Lincoln

by Christina Bauer

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” says Walker solemnly.

  I step closer to the pier’s edge. According to the water model, the Tower of Wonders is a tall tiered structure, made of simple blocks of stone. It’s more medieval than fancy. There’s never been a location listed for the Tower of Wonders, but that’s not what strikes me about this. Upon closer inspection, I see thin windows along the winding exterior. Inside the structure, effigies march around. All wear armor or carry weapons.

  “Are all the effigies warriors?” I ask.

  “Every last one,” answers Cordelia.

  “They are?” asks Walker. “I thought he carved dancers.”

  “That’s the story.” Cordelia raises her arm, making the water model of the Tower of Wonders disappear. “The Tithe made such pretty dancing girls that the archangel Aquila gave him a magical mallet and chisel, he used those to bring his statues to life.”

  Something about this new model doesn’t sit right with me. “Can you create an aerial view?” I ask.

  Cordelia sniffs. “This is an awful lot of asking without any giving.”

  “Don’t I always pay?” I ask.

  Not with kisses, though. From my pocket, I pull out a necklace made from small purple shells and toss it to Cordelia. ore supplies from Striga. This jewelry packs an energy punch. Not as strong as a kiss, but it’s still something.

  “Oh, delicious.” Cordelia loops the necklace around her throat and makes a yummy sound. After that, she snaps her fingers. A fresh wall of water rises up, like a chalkboard. On it, I see the coast of Manhattan as well as a small square for the enchanted oil rig.

  For a minute, I do nothing but stare at the map.

  Walker steps to my side. “What is it?”

  “There’s something about that spot,” I reply. “Maybe it related to something underground in Antrum or above in Heaven?” I shake my head. “I can’t place it now, though. I’ll have to ask the archivists for more material.”

  Walker steps forward. “There’s something else we need to check,” he says. “A thrax minister, Devak, made a pact with the Tithe. Devak stated that he was the fourth soul. Three souls are left after him. Do you have any idea what that might mean?”

  “The Tithe wants a tower full of statues?” asks Cordelia. “Who knows? That warlock is bat shit crazy.”

  “So crazy,” agrees Dwyn.

  “Can you guess what he’d want with a quasi demon?” I ask.

  “Not a clue,” says Cordelia. “The Tithe is obsessed with angels, not demons.”

  Walker pales, which is something considering how he’s already dead. “What kind of angels?”

  “Rank and file warriors,” says Cordelia. “All his effigies are exceptional in that nothing sets them apart. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes.” Walker exhales. “That’s a relief.”

  I give Walker the side eye. “What would be different if the Tithe were interested in archangels or seraphim?”

  Walker lifts his chin. “Nothing I could tell you about.”

  Which in a way tells me something. There’s something here that involves Myla, but now isn’t the time to press for answers. Cordelia and Dwyn are already licking their lips. The two will start demanding kisses soon. I make a mental note to press Walker about it later.

  All in all, it’s been a rather successful chat with the mermaids. As the saying goes, discretion is the better part of valor. Never let it be said that I don’t know when it’s time to leave.

  I bow slightly at the waist. “Thank you so much for your time, dear ladies.”

  “Hey,” calls Dwyn. “I didn’t get payment.”

  I reach into my pocket for another enchanted shell necklace.

  “No, I want a kiss,” declares Dwyn. “From the tall one.”

  I take a half-step backward. “I really don’t think that’s a good—”

  But Walker’s jumps into the harbor and starts making out with Dwyn anyway. Damn. He really should have taken the ring. Racing off the pier, I jump in after him.

  Splash! Icy water presses in around me, like a thousand needles piercing my skin at once. Walker has looped his arms around Dwyn’s torso. I’d say they’re still kissing, but that’s not really how it works with mermaids. The motion is more of a mutual lip assault.

  I swim over to Walker, pull out the extra anti-glamour ring from my pocket, and jam it on Walker’s pinky. He’s too far gone, though. Walker pulls off the band and tosses it in the ocean.

