“All his needles are broken. He’s breathing and he has the most beautiful lips. More beautiful than the archduke’s and—”
“Lonica!” I screamed. “Let go of me!”
Her mouth dropped open and she let go. I ran by her to my room. I could feel her behind me. All those long branches make quite a breeze. I grabbed my doorknob, opened the door the smallest amount possible and darted inside. Not fast enough. Lonica squeezed right in. She was tall, but very skinny.
She ran to my bed and pointed at the trundle bed, visible beneath. “He’s under there.”
“I know.”
“How’d you think they got him in here? He’s big. People would notice if you brought a body in,” she said, watching me pull out supplies of herbs and Grandma Vi’s bag.
“I know.”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making tea.”
“You’re making tea at a time like this?”
I ignored her, got a teapot filled it with water, and started pulling out all the herbs that had helped the cardinal. Burdock, dandelion root, white willow, ginger had helped in different preparations. They should be fine together, if not tasty.
I measured out the proper amounts into the pot and stuck my finger in.
“Eww,” Lonica said. “What are you doing?”
“Look. This is going to go better if you just be quiet,” I said.
“There’s a body under your bed!”
“I know. I put it there.”
“Why? How’d he get here?” She was getting all frantic. Her branches were swinging all over the place, smacking into the walls and knocking my medicines over.
“I’ll tell you, if you promise to be quiet,” I said.
“I promise. But quiet for what? I don’t understand what you put in that pot. Why are you making tea? Who’s the tea for? Why’d you put your finger in it?”
“It works better that way,” I said.
“Who’d want to drink tea that had your finger in it?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“We should get the cathedral guard. That dryad has been in a battle. I just know it.”
“Lonica!” I yelled.
“Sorry.”
“The Home Depot fairies smuggled Bentha out of France in that box.” I pointed to the toolbox in the corner.
“Bentha?” she asked with wonder.
“Quiet!”
She sucked in her lips and I put my finger back in the pot, but it wasn’t right. My fire came with its usual beauty and intensity, but it didn’t feel right. I couldn’t clear my mind and focus on the task. It was all jumbled up, the cardinal, Bentha, Gerald, the empress. All my patients were right there with me and I couldn’t make them go, so I could have only the cardinal with me. They were there, at me, in me. I couldn’t quell my fear, my anger, my love.
The tears were flowing with the words of the cardinal’s poem as I tried to force all those feelings out of my mind, but they were so strong and I began to realize how much I loved the cardinal, Vienna, and all my patients, even the empress. They weren’t separate. They never were.
I finished with the words, “To live and die for thee,” and great billowing steam came out of the teapot. It gathered and rolled in on itself, spreading like thunder clouds. The cardinal emerged, shining with a golden glow more beautiful than then the spell had ever created him before.
Through his transparent body Lonica stared, her hands pressed over her mouth. I swirled the water one last time and took my finger out. The cardinal stayed and then disintegrated, leaving Lonica and I facing each other in a room that suddenly felt seriously empty.
“What are you?” she whispered.
“A healer,” I said, pouring the thick, golden tea into a traveling flask.
She shook her head. “No. I’ve seen Healer Bauer do spells and nothing like that ever happened.”
“Well…Healer Bauer is kind of old school.”
“What school are you?”
“Er…well…I have to go.” I went for the door, but she stopped me with a strong hand wrapping around my bicep.
“Can I stay with him? Bentha, I mean. I’m a dryad, too. We help each other.”
“Just don’t tell anyone about him. Okay?”
“I promise,” she said and I ran out.
It seemed like that took forever, but it was only a couple of minutes. I ran for the tomb entrance and dove out, snapping out my wings and cleaving big strokes through the cold cathedral air.
I darted into the pulpit and ran through the servants’ hall with the cardinal’s flask banging against my hip. It would work. The cardinal wouldn’t die. I could feel it. I’d never done such a spell before. Even Lonica could see it.
I put on some more speed and ran around the last corner as a terrible feeling of malevolence came over me. I went five more strides before I saw them, standing in front of the cardinal’s door. Iris with her tray and a horen, a female of such glowing beauty that the lighting fungus wasn’t needed. She grabbed Iris and spun her around. My sister screamed and dropped her tray. The teapot shattered on the stone and sprayed shards that hit my stockinged shins as I skidded to a halt.
“Well, well, well, look who it is,” the creature said, pulling Iris back into her chest, extending her claws to press them against Iris’s pale neck.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” I said, thinking fast. This was a new horen, not the female from the mall. This one was fuller with more curves then edges. I’d never seen her before.
“I know exactly who you are,” she said. “A hunter always knows her quarry.”
“Why would you be hunting me? I’m a maid.”
Her well-formed lips pulled back into a tight smile that wasn’t remotely warm. “You aren’t convincing. I wonder that you got away with it. The hair’s a nice touch, although blonde’s not your color. We’ve been searching for a young girl with luminescent wings and a mane of black hair. I thought you’d change the hair, but the wings, that’s not an easy spell to pull off. And you’re not quite so young, are you?”
