by D. R. Perry
“That’s everything. There’s only one thing left to do.” Maddie stepped away from the counter. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed her warding spell.
“Yup. Go open the top drawer of my dresser.” I watched her cross the room, nearly mesmerized by the steady, strong pulse under the smooth skin on her neck.
“Stakes?” She raised one eyebrow.
“You have to use one. It’s the only way I won’t go nuts and try to turn you in a couple of minutes.”
“Not the only way. If that Spite or anything else breaks in here and you’re staked, they’ll take your head, and that’s the end for both of us. We’ll need to be able to protect each other.” She dropped the stake back in the drawer and closed it. Then, she pulled her sweater over her head, draping it over her jacket as she approached me. “You won’t be at full power with what I can give, but this way we won’t have to fight each other or leave you paralyzed. Relax. My mom and dad do this all the time.”
“Maddie, we shouldn’t.” I shook my head. “I haven’t done this all the time. All my blood came from bags or donors who used knives. I’ve never even bitten anyone before.”
“Huh.” She put her hands over my shoulders, gripping the back of the chair behind them. “I’ve never been bitten either.”
By then, I couldn’t say anything else. She’d draped herself across my lap, leaning against me in a way that reminded me of leaping the wall. Had I really felt like a hero then, like something more than a parasite? I needed that confidence back. I lifted one hand, stroking lush, dark curls back from her neck. Gazing into her eyes was like contemplating the vast potential of a new evening. They held nothing but hope and promise. The confidence I needed was right there, with her.
Finally, I understood. Like Rappaccini’s daughter, Maddie had grown up tending a garden of shadows and unlife, fatally poisonous to most. She knew the consequences and risks that came with affection for my kind, maybe even better than I did. What I’d written off as parasitic, she’d watched work as symbiosis. I’d heard stories of Shi May as a kid, how he used his scrying to help people. I’d thought of him as a hero. His own daughter thought I could match his example. If I believed in her, I had to believe in myself.
I tilted Maddie’s head down, kissing her lips tenderly as I recalled the focus training that kept me sane and controlled all those years. I’d need all my mental armor for this, like I’d used on her amulet. My memories from that time seeped up like groundwater in a drought, except now I understood why crafting that amulet had been such an emotionally draining task. I'd done it before, under enough duress to wipe the memory. But the only way to beat fate was to break cycles.
“Let’s make some positive coincidence,” I murmured against Maddie’s throat.
The sensation of her flesh parting under my fangs and the sweet, hot taste of magically infused blood threatened to drown my focus. I’d left my island of carefully controlled solitude in a desperate attempt to reach civilization. I’d never make it by myself. But I wasn’t alone.
“We already have that.” Maddie’s voice was a lifeline, her words a rope to cling to. The tide of blood washed me up on dry land. My calm returned. After I disengaged and licked her wound closed, she blinked sleepily at me, running her hand down the side of my face to stop at my chin. She kissed the corner of my mouth, then leaned against my shoulder.
I carried her to the bed and set her gently on top of the quilt. Her pulse was steady, but not as strong as earlier. I kissed the inside of her wrist before putting it down, then brushed some stray curls off her forehead. She’d need sleep, then food. I could give her that. Maddie dozed off just as I covered her with an extra blanket. I put on the Siouxsie record she’d reached for earlier, then flipped idly through the Seelie creatures book and waited.
Chapter Sixteen
Maddie
The incandescent light was almost too bright when I opened my eyes. The staccato clatter of boiling water rattled in my ears, followed by the slosh of pouring. Henry stood in the kitchen, clinking a teacup against a saucer. That sound was pure comfort. He bent at the waist as he set the tea and a plate of graham crackers on the table.
I sat up with a heaviness in my limbs like I’d slept under a lead blanket. My throat felt dry and my stomach rumbled, but nothing hurt. I shuffled toward the table. Henry pulled the chair out for me, smiling. His fangs were normal length, and his color better, even if not as sanguine as back in the cafe.
