FoM02 Trammel

by Anah Crow

  “Interrogation rooms,” Lindsay said, lagging behind like a reluctant child. His brow was creased when he finally looked up at Noah. “I suppose Moore knew we wouldn’t just give up, so she had to put Zoey somewhere. She was probably counting on Jonas to hold Dane off if we showed up.”

  “That didn’t work out too well for her, did it?”

  “No.” Lindsay stopped dead, bringing Noah to a halt as well.

  “What?” Noah looked around for some danger but there was nothing there that he could see.

  “If Jonas is here...” Lindsay trailed off, his cold hand clenching Noah’s. “I haven’t felt Lourdes.”

  “Who?” Noah wished he’d been given some kind of primer when he’d arrived. His senses were still jangling with the memory of Jonas flailing in the elevator and he couldn’t think straight.

  “She’s... I don’t know who she is. Dane calls her ‘the girl’ sometimes. Like he calls Jonas ‘the dog’.”

  Lindsay shuddered, then shoved his phone in his pocket. “Nevermind. Let’s just get out of here.” He let go of Noah’s hand and started walking again, then broke into a jog, leaving Noah to catch up.

  Noah kept trying not to think of what Jonas would look like if he got out of the elevator shaft. He could have done a hundred other things to stop someone, but apparently blowing heads off and incinerating people was where his brain went first. It wasn’t a good precedent. It wasn’t like him. Or maybe it was.

  They came around a corner and were faced with a long hall that led to what looked like an exit.

  “Let me go first.” Noah wasn’t about to send Lindsay out the door when he didn’t know what was on the other side.

  They stepped onto a walkway above an open room filled with computer terminals. There were stairs, at least, two sets that led down into an open media lab that was surprisingly busy for this time of night.

  Wide LED screens flashed multiple scenes of violence, uniformed staff and soldiers crossed the floor, running about their business like ants. Noah pushed back on the door, but it was locked.

  EXIT ONLY. Why didn’t it say that on the other side? He wasn’t going to panic, not until a set of double doors down below slammed open and soldiers came tromping through, scattering the workers.

  “That’s the ground floor down there,” Lindsay whispered, drawing Noah farther along the walkway.

  “We never made it to the second level. I’ll see if I can—”

  A door opened opposite them, cutting Lindsay off, and a second squad of soldiers stepped out onto the walkway, accompanied by a young woman. She was as pale and as luminous as Lindsay, except her fair hair held a hint of firelight instead of snow.

  “Lourdes.” The tone of Lindsay’s voice made her sound even worse than Jonas had been.

  As soon as Noah met her eyes, he knew her. Not who she was, but what she was. He felt her mind on his, trying to find a way to separate him from his will. He shoved Lindsay away as hard as he could—he wasn’t going to be made into the thing that trapped him—and turned on Lourdes. As her will crept over his, he grasped his magic.

  The first fireball splashed into the soldiers she had with her, spattering her but not killing her. Noah didn’t have time to think, she was keeping him from aiming, and so he threw everything he had at her in a single battering ram of fire and outrage.

  He knew exactly when he lost his grip. He could feel his magic slip from his control like water sliding through his fingers. She had it. She had him.

  Instead of dying on the air, his fire came back at him. He held up his hands as though that would stop it, but it was free. It hit him like a truck, slamming him back against the wall, and began to feed.

  Lindsay watched it all happen in slow motion. Lourdes’s narrowed eyes, Noah’s outstretched hands—

  Lindsay knew what was coming, but he couldn’t stop it. He’d beaten Lourdes once before, but only because of Moore’s runes and artifacts. Without them, his illusions wouldn’t fool her; she was too strong.

  And Lindsay had nothing else with which to fight.

  As Noah’s fire turned, Lindsay sent his magic out in a wave that took in every one of Lourdes’s soldiers.

  “Stop her,” he whispered into their minds. Lourdes may have been strong enough to resist his magic, but her soldiers had no such protection. When they turned on Lourdes, what they saw was the enemy.

  Lindsay saw something else entirely. Lourdes looked shocked and sad, almost apologetic. Lindsay wasn’t moved.

