by S. W. Clarke
“You’re gaining on it,” Loki said from his tight press against my neck. “I can see the creature up ahead, carrying the boy.”
I leaned closer to Noir’s neck, giving him less resistance. I had to be close enough on the creature’s flanks that I could strike it with fire without hitting the boy.
And, too, I had to time it right. In practice, Isaiah and I weren’t perfectly compatible. He always fired off his attack at about the same time as he yelled for me to go in, which led to mistiming.
But after a few tries, I’d gotten the hang of his ways. Isaiah always dive-bombed to within about twenty feet as he attacked. So all I had to do was keep an eye out for the swooping fae, and then I’d know to go in before he yelled for me.
Ahead, a car’s headlights washed over the street as it passed through the intersection. For a moment, the creature was illuminated—and then it leapt up onto the car’s hood and then onto the street on the far side.
Had the driver even noticed?
If so, they hadn’t swerved, hadn’t honked, hadn’t braked. I was reminded of Fi’s explanation: regular humans don’t see or hear the creatures. They might as well be wraiths.
Noir and I galloped through the intersection. If a car had been coming, one of the watchers would have warned me. The benefit of working with fae.
Now I could see the boy in grayscale, about a block ahead. His head bobbed, arms dangling as he lay over the creature’s shoulder.
“There he is.”
Loki snorted. “Your eyes are terrible.”
“I make up for it in other ways.” I gripped Noir’s mane tighter with my left hand, loosened my right hand. I would need the full use of it for my attack. “Help me time it, Loki.”
“You need to get about twenty feet closer.”
I pushed Noir as hard as he would go, until I sensed the stallion galloping at full tilt. This was as fast as we’d ever ridden, maybe even faster than in the first guardian trial.
He was like a goddamned bullet train.
My right hand came up, eyes flicking between Isaiah and the creature, now in full view. Fire sprang to life on my fingertips.
“Not yet,” Loki said.
I rode with one hand aflame, my whole body tense, eyes alternately on the sky and the earth. Isaiah hadn’t gone in for his attack yet.
When he did, Loki sensed it before me. His claws dug in. “Now.”
I rose half-upright as we came to an intersection, right arm curling back.
On my left, a careening scream echoed down the street. “Clem!” Fi cried.
I only had time to look left. When I did, one of the Shade’s creatures leapt from all fours, launching himself at me.
Bitter cold enveloped me, and then the sensation of falling. And finally—inevitably—the unforgiving, brutal asphalt rising to meet me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Something in my body broke when I hit the road. Under the adrenaline, I didn’t feel the pain—but I did feel a bone snap as I landed on my side. My cloak fell on top of me in a heap, obscuring my vision.
Beneath the shock, I heard noises. Noir’s hooves clattering down the road away from me. Loki hissing. Someone yelling my name.
But beyond everything, I felt the cold.
Cold like I’d experienced only once before in my life wrapped around my ankle, began pulling me across the hard asphalt. Cold clawed its way up my leg, sapping all my energy as it reached my core and seeped through my arms and head as fast as I could recognize it.
One of the creatures had me in its grip.
Loki’s hiss turned into a growl, and then a scream like only a cat could produce. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” His scream crescendoed, and the enveloping cold fell away. Loki had saved me. “Goddamnit, Clem. Fight.”
I’d begun to feel the pain now. It bloomed from my right shoulder, and my arm didn’t seem to be responding. Of course—I’d had to go and break my dominant arm.
As soon as the creature let go of me, my will came surging back.
I threw the cloak off, and the lamplit street came into view. I jerked up, spotted the thing in front of me: pure darkness, pressing away light. Just as they had looked that night they’d taken me.
It was like staring into a void. The depths of nothingness with the outline of a human being.
I also discovered that Loki had attached himself to the creature’s arm and was attempting to bleed him out with his back legs.
But I doubted these creatures even had blood. At least he’d gotten it to let go of me.
The creature reached again for my ankle, and I jerked away.
It wanted me.
Hooves barreled over asphalt, nearing us from the cross-street. A moment later, the road splintered in a straight line, knocking the creature off-balance as Siren—with Fi atop her—galloped by.
“Three more are behind me,” she yelled as she passed. “Two coming from behind you, Clementine.”
On my left, three of them bounded on all fours toward me. When I glanced over my shoulder, two ran upright.
They were all converging on me.
Where were the fae? I didn’t hear them, didn’t see them in the sky. Probably they were still on the chase.
There wasn’t time to worry about them. We were being ambushed.
My right hand made to lift, but something was so broken in there it couldn’t even rise. I shifted my weight to my left side, pushed up to a crouch.
The creature that had knocked me off Noir had dropped again to all fours, preparing to leap.
I didn’t have time to make plans. Didn’t have time to deliberate on the best direction to run.
I only had one option.
The Spitfire.
The last time I’d fought these monsters as the gates of Hell, the Spitfire had burned a dozen of them to ash. It was my only real chance.
But when I tried to summon the fire, it wouldn’t come. Only the cold—which began at my ankle and sent chills through my limbs—allowed itself to be known, as though it had doused my heat.
