“Magical fear?” Dante asked.
Elaine nodded. “I think so. A minute or so after the fear and cold arrived, a massive flood of magic poured into the room and these giant shadowy-like things appeared out of nowhere. The slinger set to fighting them off.”
“Brave,” Siobhan said with a nod of approval.
“Charge is an electromancer, and pretty skilled,” Elaine said. “But he didn’t get more than a couple shots out before the door blew open and these four kids and a huge dog rushed in and started attacking the shadows. Three kids were changelings, and the fourth was a slinger that apparently was tossing around some very serious magic.” Elaine looked at each of them in turn. “The changelings were all conjured. The rat said he could smell it on them.”
Dante clenched the empty martini glass stem, but eased up when he felt it might crack.
“The rat said the dog wasn’t a normal dog, but he couldn’t explain it in a way I could understand,” Elaine continued. “Anyway, the new arrivals took down the shadows, who I’m fairly sure are the snatchers we’ve been hearing about. But the slinger, a girl, got hurt and was knocked out or something.”
“What do you mean or something?” Siobhan asked.
Elaine shrugged. “It’s not like we had a conversation in English. He gave me visions and impressions which I have to interpret. He kept thinking of falling asleep, so I can only assume she was knocked out.” Elaine took a drink. “And when the fight was done, the kids, the three in the room to start, and the four who showed up, had a brief conversation and they all just vanished. Poof.”
“What do you mean vanished?” Dante asked.
Elaine took another drink, this one longer, and shook her head. “One minute they were there, the next they were gone. Not so much as a whisper of magic. But the rat thinks Charge and his friends went willingly.”
“That don’t make no bleeding sense,” Siobhan said.
“I didn’t say it would,” Elaine said. “I know Charge. I’m guessing it was Slink and Mouse with him. They usually ran together. They are real.”
Dante looked at the hair, turning the glass tube in his fingers.
“All I can think is that those four kids who came to save them might’ve been conjured, but if they were it’s not like any conjuring I’ve ever encountered. The rat swears they were though.”
“Well, this hair is conjured,” Dante said. “But it’s almost an insult to use that term. This is master-level stuff.”
“And you’re sure they were just bleeding kids?” Siobhan asked.
Elaine nodded. “The rat had no doubt on that point. Age is sort of a bizarre concept, but he spends enough time around people to know the difference between kids and adults.”
“Dia ár gcumhdach,” Siobhan said and crossed herself.
“Yeah,” Elaine said, lifting her glass. “What she said.”
“What if,” Dante said, slowly, eyes still on the hair, “we’re talking about a slinger powerful enough to not just conjure a form, but create an actual, real living body? Not just a vessel. Some shape that looks like a body, but really is one: blood, sweat”—he held up the tube—“hair.”
“I don’t have to tell you the amount of power required to pull something like that off,” Elaine said. “Or how absolutely terrifying that idea is.”
Dante shook his head. “No, you don’t.”
Siobhan laughed and both the elves looked at her.
“Sorry,” Siobhan said. “I was just thinking it was like them transporter things in Star Trek, yeah?”
Dante and Elaine exchanged long looks.
“What did I say, then?” Siobhan asked.
“Maybe we’re thinking of this the wrong way,” Dante said. “Maybe it’s a sort of quantum magic.”
Elaine nodded. “A type of teleportation where you break down a body and reform it somewhere else?”
“No less complicated,” Dante said. “But it would explain things, like how the kids vanished, but this hair is still around.”
“Scotty missed the hair when he beamed them up, yeah?” Siobhan asked.
“So,” Dante said, “somewhere out there is a kid wielding Taleth-Sidhe–level power, fighting off snatchers and then stealing the kids away herself?”
“Maybe she’s taking them to safety,” Elaine said.
“It’s a theory,” Dante said. “Wish we had more, but it’s a start.”
Siobhan leaned back into her chair and ran a hand through her hair. “Fair play there,” she said to Elaine. “That beats the news he’s got for you.”
Dante went back to the bar and made himself another martini.
“Well, despite my fear of being disappointed,” Elaine said. “I have to ask—”
“The trails are closed,” Dante said as he finished making his drink.
“What?” Elaine laughed. “No, really, what is it?”
Dante walked back to the table and sat down. He took a sip and just looked at her.
“You’re serious?” Elaine’s smile vanished. “Holy—”
“Aye, that was about my thoughts on it as well,” Siobhan said.
“But,” Elaine said, “the trails have only ever been closed . . .”
“Yeah,” Dante said.
“But that’s impossible, right?” Elaine asked. “I mean, wouldn’t we, all of us, know about it if Seanán was back?” Her eyes went to the hair. “Mon Dieu.”
Dante studied them each in turn. “I need you to swear an oath of secrecy,” he said at last. “Both of you.”
“What—” Elaine started to ask.
“Thrice promised,” Dante said to her. Then he turned to Siobhan. “Bound by your honor never to speak of what I tell you to another being unless I release you to do so. That includes the Fionn.”
“Dar fia, man, do you know what you’re asking of me?” Siobhan said.
