FoM02 Trammel

by Anah Crow

  “Things are hunting us,” he managed to say. “I think I felt one of them back in Detroit, a flicker, but I didn’t know what it was. They’ve gotten more intense since we moved away from the lake, coming here.

  There are Hounds here too.”

  “I have to get Zoey.” Ylli was airborne before all words were out of his mouth.

  “You didn’t tell us?” Kristan stepped forward to grab Lindsay, but Noah warded her off with his handful of flame.

  “His reasons are his own.” Noah turned that burning stare on her. “He’s told us now.”

  “We can go back to Detroit,” Lindsay said quietly, reaching out to put a hand on Noah’s chest, soothing both of them. “It didn’t find us there and I know what to watch for now. Since it hasn’t found us, it may not look there again. But I think we have to get out of here.” Even the house in Detroit was better than this. Lindsay had never imagined wanting to go back.

  “I’ll leave a trail for you to follow when Ylli gets back.” Noah threw fire on the ground, where it burned without touching the grass. “I’m taking Lindsay to the car.”

  “Go on.” Kristan stepped back toward the trees. “Be careful.”

  “I would never do less.” Noah slid his arm around Lindsay’s shoulders and drew him in. He started leading Lindsay back to the car, trailing a thread of fire behind them.

  Lindsay leaned into him, conserving his energy and putting all his magic behind an illusion that was so perfect, it was the next best thing to real. All that training with Dane had done him good. But he couldn’t stop the relentless whisper in his head that wouldn’t let him forget—he’d never won that race.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was little relief to be found on the long drive home. For one thing, they were crammed into the car and no one could really claim to be comfortable, not even Lindsay, who was pressed up close against Noah while Kristan drove. Noah’s eyes were closed, but Lindsay could feel his tension. In the back, Ylli was worst off, with his wings folded along his sides as best he could and his back to the door. Zoey had curled up at the opposite end of the backseat and, when Lindsay glanced back, her eyes were a flicker of suspicion and confusion in the dark.

  There was no chance of Lindsay relaxing, not even in Noah’s arms. Even after the searching pressure was off of them and the last hint of the Hounds was far behind, he couldn’t let it go. Moore had someone—

  or something—new that hunted thoughts. The mind searching for them hadn’t been Lourdes and—for some reason—he was certain that she hadn’t betrayed them. They wouldn’t have made it out in one piece if she had. His only consolation was that his illusions seemed to hold up against the new threat.

  After an hour on the road, Kristan finally spoke.

  “Back to the same place?”

  Noah shifted at the sound of her voice and Lindsay glanced up to find Noah looking down at him expectantly. It hadn’t occurred to Lindsay to go anywhere else. They had a few friends—or at least a few resources—and whatever had been searching for them before had been there once and left empty-handed.

  “Yes.” If they were staying in Patches’s territory... There was so much he still didn’t know. “I should go speak to Patches, ask her permission.”

  “No.” Lindsay got the word in stereo as both Noah and Kristan spoke at once.

  “You’ll look weak if you go,” Noah explained. “We can’t do that. You should let someone else go for you. At least send Kristan, and someone else.”

  Like a delegation. Lindsay could appreciate that.

  “You should come,” Kristan said, glancing over at Noah.

  “I’m not leaving the house unprotected.”

  Lindsay felt irritation wash through Noah’s body as his muscles rippled. Suddenly, he saw Cyrus in his mind’s eye, with Vivian and Dane having a similar argument. The image made him want to laugh—the more things changed, the more they stayed the same—almost as much as it made his chest ache with grief. It was up to him to settle these things now.

  “I need you to go if she says it will help.” Lindsay shifted to see Noah better, and he cupped Noah’s hot cheek in his hand. “We’ll be less safe if Patches decides we’re more trouble to have around than not.”

  Noah’s jaw clenched, but he kissed Lindsay’s palm. “As you will.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t make me pull this thing over to puke,” Kristan muttered.

  Noah laughed at that, softly, without taking his eyes from Lindsay. He relaxed enough to give Lindsay a soft kiss on the mouth that was as welcome as clean water. Lindsay leaned into it, seeking comfort, and was rewarded with Noah pulling him close.

