“What do you think he meant?” said Ally.
“I haven’t the slightest idea.”
She rolled her cup between her palms. “A thing of nightmare. So many things you’ve met fit that description. The winged demons. The Ildramyn. Lord Marugon.” She scowled, rage crossing her features. “Even that traitor Rembiar.”
Arran frowned. She had smirked with satisfaction when he had told her of Rembiar’s end on the tip of Sir Liam’s blade. Arran could only half-remember the traitor’s face after all these years. “You seem to loathe him.”
“Why not?” said Ally. “He betrayed Alastarius to his death. He tried to kill you. If…if he hadn’t, maybe you wouldn’t have split with Sir Liam.”
“True.” Would Sir Liam have survived the perils of the Tower if Arran had accompanied him? “But you never met the man. I could be spinning this story out of air, for all you know.”
Ally blinked. “I…don’t know. I don’t know why. Something about him infuriates me.”
“Betrayal is the worst of sins,” said Arran.
“Yes…but I don’t know why it infuriates me so.” She shrugged. “It just does, I guess.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Arran slid Luthar’s sword back into its scabbard. “Rembiar is dead. He could not be the thing of nightmare Luthar foresaw.” He blinked. “But perhaps the children of the void.”
“The what?” Ally sat up straighter, her dark eyes narrowing. “The children of the void? Is that what you said?” Arran nodded. “What are they?”
“I have not yet told you,” said Arran. He remembered their dark shapes, their whispering voices, and shuddered. “I saw them in the Tower…”
“Damn!” Ally glared at her watch.
“What is it?”
“I have to go.” She began to scoop up her backpack.
“Very well. I can continue tomorrow night.”
“No.” She stood, pulling on her long green coat.
Arran’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“Arran, listen to me.” Ally closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ve told you that I was adopted, right? I don’t remember anything that happened before I was ten or eleven.”
Arran nodded. “You did.” He stood next her. “You told me that.” He did not want her to flee from him. She held all his answers, he knew, the key to all the mysteries that plagued him.
She shook her head, flame-red hair brushing her cheeks. “Everything you’ve told me…I believe you. I don’t know why. It’s…it’s as if I’ve heard all these names and places before, somewhere, only I don’t remember them.”
Arran nodded.
“Tonight is Lithon’s birthday.” She blinked. “Well, not really. We don’t know his real birthday, so we picked November to celebrate it. And my parents…tonight they’re going to tell me. Everything. They never told me before, and I never asked. Well, I did ask, but I never really pushed.” She took a deep breath. “They’re going to tell tonight. And if their story matches what you’ve told me, in any way…then I’ll ask them to let you meet Lithon.”
“You will?” said Arran. “Thank you.”
“But only if what my parents tell me matches with your story,” said Ally.
“It will.” Arran stepped closer. “Lithon is the King of Carlisan. And you…I don’t know who you are. But you are…special, somehow, I cannot say how. I know it.”
They stared at each other without blinking.
And for a moment Arran felt the overwhelming urge to kiss her. No. That would be madness. He was so close to finding Lithon, and he could risk scaring her away.
But the urge remained nonetheless.
Ally looked away first, licking her lips. “Well, thank you, I think. I have to go back to my dorm.”
“Might I walk you there?”
Ally’s face worked through a number of expression before she smiled. “All…all right. I suppose I trust you that much.” She slid her backpack over her shoulders. “This way.”
Arran pulled on his overcoat, retrieved Luthar’s Sacred Blade, and followed her outside. The night sky had the faint purple cast of early winter. Their breath steamed in the air, and Ally pulled her coat tighter against the chill
“Where do you live?” said Ally.
Arran glanced at her. “Live?” He clipped his Sacred Blade to his belt and slung Luthar’s over his shoulder, the hilt rising past the collar of his coat.
“I mean, where are you staying?” said Ally. “I don’t think you’re sleeping in a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere.”
