The Wishing Heart

by J. C. Welker

  The Prince stood now as a skeleton. Immortal.

  Screams filled the air. And then there, hundreds of layers below the city, the Siren lunged with her mermaids, the guards sprang into the air, lycanthropes charged fully formed—and chaos was unleashed.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  If Dante’s Inferno had ever come to life, Rebel imagined this would be it.

  From across the Moon Court came the confused noise of magic going wrong. It was like nothing she’d ever seen. The now-skeleton Prince lost his balance, absent of muscles, and collapsed onto his throne, bone crashing against stone, his staff slipping from his fleshless fingers. His beauty no more. Shadows dispersed, and she heard the unmistakable clash of steel against iron. All hell filled the earthen ballroom as figures scattered in all directions.

  In one fluid leap, Wulfram launched into midair—hanging there in an elongated moment before his form transmuted. Again, he was lycan, pelt bristling, fangs clashing together, plowing straight toward the Siren’s throat. Melusine sang a melody, and the mermen hit him squarely in the chest, sending them tumbling in a snarling jumble. With answering battle cries, guards and wolves charged the mermaids, who met them head-on, claws tearing, tridents slashing. Attacks were sent in the Siren’s direction, becoming the center of a lightning storm of fury.

  A hand tugged Rebel’s arm through the cage.

  “Hurry,” Anjeline called.

  Before she could set into motion, a figure pivoted around a lycan and landed right in front of where her satchel was located. Her eyes snapped to Jaxon’s, unsure whether he would betray her again—alert the Siren, or possibly wrestle her for the vase. But Jaxon slid the bag across the floor to her, and he was once more swept up into the battle.

  Anjeline’s hand squeezed her arm, cutting through her surprise. Rebel had no time to wonder at Jaxon’s help or whatever he was doing there. For now, they were being ignored by the chaos. Forgotten. The fight not about them anymore.

  But that luck wouldn’t last much longer.

  “I’m on it.” Rebel reached inside the cage with the key, feeling beyond the magic ward on the cage. With a click, the door opened. She buried her face in hair as Anjeline grabbed her and mumbled something into her shoulder. Then she felt the leash around her neck being removed.

  “You’re bleeding?” Anjeline glanced down at Rebel’s ankle and the blood on her clothes, mostly Piran’s, staining her in crimson. “Your heart?”

  “Just suffering from severe lack of kisses.”

  That half smile appeared. “Not the time for idle banter. You need my energy.”

  Rebel shook her head. “You lighting up will attract attention.” She glanced around. Lycanthropes and merfolk slashed away at each other. The Siren sang, or was trying to, as red-caps and guards flung themselves into the brawl. Strewn with bodies, the floor was soiled in blood, both red and emerald. Her eyes kept sight of the chaos, afraid the divine luck they were having would be gone in a second. She felt as if her heart could wait.

  She snatched the vase from the cage, feeling the connection take hold, and shoved it in her bag. Anjeline gave a quick look over her shoulder and tensed. “Rebel, hope your heart can take more…”

  A mermaid had broken away from the fighting mass, holding her stomach, and black eyes flicked up, looking straight into theirs. An arm came around the mermaid’s throat, and a switchblade pressed to her chest. Jaxon held her back and gave Rebel a wink. Then he mouthed a single word.

  Run.

  Rebel ran, straight and true, from the pandemonium.

  With her sight on their destination, and Anjeline at her side, they zigzagged through the Court’s maze of different-colored corridors. The wolves inhabiting it before were back amid the skirmish. A dank passageway rose up before them, and they half flung themselves through it, Rebel daring anything to cross her path. Now she felt as if she knew every twist and turn of this Underground citadel. Her feet pounded and a humming coursed through her blood like a rhythm. Her magic.

  As they reached the lycanthrope den, a muffled explosion rocked the walls.

  The residue of blue and red blasts could hardly be seen behind them. The Night Guard must have finally noticed their absence and gotten past the doors and the elemental spheres Rebel had placed as a deterrent. Anjeline tugged her to keep moving. “They’re coming.”