  Maybe he’d try to rest a little now. With Noah’s kisses stealing his tension, Lindsay finally felt the weight of all his exhaustion. He wove the illusion that hid them tighter. If it slipped in his sleep, it would still be strong enough to hold until he was awake. Only then did he rest his head on Noah’s shoulder and close his eyes.

  The motion of Noah carefully moving to get him out of the car was enough to wake Lindsay, even though the bright light of day hadn’t kept him from sleeping for the last hour of the trip. The drive had been uneventful but tedious, and Lindsay’s head was throbbing with the unbearable tension of nothing happening.

  “Kristan and I are going to see Patches now.” Noah helped Lindsay out of the car and slid an arm around him to make sure he was steady on his feet. “It’s best if we’re there during her normal business hours and have an audience of sorts. Word spreads and people will know we’re welcome if she agrees to let us stay.”

  They’ll know we’re not welcome if she says no. Lindsay bit back the bitter words, feeling the bile of rejection and fear and rootlessness bubbling to the surface.

  “She won’t say no.” Kristan came around the front of the car, tossing the keys and catching them again with an irritating ching-chunk noise that went straight to Lindsay’s brain. “She likes you, and she won’t pass on Noah.”

  Lindsay looked up in time to catch the wolfish grin Kristan aimed at Noah and—if he’d been Dane—

  his hackles would have gone up. Noah was his, and not for anyone to be taking as payment for anything.

  “Noah’s not on offer,” he snapped and headed toward the house, forcing Noah to keep up or let go.

  “She’s taking the piss out of me because of my family,” Noah murmured. “That’s all. Patches isn’t going to give up the chance to give refuge to a Quinn.”

  Lindsay had forgotten there had ever been a time that Noah wasn’t his, that Noah had once belonged to something more powerful. More safe.

  “Not that it matters.” Noah kissed his hair as they made their way into the house. “If she likes to think it does, she can, but I’m not one of them anymore.”

  “You’d be safer if you were,” Lindsay pointed out.

  “I’d rather be yours.”

  Noah’s tone had the edge that Lindsay knew meant—for all that Noah was his—Noah wasn’t going to be yielding on the matter. He let Noah help him to bed and tuck him in, telling himself that it was to make Noah happy and no more. That didn’t stop him from falling asleep before the car left the driveway.

  Lindsay woke to breakfast—takeout from Apollo 11—brought to him by Ylli.

  “Noah said to tell you that Patches agreed to everything.” Ylli put the takeout bag down on the chair.

  “He and Kristan are putting up some kind of eco-shower tank together, and we have a chemical toilet.

  Patches is going to let us know how to turn the utilities back on, or where to find a generator. Meantime, we have what we need and you can probably shower by noon.”

  Lindsay could have kissed him, but settled for a genuine smile instead. “Thanks. How is Zoey?”

  “Happy to have a bed. I should go check on her, though. You can call if you need anything. Someone will hear.”

  Ylli slipped out with a rustle of wings, and Lindsay was left to enjoy his breakfast and the distant s
ound of Noah and Kristan bickering. He was sure it would drive him crazy tomorrow, but today, it was music to his ears.

  After he finished eating, Lindsay discovered a worn but serviceable armchair in the front room. The day’s papers were on the floor by the chair and, though the windows were papered over, there was enough light to read by.

  He picked up the Free Press, which had a little sidebar article about an escape from the local juvenile detention center, and curled up in the chair to read. “Mysterious Disappearance”, the paper said. Lindsay smiled. They had no idea. Even such a tiny victory felt good.

  “There you are.” Noah came in with a steaming cup in his hand. “Tea?” He didn’t look any worse for wear after all the driving and lack of sleep.

  “Please.” It was strange, being taken care of by Noah—and Kristan and Ylli—but Lindsay was starting to feel more comfortable in his new role. He wasn’t just Dane’s apprentice anymore.

  The transition was made easier by the way Noah seemed to know what Lindsay needed before Lindsay realized it himself. Like the tea.