“Thanks.” I sat.
“No way you’re thanking me.” Henry glanced at the plate and cup in front of me. “If I served you fillet mignon and lobster a thousand nights in a row, maybe I’d deserve thanks.”
“Actually, this is exactly what I want right now. My stomach’s still fluttery.”
I inhaled graham crackers so fast the tea was still too hot when I finished. As I blew on my cup, Henry brought over another stack. I ate those too, sipping between bites. The kitchen clock read a quarter to five in the morning. Something about that bothered me.
“They're still out there?”
“Yeah.” One corner of Henry’s mouth tilted in a half-smile that avoided his eyes like the plague.
“Shouldn’t they be gone by now?” I glanced at the clock again. “It’s almost sunrise.”
“Check the book.” He opened it to the Spite page then pushed it across the table.
“They stay until full sunrise? That makes no sense. What kind of summoned thing does that?”
“Seelie ones, apparently. Makes perfect sense to me.” Henry glanced at a spot high on one wall, practically near the ceiling. “You can’t hear it yet, but the Spite’s been working on getting in here for the last twenty minutes. They can chew through stone, so even though my landlord bricked up the windows, they’ll get through, eventually.”
“When?”
“Sometime around six, maybe earlier.”
That can’t happen.” I flipped open my satchel, grabbed my phone. “I’m making some calls.”
“Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t know what kind of spies Brodsky might have on the rest of the group. If they’re overheard, he might send something even nastier after them.”
“What can be worse than a Spite?”
“More Spites.”
“Okay, good point.” I pulled my portable keyboard out and propped my phone up. “I’ll text instead. Can Brownies read?”
“Nope.”
“Good.” My fingers tapped messages to Blaine, Lynn, Josh, and Nox.
Henry dragged out a battered old Dell and fired it up. In a minute, his fingers moved with blurred speed.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting in touch with the Nocturnal Lounge crew. Fred Redford and Tony. Maybe they know how to distract it.”
“I can see why you’d call Fred for that since he’s a Redcap Changeling, but Tony?”
“Tony’s a gossip. He works for Faeries and pays attention.”
“Why not just use SMS to talk to them?”
“This is better, especially since Brodsky seems to favor using Seelie creatures.”
“Nocturnal Faeries are Unseelie, huh?”
“That’s a myth. When a Changeling takes a mantle, they can pick either Court. Seelies are traditional, and they like things to stay the same. Unseelies push rules to the limit. They’ve adapted better since the Big Reveal, so younger Changelings tithe to the King instead of the Queen. It’s shifting the power balance pretty steadily. Add in centuries of bad blood and the stories each Court spreads about the other, and you’ve got a tempest in a teapot.”
“Are the stories true?”
“Exaggerated. The only cure for that kind of misinformation is hard proof.” Henry sat back and cracked his knuckles. “It’s one reason Headmistress Thurston opened PPC to everyone.”
“Education’s the only way to fight hate.” I glanced up at him. “It’s why I want to teach.”
Henry opened his mouth to say m
ore but closed it when my phone beeped. The message was from Josh. Made sense. He’d be the only one remembering me. But then one came from Nox. I checked his first.
Mom’s raiding Brodsky’s now. I showed the message to Henry before reading Nox’s.
Spites hate water. I showed that one to Henry, too.
“If they find the Grim’s anchor they’ll arrest Brodsky.”
“Spites hating water isn’t going to help us, though. I can’t do Water magic. Best I can manage is hide a puddle and run through so it follows me.”
“No puddles in here, especially with the faucets warded.” Henry leaned back over his keyboard again. “Tony says to check that book. What’s he mean?”
“No idea.” I scratched my head, unsure why he’d mention that. I sent lists to Lynn and Bobby. Another message came in from Nox.
Evidence Achievement unlocked, APB out. Police tracking Brodsky now. I showed that awesome news off.
“But will they find him in time?”
“What’s that noise?” I glanced at the clock again. It was half-past five now.
