“It didn’t seem to matter in the other city,” the Fiddler pointed out, but he let Yejun haul him back to the safety of the sidewalk. Then he stopped dead, looking up at the sky.
“Yes, yes, tall buildings,” said Yejun. But I followed the Fiddler’s gaze up, up, all the way up to the dark clouds tumbling into existence.
“They’re coming here because the Horn is here,” I realized out loud. “We need to move. We’ve got at least half a mile to go to get to Jen and Cat,” I snapped, pushing Amber down the sidewalk. “Can you call them and have them meet us, Yejun?”
He shook his head, staring up at the sky. “Won’t help. Not something we can do on the run.” He turned and started walking in the direction of the hotel.
“Fine. Come on, Brynn!”
But Brynn stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring up at the sky. I pulled on her arm, but it was like tugging on a statue. I tugged harder, ready to pull her off her feet and carry her, but that statue comparison was really apt; she was heavy suddenly.
A single dog’s howl, desolate and alone, echoed from the sky. Then horses screamed high above and I glanced up involuntarily to see the Wild Hunt emerge from a ring of lightning, pouring through the rip in space like a waterfall of mounted death. Traffic had barely started moving again after being halted by the Fiddler, but now it stopped once more, as everybody looked up in the sky. A silence fell at the screams of the horses and the roll of thunder, but the wave of sound that followed more than made up for the brief quiet. People started ducking inside buildings like they’d drilled for an event like this. They even abandoned their cars, except for a few who were approached and instructed to exit by cops. One of the police officers near me spoke calmly but rapidly into a headset while staring up at the sky.
“What are you going to do?” Brynn asked, her voice distant.
“You get on under cover, kids,” said the cop. “We’ll see what they’re going to do and go from there.”
“Will they hurt people, AT? Living people?”
I thought about it for only a moment. “They’ll hurt us, so I’m going to go with ‘yes.’ Can we run now?”
“All right,” said Brynn, but it wasn’t about running. She pulled away from me and raised her palms to the Hunt.
“What are you doing?” I moaned and tried to pick her up again, throwing a helpless look at the cop. He was watching with far too much keen interest, I felt.
Brynn threw a dazzling grin over her shoulder at me. “I came on this adventure to save you. And I’m not really sure you need me, but they do. I can save somebody, and I can slow the Wild Hunt down, too.”
I boggled at her. We really had to have a chat sometime about this idea she had of saving me, but I was too bewildered by everything else she’d said to do more than make a note of it. Besides, she was looking back at the sky again.
The Wild Hunt rode down the stormclouds, their mounts prancing and pulling under them and my dogs howling and barking alongside. They had new matching costumes in black and white, with lots of elegant froths of lace and neckcloths. Victorian gothic, I thought dizzily. Who knew? Two of the Huntsmen had swords that dripped ice, while Tala, notable even in the full regalia by her sheet of blond hair flapping in the wind, had a scarlet spear. Ion had his own spear in one hand, and his eyes were fixed beyond us. I knew instinctively he was focused exclusively on Amber, and the Horn. But the rest of the Hunt was ready to party, in their own particular annihilative fashion.
Brynn clicked her tongue three times, like she was calling something. I’d distantly felt the magic contained by her nodes working since she’d started picking up the little dots on her skin. It had purred along like a sports car, exerting a constant low draw on the Geometry around us. I had no idea what it was doing, but I felt it the same way I felt the Curtain between worlds. And now I felt the complex spell kick into overdrive. Everything blurred for a moment and I wasn’t sure if it was just me or the whole world.
Brynn beckoned both her hands at the sky and the horses of the Wild Hunt went mad, bucking and rearing. The Huntsmen were expert riders, each of them, but they weren’t prepared for this, and one by one, they were thrown off their mounts and out of the sky. They fell through the cloud road their horses stood on, vanishing into the city below. As each horse freed itself of its rider, it charged straight down at Brynn.
I stared, open-mouthed, as a black horse with a silver mane turned into a ball of silver-rimmed black light, and then, just as it slammed into Brynn’s chest, it became an inkblot that passed through her shirt and rocked her back on her heels. Then I put my hand on her back, bracing her for the next impact, a champagne palamino-golden light-inkblot. And then the next, and the next.
