I gestured at him and called, “Dei’ahmael!” He looked surprised when the sword fell from his hand—enough that he didn’t react too fast, and I darted in to grab the weapon. “Seabh’fos,” I said quickly.
He froze in place.
Still holding the sword, I turned to find the other two guards immobilized and everyone more or less okay. “All right,” I said. “Any chance we could just open a portal right now, and get the hell out of here?”
Reun opened his mouth to reply, and a wave of sound crested the hill—pounding feet and clanking metal. The sound was followed by more of the Seelie Guard.
Dozens more.
I guessed running away was out.
So this was the Seelie dungeon.
The battle on the hill hadn’t lasted long, and everything that happened was still pretty fragmented in my aching head. There was a lot of magic flying around. Reun had disarmed a bunch of guards and attacked a bunch more wielding a sword in each hand. I’d held onto the one sword for a while, but I couldn’t do jack shit with it. So I’d cast shields and knock-back and sleep spells until my spark wore out.
And the Duchenes had gone after the Guard with a vengeance, paired off and tearing them up one by one with a combination of magic, borrowed weapons, and brute willpower. Zoba hardly needed the spells, though. He was strong as a herd of stampeding bulls, and twice as pissed. They were still fighting when both Reun and I went down—him with a sword through the chest, and me out of juice and bleeding from a dozen deep gashes. The Fae couldn’t counter their magic…and I was pretty sure the element of surprise helped. They thought they were fighting humans.
They hadn’t counted on furious swamp demons wielding voodoo and desperation.
But still, here we all were. I’d grayed out from blood loss while the Seelie Guard dragged us off, and came around slumped against a wall in what was definitely a dungeon. Stone walls, metal bars, shackles hanging from chains. At least no one was clapped into them. Zoba and Denei were in one large cell with me, and another cell across from us held Reun and the other four. All of us were in various stages of battered and bloody.
“Fuck,” I slurred, trying to sit up straight. Everything hurt. Even the roots of my hair, for some reason. “That was a lot of guards.”
It dawned on me slowly that no one was talking, or even moving. For a minute I thought one of the guards had thrown a spell on them while I was out, until Denei shifted a little and closed her eyes. “We ain’t gonna make it,” she said, so low that I could barely make out the words.
I wasn’t going to accept that—and not just because it meant I’d die of a broken promise. “We’ll find a way,” I said, forcing myself to my feet. Christ, it hurt to move. But I was surprised to sense that my spark had recharged, at least partway. “Maybe we can unlock the doors, or just cross over from here. I mean, you can open the Veil anywhere, right?”
Reun shuddered hard from his slumped position on the floor. “This place was made to imprison Fae,” he said. “The bars are cold iron. The entire dungeon is warded, and there are guards, should the wards fail. There is no way to escape.”
“Don’t matter anyway.” Denei’s voice still didn’t rise above a whisper. “It’s been near three hours since we left the train.”
“Jesus. How long was I out?” No wonder I had some of my spark back. But I didn’t expect an answer to the question, and it didn’t really matter. What mattered was how much time we had left.
Which was maybe half an hour. Probably less.
“Fine. Then we’ll get someone to let us out,” I said. “We’ll talk to the King.”
“The King.” There was something terrible and broken in Reun’s voice. “You mean the King who ordered me brought here in the first place. Fantastic plan, Gideon.”
“I’m sure he’s a reasonable guy.”
“Then you know nothing of Seelie royalty.”
I didn’t have time to debate my nonexistent knowledge of Fae politics. Something had to happen, right now.
So I moved as far to the end of the cell as I could without touching the cold iron, and started shouting.
“Hey! Guards! Whoever’s supposed to be in charge down here.” I could see a curved stone staircase beyond the bars, at the end of an open area with a lot of unpleasant-looking apparatus. “We need to talk to the King. Now!”
“Stop that,” Denei hissed. “You gon’ get us all killed.”
“And that’s not going to happen if we don’t get out of here?” I shot back, and then resumed yelling. “Guards! I demand an audience with the King!”
