Bitter Night

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “Why?” Max’s voice echoed like a gunshot, her throat tight like someone was strangling her. “Who wants us?”

  A secretive look. “I shouldn’t say.”

  “Why not? What could it hurt? How could I possibly stop you?” Max wheedled. Her body was starting to shake as her compulsion spells pounded at her.

  “The Guardians do not agree about how to get rid of the humans, or who will take ascension in the new world. You and Giselle and Horngate’somehow you are at the center of a Junction’a fertile intersection of possibilities. Whoever controls you can control the outcome of those possibilities. So much is tied to you that no one can even see beyond the next hours. But while the others fight over which one of them gets to have you, I will claim you for Sekti. The angels will destroy each other, and then I will have Giselle and Horngate, too.” He straightened, raising his jaw and looking down his nose at Max, his face twisting in a mask of greed and pride. “Sekti has given me power beyond anything you can imagine. I can crush you with a thought. Now I want to see you on your knees, bitch. I am your master now and I want to see you grovel.”

  He stepped forward and raised his hands, green witchlight whipping around them like snakes. But before he could do whatever it was he had in mind, a blond Shadowblade slid out from the smoke and silence behind him and slammed his fist against Alton’s head. The witch dropped to the pavement with a wet, guttering sound.

  In the same instant, Max sprinted for cover on the other side of the road, yanking her gun out as she ran. Alexander was right behind her. She didn’t make four steps before more of Selange’s Shadowblades broke from cover. Eleven total, each with raised weapons aimed right at Max and Alexander. They were surrounded. She stopped, turning to look for the witch. How had she found Horngate? She must have flown or used both Sunspear and Shadowblade drivers to get here first.

  “Look, Alexander,” she said derisively. “More company. Don’t they know we have better things to do than entertain their sorry asses?”

  “Brave words,” Selange said, emerging from the shadowy cleft of a pile of boulders just beyond the circle of her Shadowblades. She was dressed in khaki pants and a sleeveless linen blouse. Her crimson mouth was an angry slash and her body was rigid with fury. Or fear. Max wasn’t sure. She had to have heard everything that Alton had said.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want the hailstone, and after hearing all that, it appears you might be valuable to me as well.”

  Max felt Alexander tense. He was standing with his back to hers, his gun trained on the Shadowblades behind.

  “What would you do with the hailstone? The Hag gave it to me, remember? Or have you decided to risk using it yourself? That might be fun to watch.”

  Desperation rippled over Selange’s face, then her expression settled into a mask of twisted fury. “That’s none of your business. I’m going to teach you a lesson or two about your place before I turn you over to Hekau.”

  “Better witches than you have tried to show me the light. I’m a slow learner.” Max was playing for time, but the fact was, there was no way out of this that didn’t end really badly. Magpie’s warning echoed through her mind again. No safety there, not for anyone. Not until you return. Only you can make it safe. Horngate needed her now. She changed tack.

  “Look. You aren’t stupid. You heard what’s going on. If you wanted to suck up to the Guardians, you wouldn’t be here looking for the hailstone. You want a way out. Which means you need to work with me.”

  Selange laughed. “You’re nothing. What can you do?”

  “Well, for one, I have the hailstone. And for two, there’s a couple of seers who think I might have something up my sleeve.” Max didn’t know if Magpie counted as a seer, but it sounded good. And Giselle had a touch of her mother’s power. For the sake of Horngate, Max hoped the two of them were right. “What have you got to lose?” A lot. If Selange went into Horngate to fight Hekau’s angel’and a second angel, if Alton had not lied’she would have a hard time explaining herself to Hekau if it didn’t work. This was a point of no return. Still, a flesh mage like her had more to lose if the Guardians wiped out humanity. She would go from being a powerful witch to being a doormat.

  The speed of Selange’s reply told Max all there was to know about how deep her fear of that possibility was. “What do you have in mind?”

  “There’s another way inside Horngate. With two witches, your Shadowblades, and the hailstone, we might have the strength to do something.”

  “That’s not much of a plan,” Selange said with a sneer.

  Max wholeheartedly agreed. “Got a better one?”

  Selange’s hands curled, the red fingernails like bloody claws. Clearly she wanted nothing more than to pound Max to a bloody pulp. Alexander, too. But she was stuck at the bottom of a big black hole, and the only possible way out was Max. “I have no choice.”

  “Not if you don’t want to lose your flesh magic.” But that didn’t make sense, Max realized. She went still, her mind racing. Selange couldn’t possibly hope to stop the Guardians from destroying humanity. That meant Selange wanted something else. The hailstone? Was it powerful enough to replace the power she would lose when humanity was destroyed? Or was she planning something else? She’d heard every word Alton had said about Max, Giselle, and Horngate being at the Junction of possibilities. What if she’d come for the hailstone but now had her eyes set on capturing that Junction and using them to bargain with Hekau? With both, she might be able to save her ass.

