“No thanks. I’m not doing that.”
She commands . . .
“Maybe you. Not me.”
“It is all right, our loyal servant. There is no need for anger.”
Damn. She’d made me jump. I’d forgotten that she could send a projection of herself into the mortal world through the same spell. The distance she could do that was very limited, but in this case more than sufficient. Her Lady looked very real. I knew that if I extended a hand, I’d touch what felt like actual flesh . . . and I’d also be doing exactly what she wanted me to do.
She started to circle around me, a crooked smile playing on her lush lips. I wasn’t entirely immune to her deathly beauty, but I knew her for what she was. Besides, she wasn’t Claryce.
Even as I thought that, there were subtle adjustments in her face. Right away I saw that she was mimicking Claryce’s appearance. No doubt to soften me up.
Now I knew why she’d made this “visitation.” “Forget it. I don’t even have the card with me. I’ve asked someone to hold it for me and you won’t be able to retrieve it from them.”
“Our darling Gatekeeper, there is more we would want from you than a mere card. So much more we could offer you in turn.” Her resemblance to Claryce became more pronounced. “We have mutual goals, mutual hopes . . . and mutual enemies. A card would give us strength; the Deck would give us everything.”
I was careful to not listen too closely to her voice. Even the tone, the lilt, worked to insinuate itself into one’s mind.
“In case you’ve forgotten, I only have one card.” I refrained from adding something about neither of us playing with a full deck.
She chuckled. “Ah, our darling Gatekeeper, where there was one, now there are two. And the two shall become one. The Deck yearns to be whole once again. It never wished to be scattered. That was done by those who feared its majesty. But you and we . . . as two become one . . . need not fear it. For us . . . it would be welcoming.”
“Sorry. Not interested or even flattered.”
Her Lady didn’t flinch despite my insult to an offer many would’ve gladly taken. “We could even suggest some things the card could provide for your heart. Turn back time and redeem yourself. Save one or many of those of her who came before. Perhaps deal a harsh punishment on he who took their brief existences from them . . .”
She’d gone from trying to seduce me with her body to trying to seduce me with revenge. I suspected the two were pretty similar in her mind. “Again, you’re forgetting I don’t have the one card. It’s in a safe, secure, and faraway place.”
“We know better, do we not?” Before I could realize it was happening, she stroked my cheek. I suddenly felt as if we’d just shared something I should feel extremely guilty about. Something Claryce would’ve never forgiven me for.
“We could teach you so much . . . about the card—”
A savage growl echoed through the old millinery. I sensed Lon shift defensively.
A huge, four-legged shape plunged through Her Lady, making the all too realistic vision ripple and fade away. The shape landed directly in front of the Feir’hr Sein. Lon’s hands came together to form the scythe.
“Beat it!” Fetch snarled at the menacing figure. “Ye are a crasher here! Away with ye!”
Lon didn’t look like he planned on taking Fetch’s suggestion. The scythe rose.
“No, Lon!” I stepped toward. “Get rid of that thing right now! You hear me, Lon?”
With extreme reluctance the Feir’hr Sein finally separated his hands again. He glared at me . . . then whirled about and vanished into the shadows from which he’d emerged.
“He’s gone from here, Master Nicholas! Gone from the entire building!”
“Yeah, but what’re you doing here?”
Ears flattened, he replied, “When ye didn’t return after what seemed a more than reasonable time, Mistress Claryce got concerned. I volunteered to go check . . . just in case.”
“It wasn’t that long!”
“Master Nicholas, ye been down here nearly an hour.”
I grimaced. Time passed differently in Feirie. Either nothing abnormal took place or days, weeks, and even years could pass in the real world and you wouldn’t know until you returned to find everything changed.
Still, while I appreciated what Fetch had done, he’d taken a great risk not only by confronting Lon, but also by leaping into Her Lady’s illusion. Had she been prepared, Fetch might’ve been flayed alive. “Listen, I appreciate what you did—”
“I’d do it again if I just had a chance for her real throat.”
