"No matter," he said, shaking his head. "Thralls come, and come, and come, woke by magic, drawn by light in the darkness. Now we must leave, never come back. Home ruined."
Aurie's heart broke in two while Nezumi checked on his wife, who was calm despite the danger. The little girl in pigtails standing at his wife's side had big wide eyes as she stared at the open door. She also had a thick hairless tail sticking out her dress.
She slapped the door in frustration. It was never easy, was it? It would have been better had she never had this clinic idea. But it was too late to turn back, she'd already ruined things.
"What are they?" Aurie asked, keeping an eye out the front for the next batch of thralls. The ones in front were still trying to gain their feet.
"His thralls," said Nezumi. "Coming soon, I bet. Woke by magic. Now we all dead."
Aurie looked past Nezumi. His wife had white hair, an elongated nose, and a reddish tint to her eyes. She held their daughter to her side, looking ready to fend off an army to protect her.
"Is there a way out back?" asked Aurie.
Nezumi shook his head. "Alleyway. Thralls catch us there. Keep us for him."
Aurie looked back out the front. The thralls were recovering, making their way to the door. She knew what she had to do, even if it wasn't the best option.
"I'm going to lead them away," she said. "Once they come after me, then you can escape."
"But where? Home ruined," said Nezumi, jowls quivering with sobs.
"I'm sorry, Nezumi. I just wanted to help," she said.
He grew angry and hissed at her, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth. "You bad mage. Bring this on us. You humans all bad. Ruin everything."
Aurie had run out of time if she was going to get away. "I'll make up for this somehow, I swear," she said, before leaping past a thrall about to make the steps. As soon as she landed, Aurie clicked the light on her earrings on. She almost regretted doing so, as there were more thralls than she expected. The street was crawling with nearly a hundred, and now they were focused on her.
A thrall tried to grab her, so she used a force bolt to knock it back. Bad idea. It was like each use of magic turned them up. They came on stronger. She tried to break out, make it to the open street so she could get to the train station, but a group of thralls cut her off. She dodged around the first two, but realizing she was cut off had to make a beeline for her shop.
As she ran, the sensation of wings passing overhead spiked her heart. The presence of something older, more dangerous woke a primal fear. The hair on the back of her neck was at full attention.
She made the clinic, closing and locking the door behind her. The thralls slammed against the window on the door, rattling the bell again.
A fist broke the window. Shards of glass flew through the air, some sticking in her hair. She was cut. Blood flowed from her arm.
She unleashed a jet of flame, powerful enough to char the chest of the first row. This threw them back, but others smashed through the picture window.
Aurie had no time to worry about what else was out there as the crowd flowed into the front room, ignoring the jagged glass as if it were merely cardboard.
There were too many to fight, so Aurie retreated towards the back. A thrall flanked her and grabbed her wounded arm. She blasted fire into his face, but he held on. Only when she yanked her arm away did it come free, helped by the slick blood.
Aurie threw herself into the back room with the mannequins, locking the door behind her. Fists pounded on the door. She could hear glass breaking as more marched into her clinic.
While the front door that she'd come through had been made of iron, the door between the two rooms was flimsy wood that bulged as the creatures pressed against it. It wasn't going to hold, and she didn't want to rush out the back, or the other thing in the darkness might get her.
Aurie whispered to the door that it was strong and could withstand a battering ram if needed. This helped the door, but she knew it wouldn't hold forever. There were too many of them.
She looked around the room for things she might use for spells. She always kept a few reagents in her purse, but it was in the other room. The only things in her pockets were the keys and a tube of superglue. The room was empty save for a pile of coat hangers and the dozen mannequins lying in a pile like a plastic pyre. It wasn't a lot to go on, but she couldn't be picky in an emergency. She'd make do with what she had.
Aurie grabbed a mannequin, a female model missing an arm, and set it near the door keeping the creatures out. She whispered to it, explaining that it wasn't really plastic, but flesh. She knew this wouldn't work for long, but she hoped to distract the creatures long enough to give her a head start.