  The lead that settled into the pit of Max’s stomach told her she was right. But that was something to worry about later, after she’d figured out how to save Horngate.

  “Where is this other entrance?” Selange demanded.

  “Not far. But we’re going to have to climb.” Max didn’t wait for a reply or for Selange to call off her dogs. She holstered her .45 and opened the back door of the truck. Alexander stayed beside her, his back to the truck, his gun still raised as he kept an eye on his former comrades.

  “Do you know what you are doing?” he asked.

  “Nope. But we have to get inside. It’s this or try walking through that barrier. The odds are slightly better this way.”

  “You cannot trust Selange.”

  “Aren’t you quick with the obvious, Slick? I know I can’t trust her. But for now, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

  “And what if she is not the enemy of your enemy?”

  Max had no answer for that.

  BEFORE THEY STARTED OUT, THEY TIED ALTON UP, AND Selange wrapped a witch chain around him. It was the witch version of Kryptonite. That she had it handy in her van was telling, and Max promised herself again to keep a close eye on Selange inside Horngate.

  The entry was a mile-and-a-half hike northeast over the unforgiving terrain of the Lolo National Forest. The mountains heaped together like the folds of a rucked blanket. The timber was dense, and the hog-backs were made more treacherous by deadfall and rusty stretches where pine-beetle infestations had destroyed the trees.

  Well used to the rough terrain, Max easily outpaced her companions, with the exception of Alexander, who clung determinedly to her trail. More than once he saved himself with sheer strength alone as he stumbled and slipped over the knife-sharp ridges and sheer valley walls. Max was repeatedly forced to wait for Selange and the rest of her Shadowblades. The witch was soon limping and breathless. Sweat dripped down her forehead and stained the neckline of her blouse. Her hands and arms were scraped, and there were bruises on her arms.

  They were a ridge away from Horngate’s back door, and Max’s compulsion spells were sawing her to pieces. Her heart was beating so hard she thought it was going to tear out of her chest. She couldn’t bear to stop moving. As a panting Selange caught up again, Max turned and bounded up the slope. Footsteps followed. She glanced over her shoulder. Alexander was ten feet behind her. The scruffy, long-haired blond in faded jeans and battered cowboy boots who’d clobbered Alton trailed
after. She remembered him. He had been one of the ones in Julian who had captured her.

  Fifteen minutes later, she and her two shadows crested Sweetwater Ridge. The rimrock overlooked a verdant, glacier-carved cleft. A creek meandered through the meadow bottom, and aspens and birches marched beside it like silvery sentinels. On the opposite side of the valley, wild flames leaped from crown to crown of the massed evergreens. It caught and leaped again in the still air. Angelfire didn’t need wind.

  Smoke hung thick and the stench of the Uncanny and Divine was smothering. West of them, the magic gray-and-red-mottled barrier humped up between the mountains. Max crouched, leaning over the edge of her perch to look down.

  The path into the pocket valley was nothing more than a series of narrow ledges, jutting footholds, and a tracery of cracks for the fingers. The inaccessibility made it the perfect place to hide Horngate’s back door. The fire had not yet reached the entryway. When it did, it would be impossible to get through for hours at least, if not longer.

  She stood and walked down the stone shelf. Halfway down, she turned and looked at Alexander. “Trust me?”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  She smiled wickedly at him, then gave a little hop sideways over the edge of the cliff.

  18

  MAX DROPPED ABOUT TWENTY-FIVE FEET, LANDing on a jut that couldn’t be seen from above. “Max!” Alexander’s voice echoed down the valley. He was furious.

  “Your turn,” she called up. “The ledge isn’t all that wide, so don’t jump out too far or you’ll splat into the valley floor. Stand where I did so you don’t miss.”

  She moved to the far end of the shelf, and seconds later Alexander landed in a crouch near the edge. He thrust to his feet, storming across to her. He caught her arm, jerking close.

  “What the hell was that?”

  Max smiled, unabashed. “Girl’s gotta have fun.” She looked over his shoulder at his companion who’d just made the leap. “That’s Thor?”

  Alexander nodded, stepping back. She nodded at the other man, who looked surprised that she knew his name.

  “It gets tricky from here. Follow carefully.”

  She started down. At one point a twenty-five-foot gap required another lunging jump. The landing shelf was the size of a postage stamp, fitting only one person at a time. Max talked Alexander and Thor through each step of the difficult descent to the bottom. Finally she reached the top of the moraine that skirted the bottom of the valley. She bounded down it at an angle, pebbles tumbling after her in a small avalanche. Moments later, Alexander and Thor stood breathlessly beside her, both looking tattered and bloody.

  Max turned and jogged to the creek and jumped across it. She kept going, stopping beside a tumble of granite boulders ground smooth by time and weather. They lumped up forty feet or more.

  “What now?” Alexander asked after a few moments.