“She’d kill you with a glance.”
“Aye, but if I could get one good bite in, she’d never forget me. Ever.”
I stared at him. “Fetch, what’s this all about?”
He stared back. “Why didn’t ye tell me, Master Nicholas? Why? How long have ye had his tooth?”
The tooth. Because of circumstances, I’d never gotten around to revealing it to him. “It wasn’t on purpose. How’d you find out?”
“Been smelling traces of his scent. Couldn’t figure out why. Finally noticed it coming from your pocket. Nosed the area a bit and realized what it was, may she be damned.”
I retrieved the tooth and showed it to him. He bared his own teeth, but not at me, I knew. At her.
“Who is he?”
“He’s the pack elder, the one to teach us our ways. He’s been so since before ye became Gatekeeper.” Fetch nosed the tooth. A brief whine escaped him. “He’s my grandsire . . . and now he’s dead.”
“Is that what this means?” There’d been times—many times— when I’d wanted to throttle the queen of Feirie. This was one of them. It was made worse by the fact that she’d purposely chosen me to be her messenger. This was her means of not only punishing Fetch for failing her and then joining me, but also for refusing her offer to come back to serve her.
This purge had to end. I just wish I knew how.
“What should I do with this?” I finally added.
Fetch didn’t hesitate. “I’d appreciate it—should we have the chance—that you ask Kravayik to give it whatever his faith allows. I’ll not sully it with any Feirie ritual. That would only honor her.”
Nodding, I pocketed the tooth. “I’ll leave it upstairs and let Kra-vayik know. It’ll be done.” I considered our own near future. “And maybe I’ll ask him to say a prayer for us, as well.”
It would’ve helped my unease if just then Fetch had made even the slightest argument against my thought.
CHAPTER 24
With eyes already watching Holy Name and St. Michael’s, I had no doubt that Claryce’s apartment and likely the Queen Anne were being observed, too. That meant no chance of retrieving the Packard. While the Wills had served us well, where we had to go it would be too noticeable.
That left us the old Model T Quiet had obtained. With him driving, we headed down to the lake. However, as we neared, the one argument we hadn’t been able to settle finally demanded an accounting. Quiet wanted to go charging in the moment the ship arrived. I had other plans, though, which meant it was time to do what I’d suspected I’d have to do all along.
I gave Quiet a hard uppercut, enhanced a bit by the dragon to lay the man low.
“Now he’s truly quiet,” Fetch remarked.
“Stick to the slang,” I warned him, already feeling guilty enough about what I’d done.
“Was that absolutely necessary?” Claryce whispered as we set him in the driver’s seat. “It seemed so damned unfair.”
“I’m probably saving his life. His plan amounted to suicide on his part.”
“And ours?”
I looked directly at her. “You know I’d prefer you stay here.”
“You’ll have to punch me a lot harder than you did him, Nick Medea! Even then, I’ll find a way to follow you.”
I nodded. “I know that, too. I don’t do this lightly. I’ve got this funny feeling I have to bring you with me, Claryce.
It stirred up just before we parked.”
“Do you think it might be Michael?”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.”
She gently adjusted Quiet’s cap, which made me feel even more guilty. “It’s funny, though. I have the same sensation. Enough so I would’ve given you one hell of an argument if you’d really tried to dissuade me.”
I got another tingle that I knew had nothing to do with our conversation. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the sky over Lake Michigan start to seethe.
“I think the Frank O’Connor has arrived.”
We slipped away from the car and headed toward the surging water. I eyed Claryce a couple of times as we neared where I thought our target would reveal itself. My gaze then fell upon a dock supervisor’s office. The door was slightly ajar, which I took as a sign I’d made the right decision after all.
“Claryce. Cortez needs to know where we are so that he can round up these goons working for Galerius. While I keep an eye out, you go call him. That office door is open and there should be a telephone inside a place like that.” I gave her his card. “The number on the back. By the time he arrives with help, the ship should be gone, with us on it.”
