The Rise of Magicks (Chronicles of The One)

by Nora Roberts

  “Go to hell,” Fallon suggested as she heard the sound of feet running behind her. “Stay back.”

  “It’s not fair!” Tantrum tears spurted from those black eyes. “You’re mean, and I’m gonna tell. We’ll kill you all! You’ll burn and burn and burn.”

  “I see you now. I see the dark in you.”

  “It’ll eat you up. Chomp, chomp, chomp.” On a scream of laughter, he tried to flash, then looked wildly around when he stayed in place.

  To Fallon’s astonishment, he dropped down to kick his feet, beat his fists in the air. “You’re a mean girl, mean, mean, mean. I wanna go home! Let me out, you shitty-head.”

  “Christ, what a brat. You’re not going anywhere, so calm the hell down. Who sent you?”

  Temper stained his face an ugly red, tears turned it blotchy. But those black eyes gleamed into Fallon’s as he rolled into a crouch.

  A little spider, she thought, poisonous for all its size.

  “The Princess of the Dark has a message for you. Eat this, Cousin!”

  He gathered himself, pulling, pulling power, sucking it in as he might suck in air to blow. Even as Fallon warned, “Don’t,” he unleashed a flood of fire.

  She saw his face, the shock and fear on his face, before the flames struck the barrier, flew back, and consumed him.

  “Oh my God.” Rachel, still kneeling beside a shaken Hannah, scrambled up.

  “No.” Fallon gripped her arm. “He’s gone. There’s nothing you can do.”

  “He—he was just a child.”

  “Age doesn’t change it. He was a Dark Uncanny cloaked in innocence.”

  “There’s nothing left, not even ash.”

  “Hellfire doesn’t leave ash. You’ll want white sage, salt, a cleansing ritual.” Digging for calm, she turned away, helped Hannah to her feet. “I’m sorry I knocked you back so hard. I had to get you clear.”

  “What happened? What was that?”

  “What do you remember?”

  “I . . .” She pressed a hand to her temple. “I was just finished with an exam. I heard my name. Somebody calling me, and there was a little boy, crying, then . . . nothing.”

  Hannah pressed her fingers to her temples as if to push out the rest. “I don’t remember anything. I was on the floor, and he—that thing—was screaming.”

  “He had you in a trance. He had power, and skill, despite his age. He wanted you to go with him. He told you his mother was sick in bed, needed a doctor.”

  “I— Yes, I think. It’s foggy. He was going to kill me.”

  “I don’t think so. I think he was sent to take you to her. To Petra. A bargaining chip.”

  “To get to Duncan and Tonia, to you, but absolutely to them.” The shock and confusion on her face shifted, instantly, to cold rage. “That little bastard.”

  “How did he get through security?” Rachel demanded.

  “I think that’s why she sent a child. Small enough to slip through the security posts, and she’d shielded him. Even I couldn’t see into him at first. And that’s when I knew. She’s not as clever as she thinks. In any case, we’ll fix that. You’re okay?” she asked Hannah.

  “Yeah. I feel it.” She winced as she rubbed her ass. “Small price to pay.”

  “Have Duncan and Tonia make you a charm. They’ll know what to do. Wear it, twenty-four-seven.”

  “Right now, we’re going to exam so I can look you over.”

  “I’m fine, Rach. I landed on my butt. But maybe a little something for the headache.”

  “It’s from being pulled out of the trance abruptly, and not by the one who put you in,” Fallon explained. “The herbal remedy’s better for that than the chemical.”

  “Got it covered. Come on, Hannah.”

  “Okay, okay. Thanks, Fallon.”

  Rachel led her away, glanced back. “So much for the quiet morning.”

  Fallon went directly to Will to report the breach, left it to him to work out how to tighten security. Then she went to her mother to work together on a magickal overlayment.

  That left her little time to check on the prisoner transfers and the progress of the delegation to Quebec. She spent the evening trying various locator spells, searching the crystal, but could find no trace of Petra or Allegra.