“That is the sound of bricks in a Spite’s jaws. I’ve been listening to it for the last two hours now.”
“But the sun’s coming up. How much time do we have?”
“Maybe twenty minutes.”
“Sweet Dark Night, what does Tony mean by a book?”
“Dahlia!” Henry bolted out of his seat, reaching across the table for my satchel. “She tried to stake me so you’d pick up her old book.” He held up Umbral Affinity and You. I hadn’t had a chance to look at it since the night in the basement lounge. I opened the cover, feeling a tingle as I picked up the corner of the flyleaf. Instead of flipping it, I rubbed it with my palm. An inscription showed up, all shadowy purple letters.
“Dear Dahlia,” I read aloud, “someday, a dear friend will need a dark in the lightness. Make sure the right one gets this book when the time comes. Contingency and coincidence demand no less from our family. Love, Grandma Josephine. P.S. p.138.” I thumbed through to the indicated page.
“Henry, look at this.” I pointed at the entry.
“Sun Shield?” He blinked, his mouth wide open. He reached down and brushed the tip of his finger across the typeset-indented words. A thread of golden energy I’d never seen before surrounded the title. Gold was Luck energy, according to my textbooks. That stuff had no alignment to any magic school, element, or planetary influence. Only Tanuki could turn it. I blinked, and it vanished.
“Grandma used to tell stories about this spell. If I can figure it out, we could go for a stroll down College Hill in broad daylight.” I turned my phone and keyboard toward him, then went over to the turntable. I changed the record from Siouxsie to one by The Chameleons. As I sat on the bed studying the old Umbral spell, the bass thud of Swamp Thing, the first song we’d danced to, filled the room. “Man the messages. I’ll figure this out.”
The spell needed something that absorbed sunlight, something that cast a shadow, and something sunlight would destroy. I grabbed Henry’s solar-powered calculator off a stack of bills. That’d do. I’d need to attach it to something I could hold over our heads. I read that the reason I’d need something sun-vulnerable was that this spell only worked in life-or-death situations. This totally counted and meant I could use Henry as that component. I got up and pulled a big, black, bat-like bundle of metal and polyester from the umbrella stand.
“Got any super-glue?” I’d need to attach the calculator to the outside of the umbrella, then imbue the whole shebang with Umbral magic.
“Drawer under the bathroom sink.” Henry didn’t even glance up from typing.
The glue was right where he’d said it’d be, but so was something else. Someone, actually. A short, squat little figure with a scarred leathery face and patched conical hat rubbed their eyes sleepily. They stood, clicked its heels together, and gave me a salute. Then, they handed me the glue.
“Um, thanks.” I held the tube between my thumb and forefinger. “Who’re you?”
“Gee Nome, Lady.” The little creature adjusted their pointy green hat and puffed out their chest. “I watch this house. Good to see a Lady with the Gentleman.”
“You might want to hide a little better and then go back to sleep.” I literally kicked myself for not recognizing a Gnome. Those were pure Unseelie creatures, the kind responsible for missing socks and misplaced glasses. I’d asked them a question without thinking and if I asked two more, I’d owe them a favor.
“Why should I hide, Lady?”
“A Spite’s about to break in here.” I peered behind Gee to see if there was anything else useful in there, while also checking for more Gnomes or whatever. “You don’t want to be around when that happens.”
“A Spite? Really? Who sends those anymore?” Gee rolled its eyes and tapped their foot three times on the bottom of the drawer. “I could help the Gentleman. Sun’s rising, you know.”
“Oh, I know. I’m Umbral, so I’m doing the Sun Shield spell.” I held up the glue. “This is to put my sun absorber on my shield.”
“You can’t fight Spites while you do magic, Lady. And the Gentleman’s weaker while the day-star shines.”
“I know.”
The Gnome looked up at me with a mildly expectant smirk. They knew something, maybe even had an ability that could save Henry. I’d have to ask them directly.
“What can you do to help, then?”
