Edge of Dreams

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “And significantly dangerous, given that you came out this time half frozen.”

  “I have to risk it.” I said.

  “I know. I get it. She’s your sister.”

  I’d been prepared for a lot more argument. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t die.”

  “I don’t plan to.”

  “Who does?”

  I drank the last of the milk. My hands were back to flesh tone, and I no longer felt like a corpse. “It’s time,” I said, urgency starting to claw at me. “Maya, I have to go now.”

  She said nothing, but I felt the wormy tendrils of her magic drawing back out of me. After a minute, she patted my shoulder. “I have done what I can, chica. Try not to stay too long with los muertos. They steal your life essence, even when they do not wish to.”

  “I’ll go fast,” I promised. I stood and gave her a hug. “Thanks.”

  “You are welcome, querida. Perhaps if you wanted to visit with me, you might invite me to dinner, rather than get hurt? I would not be offended if you didn’t need my services.”

  The otherworldly white filming Maya’s eyes cleared.

  “I will,” I said. “I promise.”

  “Good. And buena suerte. Good luck. I will be ready if help is needed.”

  “Thank you.”

  I looked at Cass. She held up a hand to keep me from saying anything. “No good-byes or anything mushy. I’ll be here, too. But I’m thinking Maya has the right idea of it. Girls’ night. Elle, you’re invited, too.”

  “Of course. I’d love to,” she said as she helped me into my flak jacket. She tightened it on, then put a bracelet around my wrist. “It might not help, but if anything can withstand the cold, it’s this. It’s a shield spell for extreme weather.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced past her at the vault. “Maybe I should go look for helpful spells.”

  “I got it,” Cass said, and went to look.

  I buckled the gun belt around my hips, then took out the .45 and checked it, chambering a bullet before holstering it again. Elle dropped the null necklaces over my head and I slid them under my shirt so that they touched skin. She tucked the heal-all into one of my pockets. She frowned, vanished into the vault, and came back with two more.

  “Better to be overprepared,” she said.

  “I hope I’m overprepared,” I said darkly. I had a feeling nothing I carried would be enough. I don’t need to stop Percy, I told myself. I just need to keep him busy until the cavalry arrives. I can do that. Even so, I had a feeling I was going to have to get win-the-lottery lucky.

  I drew a breath. Since my luck didn’t usually run toward the good side, I had another plan in mind. Percy was a narcissistic asshole, as far as I could tell. My best bet was to piss him off and hope he did something I could take advantage of. Being pissed screwed with a person’s decision-making skills. I could work with that. At least it was playing to my strength. If there’s one thing I knew how to do, it was piss people off.

  Cass returned empty-handed. “I checked the electronic inventory. It’s fairly well-categorized. The search didn’t bring up anything on spirits or ghosts. Since you’re a tracer heading into traceland, nulls will likely be your best bet.”

  “I’ve got those.”

  “Then you’re set.” She took my hand, then pulled me into a hug. “Whatever, happens, don’t die. We can fix almost anything but death. Remember help is already on the way. All you’ve got to do is not get killed before they get there.”

  I hugged her back, grinning despite myself. “I’ll do my best. So far, I’ve got a good track record.”

  She pushed away. “Good, because Price is going to want to murder you himself for going in on your own.”

  “That’s not exactly motivation to stay alive.”

  “Nope, but I hear makeup sex is fabulous.”

  “Isn’t that called necrophilia? I mean, if I die.”

  “Hmm. You could be right. Wouldn’t be nearly as fun as a corpse. Best not die then.”

  Famous last words. “I won’t.”

  Chapter 18

  Before I went back into the trace realm, I mentally sorted through the belongings I had with me. Was there anything that might have Taylor’s trace on it so that I could pull through right to her? I had nothing. I was going to have to count on using my own trace to get to the hangar.