Nodding, she made her way to the office. I studied the lake for a few seconds more, then said to Fetch, “Keep an eye peeled. I’ll right back.”
“Aye, Master Nicholas.”
I headed to the office and peeked through the window. Claryce was just picking up the telephone. Satisfied, I checked the door. It’d been open because someone had jimmied the lock.
Eye can fix that. . .
I quietly pulled the door tight, then leaned close to the lock.
A single brief breath using the dragon’s power seared the entire lock, sealing Claryce inside.
Mysterious feelings be damned. I didn’t care if Michael came down with every other angel in tow and told me Claryce had to go with me. I wasn’t about to take her on a ghost ship to meet with Galerius.
I returned to face a wary Fetch. He bared his teeth at me.
“And am I to be next, Master Nicholas? Think ye that I’ll be willing to be cast aside?”
I sighed. “No . . . no, Fetch. Sadly, I need you with me. I really do. It’s you and me.”
He relaxed . . . slightly. “And himself. Never forget that. There’s always himself.”
How sweet of him to think of me . . .
I refrained from commenting on his sarcastic remark. It wasn’t as if he had a real choice. Still, I suspected he had no love for Galerius, who in some ways was more responsible for our fate than even Diocles.
Fetch and I slipped toward the dock area. I wasn’t surprised the place was empty tonight. Someone no doubt had greased palms to keep the place available whenever necessary. The kaiser could’ve sent a fleet of imperial German U-boats through the Great Lakes and down to Chicago’s harbor and officials would’ve found some excuse to have not paid attention at the time. Of course, the worsening weather conditions were enough to give cover for anything tonight . . . which was exactly what they were supposed to do.
The water frothed. I counted half a dozen hoods waiting near the pier. They looked like dime a dozen goons, there just to keep guard and maybe move material.
Then, something I wasn’t expecting broke the surface. Two familiar looking tentacles. I’d assumed I wouldn’t be seeing those after the Triple Man had faded into the card. The goons didn’t seem startled at all, which meant that they were either already well used to such fantastic things or they’d been mesmerized.
But if I thought I’d seen everything, what followed proved to be one of the most unsettling sights I’d come across.
The Frank O’Connor burst into sight.
It thrust out of the water much the way the tentacles had, its bow jutting high into the air before coming down with crash on the surface. The entire ruined vessel settled atop the water, pausing just yards from land. Water dripped off of every part of the resurrected ship, and with the dragon’s vision I could see each section the fire had damaged as well. The Frank O’Connor sat there, a monstrous ghost ship.
I remembered what Barnaby had said about something moving beneath the lake. I’d assumed at the time it’d been the beast. Now I saw that it was more than that. It’d been the ship.
I still wasn’t certain what’d happened with the beast. It appeared to serve Galerius now, and the way it protected the ship I could believe it’d been serving Galerius for a long time. Yet the Triple Man had clearly controlled it.
We continued to wend our way toward the ghost ship. There was only a lone, dim light aboard the vessel, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe that light had something to do with Galerius.
Fetch let out a slight growl. I looked where his nose pointed and saw a couple of hoods with guns patrolling the vicinity. They didn’t move as if hypnotized. There were always those someone like Galerius could find willing to serve the devil himself, Oberon, or any other monster in return for gold or its counterpart.
With the dragon’s vision, I could see that they were likely Irish. While Galerius had been emperor of Rome, he’d in many ways despised the realm he ruled, even threatening more than once to rename it the Dacian Empire and reversing the situation he felt his homeland suffered under imperial rule. That meant that, like Oberon, he apparently preferred dealing with the Irish and the Poles and not the likes of Capone.
Fetch and I waited behind a storage building while the two guards continued passing. That gave me the opportunity to take another glimpse at the Frank O’Connor. That single light remained. I squinted, but even then I couldn’t make out more.
“Master Nicholas . . .”