“Glad you asked, Lady.” The Gnome smiled, displaying rows of sharp metallic teeth. I’d read somewhere that didn’t have their own teeth, just whatever they could steal. This one must have gotten them from a hardware store. “I can make sure you have help. All you must do is ask for it.”
“I don’t imagine you’ll get more specific without me asking another question.” I looked into the Gnomes eyes, trying not to blink. My time was running out, but I’d know whether they’d volunteer that information in the next few seconds.
“Two items, and four of your friends to bring them.”
“Fine, then.” I took a deep breath. Saving Henry and my magic were important enough to owe a pure Unseelie Faerie. At least they were only a Gnome. “Will you help us?”
“Yes, Lady.” The Gnome rubbed their hands together. “Make your shield, then leave this place with the Gentleman. Help will find you in time.” It held its thumb and middle finger up and winked, then snapped its fingers, vanishing in a small cloud of greenish smoke.
“Who were you talking to?” Henry’s voice came from the other room.
“Gnome.” I closed the drawer and carried the glue out of the bathroom, shutting off the light as I went.
“Oh. Gee. Did they give you the glue?” He glanced up from the screens.
“Yeah.” I waggled the plastic tube at him, then went across to the bed and opened the umbrella.
“Good.” He turned my phone toward him. “Huh. Nox said she just found something that might put a dent in a Spite.”
“Awesome.” I coated the back of the calculator with glue. “Anything else?”
“Oh, Josh said Tony snuck away from the crime scene, talking to himself.” Henry shook his head. “That guy. You never know what he’s up to.”
“Maybe I do, but there’s no time to talk about that now.” I had to focus on umbrella-imbuing and tell him about Gee. I gestured at my little project. “Once this is done, we should get out of here.”
“Yeah, good point. We should keep at least a five-foot distance from the Spite if we don’t want it stealing our magic.” He typed something again. “Olivia says we’d better make that six feet and head west. Well, duh.”
“Wow, she’s up?” I had glue all over my fingers, but the calculator stuck to the fabric. Restarting the record helped me focus. “I hope they track Brodsky fast. How are you at running in the daytime?”
“Regular human speed.” Henry typed one more thing, then shut down his computer. “That’s one of the Spite’s problems. They move at a human pace because as Sprites, the
ir wings gave them extra oomph. Getting a head start at vampire speed will help us.”
“Let me imbue this. We leave immediately after. We need as much of a head start as we can get.” I put my hands on the umbrella.
The song’s intro guitar riff hooked me, tightening my concentration. When the bass drum thudded out its steady beat, Henry turned up the volume. I felt the music now, in the umbrella under my hands and the bed under my crossed legs. I let all my thoughts and feelings about darkness pulse down my arms and out into the hastily crafted device.
Henry’s voice mingled with Mark Burgess’s as he sang along about a tune calling to him.
Shadows had been my friends for as long as I could remember, their shapes appearing on the wall between my hands and the nightlight I turned on just to create them. I summoned them all to my memory and let them power my magic. The duck and the bunny, the cat and the owl—creatures of comfort. The spider and the shark, the wolf and the dragon—creatures of predation. The church, the steeple, the tree with stubby child-finger branches—sites of safety. I gave the energy these forms and willed it into a new shape, one to protect me and the man who’d never forget me, no matter what.
My lips moved, forming words without sound around the lyrics we’d sang at the AS220 weeks earlier.
The magic enhanced mere fabric and aluminum into a shadow construct to protect us from the inevitable dawn. Shelter we could take with us, hold over our heads out in the open instead of waiting in here for that Seelie demon to tumble the wall down on us. I opened my eyes. It was done. I’d imbued my second magical item. I had to hope it’d last long enough under the sun’s relentless eye.
The lyrics implored me to leave, to go now. They were right; it was time.
Henry had packed everything back in my satchel and had his own backpack over one shoulder. I took the umbrella in one hand and slung on my satchel with the other. Keeping continuous contact with the shield was a must, or I’d risk it running out of energy at the worst possible time. I stood in front of the door while Henry undid the locks.