  Double damn. That really was the easiest way to save him.

  “Must … kiss,” says Walker, his voice dreamy. Already, his super-pale skin is turning even more colorless. Dwyn is going to town here.

  “So tasty,” says Dwyn.

  “Don’t be a greedy bitch,” scolds Cordelia. “Give me a turn.” The other mermaid has dropped down from the pier. She now bobs in the dark waters nearby.

  I grasp Dwyn’s shoulder. “Let him go.”

  “Not yet,” she snaps.

  “Uhhh,” moans Walker. His eyes are rolling back into his head. This is getting serious.

  “Last warning, Dwyn.” This time, the mermaid doesn’t even bother to reply as I pull another charm from my pocket. This item may resemble a grimy penny, but it’s actually a ricochet spell for ghoul portals. In other words, this coin will force Walker to open a portal to the last place he visited. Technically, I’m only supposed to use it when interrogating ghoul criminals, but we thrax have a saying, no rules on demon patrol. In my opinion, these mermaids count as an official mission.

  Snapping the penny in two, I jam the broken halves against Walker’s neck. His eyes widen. The water around us churns and bubbles.

  “Get back, Dwyn!” I call.

  “I said, not yet!” Dwyn tries to hold onto Walker as his limp body sinks under the waves.

  I round on Cordelia. “Get her out of here or she’s dead. I mean it.”

  Cordelia speeds forward and grabs her friend, pulling Dwyn away. A moment ago, Dwyn and Walker were locked to each other. Now, there’s no sign of my friend. Instead, a spinning vortex of liquid swirls in the spot where Walker last kissed Dwyn. I dive underwater, swimming with all my strength until I grasp Walker’s arm.

  Finally.

  Together, Walker and I get sucked down into the vortex. Water whooshes in my ears. Bits of seaweed smack my face. I press my lips together, fighting the urge to breathe.

  At last, Walker and I tumble out onto the floor of Walker’s squatter’s apartment. Gallons of dark water pour through the ghoul portal in the ceiling above us. For a few seconds, the cold liquid cascades like a waterfall. A heavy rumble fills the air.

  Then the portal closes.

  I sit beside Walker on his living room floor. At least two feet of water surround us. Fish flop around. Old plastic cups, cigarette butts and seaweed bob about. Half of an old bicycle sits in a rusty pile nearby, its front tire spinning. Walker sits nearby, his head sagging forward.

  Rising, I slosh-walk over to my friend. “Are you all right?”

  Lifting his head, Walker coughs out some dark water. “That was horrible.”

  “I’d say I told you so, but that’s rude.”

  Walker rolls his eyes. “You’re a real pal.” He surveys the room and sighs. “This is a disaster. Do you have any charms that can get rid of this water?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Walker picks up a scrap of fabric from the waters nearby. “Is this a thong?”

  “Why, yes. Yes, it is.” I can’t help but smirk. “Maybe we grab some disinfectant spells as well. Portal me back to the camp, and I’ll set you up.”

  “Thank you,” says Walker. “And Lincoln?”

  I lift my brows. “Yes?”

  “Never let me approach another mermaid.”

  I chuckle. “You have a deal.”

  Standing up, Walker wrings water from his t-shirt. The droplets cascade to the floor, waterfall style. “You now know where the Tower of Wonders is hidden. Do you plan to confront the
Tithe?”

  I swipe back my wet hair and think things through. Walker raises a good point. “Here’s the thing,” I begin. “My first fight with Devak. It wasn’t a fight at all.”

  Walker tilts his head. “Meaning?”

  “I’ve sent out battle scouts before. They give intel on where demonic troops are positioned, weapons, readiness, you get the idea. That’s what the fight with Devak was like.”

  “So it wasn’t an attack. It was more of a testing.”

  “Precisely. And the trouble is, the Tithe is learning about me. I know zero about him. It’s unwise to marching into enemy strongholds without much more solid information.”

  Walker rocks on his heels, a motion which makes swishing noises in his new indoor pool. “Until Tithe makes a more aggressive move, your best plan here is to wait and learn.”

