"Good." Rinoa turned her hose on the rest of the trees in our vicinity.
Dorothy fell to her hands and knees and watched us through hooded eyes. "So you working for them now. All those tears spent were an act to get away and join up with your new techie friends?" She attempted to spit, but it turned into a retch as she vomited up a stream of water.
"Completely wrong," I said.
She fixed me with a glared that if it had been from O'Meara I'd be worried about spontaneously combusting.
"We're defecting to you guys!" Rudy said.
The look of utter confusion on Dorothy's face was well worth my poor whiskers.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
A crow landed, snarling even before it transformed into the black lab Fee, her too-large ears plastered against her head nearly encasing her entire skull. "You dare! Come back to finish the job with new friends, eh?" Her words were so venomous that I would have sidestepped had they been aimed at me. Instead they whipped past. Judging from the intensity of the stare, I doubted Fee even saw me. Rinoa stared levelly at the dog, the firehose lowered but her hands still on the nozzle. The green aura was fading; it would slide out of existence in a less than a minute.
I stepped from between Fee and Rinoa. "As previously explained to your magus. She is here because she doesn't want you and your Cabal to die."
"She's a murderer," Fee growled.
"I hardly think that is uncommon among magi." Thinking of the several hundred that likely lay dead in Grantsville already, I was getting tired of explaining the definition of murder and people telling me it was wrong. "And it is, at this moment, entirely irrelevant to getting everyone out of here before the planes start smacking into each other. Now tell me where Veronica is. I need to talk to her."
Fee snarled at me, and I was annoyed that I had to repeat myself to someone who was mentally linked to the person we'd already explained the situation to. It would have been literally zero effort for Dorothy to pass that info onto Fee. It set my lips trembling to growl, and I turned my teeth to untangling a knot of fur that had been pulling every time I moved my left foreleg to prevent the snarl of frustration. I growled at the taste of the dust on my tongue instead.
A small aura hung in the air in the ring of trees, and the impromptu grooming allowed me a brief glance at a crow that perched in the extinguished branches. That struck me as unwise. The trees didn't appear to be dead, as the tips of the branches glowed red hot and occasionally coughed out sparks in an attempt to reignite the branches. "Naomi, I presume. Care to join us?" I said, or attempted to say as I worked on the knot that wasn't a knot, but a mass of burnt fur that crunched like a Saturday morning breakfast cereal. I didn't see any evidence of Morie. If Naomi had been planning a fight, he'd be with her. A positive sign.
She hopped down and became human. Of the three ladies, her dress was comparatively pristine, a bit of dirt clinging to the hem. She probably spent the majority of the time as a bird. More than the others, she looked exhausted, and while both Dorothy and Ronia had passionate fires that fueled them, the circles under Naomi's eyes threatened to consume her face.
"Can we talk to Veronica now?" Rudy called to her.
"Sure." Naomi gave a mirthless snort of laughter. "You can talk to her all you want. Follow me."
"Naomi!" Dorothy screeched with an indigent whine that became a coughing fit.
"Nothing can hurt her any worse than what's been done," Naomi said, giving Rinoa the fleetest of glances. The sound magus flinched and averted her eyes. Whatever had been in that look, no tempest Dorothy could summon would hurt the girl more.
"I'll go then. I've done my part," Rinoa said, biting her lip.
Naomi nodded.
"Nope," I objected. "Rinoa comes as well. She can't do anyone any good wandering this plane until she gets eaten."
I could feel Dorothy's eyes burning a hole in my back, but I ignored the bully of a woman. Naomi shook her head and asked, "And what gives you the right to decide that?" Her tone was more exasperated than challenging.
"Is Tack as guilty as Rinoa? Does he deserve to be stuck here as well?"
Tack, who'd sunk into the sand as soon as he'd seen Naomi, whimpered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sooorrrry!" Rinoa immediately grabbed her sobbing familiar and pulled him close, whispering soothing words in his ear.
Naomi reached up to grasp at nothing, frustration rippling through her face at the blubbering pup, before dropping it with a gesture that resembled a backhand. "Fine! I don't care. If Veronica ages her to dust, it will be on her own head. Follow me."
