by Ponce, Jen
From the look on Arsinua’s face, I understood that Dad had hit home with her. She was one of those rebels. She and Zech and others I’d never met. Before her silence and the look of pain on her face alerted Dad to something wrong, I scooted around to take the knife from her and gently guide her to the sink to wash her hands. The running water gave her something to do and I patted her shoulder. “My dad dabbles as a writer.”
“Dabbles nothing.” With a snap of his wrist, he took off a sheet of paper towel to wipe his mouth with. “There might be something else I came to Omaha for.” He pulled a phone from his pocket—my dad had an actual smart phone—and did some swiping before holding the screen out to me. “I wrote and published a book. Dev, your old man is a published author.”
FOUR
When Travis came home, he and Dad disappeared downstairs for some sports and man time. With Bethy at Lissa’s and Liam upstairs, I pulled Arsinua aside. “What was that?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just he looked so much like the crystalgraphs of Bran. I couldn’t help it.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You couldn’t help it.”
She ran her fingers through her wild hair. “You don’t understand. He was such a hero to those of us trying to figure out how to change things.”
“Uh huh. And what about Wydlings? You said he married one.”
“No hero is perfect.”
“Really? You too? You do remember I’m dating a Wydling.”
Her lips thinned. “No hero is perfect.”
I think my mouth dropped open. I wasn’t sure, I was too busy being stunned. “After everything that’s happened, after all we’ve done, you’re still hanging onto old prejudices?”
“The Wydlings are dangerous. It’s one thing to want a relaxation of control around the magic, it’s a whole other thing to allow wild creatures into society.” She took a step back, which annoyed me. What did she think I was going to do, smack her? “Your experience notwithstanding, I know the Wydlings have been responsible for many deaths along the borderlands.”
“Oh really. How do you know that?”
“What? I’ve heard reports.”
I thought of some of the craziness I’d seen at the borders. The slave traders. “Have you ever been down there?”
“Of course not. I was needed in the city. I didn’t have time to travel to the borderlands. Had no desire to. What are you implying? That you know more about my world than I do?”
I studied my fingernails to keep from having to look at her. “Maybe I do.”
“You don’t. Think on it. You still keep that Skriven around when I’ve told you a million times not to trust him, that he’s dangerous.”
“He may be, but he’s also saved my ass several times over. So has Kroshtuka and his people. If your prejudice has left you that wrong about the Wydlings, then maybe you’re wrong about Tytan, too.” I didn’t honestly think she was wrong about Tytan, because I’d seen him in action. But honestly, her bigotry would’ve closed many doors and cost me my life had I listened to her about the Wydlings or Ty.
She surprised me by grabbing my arms, her face close, her expression earnest. “Please don’t let any argument we have blind you to that Skriven’s evil ways. I beg you.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply. Travis and Dad’s voices caught our attention. The men topped the stairs, arguing about the game they’d just watched. Arsinua stepped away, but not before whispering, “Please.”
I gave her a short nod but promised nothing. Travis slipped his arms around her and she leaned close to him. I wondered what she would think about my conversation with Tytan this afternoon, and decided I wouldn’t tell her any more than I had to when it came to my spawn.
***
After I had oohed and aahed over Dad’s book—he had a signed paperback for me in his suitcase—I promised to read it first chance I had. Dad went to bed shortly after Travis, Arsinua, and the kids. Alone at last, I went upstairs and slipped into sweatpants. Then I called Danni to ask her how she was doing and what Zech had been up to.
Zech had buried lodestones around her apartment building and had them sitting on all the windowsills, she told me. “The air feels charged, like it does during a lightning storm,” Danni said.
“How are you holding up?”
“Okay, I guess. I’m so glad Zech is here and that there’s is magic to protect me. It’s strange, though, that I’m staying in one place and not running. Devany, running kept me alive. This is, it’s—” She took a deep breath. “Unnatural.”
“There’s always Midia.”
“I know.”
And Tytan. If Tytan found Harrison, Danni would never have to worry about him again.
I really hoped Ty found him.
Really, really.
“Anything happens, you change your mind. Anything, let me know.” She didn’t answer right away and the silence told me something else was going on. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Exactly. Zech and I have been careful. If we go out, we go together. He scans the apartment and the area around it with magic first to make sure there isn’t anything wrong but …”
“But?”
“It feels wrong. Not the magic; I’ve kind of gotten used to that.” A self-deprecating laugh. “Maybe I’m just jumpy.”
“Tell me what you’re seeing, Danni.”
“I haven’t seen anything, that’s just it. It’s a feeling of wrongness. I can’t put my finger on it and I’ve been dismissing it as nerves but I didn’t survive Harrison by ignoring my intuition. And something is telling me we’re being watched.”
“The barriers Zech put up haven’t been triggered?”
“No. Well, Dorothy downstairs hosted her book club last week; her guests triggered the alarms, so we know the barrier is working. And Zech linked the barrier to a bell hanging in the bedroom. It rang when the ladies drove up. Otherwise, it’s been quiet. No ringing.”