  “Agreed.” I wring our water from my own shirt. “Now, let’s get you those charms so we can clean up this place.”

  “You’re a true friend, Lincoln.” His words drip with sarcasm.

  “And?”

  “Only you, my true friend, would get me charms to fix my ruined my house … which you caused get destroyed in the first place. As a favor.”

  “Anytime, smart guy.”

  With that, Walker opens a portal and off we go.

  12

  “Don’t worry, son.” Father nervously scans the open grounds of the Ryder mansion. “She’ll be here any minute.”

  By ‘she,’ Father means Lady Adair. Today’s the infamous garden party I discussed with Aldred.

  “I’m not worried, Father.”

  Unfortunately, Mother is off attending another mourning ceremony for Kamal. That means Father believes he needs to keep me company while offering advice.

  In a shocking turn of events, Father has been less than helpful.

  I scan the scene. Young thrax lords and ladies step around the wide yard behind the mansion. Everyone wears formal garb, meaning gowns for ladies, tunics and mail for men. There’s a hedgerow maze, which many try to navigate. Small tables are set out with various drinks and snacks. We thrax love our cheese and mead.

  Father bobs on the balls of his feet. It’s what he does when he’s getting especially anxious. “Many ladies arrive late to formal events. It’s their way of saying they’re interested.”

  “You don’t say.” As in, you really shouldn’t say this. Being late is just rude.

  “Once you two spend time together, you’ll see the truth of it.” Father lowers his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “You don’t share power or your heart. Rulers are best off alone.”

  “So you and Mother have said.” Many, many times.

  “See that?” Father gestures toward Lord Erasmus, a noble from Striga. Lady Chione of Horus strolls along by his side. The two trade stories and laughter. Why is Father pointing this out? The sight only tears at my heart. I’ll never have that kind of connection with my wife.

  “I see them,” I reply.

  “That’s a lot of lovey-dovey falderal and nincompoopery.”

  “Nincompoopery?” Father tends to make up words. It’s one of his more endearing practices.

  “You know what I mean.” Connor sighs. “Ah, here she is now. Lady Adair.”

  The crowd still as a newcomer steps into the party. Adair is a dainty girl with blonde hair, mismatched eyes, and a slightly turned-up nose. Aesthetically speaking, she’s pretty. I wait to see if that sparks some emotion within me.

  Not a bit.

  Father takes off while Adair steps up to me. There are no greetings or regular court formalities. Adair immediately launches into an extended soliloquy about her dress. Or perhaps it’s her shoes. She might also mention her dead goldfish. I’m having a hard time staying focused. Both Adair and her father have a gift for chatter.

  As with the start of the awards ceremony, I slap on an external look of mild interest in Adair’s speech. Meanwhile, I internally review the latest information from my researchers in Antrum. They’ve been hard at work, trying to map out what’s below and above the Tower of Wonders. No one’s asked for this before, so the maps arrive scraps and bits, like pieces of a puzzle. I even asked for an extra table into my cabin, just for those slips of paper. Every day, I spend some time placing them into alignment: Heaven, Earth, and Antrum. If there’s some correlation between the location of the Tower of Wonders and those three realms, then I’ll find it.

  I’m still mentally repositioning pieces of map when Adair’s soliloquy takes a nasty turn. “Did you hear about the angel who was mugged by a quasi girl?” she asks.

  “Yes, I received the reports,” I reply. “It’s a rumor, nothing more. Please don’t repeat it.”

  Undeterred, Adair continues to share stories of quasi lady cruelty. Did I know they roasted children alive? Poisoned their ghoul leaders? Killed their mates after sex?

  Each time, I say that is another rumor, and to cease sharing. That doesn’t stop Adair, though. This turns out to be yet another way she’s similar to her father: both Adair and Aldred have issues with listening.

  “Quasis are really dangerous.” Adair shivers dramatically.

  “May I be honest with you?” I ask.