It wasn’t long before I heard faint footsteps, and someone came down the stairs. A dark-haired male, dressed in soft brown suede-like pants and a matching vest with no shirt beneath it. He strode across the open space and stopped around five feet from the bars, glaring at me with cold blue eyes.
Familiar blue eyes.
I blinked until my own eyes watered, and finally blurted, “Cobalt?”
“Unseelie,” he snarled. “How do you know my brother?”
CHAPTER 17
It took a minute to process that. I finally realized that he only looked a hell of a lot like Cobalt, without the piercings and throat tats. He did have tattoos, but they were raised and colored with blacks and browns. It looked like deliberate scarring.
“So…I guess you must be Braelan,” I said.
In the other cell, Reun gasped and struggled to his feet. He held a hand clamped to his chest, but blood still drizzled between his fingers from the gaping wound. Must’ve drained his spark during the fight, too. “Prince Braelan,” he said. “What—”
“It is King Braelan.” He spoke without looking away from me. “And you’ve not answered me, Unseelie. My brother. How do you know him?”
Damn. Well, that explained why Reun had been so convinced the King would give him a pass. He’d been counting on the wrong king. “Er. Cobalt did some tattoos for me,” I said. “A long time ago.”
Braelan sneered. “And you believe this distant acquaintance excuses your brutal attack on my Guard?”
“Whoa. First of all, we didn’t brutally attack anyone,” I said. “They came at us. And second, it might’ve been a distant acquaintance once, but Cobalt’s a friend now. And Uriskel saved my life not too long ago.”
“Uriskel…?” His eyes widened, and he took a step back. “You are Gideon Black. The DeathSpeaker.”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“My brothers have told me of you,” he said.
“Oh. Good.” Considering Uriskel had spent quite a bit of our little romp through Arcadia thinking I was an incompetent idiot, I wasn’t sure that would help our case. But I had to try anyway—without wasting a lot of time. So I got straight to the point. “How about letting us go?”
After a brief pause, Braelan laughed. “Ciaràn…Cobalt, as you know him, mentioned you were somewhat blunt. I must say, I do enjoy your directness.” His amusement faded fast as he added, “I am sorry, but I cannot release Lord Reun, or his followers. There are several charges he must answer for.”
“Followers?” Denei stood abruptly behind me. “Listen, you—”
I motioned hard at her. To my shock, she actually closed her mouth. “Look, I don’t know what Reun did before, but he’s not the same guy anymore,” I said to Braelan. “And I’d love to chat and explain everything, but we’re on a deadline. With an emphasis on dead, if we don’t get back to the human realm really fast.”
Braelan raised an eyebrow. “That does sound unfortunate,” he said slowly. “Still, I cannot allow him to leave the realm. And provoked or not, the rest of you have decimated my Guard.”
“Highness.” Reun staggered closer to the bars. “I am prepared to pay the price for anything I’ve done in the past,” he said. “Keep me here as long as you like. I’ll not protest my fate. But I beg you…please, release my friends. They’ve done nothing save defend themselves, and they face imminent death should they remain here.”
Denei cr
ied out and threw herself at the cell door, trying to shove through the bars. “Reun, no!” she said. “You cain’t leave me. You promised…”
The desperate emphasis she put on that word made my throat clench. “Hold on. Exactly what level of promise are you talking about?” I said.
She didn’t answer, but the misery in her eyes told me anyway. “I told him not to,” she whispered. “But he wouldn’t listen. Said he wanted to prove he wouldn’t do nothin’ foolish like last time. Only he’s doin’ it right now.”
Jesus Christ. Reun had just volunteered to die in exchange for letting us go.
Braelan caught on fast. “Lord Reun. Have you sworn a gealdht to stay with this woman?” he said.
“I have, Highness.” He shivered and coughed weakly. “Please let them go,” he said. “I will gladly die in her place.”
“Don’t you dare,” Denei said in a trembling voice. “I’ll kill you if you go’n die on me.”