  “Good thing I made some.” Noah brought the tea over. “Hang on, I think we have...” He trailed off as he left the way he had come, and a moment later, the back door opened and closed.

  “Here.” Noah came back with a milk crate in one hand and another cup of tea and a plastic bag in the other. He dropped and nudged the crate into place for use as an end table, and sat on the floor.

  “Thank you. Not just for the—” Lindsay raised his cup in salute. “For all of this. If we’re going to be here a while...” And it certainly looked like they could be. None of them had anywhere else to go, not now.

  “Might as well make the best of it, right?” Noah turned the contents of the bag out carefully and started poking through them. It looked like a haul from thrift stores and pawnshops. Various bits of broken

  gold jewelry went into the bag again, but he kept out several little bags of old coins. “It’s not like we haven’t done this before, the rest of us. Well, aside from Zoey. Not a skill you can put on a job application, but it’s useful.”

  “Dane dug me out of a dumpster and brought me back to Cyrus,” Lindsay said, sipping his tea again, remembering what it had felt like to wake up in that big, warm bed with Dane watching over him.

  Terrifying, at first, and then more wonderful than anything he could have imagined. “I never really had to make do on my own. What are you doing?”

  “Arts and crafts time.” Noah started sorting coins by size. “Making a set of runes, to start. Divination games are common when you’re a kid, where I grew up. I wasn’t bad at it. Well, pretty good, really. I think that’s one of the reasons I went so long before they finally broke down and admitted I wasn’t going to be any use. All the early signs were there. But they never turned into anything else.”

  Lindsay wondered if that would be worse or better than what he’d lived with, the knowledge that he’d never been what his parents had wanted in a son. “When do people usually...come into their magic?”

  “Some people are born with it, like second sight. That’s disappointing, too, for a lot of families. It means the child won’t ever have much else. The material has to be strong enough for the magic, and if the magic arises while the material is weak, either the magic is weak or the child will die. So, it starts cropping up as early as seven and as late as your teens.” Noah scooped up what seemed to be the rejected coins and shook them back into a bag. “They like to start seeing it around puberty. The brain has major shifts then, and it’s important for the magic to run in the body and develop with it. The later the manifestation, the more likely there are to be complications.”

  Complications. Lindsay had been seventeen; he supposed that was on the late side according to Noah’s math. Not as late as Noah’s had been.

  These were all questions he hadn’t thought to ask Dane or Cyrus. Or Taniel and Izia and Ezqel, when they’d been working to fix his broken magic. Each time he thought his questions had been answered, new ones arose in their place. His curiosity was such a contrast to how he’d once clung to ignorance and wished his magic would fade away from neglect.

  “What are the runes supposed to do?”

  “They give you basic guidance. Depending on how they fall, they let you know the nature of things surrounding a choice or direction.” Noah felt in his pockets and came up with a small pencil that he used to make a mark on a coin. “They’re the same runes we still use to create artifacts. The magic in us knows them, because our minds know them. Some people say that gives them extra power, that magic remembers them. That the stones do, or the metal. You could use anything that was familiar enough to you, with practice.”

  Lindsay wondered if he’d be able to learn to do something like that. Make runes, and use them. He set the tea on the crate, and folded up the newspaper and tucked it into the seat beside him, so he could lean forward to watch Noah instead. “Can I see?”

  “Sure.” Noah scooped up the coins and shifted to lean against Lindsay’s chair. “There’s twenty-four. I try to make sure they’re about the same. When I was a kid, I’d have to use a tool to mark them. Not anymore...”

  Noah held up a coin that had pencil marks on it, a simple X. A tiny line of flame crept over the pencil marks and flared white. Where the marks had been, there were blackened grooves. He tossed it in the air and bounced it off his palm.

  “Hot, hot, hot...” Noah laughed and caught it, then passed it back to Lindsay. Tentatively, Lindsay touched the inset marks, but they were barely warm now.

  “You’ll do that to all of them? What would someone with another kind of magic do?” Lindsay leaned over Noah’s shoulder to return the coin. Heat radiated off Noah’s body, and Lindsay couldn’t resist, he nuzzled at Noah’s neck and cheek, feeling some of that warmth up close.

