“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Zalaam shot back. “Why soul-search when you can search more practically? Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t know anything about that, since your djinn isn’t mature enough. Funny, I was mature enough by the time Levi was your age. I guess you were stunted somewhere along the line.”
“Getting forced into a cage every time you turn a tiny bit red will do that to you.” Raffe balled his hands into fists and stormed off to the far side of the infirmary. Santana followed, putting her hand on his shoulder, talking to him in a low voice I couldn’t quite make out.
“Have you found something?” I turned my attention back to Zalaam. After all, that’s why I was here. If he was toying with me, I’d be majorly pissed. I didn’t have time for this, not unless he had something useful to say.
Zalaam smiled. “Glad to see someone understands urgency. As a matter of fact, yes, I have found something. From the moment Raffe told me to inquire about Naima, that’s what I’ve been doing, using the hive mind to reach out to other djinn across the globe. Though, apparently, these ingrates thought I was sleeping on the job.” He glowered at Tatyana.
“Get to the point, Zalaam.” My tone was snappier than I’d intended.
“Rude.”
“Sorry, I’m just a little tense at the moment. You know, with Katherine about to ascend and everything, I’m not exactly high on patience,” I replied.
He folded his arms in a huff. “Well, if you must know, someone spotted Naima in Montana and followed her to a private lake house by Flathead Lake.”
“That’s a real place?” It sounded made-up. But if Naima really was there, then I guessed she’d used the Strainer to get to Montana from Eris Island. She’d chosen well—Montana was pretty rural, with nobody around to disturb whatever she was up to.
“Something to do with the Native Americans who used to reside there—the Salish. I imagine it’s supposed to be a cruel joke, but that’s by the by.” His mood softened slightly. “Nobody else lives at that location, from what the djinn in question told me. So, you have your location. And, according to that same djinn, she wasn’t alone.”
“Katherine’s there?” I blurted out.
He chuckled darkly. “No, the djinn smelled magic on a young magical, along with something akin to pure dread. The poor girl was terrified.”
“A girl?”
“Did I stutter?”
I rolled my eyes. “I was talking to myself.”
“You shouldn’t do that. It’s the first sign of madness.”
“Then does that make you insane? You speak to yourself all the time,” I shot back.
“You’re a sharp one, Harley. I enjoy you.” Zalaam grinned.
I ignored him. “If she’s got a young magical with her, then it must be one of the rare ones for Katherine’s last ritual.” I turned to Wade. “I just wish we knew how many she already had. That way, I’d be able to get a better gauge of how long we’ve got until she makes her move.”
He nodded. “But, on the upside, at least this is a valuable lead.”
“It’s the best one we’ve had in a while,” I agreed.
“I believe a ‘Thank you, mighty Zalaam’ is in order.” The djinn waited smugly.
“Thank you,” I replied. “It’s nice to see a djinn who doesn’t follow the stereotype.”
He scowled. “And what stereotype might that be?”
“That you’re all untrustworthy demons who are out for death and mayhem and destruction.” I glanced at Raffe. “Even the ones who seem calmer than most.”
“Such impudence. If I weren’t trapped in this useless body, I’d show you just what a djinn can do.”
I smiled. “Ah, but then you’d only be reinforcing said stereotype.”
He sat back. “You really are an interesting being, Harley. Very interesting indeed. Truly, you remind me of someone… though I can’t quite put my finger on who.”
I let him bask in his smugness for a bit longer as I retreated into my own thoughts. I had the Hidden Things spell to deal with tonight, but I couldn’t just ignore the importance of what Naima was doing in Montana. But it was almost four o’clock now, which meant I had eight hours until I needed to be back here to do the spell. Yeah, I can swing that. Right? I had the Aperi Si Ostium spell at my disposal; I could step right into that lake house without Naima sensing a thing.
“We’ve got to go after her, and we’ve got to do it now, before she has the chance to slip away again,” I stated.