“But your intuition is telling you something is going on.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“How far out does the barrier go?”
“To the street on the north and west. To the next apartment building on the east and it covers the parking lot to the south.”
“So, someone could stand across the street and watch you without triggering it.”
“The cops are looking for him; they’re doing extra patrols.”
“What if it’s not Harrison? What if it’s one of his little internet buddies?”
She was silent. Thinking, probably, of someone watching her and feeling creeped out all over again.
“Let the police know you think someone is watching your place. Ask them to keep an eye out for people other than Harrison showing an interest in your apartment. Okay?”
“I will. I wanted to, but I didn’t want them thinking I was crazy.”
“You aren’t crazy. Call them.” I made my own plans to talk to Tytan about it too. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
We talked for a little bit longer about my dad dropping in and the shock of him being a published author. I promised to let her read the book when I was done with it and we made plans to have a girls’ night out with Naomi as soon as Harrison was back in jail—
Dead.
—and life was normal once more.
***
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I set a circle—not one of the hasty bubbles that I could throw down in seconds, but a carefully constructed protection circle. I wanted to hunt for the thing that had slimed my control room and left Kroshtuka in a coma.
Of course, the protection bubble was only the start. I’d always been led by Krosh into the Dreamscape we created, anchored by the ring around my neck. I was on my own this time and wasn’t sure I’d even find it, let alone get out with my brain intact if I met the nightmare-thing again.
“Come on, Devany,” I said aloud. “You figured out how to unmake Ravana. You got out of the Swamp with your life and the head of the fl
eshcrawler king. Surely you can figure this out.”
Surely.
I shut my eyes and pictured the pathway that I walked down to get to the Dreamscape. It was part of a guided meditation Krosh had taught me, and the path was as real to me as the road that led to work, or the hallways in my home.
Gravel crunched under my feet and fireflies lit up the night, dancing in the cypress trees. Things plopped in the water out of sight and frogs sang. It was noisy and the further I walked, the swampier things got, which worried me. When I’d done my first bit of magic on Midia, Arsinua had warned me, “Don’t add anything extra, ever.” I wasn’t sure where all this atmosphere had come from, but I didn’t think I’d added it.
I stopped and clutched the ring, picturing myself back in my bed at home. It didn’t work. I wasn’t in my bed anymore, I was in a swamp in the Dreamscape, though I didn’t think it was the swamp of the fleshcrawlers. Something to feel grateful for. Maybe. Real swamps had gators and snakes. It wasn’t exactly a trade up to paradise.
Heart pounding, I concentrated on Kroshtuka. Pictured his copper-skinned face and beautiful yellow eyes. His dark hair and easy way with a smile. Pictured reaching out and taking his hand.
A loud squawk made me jump, and I lost the image. “Damn it.”
A laugh to my left. In the darkness, shadows raced. The fireflies were winking out, one by one.
Silence roared in my ears.
Then another laugh, this one to my right. I kept myself from spinning on my heel. Instead, I made a second protection bubble, built it in my mind as a tight sphere around my body, rather than the large one that encompassed my bed in the Real. I got it up just in time; black goo spattered against my bubble. Whatever it was sizzled and popped against my magical shield. Though I feared it would eat its way through my barrier, it instead slid along the surface to the gravel. I shrieked when a frog hit the shield, then another. Soon, all I could see and hear were tiny bodies slamming against the barrier like bugs on a windshield. I shut my eyes. Concentrated on my bed. Please let me get back to my bed—
—the noise stopped.
I opened my eyes. A dark shape loomed at the path’s head. I reached down into my control room and put my hands on the imaginary joystick, fingers curled around the triggers, ready to blast my unwanted visitor with magic.
“Hold.” Many voices speaking as one. It was an eerie effect, that sent a creeper-chill down my spine.
“What are you?”
“That does not matter. I’ve come only to warn you because a part of me likes you.” The chorus of voices rose. “Leave the Dreamscape and do not return. It is too dangerous, both for you and those you love.”
I squinted into the darkness, wishing I could see something that looked even vaguely human. “What’s happened? What is that thing I saw in the Dream?”
“The thing you seek is a parasite. A Rider. It leaves its potential in those that hear its words. If the Rider is not killed within a full moon cycle, the potential will become a seed, and more hosts will be infected in turn.”
Shit. So the black gunk in my control room was the parasite, or at least the potential for one. I wanted to take a scrub brush and scour my brain. That meant Krosh was infected too. He’d heard it. Why was he in a coma but not me?
My heart stuttered. Liam. He’d heard the voice in the Dream he’d shared with Sharps. “No. No fucking way. My baby does not have that crap inside him!” Darkness throbbed around me. “Thirty days? That’s all?”
“A full moon cycle in Midia. You have more time, but still a clock is ticking. Find the Rider’s host and kill it. Then the potential is lost and those you love are safe. You, are safe.”
The thing in front of me, the shadow without shape seemed to nod. Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe I was already there. “Find the host. Kill it. Before the full moon cycle.”
“Kill it. Right. So, who’s the host?”
“Someone that hates you very much.”
