’d never tried this spell from a distance. Usually I was in a hand-to-hand situation when I decided to set something on fire. I didn’t want to accidentally hit any of the faerie, so instead of targeting the insects in the fray, I aimed for a group of mantis that were just emerging from the forest.
I took a deep breath, felt the power of the Morningstar flow through me, and let the lightning fly. Electricity crackled through the air, leaving behind the scent of ozone. It slammed into the knot of mantis, which screeched and fell to the ground, their flesh smoking. The air filled with the scent of burning insect.
Several of the mantis screamed and pointed upward at me, and a number of the fae turned to look as well. From this distance, I couldn’t tell whether they were scared or grateful. I almost didn’t care which it was so long as they realized I was not to be trifled with.
Besides, it felt so good to release some of the magic th
at had built up inside me. I hadn’t realized it was like bottled tension, that the breadth and depth of the Morningstar’s power was so huge that it needed to be released at regular intervals. Normally I was fighting bad guys on a regular basis, so I had more than enough opportunities to blow off some steam.
Even before I’d come into my legacy from Lucifer I’d had an Agency pickup at least once a day. I’d always been able to release my magic before it got too dangerous. I hadn’t even known it was dangerous.
I wondered how Lucifer dealt with this. Maybe after so many millennia it didn’t bother him anymore. Or maybe he had some secret outlet for his magic. It was slightly amusing to think of Lucifer hanging out in space somewhere, smashing planets just to get rid of his pent-up energy.
Amusing, and more than a little frightening.
I continued blasting at the insects for a few more moments, taking down several of the creatures and evening up the odds for the fae.
Finally, one of the creatures gave out a call, and the remaining mantis—the ones fighting hand to hand with the fae—retreated into the forest.
The exhausted warriors below turned as one body to look up at me. They did not seem grateful. They looked frightened, or angry, but none of them looked ready to thank me.
I curled my fingers around the banister, magic still humming under the surface of my skin. The urge to take off, to disappear into the sky, was tremendous. My wings strained against the tether that bound them. As it had when my wrists were tied, the cord seem to grow tighter with my struggles, to squeeze more painfully.
My palms were smoking against the wood of the railing. It didn’t hurt, but when I lifted them away I could see the imprint of my hand charred into the surface.
There was a pounding of feet from both sides of the walkway as fae poured up the stairs. They were coming for me.
I stood still and waited. I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t fly away. All I could hope was that Batarian would interpret my actions as trustworthy.
The fae appeared on either side of me, Sakarian leading one group and Litarian the other. Sakarian looked wary, but defiant. Litarian appeared unruffled as always. He held a coil of rope in his hands.
Black Heart Page 6