  Adair steps closer. “Of course.” She begins blinking and pursing her lips. I’ve seen that combination of moves from other ladies. Adair may be expecting some kind of profession of love. If so, she’s about to be sorely disappointed.

  “I suspect your father suggested you share unflattering tales about the local population. The fact is, there is very little crime in Purgatory, and what happens is mostly caused by the ghouls. The quasi people deserve our respect and support. I trust we can move onto other topics of conversation now.”

  Adair steps back. Her blinking and lip-pursing stops immediately. “Father thinks you’re interested in a quasi girl. The one from the awards ceremony. Were you fighting with her as a demon, or flirting with her as a woman?”

  Before, I’d wondered what Aldred was up to after the awards ceremony. Now, this scheme is clear. Aldred has sent his daughter to ask me about Myla, instead of confronting me himself. Coward.

  For a moment, I debate simply walking away. Quality time with Adair is clearly a bust. However, doing so would only confirm my romantic interest in Myla. That might place my girl at risk.

  “As of this moment, my only marriage interest is with thrax. Does that answer your question?”

  “Oh, yes!” Another too-loud giggle follows. “Guess what?”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “I’m the Scala Heir.”

  The way she stares at me, it seems we won’t move on from this topic until I provide a response. The heir is always a thrax, so that part comes as no surprise. But what I know about the current heir doesn’t line up with Adair. Verus has been hiding the true heir for years. Honestly? I don’t doubt that Verus would bother protecting Adair. The Queen of the Angels loathes the House of Acca.

  “Well?” urges Adair.

  “How very nice for you.”

  “You must be wondering how I kept it hidden for so long.”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “The truth is, I didn’t even know! You see, a demon visited my mother one night, taking the form of my father.”

  “That’s a lot of detail, Adair.”

  “Nine months later, there’s me!”

  “Shouldn’t there be something unusual about the pregnancy? I thought the current Scala, Maxon Bane, was born rather early.”

  “No, it’s totally and absolutely normal for a Scala Heir to be a nine month pregnancy. The only issue is that Mom was too embarrassed to say anything until now.”

  “Well, she is a rather quiet woman.” In fact, the Duchess Adelaide does little outside of try to blend into the scenery. Considering she has Aldred as her husband, I don’t blame her. If married that man, I’d hide behind the drapes.

  “Exactly.” Adair purses her lips again. “And since I’m the Scala Heir, you have to marry me.”
<
br />   Those words make my stomach churn. “Not following the logic.”

  “Maxon Bane is near death. Who has two thumbs and will run the after-realms after he’s gone?”

  “Don’t do it.”

  She does it. “Me!” Adair gives me a double thumbs up.

  “What an interesting theory. However, the royal physicians say Maxon Bane will live another two hundred years.”

  “False. People can die at any time. Look at Devak. He was only 400. Father says Maxon Bane is next.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Does he?” I wouldn’t put it past Aldred to fake that Adair is the Scala Heir lie in order to get his damned marriage contract signed. And Aldred’s scheme could easily include murder.

  “What I said is true.” Adair huffs. “The current Scala won’t last much longer.” She sets her hands on her hips. “Father is always right; that’s why everyone’s afraid of him. We can do anything and live anywhere, even Hell. Did you know that?”

  “No, that certainly is news.” I eye the exits greedily.

  “And I’ll be the most powerful Great Scala in history. I’ll do whatever I want. Wait and see.”

  One thing I’ll say for Adair, she also inherited her father’s gift for ignoring facts. “Whether you’re the Scala Heir or not, you’re thrax and subject to our laws. That’s greater than you, me or even your father. Have your tutors reviewed the story of Lady Glenna?”

  “Who?”

  “She was a thrax Great Scala who broke our laws and ended up executed, per orders from the Arbiter.” That’s our immortal judge in Antrum. She outranks all of us, even royals.

  Adair sniffs. “You’ll see. Just wait for my awakening ceremony. If you’re my Angelbound love, then the igni will activate my Scala Heir powers. That’ll prove we need to get married. Isn’t that right?”