Damn it, I wasn’t leaving this place without my friends. All of them. “Listen…uh, your majesty,” I said. “I swear to whoever you’re supposed to swear to around here, Reun is not a bad guy. When I was here with Uriskel, he saved my brother’s life. And the reason he came here in the first place was to sacrifice himself for my father. The Unseelie Queen took his bargain, even though she didn’t hold up her end, and—” I broke off hard. “Well, let’s just say she didn’t treat him like a noble guest.”
Braelan stared at Reun. “You gave yourself over to Moirehna?”
“Aye, Highness.” One corner of his mouth twitched. “An experience I’d not care to discuss, if it’s all the same to you.”
“I can imagine you’d not.” The King walked forward, stopped between the cells, and took something from his pocket. A silver key. “Well, Gideon Black,” he said. “My brothers trust you, and so shall I. Lord Reun, by the power of the Seelie Court, you are hereby granted pardon.” He unlocked one door, and then the other. “And you are all free to go.”
Denei pushed out first, almost knocking Braelan over with the cell door as she rushed over to Reun. “Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “Oh, Jesus, thank you.”
Braelan gave a slight frown. “My name is not Jesus,” he said. “It is Braelan.”
“Yeah, just…never mind that.” I smirked and helped Zoba off the floor, then made my way out of the cell. “So, your majesty. How about one more little favor?”
His brow went up. “Releasing you is not sufficient favor?”
“Here’s the thing,” I said. “I’m running low on magic, and I’m pretty sure Reun is too. And in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a big, bloody hole through him. The rest of us aren’t doing much better.”
“You’d like me to heal you,” he said.
“Something like that.”
“Very well.” He smiled and stepped back slightly to make room for everyone else filing out of the cells. “You are quite stubborn and persistent, aren’t you?” he said. “You’ve much in common with Uriskel.”
I grinned. “Not really. I usually just ask politely for stuff, at least the first time,” I said. “Your brother is bad-ass scary. He doesn’t have to be stubborn—he gets what he wants because everybody’s too afraid to piss him off.”
“You truly do know him,” Braelan said with a laugh. “And now I’m certain I’ve made the right decision. Let us prepare you for your journey.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I only hoped my persistence had paid off in time.
CHAPTER 18
According to Senobia’s nearly-dead phone, we arrived in the human realm at 2:13 in the morning on June 5, 1994. I was pretty sure that was wrong—Arcadia must’ve screwed with the electronics or something. Still, not knowing what time it really was didn’t help to calm anyone’s frayed nerves. We might have half an hour to get there, or five minutes.
Or some of us might drop dead any second.
We’d stepped out through the portal into an empty, cracked-asphalt parking lot overgrown with grass, behind a pile of faded debris that used to be a building. There was a smashed car wedged beneath the wreckage, and a rusted pickup lodged in the branches of a massive magnolia tree at the far end of the lot.
The warding in the dungeon prevented crossing over from there, so we’d gone outside the palace to leave. Which meant Reun and I had gotten a dose of Arcadian moon. It wasn’t enough to recharge all the way, but at least we weren’t completely helpless.
He’d tried to tell me how to part the Veil while he was doing it. Something about knowing where you needed to go, making the air thin, and channeling the fire through your hand. I had no idea what he meant, but I’d nodded along anyway. Now wasn’t the time to demand clarification.
“All right. Hold up.” Denei looked stunned and shaken, like somebody had just whacked her in the face with a cast-iron skillet. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly. By the time she exhaled, she was in control of herself again. “What you think, brother?”
Zoba tilted his head back and sniffed the air. Then he grunted.
“Yeah, me too. We close enough.” She looked around at everyone. “Y’all keep up, hear? Especially you, handsome,” she said. “This might get rough.”
“Aww, here we go,” Rex intoned.
“Er,” I said. “Here we go where?”
Denei and Zoba were already moving, with Reun close behind. Rex just grinned and followed them with Senobia. I figured I’d hang back, bring up the rear, but Isalie came up and nodded ahead at the rest. “Best you stay in the mix, cher,” she said. “Me and Bastien’ll go behind. You fall back, ain’t nobody be able to catch you up.”