I crouched, frozen, in a new sort of shock. I’d never needed the Spitfire and not been able to access it.
Loki leapt to my side, back arched and tail bushy. “Light the fuckers up.”
“I…can’t.”
The fingers on my left hand twitched like a tweaker jonesing for a hit, and I couldn’t tell if I was shaking from the creature’s residual touch or my own adrenaline.
Maybe both.
And still they neared.
Siren’s hooves clattered behind me as a rumble started along the street. Just before the creatures reached me, the cement shot upward, forming sudden mountain peaks six feet high in a circle around me.
Fi’s magic.
Siren skirted the destruction, Fi yelling something before one of the creatures leapt onto the back of the mare, attached itself to her. She screamed as it threw her off. She disappeared behind the rubble as Siren went on galloping away.
I pushed myself to my feet with a yell. Maybe her name, or maybe just frustration; it was hard to say if words had come out.
One of the creatures leapt atop the rubble to my left, perched there as it spotted me. Another appeared to my right, landing six feet up like the outline of a gargoyle.
Out of sight, Fi groaned.
“Clementine!” Loki yelled.
I squeezed my eyes shut, fist clenching past the cold. My breathing came so hard my head felt light, dizzy. That old feeling had returned: pure, unadulterated fury.
But the Spitfire didn’t raise its head.
Still, my anger was enough to ignite. Fire sparked on my left fingertips, and when my eyes opened, a small, uncertain flame grew there. I flicked a spark of it to Loki; it landed on his back and spread across his body.
It wasn’t the full force of my fire, but it was something.
Six creatures watched me. They seemed to be coordinating, waiting for the moment to pounce.
With gritted teeth, I forced the fire to encompa
ss my left forearm. The right went on dangling uselessly. “What are you waiting for?” I yelled, throwing my good arm out.
A wave of flame swept through the air to my left, and the creatures on that side easily dodged it.
That seemed to be the trigger.
All at once, they came at me. And what was scarier than yells and war cries was the sound they did make. Which was nothing at all.
I punched flame at the two creatures on my left. The flames left my knuckles, shot through the air, and powered through a creature’s chest. I could see the street through the smoking hole I’d created in his sternum.
And yet the creature simply ignored it, kept running toward me.
This was why you needed two forms of magic.
The Spitfire had been enough at the gates of Hell, but I didn’t have the Spitfire right now. I only had what little fire I could summon, and it wasn’t enough.
I kept fighting, and so did Loki. I threw my arm long, sent an arc of flame around as Loki leapt at one on my right, landing on its arm and racing toward its neck to lodge his teeth in.
My flame cut through half the creatures, who seemed to slide around it and reform on the other side.
That was when two of them grabbed me. One took hold of my left arm at the wrist, and on my other side, a hand fell on my shoulder. I knew I would have felt pain if the cold didn’t numb me out.
I yelled as my will began to sap away. Maybe I said names—Fi, Liara, Elijah, Isaiah—or maybe I just made a guttural noise.
Where the hell were the fae?
Somewhere out of my view, a blade whistled through the air, and I spotted silver gleaming in the lamplight as a massive form dropped into the center of the rubble, metal armor rattling. But I’d lost all will; I couldn’t even shift my gaze to look to my left.
But I could still hear.
The blade whistled again as it cleaved through one of the creatures. I saw half of one of the monsters slide to the ground in a heap of blackness, dissipating into nothing as it died. More destruction as the armor shifted, metal clinking against metal as the blade did its work.
One by one, the creatures fell away.
Finally, a gloved hand slid around my waist, yanked me free of the last creature’s grasp and lifted me six feet to the rubble’s peak.
And with a final shove, I went tumbling down to the unbroken road. I came to a stop near Fi, who had blood smeared across her head and blinked at me as she touched at it while propped on her elbow.
As sensation and willpower returned, I pushed myself up, staring back at the rubble.
The blade’s edge rose once more, shining long and tall, before it cleaved down out of view. And finally, all went still.
Fi and I breathed hard, both watching in silence, as a figure climbed atop the asphalt and stood with sword in hand staring down at us.
I recognized that sword, as long as my own leg. I recognized that armor, a gleaming ebony.
“Who is that?” Fi whispered.
It was Lucian the prince.
I scrabbled backward, boots sliding over the street. “Fi,” I managed in a hoarse breath, “run.”
A black streak appeared in my periphery; Loki, leaping out of the rubble. He raced toward me. “We have to go.”
Before us, the demon prince remained where he was, his chest moving under his armor but nothing else. His sword gleamed in the shadows of the moths dancing under the nearby lamp.
He stared at us.
I found my feet, pushing myself upright with my good arm. I reached out for Fi, who took my hand.
Just before I pulled her up, the prince’s armor shifted as he lifted one hand. Ten other creatures had appeared around him, eager to come for me—
But they were stayed by the demon prince.
I helped Fi up, keeping an eye on him. I couldn’t see his eyes behind his helmet, or his mouth. Two metal horns curled from it, and I caught the faint outline of his lips. They parted to speak, but a horse’s whinny cut them off.
