by Pat Esden
Love you always. You are the best father any girl could wish for.
Annie
CHAPTER 22
Can you not feel the rumbling of our blood in your veins, my son?
—Malphic, Warlord of Blackspire
About an hour before sunset, I divided the salt I’d swiped into a couple of baggies and stashed them and a mini flashlight in the robe’s hidden pockets. The robe might have been as ugly as hell, but its pockets were awesome.
A nervous feeling twitched inside me as I draped the robe over my chair. I took off my clothes and jewelry and put on the linen shift. I checked the time and my e-mail. I was about to check the time again when Lotli arrived with her outfit stashed inside her backpack.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Fine, I guess. Mostly, I just want to get going.”
“Same here.”
She set her pack on the bed and I hugged myself, watching as she laid out her costume in layers: the glittery bra top and skirt, gold earrings and necklaces, her tiny medicine bag, and lastly her shimmery layers of muted orange, leaf-green, and soft blue veils.
Her gaze swooped toward me. “You’re not wearing the necklace we made you?”
“I wasn’t sure it went with pretending to be a eunuch.” On the other hand, Chase had picked out a fancy dagger for me. “Maybe it’s okay, though. Genies do love their jewelry.”
“We wanted to thank you with a friendship gift, but we also had a selfish reason for creating it. We were hoping it would attract protection, for all our sakes.” She reached down, stroking the medicine bag. “We wouldn’t dream of going without our talisman.”
“In that case, I’d be crazy not to, right?” In a way, personalizing my outfit would help to make me feel more like I was playing a leading role and less like a disposable background character. I retrieved the necklace from my dresser and put it on.
A quiet knock-knock came from the hallway door.
“Yeah?” I said.
“It’s Chase.” The door opened and he slipped into the room, already dressed in his Death Warrior outfit, except for the headscarf part and that was looped around his neck.
I did a double take. “You were running around the house dressed like that?”
He scoffed. “Of course not. I got dressed in the elevator on my way up here from the basement. While you two were relaxing, I was getting this—” He reached into the folds of his sash and pulled out the lamp, plus my signet ring.
“Great,” I said, taking them from him.
He rocked back on his heels and studied me. “You look nervous. If you’ve changed your mind, you don’t have to do this. No one will think any less of you.” His gaze went to Lotli. “You don’t have to either. I don’t care what Zea or Kate or anyone else says.”
She dipped her head. “We could not live with ourselves if we did not help and there is a chance Zea might forbid us from staying until another full moon.”
Forbid her? A sour taste crept up my throat. “I never thought of that,” I said.
I set the lamp and my ring on my dresser, then Chase and I headed into the bathroom to smudge our faces. While I tied my hair back into a loose ponytail, he used a lighter to scorch a cork from a wine bottle, charring it deep black.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll do your face first, then you can do mine.”
I tipped my chin up and he bent close to me, holding the cork between his thumb and forefinger as he intently studied my face. Heat rushed up my neck and across my cheeks. I closed my eyes, shielding myself against his gaze. But his scent, enticing and so familiar, still assaulted me: the white-hot tang of a welder’s torch, the lingering perfume of freshly mowed grass. He pulled the cork along my cheekbones, and his breath brushed against my skin. Oh God. I shifted my weight, trying to put an end to the thrum buzzing in my belly and between my legs. His grip on my chin tightened, fingers demanding but as smooth as satin sheets. The cork staggered down my nose and chin, followed by the press of his moist thumb. Finally, he released me and I let out my breath.
“Not bad. Almost fierce,” he said, stepping back.
I glanced in the mirror. Wide swaths of black wept down from my eyes and streaked my nose and chin. “Wow. I don’t even want to meet myself in a dark alley.” I laughed.
His expression remained serious. “Your fingernails need to go too.”
Cringing, I clipped them off. Not that they were that long to start with, but it had taken work to keep them nice.
When I finished, he reached to his waist. “I made something for you.”
