The Outcast

by Patti Larsen

***

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Trill spun, stared at me like I’d slapped her. Cable cursed softly and shrugged. A black tunnel formed and I gaped at them, though I could see a faint glimmer of Harvard Yard on the other side. So, they couldn’t travel between planes, per se. The connection between Boston and the Stronghold must have given them something to latch onto.

  At least, I hoped that was the case.

  Trill continued to hold my gaze as her friends filed through and left the Stronghold. She lingered one last moment, sadness on her face before she turned to Owen and Apollo.

  “Are you coming?” She held out her hand to her brothers, desperation clear.

  Owen shook his head, refusing to meet her eyes while Apollo sighed softly, hands in his pockets.

  “Be safe, sis,” he said. “We’ll be waiting for you when you come to your senses.”

  Her teeth caught her lower lip, tears standing in her eyes. For a moment, I wondered if she might change her mind and ask to stay. Instead, she turned and stepped into the tunnel, the blackness collapsing behind her.

  What do you wish me to do, the Stronghold sent, if they try to return?

  Only Trill is permitted, I sent. Let me know if she tries to come back.

  I pulled Owen to me, hugged him as he snuffled on my shoulder. When he met my eyes again, there was so much pain in his face I almost wept myself.

  “We’re so worried about her,” he said, Apollo draping one arm around his brother’s shoulders. “But she won’t listen to us.” Owen looked up at the taller Zornov. “We hoped seeing you would help, but she’s still wrapped around Cable’s finger.”

  “He’s a real piece of work,” Apollo said, lips a grim line, blue eyes snapping anger. “I don’t trust him at all, Syd.”

  “Then, I don’t, either,” I said. “I’m sorry, I should have been there for Trill.” Why didn’t they come to me sooner?

  “Our fault,” Owen said, wiping his face with one hand. “We thought we could handle it.” He exchanged a sad look with his brother. “We were working together, hunting Belaisle and the Brotherhood.” I nodded, knew that part. “Trill had made contact with Cable and his crew a few years ago, but neither of us really knew much about who he was or what Trill’s association meant, outside the fact they were maji blood.” Owen sighed, one hand running over his mouth. “I should have asked more questions, but she dodged and I let her.” His impossibly blue eyes shone with tears. “She grew distant, not like her. Then, one day, she took off with Cable, told us she’d be right back.”

  “She was gone for a week,” Apollo said, hand on his brother’s shoulder, a comforting squeeze making Owen’s head droop. “We went looking for her, but she blocked us, even Nona.” Their grandmother usually kept close tabs on Trill, so I was surprised—and not so surprised—she managed to evade the old maji matriarch. “Seven days later, she strolled back into our lives a different person.”

  “Different how?” I already guessed.

  “Her power.” Owen shivered, shook his head. “It’s different, Syd.”

  I’d seen that first hand. “Do you know what she did? The Stronghold said she’s tainted her creation power.”

  “With sorcery,” Owen bobbed a nod. “But I have no idea how. It does mean I’m obsolete, at least in her estimation.” That seemed to trouble him most, and I understood. The pair were a team for so long, it must have hurt him to have her cut him out like this. “I know that’s petty,” he said, “but I’m worried, really worried. With me controlling the sorcery side, she had a buffer against it. Now she’s blended the two…” He met his brother’s eyes before returning his gaze to me. “I have no idea what she’s becoming. But it’s not good, Syd.”

  Apollo nodded in agreement, rubbing one arm like he was cold. “We hoped you might be able to help. But I guess she’s too far gone into Cable’s control for that.”

  Maybe if circumstances were different I could have made Trill a priority. Now?

  Yeah. Rugs and sweepings under and guilt.

  Mom’s soft magic brushed against me as she gently approached. Her kind, welcoming smile made both Zornovs smile in return.

  “You two must be tired and starving,” she said, linking arms with them. Apollo half bowed, but his douchebag self was nowhere in evidence.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hayle,” he said before meeting my eyes. “Anything we can do to help, Syd. We might not be Trill, but we’re sorcerers.”