At last, only Ion remained above us, fighting his horse with an astonishing dexterity. The horse bled from the mouth and wept tears of lightning, but it couldn’t unseat him, no matter what it did. My dogs danced around the rearing horse’s hooves, excited by its frenzy. I stared up at them, my heart in my throat. Could she steal them back, too?
Nod lunged, snapping at the stallion’s flanks. The frenzy really was too much for them to resist, and Ion was far too distracted to exert control over them. Then all three of the dogs jumped on the horse at the same time, and it overbalanced and fell off the stormclouds.
Ion stayed on the horse even then, even as they were both falling, until Heart, swimming through the air, caught at his head and shoulders with her paws while Grim tried to nestle in his arms. That was too much; they knocked him from the saddle. I felt a warm rush of affection: even turned evil, they were still my puppies.
Screaming in rage, Ion and the dogs fell behind some buildings; I hoped nobody tried to play Good Samaritan with him. As soon as he was gone, the stallion righted himself and galloped to Brynn, turning into a blood-streaked inkblot right before he smacked into her torso. She gasped and clutched her chest, then shook herself all over. “That one hurt a little...”
She turned to me. Her outer arms and her neck, and probably her chest and back, too, had all been filled in with long, stylized tattoos of rearing horses. Dots appeared on her right cheek under the curling frame-like mask, and I realized that suddenly she had a whole lot less empty skin.
“Couldn’t get the dogs,” she told me apologetically. “I couldn’t reach them the same way.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t even spare time to pay attention to my burning eyes; there were more important, more current things to worry about. “Didn’t somebody say something terrible was going to happen to you when your skin filled up?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Brynn.
“Hope saving those horses was worth it,” I said, before dragging her along the sidewalk that Amber and Yejun had vanished down.
I made it to the first intersection before a voice from what seemed like a lifetime ago called, “Brynn McKenna Lennox! You stop right there!”
Brynn closed her eyes, paler and more frightened than I’d seen her yet. “Oh no,” she whispered. “It’s my sister.”
-twenty five-
I looked down the cross street to see two faces I hadn’t ever expected to see again. I’d met Marley when I’d been in LA; she’d been the one I was trying to save when I called on my father’s power. And I’d met Branwyn in my father’s house. She’d wanted to save me and my father had broken her arm and thrown her into his dungeon as a result. I still didn’t know quite how she’d escaped.
“Oh my god,” I whispered. “Your sister? Oh, Brynn, no, tell me this is a joke.”
“Sorry,” she said glumly, watching the two young women advance. Marley was an ordinary-looking brunette, but Branwyn had green hair long enough to pull into a ponytail, and she was holding a hammer so large it was probably illegal without a permit. There was a smoky gem embedded in the handle. Marley was a half-blood nephil like me, while Branwyn was a uniquely determined mortal.
“Could we run? I don’t think I can deal with this right now,” I asked hopefully.
“They’ll
chase us,” Brynn sighed. “They chased me all the way here, after all. The Wild Hunt’s got nothing on my sister when it comes to persistence.”
I gritted my teeth, then hauled Brynn toward them. As we got within non-shouting distance, Marley said brightly, “Hi, AT. You look like hell. Can I help?“ She sounded so chipper and hopeful.
“No,” I said. Then I thought about her particular intrinsic magic, which she used to protect people, especially troublesome children. “Wait, can you do something about Brynn?” I presented Brynn by her shirt collar.
“Brynn, you are filthy,” said Branwyn, putting her hands on her hips. “Why are you filthy? No, don’t tell me yet. Tell me where that demon is so I can wring her neck.” She said demon like it was a different five-letter word.
“I told you I was fine when I called,” said Brynn, mustering some outrage. “You didn’t have to—”
Branwyn cupped her ear. “I’m sorry, did you say ‘fine’ or ‘fourteen’? And I certainly did have to, because if Mom came home and you weren’t there, none of us would be ‘fine.’ Now, where is the demon?”
