Feet of Clay_An Urban Fantasy Novel

by J. A. Cipriano

  Gabriela stood beside her in the very real flesh, and as I came in, she turned to toward me. She looked better than I had seen her since before we got nabbed. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was dressed in practical slacks, a navy blue blouse, and her battered-but-freshly-patched doctor’s coat.

  Tabitha was the first to say something. “I should have figured you would–”

  She didn’t get to finish. Well, she did, but I wasn’t paying her a lick of attention because Gabby sprang across the room and enveloped me in a hug. “Frank! You’re all right!” After dealing with death, gore, and Mom’s perfume, it was so fucking good to feel her warmth against me, to breathe in the clean, spring scents that always clung to her.

  “Don’t worry about me, Doc. I was worried about you!” I held her tight, maybe too tight, but I didn’t give two shits. Our plan to get away from Abner had been crazy with no guarantees, after all. Fucking with a dimensional portal hadn’t be safe or smart. We were lucky to be alive.

  “Your mother, is she–” It was all coming out like a stream of consciousness, each of us cutting each other off before the other could finish.

  “Yeah, yeah, I got to her in time. How did–”

  “I got dropped uptown! I guess I was lucky I had my wallet and–”

  “Me too! Well, not uptown and not my own wallet but–”

  We drifted closer and closer. That big moment we had been dancing around was coming, I could feel it. Gabriela nodded slightly as she looked up at me. “Did they hurt her?”

  “No, she’s okay. I brought home a stray though.” Our lips were going to come together. This was it.

  “Okay, you two, enough!” Tabitha’s magically amplified voice blew every other thought out of my head, leaving my ears ringing and the window glass, enchanted as it was, vibrated in their frames. “We have serious business to attend to!”

  Gabby shook her head to clear it and stepped back. Dammit. “Right, Tabitha is absolutely correct.”

  The problem was I sort of agreed. Mom was still a sitting duck with a pea-shooter and an unconscious Molly. Even if the Enders didn't hurt her (still unknown at this point), who knew if the Whites hadn’t already found a way to track us down? I stayed close to the doc, hovering a bit over her shoulder. “Thanks for not turning me away or shooting me repeatedly in the face, Tabby.”

  Marlowe sighed and nodded. “You’re welcome, Mr. Butcher, but know that, regardless of your relationship with Gabriela, I didn’t bring you in out of the kindness of my heart. Frankly, you’re a bit unpopular with some of my people.”

  Gabriela crossed her arms. “They will have to adapt; we’re all having to.”

  “Hey, I know I’m on probation,” I smirked. “Seriously, though, before we do anything else, I need to go get–”

  “Your mother and the White’s soldier?” Marlowe said, shocking me. How did she know about them? “They’re fine.” As though savoring the look of dumb surprise that must have been plastered across my face, she continued, “Do you honestly think we don’t keep watch on our own parking deck? Don’t worry, no one was harmed picking them up, despite your mother’s best efforts.”

  “Soldier?” Gabby glanced over her shoulder curiously. “I know you mentioned a stray, but I really thought you were talking about an animal, like a cute kitten or a dog or something.”

  “Hold on, Doc, wait a sec.” Gabriela’s glance made me feel a shade guilty, the very act of bringing Molly here could have turned the ex-Enders against us in a heartbeat, so I focused past Gabby to Tabitha. “Where are they? You better not touch a hair on my mother’s head.” Yeah, we’ll put off the question for now. Good plan, Frank!

  Marlowe sat back down, her voice relaxed all the way down to normal volume. “Your mother is being taken to a nice suite so she can rest from all the excitement. She’s being treated with kid gloves, you must believe me.” I nodded slowly. Tabby had been a straight shooter before so I had no reason to doubt her now. Besides, I had come here for her help, hadn’t I? “As for the White, she’s in the prison downstairs until Dr. Perez can take a look at her.”

  “Frank, who is it?” Gabriela insisted. “Bringing one of Lambert’s thugs in here is crazy, especially with how tenuous our safety is!” She probably wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t know Molly like I did. Then again, she probably did know Molly’s last name, so there was that.