“I’m in,” Elaine said. She drew a small knife of greenish metal from her pocket, dragged the blade over her palm, and let a drop of blood fall onto the table. “By my blood and all I am, I promise that I shall never reveal, through any means, any of what you tell me.” She let a second drop join the first. “I swear to you, by the power of my blood and magic, I’ll keep whatever you reveal through pain or death.” A third drop joined the other two. “I give you to my solemn oath, never to share the secrets you impart to me, in any means or method, come pain, death, or geas.”
At her final word, the three droplets drew tight and solidified into a dark ruby.
Dante withdrew a small wooden box inlaid with complex knot work from an inside jacket pocket, then set the stone inside and nodded. Elaine’s eyes were fierce.
After half a heartbeat, he turned to Siobhan. “I need you to swear, or leave. This is beyond Cruinnigh business, and not open for discussion.”
They looked at each other for a long while, and he could see the hesitation in her eyes. You aren’t half the warrior he was, Dante thought. Brendan wouldn’t have let me finish my sentence before promising.
“Aye,” Siobhan said and nodded. She drew her own knife—nearly ten inches long—from behind her back and cut a lock of her long hair from her ponytail. Then she looked at Elaine. “Cover your ears, this part ain’t for you to hear.”
Elaine turned away and did as she was asked.
Siobhan offered Dante the hair. “I, Siobhan Aoife O’Riordan, do swear onto you by my honor and all I am, to keep your secret, through pain, death or worse, so help me.”
Dante accepted the hair, added it to the box, and then closed it before returning it to his jacket. He knew it was customary to burn the hair when the oath was made, as a sign of mutual trust, but he just didn’t have it in him to trust the Fianna again, not yet. Siobhan must have picked up on it, because she didn’t protest.
“It’s done,” he said and tapped Ela
ine’s shoulder.
Elaine looked at Siobhan, and then both women turned to Dante.
“You’ve both heard about Fiona Brady?” Dante asked.
They nodded.
“The wizard who helped me bring down the oíche is her soon to be stepfather. He has the most extensive library I’ve ever seen outside of the Acadamh. I sent him to research what could be behind the kidnappings, the murders, and the sudden explosion of wizards.
“What did he find, then?” Siobhan asked.
“Nothing definite. But this library has some specific eccentricities, and he kept coming across the same phrase: Taleth-Sidhe.”
“But it’s done,” Elaine said. “That battle was won. The dark magi were defeated.”
Siobhan nodded. “Aye, not a pretty ending to be sure, but it’s done all the same.”
Dante let out a breath. “I know. But that doesn’t change what’s happening around us. We’re seeing evidence of magic that is beyond what the next hundred most powerful mortal wizards can manage working together. I’m seeing changelings coming into the powers several years before they should.” He pointed at the glass tube holding the hair. “And there’s that.”
Elaine nodded. “Then there’s the mortal wizards sprouting up like weeds, and always street kids.”
“This goes well past just chance,” Dante said. “I’m not certain, but neither am I foolish enough to completely dismiss this. There are just too many things that point that way. The closing of the trails is just the latest.”
“I still don’t understand how we couldn’t have known,” Elaine said. “Why we didn’t sense it.”
“I don’t know,” Dante said. That drew nervous glances from both women. “But now you’re both in this up to your chins. It wouldn’t be right for me to keep you involved and not be forthcoming.”
Elaine swallowed. “You do realize if the trails are closed, that means that in all likelihood, so are the gateways to the Tír.”
“Bloody hell,” Siobhan said. “This is a serious mess here. I have to get word to—”
Dante glared at her.
“Apologies,” Siobhan said. “Me mouth went off without consulting me brain.”
“So what do we do?” Elaine asked.
“Dig in,” Dante said. “We open the doors and give shelter to any and all who need it: mortal, fae, changeling, everyone.”
“If you’re right, shouldn’t we get word to the other Cruinnigh members?” Siobhan asked. “And before you say it, I’m not just talking about the Fianna.”
“I think they know,” Dante said. “I can’t be sure, but I think this is being done by the remnants of the dark magi we thought Seanán wiped out. They’re calling themselves something different now, but if they’re serving the same master, it could explain the Taleth-Sidhe connection.”
“Like fecking cockroaches, they are,” Siobhan said.
“I think that’s an insult to roaches,” Dante said. “But if this is them, this is a group that just knowing about is dangerous, let alone actually speaking of. Besides, and I don’t like it, but I don’t have the resources to spare even a courier.”
“So we bar the doors and hope tonight is quiet?” Elaine asked.
Dante gave her a look. “Don’t think it’s a choice I make lightly, but there’s little the three of us can do tonight.”
“You’re right,” Elaine said. “But it sucks.”
“Agreed,” Dante said. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the market. We’ll see if the troll knows anything, and you can start spreading the word to the factions. It’s time for them to end their rivalries and come in, get behind some serious walls. I have wardens coming, but they’re a day away at best, maybe two.”
Elaine let out a breath. “I don’t think—”
“I’m going to take them with me when I go,” Dante said. “I’m not looking to occupy the city. I’m just tired of children going missing.”
Elaine eyed him.