She only got half the mannequins in place before the first hole was put in the wooden door. Aurie abandoned the rest and started working on the hangers. She unfolded a few into long wires and twisted them together to make a cube-like scaffold. Some creatures didn't like the touch of iron, and she hoped the winged creature was one of those.
As the undead bashed the door into bits, Aurie waited at the back with her hanger sculpture. She wanted them to come all the way in before she went running out, in hopes that the big one in back would be lured in by the thick scent of flesh.
When the first creature shambled into the room, ignoring the light from her earrings, it went straight for the nearest mannequin and started bashing its plastic head. Aurie caught the reflection of crazed eyes before she switched her earrings off.
As more shuffled in, falling upon the remaining mannequins, Aurie went out the back, taking the time to lock the door with her keys while simultaneously trying to ignore their rattling as her hand shook.
Distant city lights reflected off the upper portions of the building, giving Aurie a good idea of her running lane through the alley. She thought she'd gotten away until she broke into the street and she heard wings thrashing into the air from the front of the clinic.
With the coat hanger scaffolding suspended above her head, Aurie pumped her legs as fast as she could. It was a good half mile to the Red Line station. If the coat hangers didn't work, there was no way she was going to make it.
The horrible presence neared. She reflexively ducked as she ran, which probably saved her neck from getting snapped off when the creature flew over, snatching the coat hangers from her hands. A crumpled pile of hangers went bouncing past Aurie.
Shit.
The thing circled her from above. She zigged and zagged a few times, hoping to throw it off, but she had so far to run.
Then it was gone. She couldn't feel it above her. Aurie wondered if she'd passed some invisible barrier, then a heavy boot hit her in the back, throwing her forward to tumble into a pile.
The winged creature landed ten feet away. There was no mistaking the malevolence directed at her as it made a laughing sound so deep that it only registered as a rumbling in Aurie's chest.
She thought about running, but there was no way she'd get away now. She was feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, the fear-filled sprint, and getting knocked off her feet. She'd have to make a stand, here and now.
Aurie staggered to her feet and removed her earrings. She whispered to them, telling them how they were mini-suns, waiting to come out, to shine like the deep desert, when nothing could avoid their gaze. Then she pulled the tube of superglue out, performed a bit of delayed transference magic on it, and threw the earrings as she activated them. The sunburst was as bright as welding light. Even Aurie was temporarily blinded, but she sprinted ahead, brushing past the leathery wings of the creature.
The earrings stuck to the creature, which screamed in rage. Aurie pushed as hard as she could, glancing back occasionally to see it still fighting to remove the earrings. They didn't seem to be injuring it, but annoyed it enough that it was distracted.
By the time the earrings had been removed, Aurie was way down the street. She finally let the fear into her limbs, if only to go a little faster as she imagined it ri
ght behind her. She kept expecting to be lifted off the ground, to be carried high into the air in its deadly embrace.
She'd seen it briefly when the earrings had flown through the air. The image of a well-dressed human with leathery wings wasn't what she'd expected. The nature of its origin unknown to her, but she had no time to contemplate as she raced towards the train station.
Eventually her lungs and thighs burned so hot, she was forced to slow, especially when her boot ripped from the sole, giving her a partial flat tire. Salty sweat stung her eyes, and she recognized she'd lost too much blood. Between heaving breaths, Aurie patched her arm with a simple spell. It wasn't permanent, but she could worry about that later.
At last, she limped onto the train, throwing herself into a seat right across from the door. A mother and her two boys got up and moved when they saw her sweat-soaked hair glittering with broken glass and blood-soaked arm. Aurie watched the open door for the appearance of the creature, only allowing herself to relax when the doors finally closed and the train lurched into motion.
Aurie laid her head back and closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of being alive. That'd been too close.
When she opened them, the woman was still staring at her, holding her hands over her boys' eyes. They both squirmed to get a look at her.