  I touched the bracelet Elle had given me and activated it. Magic swirled around me. My stomach churned uneasily as I dropped into trace mode. I reached inside, uncertain what I should do next. Usually, I grabbed for someone’s trace. I decided to pick up Cass’s, letting myself fall into the soul-chilling cold.

  Once again, I found myself inside the ribbon jungle. The shield spell vanished. The cold seeped into me, faster than before. Maya had healed me all she could, but my body—no, my soul—hadn’t fully warmed. I couldn’t be here long if I hoped to help Taylor at all.

  I hadn’t been to my sister’s hangar for about five months or so.

  “Riley? What are you doing back so soon?”

  I jumped and faced my mother. With such unrelenting silence to this dimension, I’d imagined I’d hear her coming somehow, or see her.

  “Taylor’s in trouble,” I said. “I need to get to her hangar before she gets hurt.”

  “Taylor?” My mother frowned. “Who’s that?”

  I wanted to disappear. “My sister. Half sister. Dad remarried after you were killed.” That was a sentence I’d never imagined I’d be saying. I carefully didn’t mention he’d remarried within a year. “I need to help her. I’m the reason the sadistic fuck is going after her.”

  Though it was difficult to read her ghostly expression, I could tell it was pinched with pain. “Have you been to the place you want to go? This hangar?” she asked.

  “I have, often. I null my trace a lot. I’m not sure when I wasn’t nulled at the hangar.”

  She nodded. “It makes it a little harder if you nulled away your trace, but not as much as you think. If you’re as strong as I think you are, no trace can ever truly disappear for you. You need to let go of all other distractions—”

  The conversation was surreal. My mother had been a low-level tracer, as far as I knew. But then, what did I really know for sure? Everything before my dad disappeared could be fiction. The whole foundation of my life, of everything I thought was true and solid, was crumbling away from beneath my feet, leaving me adrift. Was anything I remembered about my parents, about my childhood, real?

  She waited while I untwisted Touray’s, Price’s, Leo’s and Madison’s traces.

  “Now take up your own. Gather your power and shove it out into your trace. Follow it back to wherever you need to go. Pay attention, because it will be very fast, and you must stay focused or you will lose your trail at those points where you’ve nulled out. If so, you have to start all over. Remember that your trace is there, but it will be faint. When you get where you want to go, do as you did before. Go quickly. You’ve been here too long. Be careful. And don’t forget to come back.” With that, she vanished like a light going out. Dramatic.

  I followed her instructions, focusing on my trace. I gathered my power and pushed it out along the ribbon. It might as well have been confetti, for all the times I’d nulled out my own trace. Still, my mother was right. I could follow it, even when I could no longer see it. It was a thickening, a current of electricity that flowed through all my trace, no matter how suppressed.

  I could feel everywhere I’d been as I raced along. I traveled so fast that I shot past the last time I was at the hangar. It took a minute to figure out how to reverse myself. I retreated until I could feel my trace bisecting the right spot. I gripped hard and pulled myself out.

  I staggered into Taylor’s office, tripping over a trash can and sprawling onto the floor. T
hick carpet absorbed the noise. I clambered to my feet. I was alone. I still wore my flak jacket, but the shield spell was depleted. The window blinds were drawn. I couldn’t see out into the rest of the hangar. Not that there was much to see. The place was covered in a steeply pitched roof that was heated in winter to keep the snow off. The far end of it opened to allow a copter to lift off. Taylor had a fleet of eight. They sat in their own garage stalls on magically modified cement pads that hovered inches off the floor. Those could be easily guided out under the roof opening and back using only a pallet jack, or three or four strong bodies.

  She had a crew of ten pilots whom she rotated shifts between, plus another dozen ground crew, mechanics, and office staff. They all shared a bullpen next door that also contained a communal kitchen, a lounge, ping-pong and pool tables, dart boards, and card tables. Beyond that were a dozen crash rooms outfitted with bunk beds and showers, where employees could refresh themselves during long shifts. A door in the back corner of Taylor’s office led first into a private bathroom, and then into her own comfortable apartment. She stayed there whenever business got hectic. Between wealthy travelers, business people, summer and winter vacation traffic, and the fall hunting season, Hollis Air was often hectic. Her rim-top hangar had a similar setup, though it was much larger to accommodate the jets. The trouble was, I wasn’t going to be able to handle another trip through the spirit world if she wasn’t here. Someone would have to fly me up.