It was several minutes before Rinoa could convince her guilt-ridden companion to stand, so we all spent the time waiting in awkward silence.
Everyone except Rudy. He climbed one of the extinguished trees to prod at the growths on the blackened branches. One objected by opening its shell to unfurl blazing wings of blue fire. "Well, that’s no nut!" was all the comment Rudy made before leading the beetle on a merry chase through the treetops.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
We were led through the burning forest to a clearing where a hut had been roughly constructed from the white trunks of the trees. Morie glanced at us as we approached then turned his attention back to the hut. He sat inches beyond a large circle of ash drawn around the entire clearing, and golden wards pulsing feebly just beyond it. Inside the circle, the dusty ground faded from its normal red to the color of ash the closer to the hut it lay. Inside the hut was an aura of someone I didn't recognize.
I stopped at the edge of the circle. "That’s not Veronica," I declared.
"It’s what's left of her," Naomi said, turning to glance at Rinoa, who seemed unwilling to come any closer. "Her bond with Neelius was a deep one."
"Too deep," Dorothy spat.
"Wasn't she standing up when Jules, well, did that thing with the metal pill?" Rudy said.
"Before we found out who'd murdered Neelius, yes," Naomi said. "Afterward she stopped trying to hold herself to together." She gestured to the hut. "If you want to speak to her, go right ahead. I don't expect she'll talk back."
I eyed the gradient of dirt warily. Rudy hopped off my back and shot me a grin. "That's entropy aura in there. Can't risk any more gray hairs here, nope. Way too many already!"
"Rudy, you're a gray squirrel. Your entire body is gray."
"That’s what you think!"
I rolled my eyes and entered the circle, half expecting the ground to give way and swallow me whole. The earth beneath my feet proved solid and once I nosed open the crude door, I found Veronica curled up on a bed of sparking grass. She stared into the wall of the hut, irises dilated so they were a thin line of blue surrounding pools of absolute darkness. She stank of waste and bile, her limbs already wasted skeletally thin. My heart tumbled back into my tail and my stomach raced for my throat. I'd expected to find her sad, depressed, like Scrags had been after Archibald's death, but her condition was something out of horror film hospice. Whatever had motivated Rinoa to confess her crime, the result hadn't been a kindness.
"Stupid," I muttered to myself, at myself. I'd thought to walk in here, bond Veronica and she'd be so grateful that we'd walk out and stomp all over the technomagi, save Grantsville and then... well, I'd deal with that when it came to it. I'd been stupid in thinking it would be that easy. Whatever happened since I'd gained my tail and lost my thumbs, nothing had been easy. I slinked into the hut and pushed the door closed with my butt. "Magus Veronica?"
She didn't stir. It was tough to tell she was even breathing. Further, louder calls gave no further response.
Outside, Dorothy called, "You see? You see what the traitor did to her?"
Mr. Bitey uncoiled from around my neck, and after some gentle encouragement wrapped around the catatonic woman's neck. With a breath I found myself in that place, the negotiation place Mr. Bitey took me before a bond had been formed.
No one stood on the other side of the table, just the tunnel to Veronica's mind. I sought to walk around the tab
le and peer down that tunnel. The attempt earned me a hiss from Mr. Bitey and a force pulled me back to my spot. There would be no bonding a magus without a contract, without consent. He wouldn't be anyone's leash. He didn't think this at me, but the fact of the matter appeared my own mind, tinged with an acid threat. Both a servant and a watchdog. A superpower that policed itself.
My respect for the dragon went up, but it didn't help me with the problem.
"Hello!" I called with my voice and mind.
"GO AWAY!" a chorus of voices answered, thoughts echoing through the negotiation space.
"I'm here to help!" I called back. "I'm a freelance familiar! I want to bond you. Help you escape this place."
An incoherent screech echoed along with a chorus of "NO!" that hurled me back into my own head so hard that it felt as if I got bounced around inside my skull a few times. I staggered against the hut wall and the entire structure creaked in warning.