He pulled out a pair of fingerless mitts and handed them to me. They were soft and finely made, yet frayed to appear as if worn for years.
“They’re wonderful,” I said, crushing them against my chest.
“I guess. Mostly, we don’t need anyone noticing how pretty your hands are.” His voice was nonchalant, but a smile played on his lips and electricity crackled between us.
I went up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss, but jammed on my brakes and settled back down. It wasn’t a thank-you peck I longed to give him. It was a deep kiss and a lingering embrace, the hot and lusty kind that would totally disrespect his need to stay in control.
My heart sank as I touched his arm and gave him a tepid smile. “Thanks.”
Without meeting my eyes, he dropped down on the closed toilet lid, even farther out of kissable range. “We should get my face done.”
I flicked on the lighter and scorched the cork, giving it a fresh coat of smudge. Once it cooled, Chase lifted his face to me and closed his eyes. His beard stubble sanded my palm as I cupped his chin. It wasn’t easy, but I pushed past the desire coiling inside me and focused every ounce of my being on the structure of his face, its natural planes and hollows. I thought back to a deviant art image of a warrior I’d seen the other day on the Internet and used it for inspiration as I smudged crescents under his eyes, and shadows beneath his cheekbones and jawline.
In a few minutes, I was done. Between the smudging and his clothes, the transformation was startling. He looked brooding and imposing, breathtaking in a ferocious Death Warrior sort of way.
“What do you think?” I asked Lotli, as Chase and I went back out into the bedroom.
“Very nice,” she said, her voice going husky.
My jaw clenched, but the tension melted away. Who could blame her for reacting like that? Chase truly looked mouthwateringly gorgeous.
He cleared his throat. “There are a couple of last-minute things we need to discuss. . . .”
While he reminded us not to drink the super-potent wine or potentially intoxicating food, I put on my robe. It only took me a minute to get the strap around my waist and slide the dagger into position. Chase barely noticed what I was doing, so different from yesterday in the armory.
“Also you need to know about the doorways,” he said.
“Since genies can’t open things that are locked, there are no doors. Instead they use curtains and carpets. Don’t worry about going through a curtain. Granted, there are places where they have protection spells on them or curses, but not where we’re going. However, under no circumstance use a magic carpet. Never.”
Lotli’s eyes grew round. “Flying carpets? Zea would be very interested in that.”
“No.” Chase shook his head. “They don’t fly. That’s a myth, like the idea that genies are obliged to grant wishes. These carpets hang on walls like tapestries. They are throughout the fortress, but concentrated in the spires. They are gateways. Step through any one of them and you’ll find yourself in a different room in the fortress—or in a different fortress altogether, or in the middle of the Red Desert face to face with one of the berserk. Get what I mean?”
“Curtains okay. Carpets bad,” I said.
He cast a scowl in my direction. “This is important. On festival nights, the top floor of the spire where we’ll come out will be deserted. But the lower floors will be as busy as a train station with visitors using th
e carpets to come and go. It’ll be the perfect cover for us. But dangerous as well.”
“I understand,” I said, taking my tone down a notch. I snagged my phone and glanced at the time. “We’ve got ten minutes. I’m going to check with everyone.”
I shot off a text to Selena and Tibbs.
All set?
Fine here, Tibbs replied. He was in charge of watching Laura and Kate.
A second later, Selena texted.
Not sure where Professor is. Mom and Zach r watching TV. Be careful. Love u all. Hugs and more hugs.
I typed: Hugs back at u. See you at sunrise.
“We’re all set,” I said.
Chase picked up the lamp. “Remember, once you two put the oil on and sunset comes, you’ll turn into shadows here. When we reach the other side of the veil, you’ll instantly be solid again. We can leave their realm anytime we want as long as Lotli can force the veil open with her flute. Without that magic, we’ll have to wait until sunrise when the oil wears off and the two of you turn ethereal. Understand?”
“We understand,” Lotli said.