  “Well, Molly and Richter had been assigned to guard and, well, kill Mom, but Molly decided that was bullshit.” I shrugged, trying to make it sound like no big deal. “She killed most of the White guys before I got there. Got pretty messed up in the process.”

  Gabby arched an eyebrow in a mix of curiosity and concern. “Richter?”

  I let out a brief sigh. “He was all for the Whites. I had to take care of him.” I shrugged again. “Point is they’re all dead, I tore up all the enchantments I could see so they couldn’t track us, before I got Mom and Molly here. Not much more to say other than that.”

  Her soft green eyes fixed on me as she put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Frank.”

  “Thanks.” That made me smile but again, before the emotions could get back going, the director butted back in. I was really starting to dislike her.

  “Well, it is good to know the situation.” She steepled her fingers. “Gabriela told me about the rest of your problems, which are basically our problems as well.” She had the decency not to call me a dumbass, which was nice of her because standing in front of her, that’s sort of how I’d felt. It made me wonder how things would have gone if I’d wound up in an Ender hospital instead of a White one.

  “I could see you’ve been getting attacked, that much is for sure,” I gestured at the windows as I spoke. Her look of restrained surprise gave me a smile and a warm feeling inside. “You did a good job cleaning up, but I’m guessing you’re running on limited resources.”

  “I had been discussing that very fact with Gabriela when you arrived. With the End Society shattered,” – I had to give Tabitha points for not giving us a nasty look– “it’s become every being for themselves. For all their supposed higher principles, the White have been ruthless in pressing their advantage, forcing former Enders to either join their clan or be hunted down.” She didn’t spare Gabriela a hard look at that.

  “My allegiance to the White is done. If I had known what they were doing…” Gabby left the rest unspoken. She didn’t need to say anything else to get her point across.

  I glanced at the EnderTech cases. “Well, you look like you’ve at least got some leftover goodies from Marcus’s stockpiles. That should come in handy when the White come knocking.”

  “It’s ultimately moot.” Tabitha seemed to retract into her chair, deflating with stress and fatigue. “Especially with the news that the White might complete their own ritual. I think Gabriela finally understands the danger of that. You always seemed to, Frank. Even if we hold out, we’ll be lost under the flood of magical disasters to come.”

  “Then we’re in agreement. You help us, and we’ll help you.” Gabriela started to pace as she spoke. I backed up her point with a stern nod. “We want to rescue Max, which will bring their ritual tumbling down in the process. We can’t do it alone.”

  “Especially because we don’t have any idea of where to start,” I opined. “I could try to track the tapestry, look for the ritual’s threads, but there’s no guarantee they’re doing their little luau in this city or even this world.” Gabby had to already know that, but having it said made her let out an audible sigh.

  Tabitha seemed to perk up as she heard us, and I got the distinct impression this was what she’d expected all along. “Well, I don’t know what all we can offer to help on a material front but as one of the architects of the Ender’s ritual process, I might be able to help on an informational level.”

  “Of course!” Gabriela fed off Tabitha’s spark of interest. “Luna said the rituals of both clans were remarkably similar. There would have to be far more commo
nalities than Max’s involvement.”

  “Fan-freaking-tastic!” I clapped my hands to punctuate my enthusiasm. “It’s about time we got some good news.” Glancing between the two ladies, I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “It’s also something I can’t help a flip with, to be honest, and I’ve been through a bit of a ringer lately. Maybe I can find a place to crash after I make sure Mom’s settling in?”

  Gabriela flashed me a smile, but it was Tabitha that spoke up. “To be fair, from what I have heard of your mutual travels, you’ve both been through the wringer. From the information Gabriela shared with me, there seems to be a hold-up in the plans of our mutual enemy, and I am fairly certain I know what it is. I’ll have to confirm with my sources, so you have a few hours until then. You should both use it while we have it.”

  “Max is more important than sleep right now, Tabitha. If there’s time for a break, I’d better spend it checking on Ms. O’Shaughnessy. Otherwise, I’ll just stew in my own worry.” Hmm, was that Molly’s last name? So terribly Irish! “I can whip up a wakefulness potion or something to deal with it.” You know how a youngster gets when they’re all tuckered out, but they keep wanting to push on? That was Gabby in a nutshell right then. Not that I blamed her. I was simply being a hair more pragmatic.