Brynn hesitated, then said uncertainly, “I think she’s dead. Look, we don’t really have time to—”
“Dead?” Branwyn frowned and looked at Marley, as if she could confirm. Marley just shrugged.
“I saw my dogs destroy her,” I admitted.
Branwyn pursed her lips, looking between us. “Your dogs, huh. Well. You two are going somewhere. Let’s talk and walk.” She reached out and took Brynn’s collar from me. With them side by side, I could not just see the family resemblance, but smell it, and I kicked myself for not realizing it long ago. Things would have been different if I had. I already owed too much to Branwyn to risk her sister this way.
“So you rescued my truant baby sister from Tia?” Branwyn inquired. “Thanks.”
“No! No, no, it’s... it’s a lot more awful than that. Uh, did you see those guys in the sky a few minutes ago?”
Branwyn glanced upwards. “A bit. Are they a problem?”
“If we don’t stop them, they’re going to eat every dead spirit on Earth, and probably any living spirit that gets in their way,” I said bluntly. “We’re on our way to stop them. Our friends are ahead of us.” There was a scream behind us and I flinched. “And we’re in the bad guys’ way.”
“Well, pick up the pace, then. Lead on,” Branwyn said briskly. She took a firm grip on Brynn’s hand and started running.
Marley turned and looked speculatively back the way we’d come, then shook her head and shooed me along.
I dashed ahead of them, dodging other pedestrians moving just as quickly. When we got to the hotel, Amber and the Fiddler were standing quietly under the awning, watching Yejun face down a squadron of worried-looking bellhops and doormen.
“This is karma,” Yejun grumbled, patting his pockets.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, coming to a halt behind him.
“They’re not letting anybody in unless they have a door key, at least until the ‘crisis’ is resolved. And Ye here apparently hasn’t been bothering with keys,” Amber informed me. Her eyes narrowed as she looked behind me and saw Branwyn and Marley flanking Brynn. “Who are they?”
“Helpers. I think. Actually, they’re an object lesson in why you shouldn’t be my friend, but we can talk about that later. Um.” I looked over the hotel employees clustered around the door. A few of them had noticed Branwyn and her oversized hammer; this did not seem to be improving their mood. “Can’t you... hum at them or something?”
“It’s still before noon,” Amber told me regretfully. “To them, anyhow.” I looked at the Fiddler, saw the way he was staring at around with the amazed expression of a kitten just let outdoors, and wrote him off as useless.
I went up beside Yejun and leaned on him. “Want me to handle this?”
He stopped trying to sweet-talk the door guards and gave me a hassled look. “Be my guest.”
“Isn’t that the problem?” I gave him a tentative grin, happy to be able to solve a problem he couldn’t for once. Then I turned to Marley. “Hey, Marley, can you keep this G-rated? These people seem like nice folks. I don’t want to actually hurt them and I’m sure they don’t want me to hurt them.”
Marley gave me a startled glance, and then a pleased smile curved her mouth. “I think I can. Go ahead.”
I gave the door guards my friendliest look, and I could tell they were just men, mortal men trying to be brave, by the way they barely looked at me. I was a short, dark-skinned girl. Yejun was scarier. Branwyn was armed. They barely looked at Marley, either, but Marley and I were the most dangerous combination there.
I remembered the monster that Marley’s protective magic hadn’t been able to protect me from, and my burst of amusement faded. “Yo, guys. Get out of the way so we can save your souls. If you don’t, I have to move you.”
They muttered, mumbled, refused. One of them, probably still in high school, managed to sneer and say, “You and what army?” Then one of his companions nudged him and made a little gesture at everybody gathered behind me.
I turned to look back at them. “Huh, I guess I do have an army. But that would be overkill.” I took two quick steps and waded in and—well, I moved them aside. It felt like I’d imagined fighting would feel when I was very small. I could kick somebody aside and I knew they’d be fine, that Marley’s shield would prevent them from actually being hurt. And they couldn’t do a thing to me at all, though that didn’t take Marley’s help.