You two? Chase’s words nipped at the back of my mind and I glanced at him. “You’re not going to use the oil?”
He rubbed his branded collarbone, a sign that my question was something he’d rather have avoided. He blew out a long breath. “I can’t use it. It’s impossible to predict what it would do to me, since it affects genies and humans in opposite ways. It doesn’t matter anyway. No matter what side I’m on, I’ll be solid.”
“But what if something happens to our flute?” Lotli asked, her voice edging toward panic. “If you are solid, you will not be able to get through even an unwarded weak point in the veil, are we not correct?”
I lowered my voice, trying to sound relaxed. “That’s not exactly true. Once we turn ethereal—even without the flute—either one of us can help him get through. We just need to wrap our arms around him like a cloak. That’s how Kate helped him get through last time.” I narrowed my eyes, pinpointing Chase. “But you should have told us about this before now.”
He raised his arms in surrender. “Everyone had enough to worry about. I thought—I’m sorry.”
As much as I didn’t like it, I knew where he was coming from. He was Chase. Of course he’d thought it was better to shield us from yet another worry for as long as possible. “It’s all right, I guess. I don’t blame you,” I said.
But there still was another layer to that fear, something that hung silent in the air between the three of us. Kate might have cloaked Chase and got him safely through the veil, but my mother had been left behind because Malphic had cast a warding spell that sealed the veil before she could pass. Without Lotli and her flute, if new wards were created, we would not be able to break them.
I gritted my teeth, forcing that possibility from my mind. I couldn’t afford to think about that now. None of us could. I pulled my shoulders back and thrust out my hand, gesturing for Chase to hand me the lamp. “We need to get on with this.”
Lotli lowered her head. “We are ready.”
I dribbled the oil over her. It wasn’t like last month, when I’d broken the lamp in hopes that its oil would free Dad from being genie-possessed. This time, it oozed slowly, spreading out from where I poured it, shimmering down her body and clothes. She raised her arms and the oil swept upward to coat each fingertip. There was no smell or blackness, or oily excesses puddling on the floor. No sound either.
“It feels like worms slithering all over us,” she said.
As I watched the oil work its way over the rest of her, my whole body began to tremble from fear. So instead of waiting for her to douse me, I lifted the lamp, closed my eyes, and got it over with.
Shivers shot across my skin as the oil coated my hair and rushed down my neck, not cold or warm, just a writhing sensation making every nerve ending stand on edge. When every part of me was sheathed, the writhing faded and the only indication that I’d applied anything was a slight resistance, like being sealed in a thin layer of varnish. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if I wasn’t paying close attention.
I gave a nervous laugh. “One thing’s for sure, we’ll know when it’s officially sunset.”
Chase raised an eyebrow. “Like now?”
“What do you mean—?” I stopped talking as a strange vibrating feeling whisked over my entire body, followed by tingles. I glanced at Lotli. She was staring at me, her eyes wide with horror and fascination, and her lips parted as she undoubtedly watched my solid body shimmer and turn ethereal, like hers was. Holy shit. She was—I was as transparent as mist, nothing more than a ghostly shadow.
CHAPTER 23
Twilight returns and once more I ask myself,
“How dark is the price of liberty?”
—Susan Woodford Freemont
When we got to the gallery, the faces of the angel statues were darkened by early evening shadows. Only Hecate remained touched with faded brightness.
Chase led the way to the alcove, then Lotli took out her flute and began to play, notes rising and falling, whistling softly like a shepherdess tending her flock. Her music became more insistent, and I drew a deep breath, praying that nothing or no one would interrupt us now that we were so close.
Lotli swayed, her shadowy shape moving in time with her music. The air vibrated with the eerie sound, stronger and higher now, crawling on my skin.
BANG! The purple eggs at Hecate’s feet exploded, sulfur scent flooding the air.