And I was back in bed, the covers wrapped tight around my legs, my nightgown wrenched halfway around my body. My heart hammered hard in my chest as I dipped down into the control room to glare at the slime that still lurked within.
***
This time I made a list of things I needed to do. On the very top was: ‘Find out what a Rider is and where they like to hide,’ and next, ‘Get the black slime out of me and Liam’—oh lord, Liam. Panic made me shut my eyes tight while I breathed through the terror that threatened to overwhelm me. It wasn’t until I realized I was making keening noises, that I got a handle on myself. Heaven forbid someone heard me and came in.
Back to the list. The list would organize my thoughts and keep me sane, surely. I wrote, ‘Save Kroshtuka,’ and ‘Keep Danni safe,’ though that might fall heavier on Zech’s shoulders than mine. One of my kids was in danger—again—and I wasn’t sure how well I would function until he was safe once more.
Shit. “No. Stop,” I whispered.
I will kill the black thing. Destroy it forever.
I sat up straighter. “You could do that?”
I sense it, like prey in the shadows. I will find it and kill it.
“Yes!” Then, “Wait.” My mind flew over possibilities. “Wait. Can you smell it?”
The spider inside me quivered.
“Neutria?”
Yes. I can smell it. Oily black stink.
I swallowed. “Could you track it? I mean, if someone else smelled like that, would you know?”
More silence. Perhaps.
If I could pay a visit to everyone who hated me, Neutria could smell them, taste them, and root out the one who wanted me dead bad enough to infect people with a parasite. I could kill them before it spread.
“Oh god.” My stomach cramped and I doubled over the book and paper in my lap. More deep breaths. “I didn’t want to do more killing. I don’t like it. Don’t like how it makes me feel.”
You are hard, a hunter. No shame in hunting, in killing.
A common theme with her. My bloodthirsty companion didn’t have any compunction about dealing death. It was survival. I’d done more of it than I’d ever wanted to do. And it had been, at times, very satisfying.
“Focus. List. Look at the list.” I studied it, adding details. ‘Ask Zech. Visit Midia and do research.’ I snorted. Last time shit hit the fan, I’d had the brilliant idea of going to Midia to look for answers, but the problems had come at me too fast to get the opportunity to do something as mundane as visit a library. Maybe I’d be luckier this time.
Then I thought of Vasili pouring over Skriven books and knew he would search for me. I laid the book and paper aside and crossed to my closet to dress, then made a hook and stepped through into the Slip.
FIVE
Vasili’s place was back to its original look; my accidental setting of an entire quadrant of the Slip had faded as other Originators and Skriven took back the controls. I raised my hand to knock, and something shifted inside me. I staggered and propped my hand on Vasili’s house. “Tom?” His soul was still inside me, but I hadn’t felt him lately. Of course, I hadn’t been in the Slip in a long while; my proximity to the place where the Originators purged their souls had probably woken him. The Originators told me that purging the souls meant returning to the Source from which they’d come in the first place. Since I didn’t trust them at all, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to purge Tom’s soul from my body. I didn’t want him to suffer in death any more than he had in life.
A shriek of sound jerked my head up. Something horrible was going on inside, based on the noise. “Vasili? Are you okay?” I couldn’t believe I was asking after the health of the freaky Skriven, but he’d grown on me as surely as Nex had, and Nex was only a head with a mouthful of teeth and trailing intestines. One could go crazy thinking of things like that as friends.
I blew down the door with a blast of magic. Inside, Vasili was in bed with something that looked vaguely like molded gelatin.
“Mistress!” Vasili grinned at m
e and rose, the gelatin quivering in his wake. His hair squirmed around his head, and the black holes where eyes would have been on a human, smoked and boiled. “My apologies. I was entertaining a guest.”
“I’m sorry I blew down your door. I thought you were in trouble.” The gelatin shimmied off the bed and oozed to the floor, making slurping, glurping noises as it coalesced into a humanoid form. “Hi?”
In my mind, it said, “Greetings,” then moved, snail-like, out the door.
“So.” Vasili clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “What brings you to my humble abode?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What’s up with the nicey nice?”
“I cannot be happy to see you?”
“No. It’s weird.”
He flicked his fingers at the door and it slapped itself back into place. Then, still grinning, he held out his hands to me. “Let’s create the protection circle together.”
I slowly put my hands in his, not sure what the hell was going on, but figuring something wasn’t right for him to be acting this way. As soon as our hands joined, a circle went up around the house. “I’ll create it if you fuel it.”
“Of course,” I said and sent power through our contact. In seconds, he was satisfied and dropped my hands.
“They are watching me.” He went to the bed, and set the whole thing on fire. It went up in a whoosh of sound and heat, and in seconds nothing remained but ash. “Sending me visitors.”
“Who?”
“Amara and those loyal to her. She’s pissed you’ve stolen her spawn.”
I scoffed. “Only you.”
“More than me. They are getting ideas. Wanting to pledge their fealty to you. She doesn’t like it. None of them like it. And I’m getting the brunt.” He sat down hard on a chair and buried his fingers in the tentacles on his head.