It only took a minute flat to create enough of a breech that my army could rush through. I waited until everybody was in, Marley giving me an amused wink, then waved at the door guards staggering to their feet as I backed into the building. “Sorry about that! We do have a room here!”
An elevator stood open and waiting for us, with several people inside frowning at its unresponsiveness. They saw us charging toward them and got out of the way fast. Once we’d all crowded inside the elevator, the doors slammed closed and the elevator jerked upward.
The ride up was just long enough for the adrenaline of the G-rated tussle to fade. I slumped against the wall. “That cost us more time than it should have.”
Yejun tickled my wrist. “Sorry. I won’t throw away my keycard next time.”
I rolled an eye at him. “Next time? You want there to be a next time?”
“You guys are cute,” said Branwyn brightly. “When do we find out more about what’s going on? Any chance I can see Tia’s body to make sure there’s nothing I can do to leave my own mark?”
Brynn burst into tears.
Branwyn stared at her, utterly disconcerted, then pulled her close as the elevator came to a halt. The doors slid open. Cat stood there with a canvas bag over one shoulder.
“Jen’s on the roof already. We need open air and more space for this,” he said, joining us. “Take the elevator to the very top floor, Yejun, and then there’s a staircase.”
That was only a couple more floors, and then we piled out and thundered down the hall to a steel door that had been propped open. We went up the staircase like a herd of fabricated dinosaurs. This was not the kind of hotel that had a really nice garden with maybe a pool on the roof. No, it was a vast expanse of pebbly concrete with dozens of pipes and turbines sticking up. Also, there was Jen, who was drawing a diagram near the doorway with fat, colored chalk. Her hair kept tangling and blowing into her face until Cat walked over and handed her a clip from the bag he carried.
She beckoned the rest of us over and gave us a tired smile. “You got the Horn. That’s good. And who are these people? Friends, I hope.” She gave Brynn, who was wiping tears away, a concerned look.
“I hope so,” said Marley, her voice sounding very strange. “Can we get some introductions, please?”
“Right,” I said. “That’s Jen, who is a half-dead wizard; Cat, who is her assistant and has a big knife; Yejun, who is a magical mutant freak; Amber, who desperately wants to be a real girl. You all
know Brynn, but I bet you don’t know she’s got living tattoos of ponies up and down her arms. And, um, this is Branwyn, who makes things, and Marley, who does extreme babysitting.”
“Cat, huh,” said Marley, and she sounded unexpectedly hostile. I looked between the two of them in confusion.
Cat looked over at Marley, then took his round-framed glasses off. Once again the sense of familiarity swept over me. I knew him, but I didn’t. I frowned as he said to Marley, “Ah. I take it you think you recognize me? But I promise you, I’m not who you think I am.”
“Who are you, then?” challenged Marley. “There can’t be that many not-quite-human blond prettyboys called ‘Cat’ wandering around.”
He shook his head and considered Marley for a long moment before saying slowly, “I’m what was left behind when the, ah, previous owner vacated the premises.”
Marley’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”
Jen laid her fingers on Cat’s arm and he startled, looking down at her. “Can we discuss this later? If you have a past history with Cat, that would be very interesting to discuss, given his nature, but we don’t really have time now.”
Marley hesitated, then nodded, and Jen went on: “And who is the man with the violin?”
I looked between Marley and Cat one more time before answering. “He’s, uh... the man with the violin. You know, ‘The Fiddler’ isn’t really a name,” I told him, then looked at Jen. “He complicates everything, but he’s on our side.”
“Our goals align,” the Fiddler told Jen quietly. “There’s something I need to reclaim and I can’t until you’ve done what you need to do. And you can’t do what you need to do unless I’m here to help.”
“Who are you? Sen never wrote anything about you.” Jen gave him a look as if he’d offended her somehow.
The Fiddler looked around again. “I hid the Horn and its song here originally. I never expected it would be used the way it has been, or that it would... insinuate itself so deeply into the fabric of your world. I thought it would be safe. I thought it would be simple.” He crooked that astonishingly charming grin at Jen.
Wolf Interval (Senyaza Series Book 3) Page 25