“I’m not some corrupt politician looking to become dictator, and I’m not Donovan.”
Elaine didn’t say anything, but it felt like she was looking through him. Dante wondered what ghosts were hidden behind those eyes.
After a long moment, she nodded. “Fair enough, if you say I have your word.”
“You do,” Dante said.
“Well, I’m bloody well with you, ain’t I?” Siobhan said.
“We’ll hole up here tonight and start in the morning,” Dante said. “Get some rest if you can.”
“After I say a few prayers for the little ones,” Siobhan said.
Dante almost considered burning the hair she’d given him. Almost. He opened his mouth to say something, but his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then stood and stepped away from the table before answering.
“That was quick, even for you, Faolan, what have you got?”
“Another complication,” Faolan said.
“May I please speak to him?” Dante heard Caitlin ask.
Dante closed his eyes and took a long breath. “Give her the phone.”
“So, I’m guessing you don’t know about the strange guys who’ve been watching Eddy, Fiona, and me?”
“What?” Dante asked, almost dropping the phone.
“Let me explain,” Edward said, his voice distant, as if from behind Caitlin.
“Hold on,” Caitlin said.
“Can you hear me?” Edward asked.
“I can.”
“We put you on speaker, seemed easier.”
“What do you mean you’re being watched?” Dante asked.
“I’ve been adding wards and magical trip wires around the house,” Edward said. “It’s been good practice for me, and seemed like a good idea, all things considered. About a week ago, someone set them off. I set it up so any one who isn’t a neighbor picks up a little tag every time they drive by.”
Dante raised his eyebrows. “That’s rather brilliant actually.”
“Thanks,” Edward said. “Anyway, I started getting lots of hits. Half a dozen people were showing up with dozens of tags on them. Now it’s hundreds of tags. Much more than they’d get from just commuting to work this way.”
“Faolan,” Dante said. “Please tell me you didn’t know about this. And then tell me how you didn’t know about this.”
“You were otherwise occupied,” Faolan said. “So I detailed more marshals around the area to keep an eye on things.”
“What do you mean, more marshals?” Edward asked.
Dante opened his mouth.
“Let me guess,” Caitlin said. “Fiona was given protection.”
“Oh,” Edward said.
“Am I right?” Caitlin asked.
“Yes,” Dante said.
“Thank you,” Caitlin said and then added wryly, “and you still should’ve told us.”
Dante could only smile. “Well, I knew you’d figure it out.”
“Uh, huh,” Caitlin said. “So what now?”
“We’ll find out what’s going on,” Dante said.
“Yes, we will,” Faolan said.
“Good enough,” Caitlin said. “Eddy has something to tell you.”
There was the sound of the phone being picked up and the speakerphone being turned off, but Dante could hear footsteps fade away.
“She saw me working,” Edward said. “And I told you I wouldn’t lie to her.”
“I told you I wouldn’t ask you to,” Dante said. “But why didn’t you tell me about being watched?”
“I told Faolan and he said he’d handle it,” Edward said, his words unsure. “I’m sorry, should I have told you too?”
Dante scrunched up his face and shook his head. “No, Faolan can, and should, handle it.” He reminded himself he wasn’t magister anymore.
“Okay, so what I want
ed to tell you,” Edward said. “I came across something else, and thought it might be important. I keep seeing mentions of ‘The Forgotten Order.’ ”
Dante’s stomach twisted into knot and he mouthed a few choice expletives.
“I have no idea who it is,” Edward said. “I can’t find anything that explains who, or what it is. The really odd part is the way the term is used. I could be mistranslating it, but it doesn’t sound like it’s so much a proper name or title as an instruction. Like they should be forgotten.”
Dante let out a silent sigh of relief. He was thankful he’d convinced Edward’s grandfather not to keep any written details. It was worth the eight-hundred-plus years of grumbling Morgan had done after reluctantly agreeing.
“But it keeps coming up and I thought you should know,” Edward said.
“Thanks, that helps. I have to go.”
“Oh, sure, no problem. Let me know if you need anything—”
Dante ended the call, and put his phone in his pocket, face grim.
“Another complication?” Elaine asked.
“And then some,” Dante said. “It’s a sort of confirmation.”
Chapter Eighteen
Wraith stood in the middle of a ruined gothic church. Around her lay battered pews, tossed like some giant kid’s Lincoln Logs set after a particularly nasty tantrum. She turned slowly, taking in the place. Not one stained glass window was intact, and huge sections of the roof were missing, allowing her to see the storm raging outside. Lightning flashed over a leaden sky, but even those bursts of light couldn’t penetrate the gloom of this place. It was cold, dark, and incredibly familiar. The wind that howled through the holes sounded like the cries and moans of countless tortured souls.
Wraith saw movement in the shadows past the pulpit and altar. No, it was the shadows that were moving, and the whole building seemed to lurch as if they were chained to it. Wraith stumbled and took an unconscious step back, but paused when she heard voices. They were familiar but hard to make out over the wind. She crept forward until she could see Shadow and Nightstick facing each other in front of the altar.
“You know what my purpose is,” Nightstick said in a low, harsh tone.
The Forgotten Page 17