  “I’ll get through,” she said aloud. “Sooner or later.”

  By the time she dropped into bed, the two hours in the woods, the simple kiss, the quiet, seemed incredibly far away. And very precious.

  She’d just drifted off when she felt a snap in the air.

  “Just me,” Duncan hissed before she hurled something nasty at him.

  He lay down beside her, wrapped around her. “Hannah. I’m stupid grateful you were there.”

  “She’s okay, right?”

  “Thanks to you.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “I can’t stay. I want to stick close another night.”

  “You made the charm for her.”

  “Yeah. Had to be pretty—she insisted.” He nuzzled Fallon again. “Tonia handled the design so it would be. So it’s pretty enough for Hannah, and effective.”

  She shifted around to nuzzle back. “Mom and I worked out an overlayment for security. I think it’s effective, too. We thought we had enough already, but—”

  “Kid demon from hell. Who expects that? Fucking Petra.”

  “I can’t find her, Duncan. I looked, but I couldn’t find her. I will.”

  “We will. Nobody messes with my sisters.” He kissed her cheeks, her lips. “I can’t stay. But I could take an hour.”

  Her lips curved against his. “This is a really good way to spend an hour.”

  __________

  Fallon spent time with her maps, huddled with her father, Will, Eddie, and others over battle plans. She worked with her mother on potions, with Kim on herbals.

  To keep her hand in the game, she visited the barracks for some sparring, the academy to monitor a class on spell casting.

  And while she continued to search for Petra through the crystal, she roamed through it to mark other areas, study, consider.

  When her mother came in, Fallon sat with her maps at the dining room table. “Back at it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want some tea? After a morning in the community kitchen I’m ready for some.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “It’s wicked cold out,” Lana continued as she moved to the stove to put on a kettle. “I think it’s a night for beef stew. Will you be here for dinner?”

  “Should be.” Fallon rose as Lana ran her hands over a teapot to warm it. “Mom, I have something to ask you.”

  “All right.” Lana opened a cupboard, considered her teas. Chose a ginger spice.

  “I’ve pinpointed the area where Lucy and Johnny came from—the segregated community I told you about.”

  “Mmm. Some people never learn, do they? We’re all in this together. Working, living, loving together makes us whole.”

  “It’s that, how you’re an example of that, know how to communicate that—it’s why I want you to go.”

  “Go?” Lana glanced back.

  “To what Lucy calls Riverbend. There are at least a hundred people, and they’ve managed to defend themselves against the occasional raid. Some, on both sides of the river, will fight if they’re given a reason. I need you to give them one. You and Dad.”

  “You want me and your father to go, try to convince people who refuse to mix together to fight together.”

  “It won’t be the first time, and I can’t think of anyone better suited. You, Dad, and Ethan.”

  “Ethan.”

  “A family. A blended family.”

  “The One’s family.”

  “That’s a factor,” Fallon agreed, and moved in to measure the tea. “A witch, an NM soldier, a young animal empath. Two people who survived the Doom and made a life. The son who’s grown up in the world they’ve helped build and protect.”

  “Have you talked to your father about this?”


  “You first. It’s harder for you because I’m asking you to take Ethan. I’ve seen what you gave up to leave New Hope, and I know what you gave up to leave the farm and come back here. You did it for me, but not only for me. You did it because it had to be done. I need you to show these people what has to be done.”

  Lana stood back while Fallon poured the boiling water into the pot.

  “That’s not all.”

  “No. There are two more settlements. I’ve mapped them. Every person you can rally to fight increases our numbers. I’m asking you to go, talk to strangers, without being sure of your reception, and convince them to put their lives on the line, to send their sons and daughters to fight.”

  “When would we . . .”

  “I’m hoping you’d be willing to leave tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? But . . .”

  She had a rotation in the community kitchen, and needed to pick up some things from the Tropics. She’d promised to work with the herbalists on—

  And the fact she had those things to do, could have them, had helped build the structure for them? The very reasons Fallon asked her to go.

  “Don’t you want to wait until the others are back from Quebec?”