  I nodded, squeezed his hand. I liked this new, reserved Apollo much better than the arrogant player he’d always portrayed. “I’ll put you to work, don’t worry.” I frowned, shook my head, thinking about his past and how he’d grown up in the underworld of normals. Gambling, stealing, grifting. “Maybe you can be more helpful in another way.” The family fortune. We might not need it this minute, the Stronghold taking care of our needs, but if we were going to reclaim Wilding Springs, we’d need our money back. Or a new fortune made.

  Apollo listened carefully as I explained what happened. His eyes lit up and he grinned at me, a little of his old self showing as he winked and clucked his tongue at me, shooting me with an imaginary gun.

  “I know just the badass,” he said, stepping away from Mom. Owen joined him. “Thanks for the offer, Mrs. Hayle,” he said, saluting her with a jaunty wave. “We’ll take you up on that as soon as we get back.”

  She let them go as I fished in my pocket and handed them my mirror shard. “Be careful,” I said. “And thank you.”

  The Zornov brothers, both invigorated by the thought of helping from the grins on their faces, took off at a jog for the now shimmering giant mirror, disappearing through it. I hoped I hadn’t sent them into fresh danger, but if they could really help, I’d be forever grateful.

  Mom hugged me gently from the side, chin on my shoulder. “You have a lot to tell me, I take it?”

  ***

  I woke with a start, body quivering in the darkness. It took a moment for my demon to wake, grumbling and complaining. My vampire nudged me gently.

  It’s my turn to rest, she sent as my demon stretched and yawned. Shaylee will wake shortly and take over.

  I’d learned long ago they took turns watching over me as I slept. How much time did I get? I yawned, too, jaw creaking. It felt like I’d just closed my eyes.

  About an hour, my vampire sent. I’m sorry, it’s all the time we had. You need to be in Europe shortly.

  Right. Message in from Femke to Mom told me the meeting was almost ready, if a few hours later than the European leader would have liked. Trying to force the world council leaders to move at speed was like herding cats on high test catnip.

  I turned to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, face in hands. The room Quaid picked for us was nice, carpeted floor soft on my bare feet, the bed that perfect mix of soft and hard I loved. Too bad I couldn’t sink into it for about a week.

  My bones moaned as I stood and stretched out the kinks of this endless night. So much had happened in the last two and a half days. The story of my life. But it was time to put an end to this, even if I had to force the other world council leaders to step up and take action.

  I made time for a five minute shower, emerging from the steaming water feeling a little better. My power was still low, but much more ready, willing and able than it had been just an hour ago. If I could have managed another hour, I might have been able to refresh completely, but I’d take what I could get.

  As I left the room in my clean jeans and t-shirt, sneakers squeaking on the stone floor, I dodged a pair of running children before being tackled by my own. The two who skimmed past me stopped and waited, bouncing on impatient feet while Galleytrot came to a halt, sinking to his haunches to watch me with his tongue lolling out.

  At least someone was having a good time. Ethie’s little cheeks glowed pink, her eyes bright with laughter and Gabriel was pretty much the same.

  “Mom!” Ethie clapped her hands in excitement. “So much fun!”

  I grinned, k
issed her, sent her on to her friends. Gabriel hugged me.

  “Are you okay, Mom?” His natural empathy reminded me of Liam.

  “I’m fine,” I said, tousling his strawberry blond hair. “Now, go play with your sister.”

  He beamed me a smile and took off running, the pack of four joined by two more who burst out of a side corridor to a chorus of giggles and shrieks. Galleytrot’s low chuckle turned me around to face him.

  “Enjoying yourself, are you?” He came to my side, my hands digging into the fur of his mane, making him groan in happiness.

  “They’ve kept me on my toes,” he said. “But they are safe, and that is all I can ask for.” Red fire flickered in his eyes. Gwynn might have freed him, but Galleytrot was still a wild hound. “Do you need me?”

  “You are doing exactly what I need you to do already,” I said, hugging his big head, planting a kiss on his soft ear. “Thank you.”