“After I passed through the Tower,” said Arran. “The door opened into a small wood behind a large white house. A woman named Dr. Heloise Francis owns the house. I stopped a trio of brigands from killing her and looting her house. Out of gratitude, she allowed me to stay with her while I searched for Alastarius and King Lithon.” He gestured at his clothes. “She also purchased these clothes, and has told me much of the ways of your world.”
“Dr. Francis?” Ally shook her head. “You’re kidding me.”
“I am not,” said Arran.
“No, it’s not that. I don’t think you’re lying. It’s just…I know Dr. Francis. She was one of my dad’s teachers. They’re still good friends. And that white house…my dad and my grandma used to live there.” She stiffened. “That…clearing in the woods, behind the house. That means there’s a door to the Tower there.” She shivered. “No wonder.”
“You’ve seen the door?” said Arran.
“No. I…just thought there was something there. I could feel it.” She looked him in the eye, her jaw set. “Why did you bother?”
“Bother with what?”
Ally waved her hand. “All of this. Telling me your story. You could have found out about Lithon from Dr. Francis. Or you could have just followed me home. They used to call you the Ghost of Carlisan, right? You could have broken into the university, found my records,” she made a face, “assuming no one accidentally deleted them, again. So why are you bothering with this?”
Arran took a deep breath. “I wanted you to trust me. I did not want you to think me an agent of Marugon. And I did not want to offend your protectors.”
“Protectors?” said Ally. “You mean my parents?”
“No.” Arran shook his head. “Your bodyguards. I see them every now and again, following you.”
“I don’t have any bodyguards,” said Ally. “And no one’s following me.” She frowned. “Unless…no, I scared them off, I think.”
“Who?” said Arran, concerned. If someone was following her…
“No one, I think,” said Ally. “There were some wannabe stalkers a few weeks ago.”
“Stalkers?” said Arran. “Why would someone stalk you?” But he knew the answer. If Marugon or his minions had learned of her or Lithon…
Ally shrugged. “Got me. It happens more often than I like. Some guy talks to a girl once or twice and then he gets obsessed with her.”
“It is not hard to see why,” said Arran. “You must have had a dozen suitors vying for your attention.”
“Thank you.” Ally blinked. “I think. Ah…not that I’ve had very many suitors. Or…um…” She turned red and fell silent.
They walked in silence to the university campus and Ally’s dorm building. A car pulled up in the parking lot, its engine coughing and wheezing. The headlights flicked off and Ally’s friend Mary Lucas emerged from the vehicle.
“Mary!” Ally called. “Over here.”
Mary grinned and hurried over. “Ally!” Her expression darkened. “It’s him.”
Arran put his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Most observant.”
“Oh, so good to see you again, Mr. Belphon,” said Mary. “Ally, why are you hanging out with him? He scared you half to death the first time you met. And he’s got to be like, fifty years old, or something. Isn’t that just a bit creepy, hanging out with a fifty year old guy?”
“I’m not quite that old, thank you,” said Arran.
“It’s not that, Mary,” said Ally. “It’s…it’s…oh, I’ll explain it to you in the car.” She turned. “Arran. I’ll come to the coffeehouse tomorrow. Wait for me, okay?”
Arran nodded. “I shall.” She and Mary climbed into the car and drove off. Arran watched them go, his eye following the passage their car…and he glimpsed a dark haired man ducking behind a blue public mailbox.
Arran’s eyes narrowed.
He walked away at an unhurried pace, keeping the mailbox in the corner of his vision. After a moment the dark-haired man stood and strode away. Arran had seen him before. He had been following Ally, along with an older bearded man. He had assumed them to be bodyguards.
Yet Ally knew nothing of any bodyguards.
Arran decided to investigate for himself. He loosed his gun in its holster and started after the dark-haired young man.
###
Mary punched the gas, her old car rumbling forward. “So why were you hanging out with him anyway?”