  “They’re due back in a day or two. We’ll know if we’ve got the support from the north. We’ve got the untapped in the Midwest. I’m asking you to begin to tap it. I’m asking you to leave home again. Only for a few days, maybe a week, but to leave home again.”

  “The farm’s where we left it, and New Hope’s right here. Of course we’ll go. We’ll need to talk about—” She broke off at the knock on the kitchen door.

  Starr stood on the other side of the glass with Marichu, the fast, young recruit. “Two more cups,” she told Fallon, and went to answer.

  “Hi. Come in. It’s freezing out there. I thought you’d gone back to Forestville, Starr.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “We’re just making tea.”

  “We don’t want to bother you,” Starr began, then looked at Fallon. “You should talk with Marichu.”

  “Sure. Have a seat.”

  The girl looked around the kitchen, carefully, warily. She’d changed the red in her hair to a forest green, stood in the sturdy boots elves and other cobblers made for the troops.

  “Let me take your coats.” Knowing Starr didn’t like to be touched, Lana simply held out her hand. “Fallon, why don’t the three of you go into the living room. I’ll bring the tea.”

  “You don’t need to bother.”

  “It’s not a bother.” If Starr said she needed to talk to Marichu, Fallon thought, and gestured for them to follow, she needed to talk to Marichu.

  She’d neglected the fire, she realized, while she’d worked with her maps, so flicked out a hand to send it flaming again, and added a log.

  The girl studied the room as she had the kitchen.

  “Sit,” Fallon invited.

  Starr, her face carrying scars from burns so deep even magicks couldn’t erase them, hesitated, then took a chair. Her body carried scars, too, Fallon knew, from Petra’s attack. And her heart and soul carried more, from childhood wounds.

  Outside of training and battle, she trusted and interacted with few. Marichu struck Fallon as much the same. But clearly they’d clicked.

  Lana brought in a tray. As Fallon walked over to take it from her, she murmured, “Stay.”

  Fallon set the tray on the table. “Cookies, too. We’re in luck. I’ve got it, Mom,” she added, and began to pour out the tea. “So what do we need to talk about, Marichu?”

  “I need to fight when you go to New York.”

  Fallon set the first mug down in front of Starr, poured another. “The age you listed is a little shy yet for combat.”

  “Not that much, and I’d have just lied if I’d known you had some stupid rule about it. I fought in D.C.”

  “And you broke ranks. You weren’t on the squad for the lab and containment center.”

  “So what?”

  “That’s not the way,” Starr replied.

  “I fought in D.C.,” Marichu insisted. “I’m faster than any-damn-body who isn’t an elf. I’m better at hand-to-hand than most of the older recruits. I won the last archery tournament, and I’m better with a sword than most. You said so.”

  “I said you’d improved with a sword. She has,” Starr said to Fallon. “I’ve stayed since D.C. to check on progress with the recruits, and I’m going back to the base tomorrow. Marichu’s improved in every area.”

  Fallon poured tea for her mother, herself, then sat cross-legged on the floor, took a cookie. “You broke ranks,” Fallon repeated, “and would have put an arrow in Carter after he’d surrendered and posed no threat.”

  “I—” One hard glance from Starr had Marichu cutting herself off. “You’re right, and I’ve been disciplined for it. I deserved to be. And you were right, what you said in the lab. We’re not like them. We can’t be like them. I’m asking to fight, to prove myself.”

  “New York’s going to make D.C. look like a scrimmage. The DU forces were strong in D.C., but they’ve dominated in New York for over a decade.”

  “I know,” Marichu snapped back. “I was born there.”

  Gaze level, Fallon bit into the cookie. “Were you?”

  “My parents were resistance. My mother was killed when I was twelve.”

  “I’m sorry,” Fallon said.

  “She was a soldier.” Pride rang in the girl’s voice. “She died fighting. They found the safe house where we kept the kids. She and the others beat them back, protected all of us. She died fighting. After that, my father wanted to get me out. We argued about it a lot, but he said he was going to get me out, get me to New Hope.”