BANG! POP! More eggs, herbs, salt, and crystals blasted outward. The air went cold. I pressed in close to Chase, shielding my hooded face against his back as fragments pelted down all around us. The flute’s music whistled higher, out of my ability to hear. Pressure sang in my ears, and I peeked up in time to see the air unzip, like a tent flap ripped open with electricity snapping all around it. Beyond its opening, a lime-green and violet haze fluxed.
Swallowing back my fear, I willed adrenaline into my veins and steadied my voice. “Ready?”
“Let’s go,” Chase said.
I glanced at Lotli’s faint shape, her flute still raised, the music louder than ever.
She nodded to say it was time. And we stepped forward, Chase first with me close behind, then Lotli. All around us electricity sizzled and popped, mixing with the flute’s piercing wail. The air turned sultry and pushed against us like a relentless tide. Still, Chase pressed forward, his solid body a shield in front of my ethereal form. Just when I thought we might not ever get through, my ears popped, and the resistance vanished.
I stumbled forward, my muscles once again taking on solid weight.
The air was steamy hot, way more stifling than in the gallery. And the light . . . I blinked and blinked again, struggling to adjust my eyes to the multicolored haze shifting and radiating all around us. Definitely strange.
An itch built inside my nose. I rubbed away the urge to sneeze, then cautiously sniffed to see what had caused it. A pungent incense smell permeated the air. Smoky musk, leather, cinnamon, and a white-hot scent like Chase’s. It clung to my nostrils and coated my tongue with an intoxicating cumin-like flavor.
Chase snagged my upper arm, pulling me aside as Lotli staggered out from a fading line of sparks. He let go of me and motioned for us to stay put. In stealth mode, he crept forward, slipping between the sheer curtains that hung across the entryway of the niche we’d come out into.
Lotli and I waited. One minute. Two. A mix of fear and curiosity stirred inside me. As we’d expected, it didn’t sound like Chase had run into guards or visitors in the room beyond the curtains. That made sense. After all, it had been five years since the family last used this weak point in the veil to sneak into the djinn realm. Still, the silence and ease of our entry concerned me almost more than if we’d been attacked by a legion of genies.
Careful not to make any noise, I slunk to the curtains and looked out.
“Whoa,” I said, under my breath. The place was freaky, an Arabian Nights
love child fathered by Bram Stoker.
I nudged my hood back just far enough that I could see better and I leaned out a little farther. The room was indeed at the top of a spire like Chase had told us, its tapered ceiling rising high and narrow. Clusters of black stalactites fingered down, touching the floor in some places. They glittered and dimmed under the unsettling ripples of light, and the steadier blaze of torches that were stationed along the room’s walls.
Room wasn’t really the right word for the place. It was more of a glimmering crescent-shaped landing at the top of a dangerously steep stone staircase.
But neither the staircase nor the ceiling took me back as much as the creepy murals that decorated its walls. Jewel-toned and accented in gold, the paintings depicted tattooed hunters wielding bows, knives, and bloody scimitars, sleek ponytails pulled high and tight and auras glowing as they pursued all manner of wounded animals and cowering people. In one place, stallions with flaming manes mated with comets. Nearer to the staircase, blood-fanged leopards with giant alien-like eyes gnawed on rabbit corpses, hyenas devoured sheep, and whirlwinds wrestled with pitch-black herons. The only section of wall that wasn’t painted was where a Persian-style carpet with a dark blue center hung.
Lotli tiptoed up close to me. “Where is Chase?”
I tilted my head toward where he stood, surveying what lay beyond an open archway, bathed even more strongly in the fluxing light than we were. He swiveled and waved for us to join him.
Without a word to Lotli, I sprinted to him, fear pounding in my chest. I’d intended to ask him what was causing the light, but the intense look in his eyes and the forbidding foreignness of his scarf-wrapped face made me decide to hold off.
I tucked my shaking hands in my pockets and started to follow him under the archway. But I paused and turned to see how Lotli was doing—
She wasn’t in back of me.
“Wait a minute,” I said, snatching Chase’s wrist. I scoured the inside of the spire to see where she’d gotten off to.