I instinctively took his warning tone to have something to do with the sentries. Sure enough, they’d made a turn back and were heading toward us.
I signaled for Fetch to back up. Neither of us were worried about dealing with two guards. We just didn’t want to alert anyone else in the process.
Eye can deal with both of them very quietly . . . let me do it. . .
Silence. I knew what he meant and I wasn’t ready to go that far. If we could just knock them out, that’d be fine. I hoped Fetch remembered that too.
The first guard stepped around. I hoped he’d not pay attention until his partner was close enough to reach.
Naturally, that didn’t happen.
He spotted me as soon as I came into range. I grabbed him and pulled him to me. At the same time, I made a barely audible hissing sound.
Fetch knew the signal well. He darted past me as I covered the first guard’s mouth, preventing the hood from emitting more than a muffled grunt of surprise. I heard a thud and another low grunt.
Let me deal with him . . . one little breath . . .
Shut up! I slammed the guard against the wall, then hit him the way I’d done with Quiet. He dropped like a rock.
I immediately rushed to Fetch. He had the other guard on his back. Fetch couldn’t punch him, so instead he had his jaws wrapped tightly around the hood’s throat.
The guard stared up at me with pleading eyes, rightfully fearful Fetch would rip out his throat.
I leaned down and hit him hard.
Fetch pulled his jaws from the incapacitated thug. “Not even a drop of blood, Master Nicholas.”
“You did good, Fetch, I—”
An icy hand grabbed the back of my neck. Every nerve in my body grew numb from the cold. I tried to turn, but my legs didn’t work anymore.
Even as I fell, I heard Fetch snarl. That was followed by a scuffle of sorts . . . and then Fetch’s pained yowl.
Everything went still. My body remained frozen despite my best attempts to summon the dragon’s power.
A hand gripped my shoulder and shoved me onto my back. The hand’s very touch sent a renewed chill through my body.
A figure in slouch hat and coat leaned down close to me.
Of course, he had no face . . . but damned if he wasn’t laughing at me.
He straight
ened again. This time, lacking a piece of wood, he satisfied himself with kicking me in the head until I passed out.
The violent rocking stirred me initially, but it was the burning agony that truly woke me the instant after. I immediately screamed, which in no way mitigated the searing pain.
Someone threw cold water in my face. It made my suffering almost bearable. I struggled to open my eyes.
Four thugs stood around me, one with a bucket. They wore expressions ranging from darkly amused to perplexed. The latter expression I understood. Those two were probably wondering what I found so painful. After all, I was only bound head to toe in wire. While extremely uncomfortable, it shouldn’t have caused me any trouble.
Of course, they lacked any touch of magic which meant that, unlike me, they wouldn’t have been affected adversely by being secured in more black silver than I could recall coming across in my entire existence. Even the fact that, other than my overcoat—which Galerius had apparently made sure they removed—I was still dressed, didn’t dull the mystical metal’s insidious properties in the least.
The agony resurged. It must’ve shown on my face because the hood with the bucket set aside the empty one and grabbed a second. I shook my head, but he threw the contents in my face, anyway.
Eye. . . am . . . helping. . . trying. . . came the dragon’s weary voice.
The pain subsided a little bit. I could think better. I could make better sense of my surroundings.
I was on the Frank O’Connor. Rust covered the metal walls around me. I wasn’t familiar with the Frank O’Connor, but as bad as this room looked, I doubted it’d been part of the original design. Someone had armored the interior and added more compartments. Someone who was obviously Galerius.
The goon nearest the door slipped out. The remaining trio stared at me as if I was an exhibition at the Lincoln Park Zoo. I kept a scowl on my face and continued to watch the door while I worked on some sort of escape plan. I admit I’d never considered this much black silver in my equation, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
A muffled whine tore my attention from the door. Behind me and to my right lay Fetch. Like me, he was bound with black silver, although not nearly as much. Still, without my magical protections to help him, he was suffering badly.
Black City Dragon Page 29