  Together, they flew dauntlessly through the passageway stairs and into the labyrinth of Metro tunnels. Shrieks and wailing of nearby trains approached. Rebel’s feet moved like firecrackers, her ankle throbbing from the bite, shooting up to her heart, while Anjeline barely appeared to have broken a sweat. Her breath stabbed at her lungs as she sucked in the stale air to reoxidize her blood. With every stride they took, the echo of growls sounded. Rebel spared a glance behind her, grateful the tunnel was still empty, but the noises crept to her core, as if the wolves were breathing on her neck.

  If she never saw this place again, it would be too soon.

  “That way.” Anjeline pointed.

  At last, light spilled into the tunnel from a Metro station, and she managed a weak smile. Anjeline tugged her up the ladder hooks set into the stone wall, and they collapsed onto the station platform. A train rushed in, missing them by seconds. Stomping feet hurried past, and the crowd forced their way into the train as Rebel and Anjeline pushed through the throng of people. Some did double takes, not understanding what they were seeing: a fiery-eyed girl and a girl covered in blood. Paying little heed, they climbed the escalators and found their way to the upper-ground world.

  The cold air hit Rebel.

  The night sky circled above, sprinkled in diamond-shaped stars. Anjeline’s eyes met hers, and with fingers intertwined, they kept a speedy pace. Their freedom depending on quickening steps. And Lady Danu’s signal. Rebel lifted the flare from her bag. She pointed the baton-like object and squeezed. The tip blazed, illuminating—and something shot out of it.

  Into the night, a glowing firefly zipped. It glinted as it spun and blurred through the sky, gone faster than a blink. Without a second to lose, they hurried in the direction it was bound for. Westminster Palace. The Sun Court. It would make it there within seconds, informing them she’d escaped with Anjeline, and then the Bright Guard would blow in.

  Even so, by the time they reached the Court, the wolves would already be on their backs. Anjeline knew it, too. “The Court is a good ways. The Night Guard will scent us out before we reach it,” she said.

  “If only we could fly.” Rebel’s breathing started to falter.

  “But you could.” Anjeline looked at her. “Make a wish.”

  Rebel’s brow narrowed, confused after all she’d witnessed with wishes and what came in their wake. “The consequence…”

  “Won’t hurt you. Not your heart.”

  “You said it must be selfless.”

  “What’s more unselfish than you trying to protect me? Remember where your magic comes from.” Warmth pressed to her chest, and Anjeline’s hand was against her, feeling her pulse beating rapidly. “Trust me.”

  For a moment, in the back of Rebel’s mind, a voice screamed at her that this wasn’t going to end well. But a fiery surge opened in her chest and she darted forward, kissing Anjeline. The contact jolted her with the courage she needed, as she knew it would.

  Anjeline breathed out an exhausted chuckle. “When we make it out of here, I’m going to show you a real jinni’s kiss.”

  “Promise?” Rebel’s insides enlivened.

  She nodded. “Now make a wish.”

  So Rebel did.

  The citizens of the city were all sleeping in their beds, completely unaware of the war gathering below. Soon, the entire magical world would be hunting for them. A human with a disaster of a heart, and a jinni who wished for her own liberation. But they might as well have been hunting for the wind.

  Rebel looked up at the sky. And wished for their safety.

  To fly away.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Rebel
sprang heavenward into the rush of air, her smile filling with wind.

  It happened so fast. The wish was cast, propelling her into the night sky so quickly, not even bystanders had time to grasp what had taken place. To catch a glimpse of Anjeline’s magic unfold, wrapping around her, embedding into her skin, as if it were giving her invisible wings. They left the city’s unforgiving streets behind and flew among the swirling stars. One of Rebel’s lifelong dreams had come true. A fulfillment of a childhood wish. She was flying.

  Soaring.

  A voice sounded in her ear. “Told you.” Warm fingers grasped Rebel’s waist, and Anjeline pressed against her back as she supported their weight. Straightening her arms out like an eagle’s pinions, she weaved them up and down as though she were treading on the surface of the ocean. But this wasn’t like the last time. This time she was doing the flying.