  “Gabby,” I put a hand on her shoulder, “we’re not superheroes. You’ll think clearer after some sleep, ya know? Maybe check out Molly while I check on Mom, then we both agree to catch some shut eye?”

  “If it will make you feel more at ease, I can assure you Roland lacks a critical piece of his ritual,” Tabitha offered. “Until he reclaims it, he won’t be able to progress. I just need to confirm something about it first. As I said before, my sources are due to check in with me in a few hours. There’s nothing to do until then.”

  Both of our eyes widened a bit. “How do you know that for sure?” Gabriela asked.

  “Because I still have it,” Marlowe smiled, smug as a cat with a mouse. “Or to be more accurate, I have the only way in the universe to get to it.”

  18

  You’d think with a reveal like that, we’d get drug into another big discussion, but Tabitha, like every other sorcerer I’d been around, had a strong love of the melodramatic. She dug in her high heels, insisting we needed to rest first.

  At that point, neither I or Gabby had the energy to argue with her. Besides, I needed to check on Mom.

  That was easy enough as it turned out. Marlowe was true to her word. Mom had been set up in a suite on the top floor near the director’s office. Not that this made Mom happy, not after the bit with the Whites. That much was obvious by the all-too familiar curses I heard as I walked up. I was prepped to duck hurled insults and small objects as the on-duty guard let me in.

  “You sunvabitches better let me go! The cops know I’ve been kidnapped. They’ll come lookin’!” Ah, classic Betty Butcher. Mom, despite her pissed-off state, was smart enough to make herself rather comfortable in the front room, a kind of living room/kitchenette deal.

  “Mom, it’s Frank! You can stop throwing the china now, okay?” I cried preemptively, arms protectively over my noggin.

  Mom scowled, almost pouted. “I’m not throwing the china.” In a low mutter, she added, “Mainly because I couldn’t find any.” She wagged her cane at me. “Now, son, you better tell me what the hell is going on now! If you had friends comin’ to pick us up, you shoulda said something. Jesus and Mary, I coulda killed someone!”

  I shook my head as I pulled up a chair myself. “It’s complicated. I didn’t know they were friends yet. Shit, I don’t know if they’re entirely friends now.”

  “Well, Frankie, how about you explain it to me? I’m not dumb, ya know!” She set her cane next to her chair and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Okay, Mom, here’s what’s up…”

  As I said, Mom’s a tough cookie and she can be imminently practical. She had to be, raising two boys on her own. Once I laid it out for her, she was more than content to take advantage of the hospitality being offered to us. That was fine by me. As long as she stayed in the relative safety of her suite, Mom was in the best place I could put her.

  I was so beat by the time I was done talking to her, I barely managed to hump it to the bed I had been assigned. It was in a cramped little dorm, small enough to be jealous of a closet’s size with a little common room connected to it, leading to two more chambers. I didn’t give a shit. It had a decently soft bed that wasn’t made entirely out of hornets, blankets, and a couple of lumpy pillows. That was plenty for me.

  To say I passed out would be an understatement. I had technically gotten some downtime when I was in the diammal, but unconsciousness is a poor substitute for real, proper sleep. The mirror-blocked windows provided a real sense of timelessness. I probably could have slept away a couple of days, given the chance.

  Naturally, I wasn’t given that chance. Some totally unknown time later, my lovely, dreamless sleep was interrupted by a couple of big ham hands.

  “Dammit, Sarge, gimme a few more minutes,” I mumbled, trying to turn away from the continuing annoyance.

  “Quit your bellyaching, Butcher!” The world resolved into Tyrone’s lovely bullet head hovering over me as he kept trying to jostle me awake. “Do you want to eat or not?”

  Even in my sleep-addled state, eating sounded pretty fucking great. I relented and threw the covers off. “Right, okay.” I splayed out my limbs and let out a long sigh. “Thanks.”