“I don’t know,” said Ally. “He was telling me about himself.”
Mary snorted. “Oh, sure. I suppose he likes foreign films, long walks on the beach, and sitting before a fireplace with a glass of wine.”
Ally thought about this for a moment. “I don’t think he even knows what a movie is.”
Mary shook her head. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you see in him.”
“That’s not it,” said Ally, rubbing her hands together. “I don’t see anything in him.”
“You do too,” said Mary. “I saw you watching him.”
“Fine!” snapped Ally. “Maybe I do. Does it matter?” She tapped the heater’s dial. “Does this thing even work? It’s freezing in here.”
“Sometimes,” said Mary. “It’s an old car. The rest of the time I bring a cup of very hot coffee.” She sighed. “I’m just worried about you, okay?”
Ally rolled her eyes. “Mary. You’re always worried about me. We must have had this conversation about ten thousand times.”
“Yeah, but now I’m really worried about you.” They pulled up to a stoplight. Mary reached under the seat, retrieved a pair of gloves, and pulled them onto her hands. “I mean, it’s just not like you, hanging out with this guy twice your age.”
“I think he’s only ten or eleven years older than me.”
“Oh, big difference.” The light turned green. Mary gunned the engine, and the car jerked forward with a roar and a cloud of smoke. “So why are you talking to him?”
“He’s telling me about his life, about his home,” said Ally. Mary would never believe Arran’s story of other worlds and flying demons and the Tower. “Mary…I think he’s telling the truth, because…I recognize some of the names, I think. You know how I don’t remember anything before I was ten? I think he’s telling me about wherever I came from before I was adopted.”
“Oh, wow,” said Mary. “So you must have been adopted from a foreign country, then.”
Ally thought about it. “Probably. And…I’m going to find out, tonight. At dinner. Mom and Dad are going to tell me everything. And…I think the truth’s going to match the stuff Arran’s been telling me.”
“Wow.” Mary bit her lip. “I was going to come, but maybe I shouldn’t. This sounds like a family thing, you know?”
“No,” said Ally. “You’re coming. You’re like family to me. I want you to hear this.”
“Okay,” said Mary.
They drove into the night.
###
Wycliffe stood in the loading yard and watched.
Marugon had taken over six of Wycliffe Consolidated Shipping’s vans. Each had been loaded with a pair of winged demons and a dozen changelings. Six more winged demons circled overhead, their eyes burning with inner fire, the streetlamps gleaming off their black armor. Each winged demon carried enough pistols, submachine guns, and grenades to conquer a small country, along with their black scimitars. They wore their black armor as well, a collection of overlapping steel plates that resembled the exoskeleton of a nightmarish insect.
Lord Marugon strode out of warehouse 13A, followed by Goth. The king of the winged demons wore his overlapping black plate armor, adorned with spikes and serrated edges. A crown of red gold rested on his head, and his eyes burned with crimson light. Dread and menace flowed off him in waves, like a nightmare given life and form.
But Goth seemed as nothing next to the aura of cold power surrounding Marugon.
Marugon stopped and faced Wycliffe. “You have made the preparations?” His eyes were pits into utter nothingness.
Wycliffe nodded. “The vans are ready.” He had made sure to have his company’s logo painted over. “The winged ones are armed and ready, and the changelings are loaded.”
“Good. Goth-Mar-Dan.” Marugon turned, and Wycliffe noticed that Goth wore a microphone headset. “The six of your kin who have already taken flight. Order them to the location.”
Goth growled into the microphone. The six demons circling over the compound spun and shot away to the north, their massive wings flapping.
“Where have you sent them?” said Wycliffe.
“Three shall go to Ally Wester’s dorm room,” said Marugon, “in case she remains there. The other three shall fly to the Westers’ house, and keep watch over it until we arrive.”
Wycliffe jerked his head at the waiting vans. “And the rest?”