  “Here?”

  “Everybody knows about New Hope, but mostly doesn’t believe it. Everybody knows about The One, but mostly doesn’t believe it, either.”

  No longer able to resist, she leaned forward for a cookie. “But they fight anyway. My dad made me leave. Sometimes they smuggle out kids or the old or the ones who can’t take it anymore. He made me go with a group, and said he’d find me when he could. But once we were out, everything went wrong. The crows came, and the black lightning. Everybody scattered. Then there were PWs, and they were taking everybody they could or just killing them. I got away. I’m fast, so I got away. But I couldn’t get back into the city.”

  “She was hurt,” Starr said.

  “It wasn’t that bad. I told you it wasn’t that bad.”

  “She was hurt,” Starr repeated, “and got lost in the smoke, couldn’t find the way back in. Some resistance scouts found her, took her to their camp. Then to a small base farther south.”

  “They wouldn’t take me back to New York, so I took off when I could. And . . .”

  “And,” Fallon prompted.

  “I should’ve stayed with them. I understand that now. But then, I just wanted to get back to my dad. So I took off, and I couldn’t get back to New York. I figured I’d try to come here—Dad drew out a route. It wasn’t exactly right, but I followed it. I ran into more PWs, and . . .”

  “They hurt you,” Fallon finished. “Really hurt you that time. Damaged your wing.”

  “They were going to execute me, but I got away. I still got away. Then your scouts found me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone before, about New York?”

  “I didn’t know you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “All of it,” Starr encouraged.

  “Okay, okay. I figured, at first, I’d learn stuff here, more skills, and I’d take off again, try for New York. But then . . . I know that’s not the right way. I can’t do it on my own. Nobody does it on their own.”

  “A good lesson,” Fallon allowed.

  “Do you know Chelsea?” Lana asked her.

  “Yeah. Our group stayed mostly on the lower. We had other groups on the upper and the mid.”

  “I lived in Chelsea.” Lana held out the plate of cook
ies.

  “I know. There are lots of stories. It’s not like it was—my dad said it’s not, so it’s not. But I know how it is. I know where you can find resistance who’ll fight. I know where the PWs have a stronghold in what was Brooklyn, and where the military bases are in Queens.”

  “I’ve got maps in the other room.” Fallon rose. “Show me.”

  “I’ll show you if I can go and fight.”

  “Show me,” Fallon repeated, “then we’ll decide.”

  It took more than an hour, and when they left, Fallon pored over the maps, the notes, the new markings.

  “I need more map paper. I have to redraw—”

  “You’re going to let her go.” Lana sat, hands folded on the table. “She’s so young, and still headstrong. You can see the headstrong even though she’s trying not to show it. Maybe not to be it, quite as much.”

  “Her father’s in New York, and I’m going to hope she learned her lesson, won’t make the same mistakes. Still, I told her she needed to sharpen her skills with a sword, and she’d need the go from every one of her instructors.”

  “You’re going to let her go. I know you,” Lana said.

  “All right, yeah. What do you think she’d do if I said she had to sit this out? She’d take off. If I said she needed more discipline, same thing.”

  “I know that, too. Just as I know Duncan and Tonia, and most of the others, were already in the fight by her age. But with so many joining, we’ve been able to up the age for combat, give them more time.”

  “Her father’s in New York,” Fallon said again. “Everyone she really knows, the world she considers home. I can’t stop her, so I use her, yes, but she goes back with an army. She doesn’t go back alone.”

  “And still, it makes me sad. I can know you’re right, that I’d very likely do the same, and still be sad. I’ll get your paper.”

  Rising, Lana stepped over, pressed a kiss to the top of Fallon’s head.

  With the new information, Fallon huddled with her parents, Duncan and Tonia, Will. She added Katie, Jonah, Rachel, and Fred for their knowledge of old New York.

  “Tony and I lived here.” Katie laid a finger on the old map. “My parents here, his here. This is the hospital where you were born.”