  He shrugged as he turned toward the door. “Don’t thank me. Johnson did the cooking today. Food’s out in the common room.” He glanced back for a moment. “I’m sure the director will call for you soon, so eat fast.”

  “I love you too, Tyrone!” I flashed his back a smile.

  If he heard me as he closed the door, he didn’t acknowledge it. Oh well, I was hungry and we had a shit ton to do today. I guess it was better to say Gabby and Tabby (it’s cute because it rhymes) had a lot of work to do today, and I might have a lot to do if they figured this shit out.

  What Tyrone hadn’t mentioned was the folded pile of clean clothes on the little nightstand by the bed. That was a real godsend! I wasn’t sure how long it had been since I’d been in clean, non-bloodstained clothes. Sometimes it’s the little things, ya know?

  It got even better when I got into the common room. Gabriela sat at a square, plastic table, pushing eggs and ham around her plate. While shit might have still been tumbling down around us, seeing her sitting there made me happy in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Well, that’s a bit of a lie. I could have explained it, easily even, but I was of a mind at that moment that even using those words I wanted to in my head would jinx the whole damned thing.

  As I grabbed a chair of my own, she smiled at me in a way that could have launched a thousand ships. “Good morning, Frank. Are you feeling better? How’s your mother?”

  “Yeah, real rest will do you good. As for Mom, well, Mom is Mom. She’s not going to shoot anybody now, that’s for sure.” I piled up my plate with breakfast goodies. The spread was simple, plastic plates piled with scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, and toast, but I wasn’t going to complain a bit. “Thanks for asking.”

  Gabby’s smile brightened a bit more. Better make it a million ships. “Don’t mention it. I’m just glad she’s fine.” She looked down to meaningfully spear a piece of ham. “As soon as we eat, I’m going to meet with Tabitha. I think we’re close to Max, if what she’s hinting about is true. At worst, it will lead Roland to us.”

  It took me a minute to respond as I had a mouthful of food. “I hope it doesn’t come to that. These people don’t need that kind of shitshow.”

  “I agree, but we might not have that choice. Still, we’ll do everything we can to prevent it.” She grabbed a pot that was sitting on a heating pad between us and poured some coffee into an “I Heart Magic” mug and slid it over to me. “So I had a bit of a chat with Molly when I was seeing to her injuries. For an emergency job with unfamiliar equipm
ent, you did pretty well. She’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.”

  I coughed as the coffee I was drinking went down the wrong pipe. I hadn’t actually done anything with Molly, even courageously avoiding her last request for a kiss. Why did I feel guilty over it?

  Gabriela flashed an impish smirk. “You’re supposed to drink coffee, not breathe it.” She swirled her own mug. “Or is it something else you’re worried about?”

  “Well, it’s just–” Really? Was I an idiot out of a rom-com? There was no need to be an immature fucknut about this. “Look, I think Molly might have a thing for me, or at least she does when she’s delirious from blood loss and whiskey.”

  “Oh?” One of those delicate eyebrows arched a hair. Man down! Call for backup!

  I scooped up some eggs, trying to make what came next sound totally like it was no big deal. “She thought she was dying so she asked me to kiss her as some sort of last request thing. I told her she wasn’t going to die. It wasn’t a thing.” I mean, it mostly wasn’t. Maybe a hair. Whatever. Nothing had happened. I was a good boy.

  I think I failed at the “being cool” part because Gabby started laughing. “Oh, Frank, it’s okay. Molly told me everything. We had something of a heart-to-heart chat about that and a few other things.” I was about to open my stupid mouth but she cut me off. “They weren’t all about you, before you ask. She’s a soldier who has basically gone full-on traitor. It’s for a good cause and a good reason, sure, but that has a lot of impact. You understand, right?”

  Swallowing my eggs before I had the need to choke on something else, I nodded. “Yeah, I do. Hell, she’s young and the military, any military, is practically institutionalized brainwashing. It won’t be easy for her, especially in such friendly surroundings.” I pointed my fork at the doc and twirled it counterclockwise. I had the overwhelming urge to know where I stood with her. “Now, can we rewind a second to what you two said about little old me?”