Behind us stood Noir, tail flicking and head jerking. He looked like he’d run for days; froth clung to his lips, his eyes wild with arousal and exertion.
So he’d come back for me after all.
I grabbed Fi’s hand, spun toward the horse. “Come on.”
Loki ran ahead, still aflame and leading the way toward my horse. When we reached his side, my familiar waited for me to mount Noir before he leapt onto the hem of my cloak and climbed up.
I reached down for Fi, who looked woozy. Blood trailed down her face and neck. “Get on.”
“Siren,” she murmured.
“No time.” When I glanced up, the prince had disappeared, as had the creatures with him. Which meant they could be anywhere. “We have to leave.”
She took my hand, and with a jump and my help, she managed to get up onto the horse behind me. Her hands went around my waist. “Where did they all go?”
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is this mission’s a botch.” I grabbed Noir’s mane with my working hand, swung him around. “We’re headed home.”
Lucian still stood there, staring, his sword touching the broken asphalt. He shrugged off one of his gloves, a human hand appearing. And in the moment before I looked away, two of his fingers folded.
Then we were off.
We started into a canter back toward the leyline. We hadn’t gone three blocks when a gray creature barreled through the cross-street ahead of us.
Siren.
I swerved Noir to follow her, and we caught up to her by the next block. She was a mare, and inclined to follow a stallion like my horse. It was easy enough for her to fall into line with him, and soon enough I was herding her in the right direction.
A minute later, wings sounded above me.
I glanced up. “Where the hell have you been?”
“I was chasing,” Liara shot back. “We weren’t able to get the boy before he was taken. Is Fi bleeding? And why isn’t she on Siren?”
I ignored her questions. “Where are Elijah and Isaiah? We need to get back.”
“I don’t know. I’ll shoot a flare.” As soon as she’d said it, she directed a bolt of her lightning into the sky.
Soon enough, the other two were with us. They both fell into a litany of questions, but I ignored them. I rode hard, eyes ahead.
We needed to get to safety before we talked. The game had changed entirely, and we were no longer the hunters. We were hunted.
Chapter Thirty
We made it safely back through the leyline. By the time we came out the other side and into the forest outside the academy, Fi was practically draped on my shoulder.
I rode us straight for the infirmary at a canter, Siren following behind.
Liara flew alongside me. “Your arm is broken, isn’t it?”
“Seems that way.”
She cursed. “What happened out there?”
The adrenaline had started to wear off, and pain was setting in. “I’ll tell you once I don’t feel like screaming.”
When we reached the infirmary, Elijah and Isaiah took the horses as Fi and I staggered inside.
Nurse Neverwink wasn’t on duty. Of course; it was just after four in the morning.
Liara went off to get her while Fi and I collapsed onto two of the beds. The pain in my arm had gotten to be excruciating, and I fell into a delirious haze for a time. It seemed like moments had passed before Neverwink’s anxious face appeared.
She set to work on me, cleaning me up and spoon-feeding me a strange-tasting liquid and resetting the bone in a way that made me grit through a yell. Fi must not have gotten it as bad, because I didn’t hear her at all.
At the end of the ordeal, Neverwink patted my arm. “You’ll be good as new by morning. A bit sore. Rest now.”
And, still hungover and injured, it didn’t take me more than a few seconds to do exactly that.
When I woke, it was daytime. I jerked upright, still in a strange residual fight-or-flight frenzy. Loki slid off my chest with a
grumble.
Fi was gone. The room was empty.
“How long have I been out?”
He stretched, his back arching. “Not long enough. I was at the height of REM sleep.”
I tested my right arm, found it exactly as Neverwink had promised: sore, but working perfectly. Thank god for magic, or else I wouldn’t have the use of any of my limbs anymore.
And somehow, a still-warm cup of tea and cookies sat on the small table next to me. I polished them off before Loki and I came into the waiting room, where Neverwink sat reading a fae romance.
She glanced at me overtop her book. “Better?”
“Much.” I showed off my range of motion with my right arm. “You might be my favorite person at the academy.”
She laughed, gestured me off. “They all say that once they’re well. Bring me treats and then I’ll consider whether you mean it.”
I snapped my fingers, and a plate of perfect, steaming fae rolls appeared on the table before her.
Her eyebrows rose, and we exchanged a small, secret smile.
“There’s more where those came from.” I came over and set a hand on her shoulder. “And you know I’ll be back soon enough, anyway.”
“Don’t I, though.” She shook her head as she plucked off one of the rolls, went back to reading.
When we left the infirmary, I glanced down at Loki. “I’m going to see the other guardians. You can head home if you want.”
He remained tight by my side. “As much as I’d prefer darkness and quiet over all your whiny voices, I’m a guardian as much as you are.”
He was right; the two of us went straight to where I knew the other guardians would be.
We came into the common room, and I found Mishka sitting in an overstuffed armchair before the fireplace. She had another plate of conjured balaclava next to her and a big book in her lap. As soon as she saw me, she closed it up with a clap. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
We started up the stairs together. “How long was I out?”
“A good twelve hours.”
I winced. I didn’t like being out that long.