Aurie heaved quietly, catching her breath, shame filling her chest at the disaster of her first night in the district. She hoped that Nezumi and his wife and child had gotten away, but even if they had, they had no place to go as she'd ruined their home. Why was trying to help people so hard? Aurie leaned her head against the cold glass and watched the lights turn into streaks.
Chapter Two
The ethereal sounds of experimental jazz wafted into the back room of the Glass Cabaret, vibrating the picture frame in Pi's hands. She took a big breath and blew the dust off the rectangle, revealing a picture of Radoslav standing next to a mobster with a Tommy gun tucked under his arm. Except for the cut of his clothes and a slightly different haircut, Radoslav hadn't changed a bit.
Pi imagined a shiny picture frame and whispered to it. A halo of dust puffed away, coating her hands and cascading to the floor. She set it in the early 1900s pile and was digging through the box when she heard a purposeful foot scuff in the doorway.
Radoslav, the owner of the Glass Cabaret and a city fae, stood with his hands behind his back, his impeccably tailored suit and thin tie reminding her of Joseph Gordon-Levitt if he had chalky skin tones and eyes as gray as an Irish day.
When he didn't say anything, she shrugged and pulled out the next picture frame and blew the dust off.
"Preparing for a birthday party?" she cracked, letting a wry smile ghost her lips.
He stared at the brick wall on the other side as if it were a movie screen. A trickle of worry shivered down her spine.
"Radoslav?" she asked.
He blinked and looked back to her as if he'd forgotten she was in the room.
"Yes?" he asked, his voice making her want to spill her every secret. It was getting easier hearing him without getting all mush-brained, but she had to concentrate.
"Why do you have me doing this? I mean, isn't this a waste of my talents? Can't you have one of your employees clean this room out?" she asked.
He raised a lone eyebrow, a gesture honed to a priceless art form. After working for him for a year, she'd come to appreciate the language of that one motion. He could say a thousand things with it. In this case, it was both mocking and humor-filled.
"They might wonder about my history if they saw me standing next to Billy the Kid or Anastasia Romanov," he said.
"They don't know?" she asked.
"Deep down inside they do, but they choose to ignore it," he said. "Besides, they cannot enter this room and leave."
A chill passed through Pi. The room didn't seem remarkable. The walls were regular brick and mortar.
"It's a place of between," he added.
It must be her ability to wield faez that made it possible for her to leave, she decided; otherwise he would have never let her in.
Radoslav kept staring at the back wall.
"How come I haven't seen any pictures of your family?" asked Pi.
"We do not speak unless it is necessary," he said.
"How long has it been?" she asked.
He tilted his head. "One hundred and thirty-one years."
She didn't know much about the maetrie, but it tugged at her heart to think they were estranged.
"You should let them know how you're doing," she said. "I wish I had family to talk to. After my parents died, there was no one left, except my sister and I. I've checked online, but there's no one else. Supposedly my dad had a brother, but he ran away from home at a young age and disappeared somewhere in Russia. I'd give anything to learn about my family."
"Be glad you don't know the rest of your family. They might disappoint you. I know mine have," he said, glaring at the wall.
She checked over her shoulder. "Why do you keep looking over there?"
His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly. Disappointment. She knew that gesture well. He did that after just about every job she did for him. Why is he disappointed...? Oh. Between.
Fae magic required extensive mastery of linguistics, even more than Infernal. Many a historian thought Tolkien had used fae as a basis for his Middle Earth, except that he'd dumbed it down for ordinary readers.
Pi whispered a few phrases and cast a spell on her eyes so that she might see past the mortal structures that bound her world. Like ink being bleached by the sun, the brick room faded from view until she could see through the walls to the rain-slicked street. Spires twisted themselves into the sky, the tops hidden by the low clouds, ever-present giants watching with disapproval. Two figures moved towards them with impossibly slow grace.