Yet when I closed my eyes I found the way open, the bond complete, and a screech of invitation echoing. Someone inside that head had said yes among that chorus of no's and that was all Mr. Bitey wanted. Pushing through the bond, I strode into a violent storm. Memories and thoughts pelted me from every angle, each blow delivering a painful insult, a barb. You'll never get it right! Useless! You're going to wear THAT?
I staggered, trying to shrug off the invading thoughts, stumbling until I found shelter under a wing. Neelius stood over me, two disembodied eyes staring, floating in space above a messily severed neck. I nodded thanks to the ghostly eagle, who towered over me like a stone guardian. Those eyes turned from me back to the maelstrom of chaotic thoughts.
I followed his gaze and looked out over the mindscape before me. Storm had been entirely the wrong word. This was a battle. Veronicas of all shapes, sizes and colors fought each other in a brutal brawl. Thousands of battles waged, fears against hopes, habits verses quirks, intuition fighting logic. In the center of it all, two oversized pieces of ego battled it out in an arena flooded with black sludge. A childlike Veronica with giant fists pummeled a frail shadow of adult Veronica in a white cape. The adult Veronica used her billowing cape as a matador would but earned a swift right hook every time she attempted to sweep the cape over her younger self’s eyes. The adult faltered under a counter assault, staggering to her knees. Child Veronica seized her throat with those huge hands and slammed her down to the area floor, the entire mindscape rippling with the force of the impact.
I touched Neelius' side with a paw. "What is this? What am I seeing?"
The eagle's burning eyes turned toward me. "Hope and Ambition. Innocence and Experience. Fear," the bird rasped, then turned its eyes back to the battle.
"Thanks for clearing that up," I replied. Innocence would be the young one. Experience the old one. Innocence was doing her level best to kill Experience. But just as it appeared Experience might be defeated, the frail woman struck with a thunderous force, sending Innocence flying across the mindscape. Experience stood, dusted herself off and shook her head sadly as Innocence charged her once again. The cycle repeated itself, neither combatant emerging victorious. It's hard to kill a piece of yourself.
I decided it didn't matter what parts of Veronica these titans represented. I had to stop this fight. I backed out from under Neelius' wing to get a running start and leapt into the mindscape, sailing over and through the smaller fights, aiming for the center of it all. I landed short, belly flopping into an inky wetness that flooded Veronica's mind. The sludge stung like millions of ants chewing at my skin as I thrashed against it, each sting a painful memory.
O'Meara lying there, not moving, my empty bed by her side. Her mind awash in magical puss, dying because of me. Because I'd been so arrogant as to try to change things, to cling to ambitions of my own.
Noise torn apart by her own family because I hadn't fixed her, hadn't pushed hard enough because in the back of my head I figured she'd deserved to know what it felt like to be thrust into an unfamiliar body.
And behind them all were the faces of Granville, distorted by the pain of hunger and too many teeth in their mouths. The citizens I'd failed to save. That I'd doomed to die because I hoped to make a quick pile of tass working with the technomagi. The tass I'd harvested from the faces of mutating children that left wounds afterward. I'd believed Richard when he'd said they'd be fine. Even if it’s true, what sort of monster goes around making kids bleed?
And it was all going to get so much worse if I didn't get out of here somehow. I paddled up and up until my head broke the surface of the black ocean. Things had to get better. Things were fixable! If I just could get Veronica's attention, we could save Grantsville! I took that hope and threw it in front of me. A glittering raft appeared, floating on the flood of despair. I hooked my claws onto its side and pulled myself aboard, guilt clinging to my skin like oil.
"Ruined! We ruined it all!" Innocence's voice boomed as her blows rained down on Experience's cringing form.
"It’s not lost! We can rebuild! A set- Ooof!" A fist screamed through Experience’s guard, and in the shock of the blow I saw Neelius' death, the bond ripping apart and the hole of pain it left. Innocence sank another blow into Experience’s gut, the sensation of his comforting weight on her shoulder; a sensation she would never again feel.
Experience countered with an elbow filled with a memory tinged with age, a dress, the fabric tattered, fraying even as she sewed the pieces of fabric together, the machine jamming, rusting under her newly entropic touch. The loss of her original craft.