  He turned away from the firefight as the first shots rang out. The sight of Noah erased the rest of the scene. The flames were dying, but Noah was dying too. His breathing was harsh and ragged past his cracked lips, and most of his hands were simply...gone.

  Kneeling, Lindsay used his own jacket to tamp out the last of the flames. He had to stop it. He had to help. Somehow. He couldn’t let Noah die like this.

  “Lindsay! Get up!” Awareness returned with a rattle of gunfire from soldiers below. Dane was calling up to him from one level down and the soldiers there were shooting at him.

  Lindsay sent out a second illusion to hide them all from the soldiers, dropping the veil of their absence over everything. Later, he could try to set up a false trail. With Lourdes and Jonas out of the way, they were safe, for now. Except Noah.

  “Noah’s hurt,” he called down to Dane. “I need help getting him out of here.”

  Dane was at the top of the stairs almost before Lindsay was done talking.

  “Shit.” He came loping over and, very carefully, guided Lindsay away from Noah. “Go downstairs.

  Ylli and Zoey are waiting. We don’t have time to waste.” His expression was as pained as if he’d been hurt himself.

  “Be careful with him?” Lindsay knew his mind was simply glossing over the awareness of how badly Noah was hurt, but he didn’t try to push past it. They had to get out of here, get Noah to a healer, and then he could start dealing with the blackened flesh and worse.

  “Lindsay.” Dane bent down and carefully slid one arm under Noah’s shoulders. “I’m not leaving his body here, but I won’t let him suffer, either. Go downstairs.”

  Lindsay started toward the stairs, but as his foot hit the first step, Dane’s words sank in— his body, I won’t let him suffer— and he knew what Dane meant to do.

  “No.” He couldn’t let Dane kill Noah, not even if it was the right thing, not without trying to save him.

  “I can...I can fix this.” Lindsay turned back, ready to stop Dane. “I can keep it from hurting. I can keep him alive. Let me try.”

  “He’s dying, Lindsay,” Dane said gently. “If you’re wrong, he’s going to die in a lot of pain. Either way, he’s going to die, and soon. He’s yours, though. Your call.”

  Lindsay met Dane’s eyes and saw the sorrow there. “I understand.”

  He turned his attention to Noah, slipping an illusion over him like a blanket. No burns, no wounds, no pain. Noah was healthy, but he had to keep still, very still.

  Even when he pulled back to reality, sealing the illusion over Noah, Lindsay could feel the heat radiating from Noah’s body, a searing heat that Lindsay knew was still burning him alive. But, Noah began breathing more evenly.

  “I think it’s safe to move him.”

  “Is something...? Oh shit.” Ylli was at the top of the stairs. “Oh God. We have to go, can we go?”

  There was a girl with him and he shielded her from the sight of Noah with his wings.

  “We’re going.” Dane gathered Noah up carefully. “You know the way. Lindsay, go on.”

  “Thank you.” Lindsay didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and ran down the stairs, past the soldiers—who couldn’t see him anyway—and heading toward the doors. The corridor beyond was the same one they’d started in. They’d been so close to making it out before Lourdes found them. But now the double doors at the end of the corridor seemed miles away.

  Lindsay led the way, glancing back now and then to see Noah in Dane’s arms,
and Ylli and Zoey following behind them.

  Dane kept checking over his shoulder. The closer they got to the doors, the more perturbed he looked.

  “Ylli.” Dane’s voice was flat. Dead. “Take Noah.”

  “I, um...” Ylli waffled and Lindsay could hear him gulp. “Okay.” Ylli nudged Zoey toward Lindsay.

  “Stay with Lindsay,” he said. “Try not to look. And keep going.” He turned and held out his arms, going gray in the face as Dane gave Noah over to him.

  “The Hounds are coming,” Dane said, as he tucked Lindsay’s jacket around Noah. “You three go to the van. Lindsay, let them see me. I’ll lead them away and come home when I lose them.”

  With Noah in Ylli’s arms, Dane herded them toward the doors. Zoey looked terrified, but stuck close to Lindsay as Ylli had said.

  Once they were through the doors, Lindsay released the part of the illusion that had been shielding Dane from the Hounds. He hated the idea of leaving Dane behind, but Dane could take care of himself.

  Lindsay had learned to run when he had to.