  “Galleytrot!” Ethie’s piercing voice summoned him with imperialness from the end of the hall.

  “It appears my presence is required,” he said with laughter in his voice. “Keep me posted?”

  “Of course.” I let him go, watched him bound off after the kids and hugged myself, grateful for this little slice of happy.

  When I turned to go the other way, I let out a shriek of shock. The silver Persian at my feet glared up at me with glowing amber eyes.

  “Warn a girl,” I said, bending to scoop him into my arms.

  “I take it you have news.” His fur shivered. “Report.”

  I laughed. I just couldn’t help it. He was so pissed at me, and that always tickled my funny bone. It wasn’t funny, but all the stress and worry and rushing about had made me a little punch drunk, so laughing was my only option.

  That or collapsing into tears. I’d take the giggles.

  Sassafras rolled his eyes at me, batting my face. “Just tell me,” he sighed.

  I filled him in on everything I knew as I carried him toward the cafeteria. By the time I was done, we were slipping inside, my eyes huge at the number of witches gathered, chatting and eating.

  “Is it just me,” I said, “or has the family gotten a whole lot bigger?” There had to be at least two hundred and fifty people here, pushing up the numbers of my normally one hundred or so coven into bursting.

  “More refugees arrive every hour,” he said, soft and sad. “With horror stories and death following them. I’m just glad they’re finding us.”

  “So the rescue teams are effective?” I liberated an orange—or what I guessed was an orange with its thick skin and deep red color of local fruit— a small carton of milk and a bottle of water from the buffet style table before turning and leaving the room for the main hall. I sat on one of the benches in the empty space, grateful for the quiet, setting the silver Persian down beside me. I cracked open the carton for him, pulling down the sides to make a small bowl before peeling my breakfast.

  “It would appear so.” He lapped a few tongue swipes before looking up at me, a bead of milk hanging from his chin. “You’re leaving soon?”

  I nodded. “The world council should be in Oxford by now.” I checked my watch, amazed it was only seven in the morning, Wilding Springs time. That meant noon in England. She said 1PM. I’d have to hurry.

  The mirror shimmered as I stuffed the sweet sliver of citrus into my mouth, Piers striding through. Behind him came a string of witches, soot-covered and stumbling from shock, but alive and well. Mom hurried forward at once, appearing out of nowhere, and suddenly the main hall was as crowded as the cafeteria. I stood, sweeping my breakfast behind me, to greet my friend as he came to hug me.

  “Big haul,” he said. “We found them hiding out.” His voice vibrated with weariness, but the hint of success. “Most of them made it.”

  “Thank you.” I pulled away from him. “You need sleep before you go out again.”

  “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head so his silken hair moved like a wave. Zoe appeared, worming her way under his arm. He smiled down at her, kissed the tip of her nose. “But, breakfast would be awesome.”

  The mirror shimmered again, catching my attention. A young man stumbled through, his sorcery hitting me like a blow. But it wasn’t an attack, not from the shocked look on Piers’s face, the way his whole body crumbled when the sorcerer lurched toward him and fell into his arms.

  “The Steam Union has fallen,” the young man gasped. “We need you, Piers.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  The sorcerer collapsed, Piers easing him to the floor. I crouched with him, Mom rushing over to check on us. My friend’s face compressed in grief as he finally looked up and met my eyes.

  “Syd,” he choked. “She’s made her bed.”

  I know he was talking about his mother, but I couldn’t leave it there. “We can’t let the Steam Union just vanish,” I said, pulling him to his feet. “We’re going. Now.”

  Piers followed me as I jerked open the veil and reached for the young man’s mind at the same time. The image of an underground tunnel was all I had to latch onto, that and the feeling of danger.

  “This could be bumpy,” I said as Piers and I leaped through the gap I’d made. A moment of weightlessness followed, then the other end opened and dropped us into overly fragrant dimness. My feet splashed into water, stone tunnel roof overhead making me crouch, though it only appeared low. Piers grunted beside me, the bottom of his longcoat soaking in the stinking fluid washing past us.