Marugon grinned. “Have you not realized it already, Vice President Wycliffe? We shall go to the Westers’ house and kill everyone we find.”
Wycliffe nodded. “All right. Fine. Just…just try not to make too much of a mess. Don’t let too many people see the winged ones, please. Or the changelings.”
Marugon gave him a chill look. “Neither Lithon Scepteris nor this Ally Wester will survive this night.” Another van pulled up, and Marugon and Goth walked towards it.
Wycliffe watched them go, nervousness eating at him.
###
Dr. Heloise Francis made up her mind.
She closed her laptop and left her office, locking the door behind her. Ally Wester deserved to know the truth. She would tell the young woman about Arran, about this strange man who had come seeking her younger brother. And it would be up to Ally to decide what to do then. If she wanted, Dr. Francis would introduce her to Arran.
Or she would send Arran away.
Dr. Francis walked toward Ally’s dorm, determined to see this to the end.
###
Arran followed the dark-haired young man.
The young man turned off into a narrow side street, lined by cramped houses. Arran slowed his walk and made a show of searching through his pockets, the way the people of Chicago often did when their cell phones rang. The young man turned and vanished into a narrow alley between two houses.
Arran grinned.
The young man was trying to lead him into a trap. Arran had done it himself, many times, to unsuspecting gunmen. He would have to proceed with caution, but he knew he could outwit Ally’s stalkers.
Arran slipped a Glock from its shoulder holster, keeping it hidden beneath his overcoat. He started towards the alley, his worn old boots making no sound against the concrete.
###
“Here we are,” said Mary, pulling into the driveway.
Ally stared up at the lights of her parents' house and swallowed. She did not want to do this. A part of her mind screamed for her to stop, to keep Katrina and Simon from telling the dark secrets of her past. But another part of her mind, the part that had believed Arran, knew she had to continue. She could not hide from the past forever, no matter how hard she tried.
Mary reached over and squeezed her hand. “You okay?”
Ally tried to smile. “Yeah.”
“You’re lying.” Mary shut off the engine and dropped the keys into her purse.
“I know,” said Ally. “But I can get through this. I mean, it’s just the truth, right? How awful can that be?” She climbed out of the car.
“You
told me the truth about Nathan,” said Mary, “and I didn’t believe you. I think the truth can be pretty hard, Ally.”
Ally pulled out her keys and unlocked the front door. “That’s very profound.”
“Now don’t get sarcastic on me,” said Mary.
“Me? Sarcastic? Never.” Ally pushed the door open and looked around the living room.
“Ally!” Lithon bounded across the room and wrapped her in a hug.
“Oof!” Ally grabbed at the doorframe for balance. “Hey, don’t squeeze me to death, huh?” She grinned. “Happy birthday, Lithon.”
“Thanks,” he said, fidgeting. Even as a small child, Lithon had seemed hyperactive. It had gotten worse as he had grown older. “You know, Mom and Dad say they have something really important to tell us. I wonder what it is? Do you think we’ll go back to Europe?”
“Maybe,” said Ally. She hung up her coat.
“Mary cooked supper.”
Ally laughed. “Thank God.”
Lithon lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Mom I said this, but sometimes…her cooking tastes a little funny.”
“I heard that!” Katrina walked into the living room. “It’s healthy, I’ll have you know. You’ll thank me in thirty years when your blood pressure’s still good.”
“You sound like such a mom.” Ally hugged her mother. “You okay?” Katrina had dark circles under her eyes, and a hint of strain on her face.
“I’m fine.” Katrina shook her head. “No, I’m really not.”
“What’s wrong?” said Ally and Lithon in unison.
Katrina looked at the floor. “We’ve…well, we’ve got a lot to tell you. A lot. And…I don’t think you’ll like some of it.” She waved at the dining room. “Come on, let’s go eat. Mary made pot roast and mashed potatoes.”
“Neat,” said Lithon. But some of his excitement had cooled.
A Wizard of the White Council Page 17