“Okay.” With a slight frown, I started forward. “What are we doing?”
“We walkin’ the Path,” Bastien said.
“And that is?”
“A real long story.”
I guessed it was one he didn’t want to tell right now, and that was fine with me. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the Path was, or why it might get rough.
Past the wrecked building was a narrow street, just as riddled with cracks as the parking lot, and the sidewalk wasn’t in any better shape. The road was lined with close-set houses—worn and tired, but clean. Pleasant, mid-sixties weather had a few people sitting out on porches. Trees grew from spacers in the sidewalk at regular intervals. Most were elm, magnolia and crape myrtle, but there was the odd palm tree here or there.
I’d never associated palm trees with New Orleans before.
There wasn’t much conversation as we walked. I kept my mind busy with the scenery and occasionally watched Zoba, who walked in tandem with Denei at the front of the line. He still seemed okay. But I was worried he might weaken again, now that we were so close to Legba.
At the end of the narrow street, Denei and Zoba turned left. And for a second, I could’ve sworn they shimmered like a desert mirage. I shrugged it off.
Until I made the same turn, and felt my stomach twist like I’d stepped off a cliff. Everything around me blurred. Before panic could set in, my vision resolved and everything was normal again.
Except for the side street we’d just turned off, which wasn’t there anymore. An auto parts store stood where the curb had been.
My steps faltered. “What the hell?” I gasped. “How…”
A hand at the small of my back made me flinch. “Jes’ keep walkin’,” Isalie murmured. “It’s the Path.”
“Yeah. Great.” I tried to shake off some of the disorientation as I plodded after Rex and Senobia. Somebody was really going to have to explain all this to me later.
This was a more commercial two-lane road. There were still houses, most of them duplexes, but now they were mixed in with businesses—little shops with sidewalk stands, restaurants, boutiques, everything from hole-in-the-wall places with spray painted signs to national chains.
One of the buildings was a bank with a big digital clock sticking out like a flag. The time it gave was 11:42.
At least we weren’t l
ate yet.
The street and foot traffic had increased. But I started to notice that most of the people on the sidewalks were giving us a wide berth. More than one stepped into the road to swing around us when we passed, and an older lady in a purple sundress practically ran across the street when she saw us coming. An entire porch full of people stood and filed silently inside before the group reached the house, throwing guarded stares our way.
“What gives?” I said under my breath. “Do we smell funny or something?”
Isalie flashed a baleful expression. “Sometime the Path push ’em away. They cain’t walk it,” she said. “But mostly, they think we goan put the gris-gris on them. It’s always like this down city.”
“Yeah, we got the scary juju.” Bastien smiled crookedly. “We ain’t never lay a hand on anybody here, but they still fork the devil sign ev’ry time.”
Isalie nudged him and winked at me. “Y’all oughta see ’em over in Tremé. We go there, they be scatterin’ like fat hens from a fox.”
“All churched up and no place to pray, poor bastards,” Bastien said.
They were trying to make light of it, but I could sense the pain beneath the words. And I remembered something Legba said in the memory Zoba showed me.
As if Christ would lift a finger on your behalf. Do you not know that you and your family are forsaken?
Apparently, enduring hatred and isolation was part of the price of service, too.
At the next intersection, Denei headed across the street against a green light, without bothering to check for traffic. While our group crossed, cars moving toward the intersection slowed to a crawl, coasted to a stop, or pulled to the curb. One black-checkered yellow cab slammed the brakes with a tortured squeal and blazed a tight U-turn, almost cracking the bumper of a slow-moving Volvo.
No one seemed to notice the traffic problems. This was really creeping me out.
The street we were headed for was clearly a narrow one-way with a row of vehicles parked along the right side. But when I stepped past the curb, reality did another jump-cut. And we were suddenly passing beneath a highway bridge on a shoulder that was way too close to fast-moving traffic.
Return of the Hunters (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 4) Page 7