“I don’t know what you’re going on about.” I allowed myself to look into Iris’s eyes for a second. She was terrified. “Let her go.”
“Your little sister? I don’t think so.” She stroked Iris’s cheek and she shuddered.
“She’s not my sister. She’s the cardinal’s assistant.”
The horen yanked Iris back tighter into her chest and her claws dented her skin. “I’m tired of this game. You’re the kindler and this is your precious little sister, Iris.”
I said nothing.
“Why bother to deny it?”
“I didn’t deny it.”
“So you admit who you are?”
“What does it matter?”
She tilted her head and her cat’s eye pupils contracted. It was way creepy. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I’m the kindler. Happy?”
“Thrilled beyond compare. You made it hard on us.”
Us?
“Months of paying bribes. Killing the uncooperative. Nasty business.”
“I would’ve thought you’d enjoy it,” I said.
“Naturally, but such a waste of time. Would you like your sister back?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s make a deal, shall we? You for her. Simple. To the point. What do you say?”
I crossed my arms. “No.”
“No? You do realize I’ll kill her.”
“It’s what you do, so yes, I get it.”
“I think I’m being more than fair. A life for a life. I’m not even going to kill you. I just want you on our side, a little firepower to help out the cause.”
“Nope. Not interested.” I forced myself to be calm, which I wasn’t. Not even close.
“You’d let her die?” she asked, her lovely face creased in puzzlement.
“You’ll just kill her after you’ve got me contained. I won’t leave Vienna at your mercy for a hop
e that won’t happen.”
“You’re a hard one. They didn’t tell me that.”
“They?”
“My people.” She stroked Iris’s cheek with her nail and a drop of venom oozed out searing a line of pain down her previously perfect skin. Iris shook with agony and her tears pushed the drop off her chin and it went splat on the floor, still smoking. I didn’t react. I barely blinked.
“I haven’t got all day,” I said.
The horen showed her first sign of frustration, a blush went up her long neck and settled in her cheeks. “It’s been decided that you would be a useful tool.”
I laughed. “You think you can use me? Good luck.”
“If we can’t have you on our side, we can at least remove you from the equation. We can’t have you coming after us, going around healing those we’d rather have dead, can we?”
“You’ve tried to kill me before. It hasn’t worked out for you.” Then the truth dawned on me. “Because you know you can’t. Not easily. Not anymore. That’s why you’re trying this.”
She grimaced. “I knew the minute I saw you. They described you as a mere girl. Something happened during our wasted time. You’ve come into your full power.”
I smiled. “You could still try to kill me. Give it a go. You never know.”
“I’m over it. I’m going to kill her. If that doesn’t put you into retirement, we’ll do the little spriggan. Then the little boy. The one my brother missed at the mantel. He’s overdue. There’s always your parents, but you’ve shown them little loyalty. Abandoning them to the mob in Paris was a nice touch. Something I would’ve done. They’re waiting in the Loire Valley to see what you decide. Coercion’s a tried and true method of setting aside a powerful enemy. It’s a close second to death.”
“You haven’t tried it on me.”
“If it worked on an empress, it’ll work on you.”
“The empress? You must not have met her,” I said.
“I have met Empress Marie Karoline, but I was referring to the beloved Sisi.”
Think of something, Matilda. Think.
Nothing happened. Not a single idea. The horen had me, but if I could distract her.
“You killed her son. It wasn’t a suicide.”
She smiled genuinely and she was so beautiful, I found myself dazzled for moment. “No. It wasn’t and we made sure she knew it. She had other children you see and love is the greatest weakness. So she backed off and left the fae in France to their own devices. Just how we wanted it. Mindbenders got the blame. They’re so convenient that way.”
“But then you killed her,” I said. “Why?”
She raised a lovely arched eyebrow. “You figured that out. You’re the first. How did you know?”
“Mindbenders aren’t the killing sort.”
“I wonder how you know that.” She ran another claw down Iris’s blistering cheek and leaked more venom. Iris screamed and it was all I could do to not flinch. “I think I’ll ask your sister before she dies. I imagine she’s just full of information. We could use a mindbender or two.”
“If you kill her, I’ll kill you,” I said.
“We horen are very hard to kill. Haven’t you heard?”
I was about to answer when I saw a flash of black at Iris’s collar. Victory. He pulled himself up and tapped her neck.
The horen leaned over Iris’s head. “I said, haven’t you heard?”
“I could incinerate you,” I said, trying not to look at Victory and give him away.
“It’s been tried by other kindlers in the distant past. Failed. What else have you got? That’s right. Nothing.” She dug her claws into Iris’s neck. The needle-sharp tips began to pierce the skin. “Let’s do this. I’ll kill her and devastate you. If you don’t disappear and give up healing or if you do anything whatsoever for revenge, I’ll have your mother killed and it won’t be quick either. Deal?”
Iris’s lips moved, but I didn’t catch what she said.
“Let me think about it,” I tapped my lips like there was something to think about, and then glanced at Iris.
“Trolls,” she mouthed.
Trolls?
“Call the trolls.”
“Well?” asked the horen.