  “This is the part you’re really going to hate,” Max said. “From here I have to go alone.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  Thor made a snickering sound and Alexander gave him a blistering look that shut him up fast. Alexander looked back at Max. She didn’t wait for him to argue. When she spoke, her tone was hard and final.

  “The passage was designed so that only I can get through it. You would be killed the moment you set foot inside. When I get to the other side, I can shut down the defenses. So you need to sit tight and wait.” She looked at Thor again. “I’m not your Prime, but my advice would be to head back up the cliff and show your friends the way down so they don’t break their necks. Hopefully I’ll have this open before the fire cooks all of you.”

  Thor nodded and gave her a casual salute. “Safe journey.” He turned and loped away.

  Max began pulling off her weapons and setting them aside. When she was through, she faced Alexander again. His expression was glacial. She lifted her chin, glaring back at him. Indecision made her hesitate. Did she tell him? She gave an exasperated sigh.

  “Under the heading of full disclosure, you should probably know that I’ve never successfully made it through the passage. The last time I tried, I nearly didn’t get out alive.”

  He gaped. “What?”

  “Giselle didn’t want to make it too easy’a back door is a hole in Horngate’s defenses, after all. Theoretically I can get through. Supposedly it was designed just for me.”

  He stomped over, standing close and staring down at her, his jaw flexing. “Theoretically?” He pushed the word through gritted teeth.

  Max licked her lips, more nervous than she wanted to admit. But the locking spell had worked better for her in the last few days than it ever had before. And just at the moment, more than anything else, she wanted to get inside Horngate. She hoped it was enough. “I didn’t realize it then, but I think she expected the Guardians to come for her sooner or later, and I don’t think even they can get through this gauntlet. She didn’t create the spells for this; she called in a favor from someone.” What creature had magic great enough to stop the Guardians? She hesitated. “The trouble is, it doesn’t really want to let anyone in, even me.”

  He snatched her arms as if he wanted to either shake her or pick her up and throw her to knock some sense into her. “What makes you think you can get through this time?”

  “Need,” she said simply, then pulled herself away. “We don’t have any other choice. I’d better get on it.”

  She didn’t wait for him to say anything else. She turned and walked headfirst into the stand of boulders. With a flickering flash, she was inside a cave. Silence surrounded her like a shroud. Extending before her was a long, straight passage. Milky-blue magic filled it like thick cobwebs. She felt its pulse in her bones. The smell of the Divine was so thick it was hard to breathe.

  She reached into her pocket, fingers rubbing over the soft leather of her medicine pouch and the cold lump of the hailstone inside. The last time she’d attempted to get through here, she’d only made it about two hundred feet before crawling back. Her body had been wasted, almost skeletal. Her hand clenched. This time she couldn’t afford to turn back.

  Slowly she took the pouch out of her pocket and hooked the hailstone out onto her palm. If she didn’t make it, she could still help Horngate. All she had to do was swallow it. Know what you want. You will have it. She snorted softly. If only it were that easy. But the question was, what to want?

  But she’d been thinking about it the entire drive back to Montana. Max had one idea and no time to think of anything better. No time to waste either. Quickly she popped the hailstone in her mouth. Its cold burned her tongue. She concentrated and swallowed, holding on to her wish with all her might.

  She felt the cold of the hailstone slide down her throat to her stomach. It sat a moment like a glacial seed. The she felt it open. It uncurled like the petals of a frigid rose. The cold shifted suddenly to heat. It flared and rushed out of her on a nuclear wave-front. Max gasped and dropped to her knees, her heart thundering. Then the heat was gone. She drew a breath, her arms and legs shaking. She pushed slowly to her feet and leaned against the wall. She gave herself only a moment’s rest.

  Time to walk the gauntlet.

  She gathered herself, thinking of Horngate and her need to be inside where she could help. “They need me’let me pass,” she said aloud, and started into the milky-blue cobwebs.

  At first it was like walking through a sticky mist. The filaments of magic clung to her, tearing away from the walls and wrapping her in a layered cocoon. Behind her, more strands grew from the walls.

  She made it twenty feet before it became harder. Now it was like leaning into a stiff wind. The web grew more dense, the strands thicker. Max’s mouth twisted grimly. This was only the beginning.

  Another sixty feet and she was chopping at the magic with her hands. The web was made of thick cords now, and they coiled and knotted around Max like snakes. They sank through her clothing, through her skin and her flesh.
She could feel them blindly sucking on her soul’her essence. She was being eaten alive, just like before.

  “Let me through!” she yelled, but no one and nothing answered.

  Every passing moment weakened her. She thrust forward desperately. She was not turning back this time; it was all or nothing.

  At 120 feet, she could hardly raise her arms. Her legs were leaden. She had no sense of time. She forced herself to keep scuffing along. She could feel her flesh shrinking over her bones, her skin loosening like stretched-out rags.