  She. Was. Flying.

  She glanced over her shoulder, her face right next to Anjeline’s. There had never been any doubt in those fiery eyes. “How do you know this is going to work?”

  “When you wished in the basement, a consequence should have surfaced. But it didn’t, because you cast it for both our sakes. I didn’t see it before.” Anjeline pressed her hand to Rebel’s chest. “Your soul’s as strong as Solomon’s was. Unable to wish for the self alone. A selfless heart.”

  Never did Rebel think it would be her. The heart her own father had been searching for. The one thing keeping them from plummeting toward soot-covered smokestacks was Rebel. Her wish. She laughed, her voice faint upon the wind. Above them, the night stretched out huge, full of celestial bodies and wild things.

  And she laughed again. Because she was one of those wild things.

  Sizzling magic washed over her as Anjeline kept her warm from the frigid temp of the skies. They were suddenly alone, hovering over the city amid the infinite night. Rebel’s hair streamed in the zephyr. Their feet dangled above the diminishing buildings, across a sea of dark rooftops and the lamplit stretch of streets. They flew on for several blocks toward their destination in a state of blessed peace, drawn upward by a protective force of wind.

  A howl split through the sky.

  “Dammit!” Rebel swayed, startled.

  “They’re coming.” Anjeline inhaled.

  Screams echoed far below.

  Sounds of guttural growls replaced the shrilled cries. Dark beast-like figures bounded down the roadway with such prodigious force that people were clambering to get indoors. Cars swerved and pedestrians fainted. Wolves in the streets. Four-legged figures, two-legged shapes, and some who were undecided, plowed through traffic, leaping over cars, snapping and flashing their eyes up at the sky. If the Moon Court had been chaos, then this was absolute madness.

  “Cockeyed mutts.” Adrenaline shot through Rebel’s every nerve ending. She could barely make out teeth shining and tongues frothing in the moonlight. The sight almost caused her to lose her balance, but she straightened up, calming her heart. She kept her sights on nearing their destination. “How many are there?”

  Anjeline peered down below. “A dozen, at least.”

  “How’d they find us so quickly?”

  “Blood. You have enough wounds on you I can smell it.”

  Rebel’s leg throbbed. Her bloody ankle.

  Anjeline gasped. “They’re coming over the roofs!”

  The fury of noises grew closer. More figures were leaping, scaling drainpipes, and climbing the sides of buildings. Some reverted from lycanthrope form, paws molding to clawed fingers, beasts rearing up like men, but their faces stayed unchanged. Fangs shined, tongues lolled to the side, and their bone armor rippled along their spines as they hurtled across roofs.

  A dark figure bounded into the air underneath them—snapping—before landing back on the roof. Another leaped, hitting the side of a taller building instead, and bellowed its frustration. But they kept coming. A tidal wave of hungry wolves vaulted over rooftops, sweeping into the air again and again like shark-infested waters, jumping one after the other, willing Rebel to fall.

  “Can you gain more height?” Anjeline asked.

  “We’ll find out.” Rebel flung her arms up, back into her climb, propelling them upward. Anjeline whispered encouraging words in her ear, seeming to fill her to the place she needed, and they mounted higher. But it wasn’t enough. The higher Rebel went, the higher the buildings became, as well, and the frigid air set her lungs on fire.

  Another lycan leaped into the air—jaws gaping.

  For an instant, Rebel glimpsed the tip of a wet muzzle illuminated in the moonlight before the head dropped out of view. That one had been inches away. She clenched her fists, and her eyes flicked to the bag. “The spheres?” she called over the rushing in her ears.

  There was movement in her satchel, and then Anjeline withdrew an Inferno globe, seething in her palm with luster. “I can guide your aim,” she said. Placing one hand on Rebel’s arm, Anjeline directed her aim as though they were releasing a missile. Then Rebel let go. It shimmered as it spun downward.

  A moment later, it hit.