  “You don’t have to bring your magic on them to make it work.” Noah sounded distracted. He cupped Lindsay’s face in his hand and leaned back to return the favor, gently rubbing his stubbled cheek against Lindsay’s. “It helps. But you’d learn to put your mind to it. Magic is around you and in you. The coins spin through it, magic and nature meet, and magic makes nature speak. I must have made a dozen sets as a kid.”

  As Lindsay was about to coax Noah into a kiss, he heard footsteps—a light pat-pat-pat that wasn’t quite what Lindsay had come to associate with Kristan—that stopped out in the hall. He looked up to see Zoey standing in the doorway, dark eyes wide and one hand over her mouth.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, um. To interrupt.”

  “That’s okay. You’re interrupting Lindsay interrupting.” Noah laughed at that and nosed Lindsay’s cheek before letting him go. He put the finished rune down and went back to writing on the remaining coins.

  Lindsay snorted and rubbed his hand over Noah’s bristly scalp. He knew Noah hadn’t minded the distraction. “It’s fine,” he assured Zoey. “Come on in. I’d offer you a place to sit, but...” There hadn’t been time to bring anything else in yet. His chair must have been here when they arrived. “Pull up a piece of floor, I suppose?”

  Zoey hesitated another moment before nodding firmly, like she was convincing herself it was all right.

  She padded across the room and dropped to the floor to sit across from Noah. She was silent, picking at her nails and glancing up at Lindsay. Lindsay waited, but whatever it was she needed to say never came.

  “You’ve had a rough few days,” he offered as a starting point.

  She seemed relieved by that, taking it as the invitation it had been. “Yes. Oh man. Ylli said... Well, he kind of explained stuff, but I still don’t know what’s going on. I get that I, um, I kind of made a big mess

  back there in Wildwood, and those people, they wanted to do some kind of experiments on me or something. That woman, the doctor, she...” Zoey shook her head, trailing off.

  “She’s been at this a while,” Noah said dryly. “The mess wasn’t your fault. Can you say what happened? Before
she came. Was there anything strange?” He looked like he was busy with what he was doing, but Lindsay could feel him listening for something.

  Zoey’s face scrunched up, and she picked her nails as she thought about what Noah was asking. “The punch clock broke again. It’s supposed to interface with the computers, but it’s glitchy, and it wiped out all my hours for the second time this month. I got screwed out of money I needed last time it happened.” She looked uncomfortable. “It was funny at first, with the computers acting weird, but I got scared. I could see what was in my head spilling out everywhere, on the screens, over the speakers. And then everything kind of...went crazy.”

  “That sounds about right.” Noah shrugged and looked over his shoulder at Lindsay. “The focus is rare, but the rest seems normal for someone raised mundane.”

  Lindsay nodded. His own manifestation hadn’t been much different from what she was describing.

  “Noah’s right. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

  Zoey didn’t look like she entirely believed them. “Um. Ylli said... He said some people got lost when you guys got me out of that place, that the, um, Cyrus, he wasn’t the only one who got hurt. I’m really sorry. If there’s anything I can do...”

  Lindsay swallowed hard and looked down at Noah. No, Cyrus wasn’t the only one who’d gotten hurt.

  The loss of Cyrus was awful, and Lindsay kept shoving it out of his mind. He didn’t have time to deal with it right now. But Dane...and Noah.

  Noah reached back and found one of Lindsay’s hands with his, tangling their fingers together. The touch soothed him. At times like this, Lindsay missed Dane so intensely it felt like the only thing keeping him sane was knowing Noah understood him and wouldn’t let him lose Dane completely.

  “That wasn’t your fault either.” Lindsay met her eyes. “We knew what we were doing when we went to help you. I wouldn’t have let her keep you.”

  “You’re not the first one she’s tried to add to her collection of experiments,” Noah said without looking up. The coins were all laid out in front of him now, waiting to be permanently marked. “We have more to do before we can rest. I’m sorry we can’t take the time to let you get your bearings. You’ve been feeling all right, other than the problems associated with living in a tree?”