“I’ve considered your offer and I’ve decided on,” then I screamed, “trolls!”
“What?” yelled the horen. Nice to see her totally startled.
“Trolls!” I screamed again and then I felt it, a sort of concussive feeling in the air behind me.
“What the—” The horen fell backwards as a purple ball hit her in the head, followed by twenty more. The klitzeklein trolls were bouncing off the walls, ceilings, and floor. The horen stumbled around and I dove for her hand at Iris’s neck. I bent back her wrist and yanked Iris away. She collapsed into my arms and I exploded a fireball in the horen’s face, lighting her hair on fire. She screamed and I dragged Iris away through a tremendous deluge of bouncing trolls. I could barely see and they were hitting me like everything else. I stumbled through the halls of the pulpit.
“It’s okay,” I said to Iris, who was still limp but looking up at me with wide eyes. “I’ll get you out.”
I made it around the last corner and saw the exit through a hail of trolls. Where the heck did they all come from? Iris’s hand went around my neck and she said, “Dragons.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Dragons.”
“I’ll get Percy for you. Penelope, too.”
The last of the trolls came in the door and it was clear. I hefted Iris up in my arms and did my best to run for it, but she was so big it was barely a jog. I had to get her to my room. I could treat the burns, the shock, whatever. I got to the opening and looked out for Percy. I couldn’t fly her there. There was no way.
“Percy!” The name had barely passed my lips when I looked out into the nave and saw on the backs of the pews were dragons about fifteen. Not our dragons, a bunch of other species that Gerald would’ve known on sight. At the sound of my voice they turned in unison and cocked their heads sideways to look at me with one eye.
“Oh crap.”
Victory wiggled out of Iris’s collar and hopped onto Iris’s forehead. He pumped his fist and yelled, “They have come!”
The dragons snapped out their wings.
“What the?” I asked.
“The battle is now!” yelled Victory and the dragons took off, darting every which way.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“She didn’t come alone, aunt.”
I nodded. “Of course not.”
As I said it a troop of phalanx, wearing the red cap of the revolution marched out from under a pew and took off their shells.
“Traitors to the empire!” screamed Victory and he took off his shell.
“When did you get a shell?” I asked.
“I made it from my egg.” He jumped off and began yelling orders.
I carried Iris to the edge of the entrance. “Did you know about Victory and dragons?”
Iris didn’t respond. Her mouth was slack and her eyes closed. But there were only little pinpricks on her neck.
“Iris!” I lowered her to the floor and, when I laid her down, I felt a wetness on her hip. The horen had clawed through her dress. I ripped it open and found four punctures. They weren’t deep, but they didn’t need to be. I could see the venom in the holes as it ate away at her life.
I felt someone behind me and turned. It was her, the horen, burned and smoking but still walking with her claws out. “I got her. It won’t be long now.”
“Stay back!” I yelled.
“Or what? I told you I’d kill her and now it’s done.”
“It’s not done. She’s alive.”
“Not for long. I know my venom. And now I have you. I think I’ve changed my mind.”
I pulled farther back with Iris and my foot slipped off the edge of the entrance. The horen’s arms were still perfect. I only needed one. Maybe just a hand. How much of h
er would it take to make the antidote? The arm. Better to have the whole thing.
“You won’t leave her,” said the horen. “Even if it kills you, so I think, let’s kill you.”
She crouched to spring at me, but Victory ran up. “Don’t give it to her, Matilda.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t do it.” He leapt onto my shoulder and ran to my neck, pressing his hands against it.
“Give me what?” she asked, creeping forward and the stench of her burning hair and skin stung my nose.
Victory tapped my neck. “The tea.”
My hand went to my traveling flask without my thinking about it.
“What is that?” she hissed.
“Nothing for you,” I said.
“It’s one of your medicines, isn’t it? Who was it for? The poor dying cardinal.”
“He’s not dying. I killed the archduke.”
“That idiot. I’m not surprised. Give me the flask and I might let you watch your sister die in peace.”
“You feel pain,” I said. It had never really occurred to me before. The horen at the mall hadn’t been much troubled by losing an arm.
“Yes, but I’ll regenerate.”
“Then you don’t need this.”
“I don’t need things. I want them. Give it to me!”
I drew the flask’s strap over my head and handed over the cardinal’s last chance.
I waited for something to happen and nothing did. Typical.
The horen licked her lips in a slow, sensual way and gave out a low moan of pleasure as she tasted the last drop of thick golden tea that had been clinging to her full lower lip like a phalanx to a ceiling.
“Disappointed?” she asked.
Incredibly.
“I hope you didn’t spit in it,” I said with my hand on Iris’s wrist monitoring her pulse.
“Aww.” She held up my flask. “Were you planning on using the rest of it?”
I glared at her. Iris’s heart rate was beginning to slow. I hadn’t the wit left to reply.
“That’s so sad for you.” The horen held up the flask and slowly tilted it. One thick golden drop emerged and fell on the floor.
“Stop or I’ll make you.” I tensed my muscles to leap at her.
Wicked Chill (Away From Whipplethorn Book Four) Page 35