  It occurred to me then that Taylor might not be in Diamond City at all. Hope bloomed in my chest. She ran a lot of her own long-distance flights. She could be in Paris right now, or halfway to Singapore.

  I circled around her desk and plopped into her chair. She had three monitors hooked up. I tapped the calendar icon.

  “Dammit!” She wasn’t on a flight. In fact—“I am so going to kill that bastard,” I said, my teeth clenched so hard I was surprised I could make any coherent sounds.

  On Taylor’s appointment calendar, she had scheduled a helicopter flight for one P. Caldwell, along with five passengers. I glanced at the clock. That was over an hour ago. Had they already left?

  I cleared the screen and brought up the security cameras, flipping through as I searched for Taylor.

  What I found was so much worse than I expected.

  Chapter 19

  Bodies littered many of the security screens. Blood leaked across the floor like streaks of black ink. I recognized almost all of the people, most having worked for Taylor for years. I didn’t realize I’d begun crying until my vision blurred. I swiped away the tears, but they kept coming. On the waiting-area camera, I found a family slumped in their chairs. The youngest kid was probably twelve. She sat in utter bewilderment, a dark hole in her forehead.

  I flipped past. I couldn’t think about that kid. But just because I didn’t want to think about it, didn’t mean it was so easy to wipe the image from my mind.

  I found Taylor in the main hangar. It was set up almost like a stage. Taylor sprawled in a recliner chair someone had dragged from the lounge. She wore no bonds. A length of chain circled the chair on the floor. Her body twitched and shook and her expression was rapturous.

  Oh shit! No, no, no!

  I was too late. Percy had infected her with Sparkle Dust.

  Percy perched on the arm of the chair, watching Taylor succumb to the drug. His long white-blond hair was caught behind his head in a neat ponytail, and despite the weather, he wore a dark suit. He glanced up at the camera and smiled gloatingly, then waved. I flinched away, my heart leaping into my throat. How could he know I was here?

  Slowly the answer came. He couldn’t know that I was here, that anyone else was on the way. He thought he had all the time in the world. He expected me to see this later. He knew at some point I’d see it, and then he’d have his revenge. He was enjoying imagining my helplessness and horror. If I could have killed him right then, I would have.

  Luke hulked behind Percy, as stone-faced as ever. He had two pistols on his hips and an assault rifle cradled in his arms. My hands flexed into fists. I didn’t want to believe it, but I knew he was at least partly responsible for all the deaths in the hangar. I thought of the family in the waiting area. How could he?

  My fury at him startled me. It’s not that I’d thought he was a good guy. I knew better. I just hadn’t figured he was such a cold-blooded killer. I’d thought he’d tell Percy to fuck off before he ever slaughtered an innocent family. I owed him, but if I survived the day, I was going to make sure he paid for that, if nothing else.

  Off to the side was a blond man and a younger girl, both bound with their hands in front of them. They looked terrified, and the girl looked like she was about to faint. I guessed they were Madison’s father and sister.

  Other than that, there were another two goons. Both looked like muscle-bound military types. They bristled with weapons, including assault rifles. They had their backs to the others as they watched for incoming trouble. Percy plus five companions is what it had said on Taylor’s appointment calendar. They were all I was up against. All. Like I wasn’t outnumbered and outgunned. I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of defeating them.

  How long before the strike team Elle had sent got here? How long before Price, Touray, Leo, Madison, and their little army moved in?

  It didn’t matter. Right then, time ran out.