  “Sewer,” he said, a hint of relief in his voice. “This way.”

  The fact he knew where we were and where to go made me wonder about his hiding habits. Instead, I plugged my nose with one hand and followed him down the tunnel. He hoisted himself up onto a ledge at the T-junction of the tunnel, pulling me up beside him. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he shook out the bottom of his coat, me examining my squishy and vile sneakers. A little push of magic cleaned them, giving me dry socks and jeans again, Piers’s sorcery devouring the mess and cleansing him, too. Still, there was no ignoring the stench. We both shrugged and carried on.

  I followed his tense shoulders down the narrow ledge, my magic probing ahead of me, finding nothing, just blank emptiness. Piers stopped at one point and lowered his head, chewing his bottom lip, face scrunched into a scowl.

  “Where are they?” I wound up tighter. This could be a trap. But Piers shook his head and spun, slipping past me, going back the way we came.

  “Sorry,” he murmured. “Wrong turn. This way.”

  I let out a gust of frustrated air and followed.

  Ten minutes of disgustingness later and Piers paused, glancing back at me over his shoulder. I caught the pressure of sorcery ahead, just the barest hint of it, right before his shoulders slumped and he nodded.

  “Stay close,” he said. “She’s going to be pissed.”

  At what? Because we were here to help? Or because he was showing me their secret hideout in the nasty sewers?

  Or, my vampire sent, awake again, because he left her and she’s still angry.

  Oh, yeah. That. Wasn’t always about me, was it?

  Piers stepped forward, two figures melting out of the darkness to greet him. I caught their murmured conversation, the sounds of it at least, then moved ahead with him when he gestured for me to keep advancing. I glanced to the right, at the sorcerer knee-deep in crap below, then to the left, shimmying past his partner. Both had desperate looks on their faces, full of fear and loss. My heart contracted as Piers turned toward the wall and pressed against the stone with his magic.

  The rock ground together, moving inward, shifting to one side. He stepped through without hesitation, into the light and I went with him, not nearly as confident of our welcome.

  The door wound its way shut behind me, but I wasn’t paying attention to it. Not when I had more important—and painful—things to focus on. This appeared to be the main entry to some kind of bunker, almost like a small version of the great hall at the
Stronghold. Bodies lay scattered around, though not from battle. It appeared the Steam Union made it safely here and could go no further. The sounds of soft snoring and the near-comatose feel to some of them screamed pure exhaustion.

  A young woman detached from a small knot of people and hurried forward, throwing her arms around Piers. I recognized his sister, Clover, just as she leaned around him, her thick, black braid dangling between us and offered me a sad smile.

  “Be welcome, both of you,” Clover Southway said. “I’m so glad you’re here.” And burst into tears.

  Piers comforted his sister while I looked around, horror growing by the minute. Damn it, I shouldn’t have just abandoned the Steam Union like this. I let my dislike for Eva Southway put an entire group into danger.

  We have stretched ourselves to our very limits, my vampire sent in a chiding tone. Don’t you dare say we were slacking even for a second.

  I know, I sent, guilt easing. It’s just hard to see this.

  Commotion stirred, the tall, severe blonde with the furious face who stormed toward us making me take a step back. Not out of fear, but out of a renewed sense of guilt. That was, until Eva Southway opened her damned spiteful mouth and spoke.

  “What are you doing here?” She glared at her son before shooting me one of those “if looks could kill I’d be dead ten times over” stares. “Neither of you are welcome.”

  She had to be kidding. “We want to help, Mum,” Piers said, the sound of his heart breaking in his voice. “We have a safe place to offer, where you can regroup.”

  He might as well have told her to go to hell, the way her face constricted in fury. “How dare you?” She strode the last few steps and jerked Clover out of Piers’s grip. Her daughter trembled, lower lip vibrating, looking up at her mother with grief so powerful I wondered how this woman had managed to have two amazing kids. “We don’t need your handouts.”

  That did it. I’d been through quite enough crap in the last little while, thank you, to take flack for offering to help a band of clearly undeserving creepzillas with a death wish.