  Lindsay turned to Dane, hesitating as long as he dared, with the soldiers coming after them. “Be safe.”

  There was no time for more. He heard the howling of the Hounds behind them, but all he could do was keep running. The driveway felt twice as long now. Kristan would be at the gate waiting for them.

  They would be away soon. A little farther. That was all that mattered.

  Lindsay saw the gate now, and the van parked inside the circle of lights beyond it. He reached back and grabbed Zoey’s wrist to make sure she stayed close. Somehow, Ylli kept up, wings half-spread for balance, driven by his feral strength. It was easy to forget he was one of Dane’s kind.

  Then the distance was gone and the van was looming in front of them, side door gaping. Lindsay slid into the back first. He didn’t think he’d ever been so happy to see Kristan.

  “The healer,” he said as Ylli leaned inside to ease Noah into his arms. “Noah’s hurt. We have to go see the healer.”

  Kristan turned and caught a glimpse of Noah. “Holy Mother of God. Yes. C’mon, girl, get in.” Zoey scrambled around Ylli and Kristan hauled her over the console and into the front seat. “Buckle up.”

  “We’re not waiting for Dane.” Ylli slammed the sliding door closed. “Just drive.” Pulling his wings forward, he crouched down with his back to Kristan’s seat and braced himself as she put the van in drive.

  Lindsay turned his attention to Noah, who was still breathing slowly and evenly in his arms. The pain Noah should have been in ate at the back of Lindsay’s mind, but he had to ignore it and keep Noah safe.

  He’d promised to keep Noah safe.

  When Kristan took a curve too tightly and the tires squealed, Noah’s eyes fluttered open, panic pushing him into consciousness. “I was dreaming again,” he managed to say.

  Oh God. “Yes. But you’re going to be all right.” Lindsay didn’t know what else to say. He pressed his cold hands to Noah’s hot face and willed the pain further away from Noah’s consciousness.

  “I can’t wake up.” Lindsay could barely make out the words. “I need to wake up now.”

  “It’s all right,” Lindsay soothed. “I’ve got you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Noah murmured. He tried to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t manage to stay awake.

  “Should we do anything?” Ylli had shifted to his knees and now he shuffled closer. He was whispering as though Noah were asleep. “I mean, water or anything? Kristan called Negasi, but...” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Noah directly, but he kept glancing over.

  Water. Maybe. Lindsay didn’t know if that would make things better or worse. “I don’t know. Noah, do you want a drink of water?”

  “It’s hot. I’m thirsty.” Noah slipped in and out of sleep as fast as Lindsay usually did. “What happened?” He focused on Lindsay’s face, briefly. “What’s wrong, Lin?”

  “It’s all right, Noah.” Lindsay trusted that Ylli would deal with finding a bottle of water in the dark van, while he focused on Noah. “You got a little hurt, that’s all. You’re going to be fine.”

  “Here.” Ylli held out a bottle. “Lid’s off.”

  “Thanks.” Lindsay ignored the way Ylli’s hand shook. He helped Noah raise his head a little and took the bottle, holding it to Noah’s lips. “Slowly, Noah. Little sips.”

  “Water?” Noah was almost inaudible, but he sounded offended. He managed not to choke on the water, but he turned his head away after the first sip and closed his eyes.

  Lindsay held the bottle out to Ylli. “Put the lid on it,” he said quietly. “And tell Kristan to hurry the fuck up already.”

  “Is he...?” Ylli didn’t finish the sentence. He shuffled away to do what he was told, and Lindsay could hear his low, tense exchange with Kristan.

  Negasi’s place was too far away, but there was no one else. It would take even longer to get home and there wasn’t anything Cyrus could do to help.

  As Noah’s body struggled to cope with the burns, Lindsay had to do more and more not only to keep him from suffering, but also just to keep him alive. Lindsay lost track of time, focusing on Noah to the exclusion of all else. Noah’s lungs began to swell, and Lindsay had to fight that back with another layer of illusion.

  They needed a healer. Now.

  “We’re here.”

  Suddenly, it was very dark, and Lindsay realized that Kristan had just taken a corner. They were probably in a back alley somewhere.