  An explosion of heat rocked them forward. For a moment, the sky was lit in a crimson glow. Jets of light jutted out from the blast on a rooftop and gushing noises filled the night. Shrieks and half-human wails split the air. Glass shattered and bricks gave way, plunging lycans over the edge of a roof. As the magical light died, Rebel spied the damage. The sphere had downed about five wolves, not to mention many were now hobbling from the blast.

  Several more were scrambling over the buildings.

  “I’m going to enjoy this.” Anjeline smiled savagely, reached into the satchel, and grabbed the first sphere she touched. Taking rapid aim, she let it drop.

  The sphere bounced off the backbone armor of a plump lycanthrope and into the throng of beasts. It cracked open, gusting out a fiery breath. Wolves reared up as sheets of flame rose around their paws. Furry forms retreated from the inferno in circles, running helter-skelter back along the buildings and down the streets, tossing their bodies to the ground to snuff out the blaze.

  Halfway between howls—out through a wall of fire and over the rooftop—leaped three rapidly ascending forms. A smaller figure rode atop the back of a blood-red lycanthrope. Even from this height, Rebel saw his amber eyes. Wulfram and the twins. He guided his pack, calling out commands, his voice changing, and his body immaturing by the hour.

  “This one’s mine.” Rebel bared her teeth, her face glistening with cold sweat. She hooked her fingers around two spheres Anjeline slipped inside her waiting grasp. Still flying ahead, she glanced down along the length of her body to the rooftops below and centered on her target. Her fingers released.

  As the spheres dropped, they glinted blue light.

  A skull-rattling boom came. Like thunder after a lethal lightning strike. The Shockwave globes hit the alpha, one to his face and another to his chest. A starburst of electricity crackled across Wulfram’s body, shocking through him—and directly into the twin wolves. The force of the blast jarred Rebel’s bones, momentarily blinding them, but it did so much worse below. Wolves fell back, some twisting in retreat.

  “Never fail to impress,” Anjeline said, squeezing arms around Rebel’s waist.

  They soared past an avenue heavy with traffic, where the gap between buildings became too great for the lycans to leap. A few daring ones tried, only to fall stories below, their snouts greeting the pavement. All around came the manic panic of the city. An alarm wailed and battalions of police raced to the explosion’s aftermath.

  More rooftops flashed underneath them, then the shimmering of the Thames River came into view. Sweat dripped into Rebel’s eyes and her arms grew heavier. Her pulse slowed, zapped from the lack of adrenaline and a functioning heart. If that weren’t enough, her ears began to ring.

  A melody whispered in her ear.

  Harmonious sounds emerged, flowing through the night, swirling up to meet them. It sounded like something from one of her dreams. Som
eone was singing a familiar song. Her mother?

  When the blazing sun is gone. When there’s nothing he shines upon,

  Then you show your little light. Twinkle, twinkle, through the night…

  Anjeline went rigid, as if she’d been bitten. “Melusine,” she hissed.

  It wasn’t really Rebel’s mother singing. She knew the voice belonged to the Siren, playing tricks on her. But how did she know that song? A waft of warmth rippled through her, spreading over her backside as Anjeline pressed closer, the contact clearing her mind fog.

  Behind them, the air rushed with the flare of wings.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Rebel saw the creatures the sky had coughed up. Four of the largest vultures she’d ever seen rose in the sky, holding within their talons a horde of slippery sea folk, Melusine at the head. The mermaids hissed and screeched, filling the night in predatory sounds.

  “They’ll be on us in a shiver,” Anjeline warned.

  Barely a street’s distance separated them from the Siren. Aided by their vulture friends, the mermaids trailed behind, their fins flapping in the wind, pervading it with a salty scent. At Melusine’s command, wings beat rapidly and rushed in closer. The birds blinked with dreamy looks in their eyes, and from the Siren’s lips came the most pleasurable sound.

  Come to me…

  The voice slinked inside Rebel’s mind. The call like a lover’s caress. The earth spun beneath her and her vision blurred. Heat washed over her. “I’ve got you,” Anjeline said, cutting through the enchantment.

  Rebel shook it off. “Hold on,” she told her.

  Then she thrust forward, splitting through the sky.