Snapping her head back, Innocence dodged the blow and swung her head to impact Experience’s with a sickening crack. The blow knocked another memory loose. Rinoa stands on stage, screaming, singing, her hands a blur on her guitar. Admiration flows from Veronica for her Cabalmate's skill, even as she releases a weave of indifference into the crowd again and again. A montage of images of Rinoa's spiral into a pit of despair as her once promising career shatters against a wall of carefully crafted apathy. The girl finally awakens when the gun she put in her mouth fails to fire.
"And we believed she would love us for that! Do we love our master for doing it to us? Do we?" Innocence screamed.
No, this was not the voice of Innocence, but Regret and Fear of consequences.
Experience fell. "We want to create, to build. We needed a Cabal, so we built one." The tone, hard, matter of fact, the voice of Ambition.
Veronica wouldn't be the one to challenge my “magi are terrible people” stereotype. She'd allowed her ambition to get the better of her good sense and that had finally cost her. Now I needed to convince her that beating herself up about it wasn't going to help things at the moment.
"HEY!" I shouted.
Ambition turned her head to look at me only to catch a fistful of the terrible things she'd done to Dorothy, which unsurprisingly involved a tornado in Kanas. Regret gave no indication of hearing me. It wasn't the most observant of Veronica's aspects.
In retrospect, there were probably better ways to get Regret's attention than climbing up the skirt of her black goth-lolita dress and sinking my teeth, fortified with a memory of stepping on a nail, into her earlobe. Yet that scream of sheer shock gave me such satisfaction that I barely felt the counter blow that sent me careening through the mindscape and crashing into something rather soft. I moved to right myself and felt the impossible smoothness of fine silk on fingertips, the scent of perfumed linen, and the taste of green on my tongue. Memories of fabrics, I realized with a laugh.
I didn't have much time to appreciate the depth of Veronica's knowledge of fabrics, as I was rudely yanked upward by the scruff of my neck and hoisted into the air like an errant kitten. I gave Regret the most put upon scowl that I could manage.
"What are you doing here?" she growled. "Get out of my head!"
"Trying to stop you from doing something you'd Regret?"
The cacophony of the fighting stopped. Veronicas paused mid-blow or flight, and the few that didn't pause their ho
stilities got the dirtiest looks from the others. Apparently noticing an invader in your brain was important enough to focus her shattered mind.
"We have to kill him. He's seen too much." Ambition rose up behind Regret, her face gaunt, a skeleton with a skin thrown over it. "He'll ruin everything."
Regret narrowed her eyes for a brief moment before she backhanded her compatriot. Ambition collapsed like a falling building.
"Nice one!" I said. "Deciding not to kill your familiar is the first step on the road back to not dying." I grinned with all the front desk cheer I could muster.
"My familiar is—"
"Dead. I know, I was there. Which means you need a new one. Fortunately, I'm available, as my former employer and I had a bit of a disagreement."
Veronica teared up. "You cannot replace Neelius! Leave me alone." I felt ground beneath my paws. Well, the wetness of the grief and guilty sea, but I found something solid right below that. My eyes were still level with hers. I'd either gotten bigger or she'd gotten smaller. Hard to tell in minds; sometimes you were larger than giant, other times you were a rodent scurrying between the walls. Regret-Veronica turned away, no longer looking so young, and fell onto her butt and clutched at her knees, her comically large hands knitting together.
"I never said I would replace him! I'm far too snarky for that." I heard a screech of protest in the distance. "Think of me as a temporary grief consoler."
Veronica hunched her shoulders and put her hands over her ears. Cracks formed along her skin as she strained to shut me out.
Yet she was not my only audience. Countless other pieces heard me speak, and while many had turned their back on me, not all of them had.
"So you've been led to ruin by your Ambition," I said.
Ambition snorted angrily.
"You wanted something so badly that you gave your Ambition free reign. Now you don't want to do anything." I paused. "Because you're afraid. Your Ambitions bit you in the ass and you'd rather lie down and die than find out how everything else is going to blow up in your face."
Marking Territory (Freelance Familiars Book 2) Page 25