  “I bet Negasi’s going to be thrilled to see us again,” she said dryly. “You, stay here.” She had to be talking to Zoey. “I’ll go get him. Ylli, help Lindsay.” With that, she was out of the van. The side door slid open a moment later, but she didn’t stay.

  “Let me take him,” Ylli offered. Lindsay could tell by the waver in his voice that he was trying to tough it out. “I’m way stronger than you are.”

  “Be careful with him.”

  Lindsay helped Ylli get Noah into his arms and followed him out of the van. There wasn’t much room between the van and the back of a large building, and enough light that Lindsay could make out that they were in an alley behind—if the faded paint on the brick was to be believed— Val’s Barber Shop: best shave in town. The door Kristan must have gone through was closed, and there was no one to be seen. Aside from the distant noise of the city at night, all Lindsay could hear was the struggle of Noah’s breath and muffled sniffles from the girl in the front seat.

  “They’re coming,” Ylli said moments before the door popped open.

  “I didn’t see it happen,” Kristan was saying. “I have to get out of here fast, so let’s get on with it.

  Ylli!”

  “Bring him in.” The healer in the doorway was the same one Lindsay had seen when Noah and Kristan had gotten into it back at the house, the same one who had only yesterday taken care of Cyrus.

  Negasi, they’d called him. Had it been only yesterday? The chaos at Wildwood seemed so long ago already.

  “Quickly. And you’re not going yet.” Negasi snagged Kristan as she slipped past. “I may need you to get more help.”

  He held the door for Ylli to carry Noah inside. Lindsay waited long enough to gesture for Zoey to join them, then followed him in. The back room of the barbershop looked like Lindsay’s pediatrician’s office—

  the last normal doctor he’d been to—except for the runes etched into the base of the exam table, the painted drum hanging on the wall, and the faint smell of tobacco in the air.

  “On the table.” Negasi turned the light on over the table and gestured at Kristan. “Go to the shelf in the corner and light the three pillar candles.”

  Kristan looked dubious—the candles were clustered around the feet of a brass idol—but she did what she was told.

  Zoey huddled near the door, arms wrapped around herself, staring at the floor. Lindsay hoped she wouldn’t bolt in the confusion. Ylli laid Noah down, keeping his face turned away. As so
on as he was free, he scurried back to Zoey’s side. Whatever he was saying to her sounded consoling.

  “Let me take a look,” Negasi said cheerfully. The next moment, as he actually did look, the air went out of him sharply.

  “I know,” Lindsay said quickly. “I know it’s bad. But he’s alive. He’s not hurting. I made sure of that.” They just had to help him heal. That was all.

  Negasi nodded slowly, then shook himself. “I will do what I can. It won’t be enough. I will need another for help, if I can stabilize him. His life is sliding away.” He steeled himself and started to peel Lindsay’s jacket off of Noah’s flesh. “There are linens in the hall, in a closet.”

  “I’ll get them,” Ylli said quickly, heading for the door.

  “You’ll go to the van,” Kristan snapped. “Cyrus will fucking kill us if we lose that girl. Take her home. Talk about your war game or something. Compare motherboards.” She shoved him toward Zoey, who had started to sniffle quietly again. “Move. Get her home. I’ll get whatever the doctor needs.”

  Ylli left, tucking Zoey under one wing. Once they were gone, the absence of Ylli’s revulsion and Zoey’s sniffling brought Lindsay a relief so sharp it was physical. Now, he could focus on what mattered—

  Noah.

  “Can I do anything to help? I’m keeping him from feeling the pain, trying to keep his brain convinced there are no burns so his lungs won’t swell up too much for him to breathe, but I don’t...” Lindsay didn’t know what else to do. Noah’s body was failing—he could feel a dark chill creeping over the back of his mind—and he didn’t know how to fix any of it.

  “You will need to stop. That is what you can do,” Negasi said. His dark face had gone ashen. “I do not want there to be any accidents. His body must know it is wounded before it can heal.”

  “Here.” Kristan came back in with a stack of paper-wrapped linens. “What needs doing?”

  “Cover him. He cannot keep himself warm and he needs all his energy. We are too late to worry about keeping him clean.” Negasi glanced at Lindsay. “I will tell you when to stop.” He placed one hand on Noah’s forehead and the other at the nape of Noah’s neck and closed his eyes.