  Percy slapped Taylor’s cheek. Her face jerked to the side with the force of it. He slapped her again, then gripped the front of her shirt and pulled her upright. I didn’t realize I’d moved until I was at the door, my hand on the knob.

  I stopped myself, taking a breath. I couldn’t just barrel out there. I couldn’t take Percy and his men alone. I had to keep him busy until help arrived.

  All right, so I’d keep him busy. He liked to taunt and gloat and torture. What if I walked down there and let him do just that? I’d survived that once; I could survive it again.

  I reached up and touched the hidden null on my scalp. Things had never been so bad that I really considered activating my scalp null. Now—Should I? Was this that rainy day of imminent death? Was I down to the nuclear option? Could I gamble everything on an experimental null?

  I knew what I planned for it to do, but hadn’t risked testing it. The null was just as likely to kill me as save me, so I figured I’d wait for more dire circumstances.

  Dire had arrived.

  The null was designed to work even after I passed out. It not only nulled out all magic within twenty yards of me, it sent out a pulse of crippling pain to anyone in the vicinity. I’d had it since I was eighteen. I’d created the null and then hired a tinker and a dreamer to weave in the pain part of the spell. After that, I only had to continually reinforce it. Unlike the null on my belly button, the hidden one on my skull was already and constantly tied directly to the flow of my magic. It only exhausted itself when I was dead. Which meant that if I passed out before I could deactivate it, the chances of it killing me were pretty perfect. Plus, if I ended up in a coma or needed medical help, I was screwed. And all of that was with it working properly. Then there were all the ways it could just go haywire and fry me like a bug in a zapper.

  I’d always just liked knowing I had it. The null was a way to fight, and a way out, if it came down to being owned by someone like Percy. If I was forced to activate it, then it would be because I saw no other way out, and death was better than living. I figured that was my own silver lining to a shitstorm. I never imagined I’d need it to rescue my sister. I just hoped it would work.

  I turned the knob on the door and peered out. The office door faced the main part of the hangar. At center stage, maybe twenty-five yards away, was Percy’s demented little circus act. Between us was a tiny ultralight helicopter made by Dynali. It was mostly windshield and seats, and sat only two people. Taylor used it for sightseeing trips, or to take photographers up
over the mountains. I dashed over to it, easing around under the tail to see what was happening.

  Percy had managed to get Taylor’s attention. She stood on her feet beside Luke, who had a hand hooked under her armpit to steady her. Handprints in red decorated her cheeks. She swayed.

  “She isn’t ready,” Luke growled. “She can’t fly like this.”

  “Thank you for stating the obvious, Luke. I thought she’d be more resistant, as her sister was.”

  “Half sister,” Luke said.

  That earned him a rebuke from his twisted boss. “Never correct me. I should hate to have to delay your next dose.”

  Luke’s teeth bared in a silent snarl, but he said nothing. So he’d been given Sparkle Dust, too. Did that mean he’d told Percy his talent? Or revealed that he’d helped me and Madison escape? Logic said no. Percy wouldn’t have let him live if he knew Luke had helped me.

  That’s when I noticed the yellowing bruises on his face. The black and white security cams hadn’t revealed them. What other damage was he hiding beneath his clothes? A surge of empathy ran through me. Percy had hurt him, hard, and he still hadn’t revealed his secrets. That said something about the man. That’s when I remembered the dead family in the waiting room, the hole in the little girl’s head. My lip curled. That said something, too. So Luke had been tortured and force-fed SD. That didn’t let him off the hook for acting like a human being.

  “Miss Hollis,” Percy said.

  I tensed at the sound of my name, then realized he was talking to Taylor. When she didn’t respond, Percy slapped her again, raising his voice as he spoke her name again.

  “Fuck you. Why do you keep hitting me?” Taylor asked in a slurred voice. Her head rolled back on her shoulders so she could look Percy in the face. Her mouth was swollen from the blows, and one of her eyes was starting to turn black. A trickle of blood rolled down over her lips.