"Are they coming to see you?" she asked.
His lip twitched, and his eyes turned black. "You've done enough today. Come back tomorrow and finish."
"Could I stay? You're the only maetrie I've met," she said.
"Be glad," he said, a little more forcefully.
"I promise I won't say anything," she said. "It'll be good for my education, which is good for you. My employer. Maybe I'll want to re-up at the end of my three years."
"Re-up?" he said, tasting the words like a fine wine. He seemed amused by her loyalty.
"I might need a favor down the road," she said.
To her surprise, he agreed. He blew out a puff of smoke that collected around her. It made her feel dizzy, like she'd been breathing in a bag for a minute.
"Say nothing, do nothing. My enchantment will obfuscate your presence. They will know you're here but think you're a leal guardian, or a summoned imp. You won't be worth their notice," he said.
Pi slipped into the corner, imagining herself as a mouse. The room no longer held boxes of old pictures. An obsidian cube sat in the middle of the room like a table. Power vibrated from the object, making the back of her teeth itch. She assumed it created a portal between realms, just like their runic switches had last year.
As the two figures neared, the vibration increased until Pi was squinting. Their features stayed blurry as if they were living watercolor paintings.
They stepped through the barrier as if it were a waterfall. Their details snapped into existence. Pi gasped, eliciting a flickering glance from the first maetrie. It was damning. Dismissive.
Pi hated herself for staying, until she remembered it was their inherent magic.
"Raddie, ya facking clank," said the first.
He wore a jet-black three-piece suit with a black tie. Reminded her of David Beckham if he had pale hair and sharper features. Could cut glass on his cheekbones.
"Slyvan," said Radoslav with a coldness that should have seen frost coming out his mouth, then to the second maetrie, "Bastone."
Bastone, she guessed, was the muscle, based on his size and imposing crossed arms. It took a moment for Pi to realize his arms were made of iron.
The maetrie weren't as allergic as their forest cousins, but she couldn't imagine one having iron permanently attached to his body. It would make a fearsome weapon though.
"Now that you've seen me, you can kindly get the fuck out," said Radoslav in a level tone.
Slyvan adjusted his black tie. "Have a mind, Raddie. Have a keen mind. Her Ladyship don't like that you been ignoring her requests, that you been ignoring your obligations."
The thickness of his speech surprised Pi. It reminded her of a cockney Englishman trying to do a Russian accent.
"I've been busy," said Radoslav with as much effort as if he were brushing a piece of lint from his lapel.
"Her Ladyship don't give a fack about your busy. Be busy for her. She needs you," said Slyvan.
"I do appreciate the sentiment," said Radoslav. "But I must decline."
Bastone, who had been standing back, stepped to Slyvan's side, letting his iron arms swing.
Radoslav raised an eyebrow. It said: "Do you think I give two shits about you?"
Pi snorted softly in amusement, drawing another glance from Slyvan, this time more lingering. His forehead bunched.
Before anyone could do otherwise, Radoslav produced a dusty bottle from the inside of his jacket. He held it out like a magician performing a trick. Both the Ruby Queen's henchmen looked at it with apprehension. He unstoppered it. Three shot glasses appeared in his hand. Without spilling a drop, he filled them.
"You must be tired. I know how exhausting crossing the barrier can be. This'll knock the shine back into your hustle," he said.
Bastone reached out to receive a glass, but Slyvan knocked them out of Radoslav's hand. He'd moved so fast his hand had blurred. The glasses shattered into smoke; the liquid sizzled on the stone.
"She told us to take nothin' from him," said Slyvan, admonishing his partner.
Radoslav's nostrils flared. "Now you've been rude, so you may leave."
Her magic-enhanced eyes saw the nearly invisible smoke seep from his skin like hungry tendrils. By Pi's judgment, the two Ruby maetrie didn't even have a candle's worth of power compared to Radoslav's bonfire.
Web of Lies (The Hundred Halls Book 2) Page 2