Raffe and Santana came back over. “Do what?”
“We’re going after Naima,” I replied.
“But we should keep the intervention team small, or Naima will smell us a mile away,” Wade added. “Two at most.”
“How do you feel about a quick trip to Montana, then?” I smiled at him anxiously.
“Whoa, hold your horses there, mi hermosa.” Santana held her hands up. “You’re under enough strain as it is. Two of us can go instead.”
I shook my head. “You’re forgetting one small thing.”
“What?” She frowned.
“This is the sole reason I’ve been training to control the Purge beasts—so I can use what I’ve learned on Naima.”
“Oh… yeah, I forgot about that.” She smiled, but I could sense her hesitancy.
“Plus, it’ll take my mind off other things.” I smiled. “I’ve got the chalk-door spell. And I’m the one who can get what we need out of Naima.”
Zalaam snorted. “Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean?” I shot him a no-nonsense look.
“The lake house will almost definitely be warded against such spells. According to the djinn who surveyed it, that cabin is brimming with hexes and wards and charms,” he replied. “What, did you think you’d just be able to waltz in?”
One of these days, we’re going to get an easy task. It made sense that Naima would protect herself and whatever she was doing with that magical girl. Word of me stealing the Grimoire must’ve reached Katherine and Naima by now. Heck, mini-me had said as much when I’d last seen her in my weird, “could’ve been” nursery. Naturally, thanks to the freaking irritating mantra of “Chaos rules,” she hadn’t been able to tell me more, but she’d suggested Katherine knew that I had the book.
A shudder of fear ran through me. I hadn’t thought about mini-me’s warning much, but now it further opened a can of worms in my head—someone from my inner circle must’ve told Katherine that I had the Grimoire and about the magical detector. They had to have; otherwise, how would she know so much? But who?
Back in the day, my first suspect would’ve been Finch, but he’d proven himself already. He’d had the chance to do Katherine’s bidding and get Adley back, and he’d refused outright. Plus, he’d have handed my ass over to her on Eris Island, where I’d have had no chance of escaping. Since I was standing here instead, that let him off the hook, as far as I was concerned.
Then, who else? I looked to Wade. No, it couldn’t be him. Not him. Anyone but him. Then again, there might have been some residual effects on him from the pendant’s hex. But the pendant was destroyed. Surely, if that was gone, then any effects would be, too. No, it wasn’t Wade. And if it wasn’t him, then that left the rest of the Rag Team—my trusted, dearest friends. The very friends I loved and was giving everything to try and protect.
One of the people standing in this room might’ve been the snitch without even knowing it. They might be under Katherine’s influence and have no clue. The only other people it could be were Krieger, Alton, Levi, and Imogene, but they seemed less likely. Krieger would have jumped ship to work with Katherine way earlier if he had wanted to give her the detector. Levi had been out cold for days and hadn’t known about the magical detector being finished. Alton wouldn’t be helping me with the Hidden Things spell if he was in on it, since it was intended to finish Katherine off. And Imogene had tried to take Katherine on and gotten a nasty gash to the face in the process. Plus, she’d been with me when I’d loo
ked through the Grimoire, and she hadn’t tried to take it or destroy it. If she was working for Katherine, she’d have done both those things when she’d had the chance.
It might be one of you. I looked to my friends. This was precisely why I had to continue alone. I loved them all so much, but they were a threat to the success of my mission right now, likely without realizing it. If I let them in on what I was doing, there was the distinct probability of it getting back to Katherine, and then she’d soundly wreck all my plans in one fell swoop. And that’d crush them as much as it would crush me.
“So, we can’t use Aperi Si Ostium?” Wade asked.
Zalaam snorted again. “Not unless you want to end up as cat food.”
“Then how do we get in? Naima won’t hang around, and we need to nab her before she runs off back to Eris Island again to bring her mouse home to her owner.” We had to do this before midnight tonight, so we needed a quick option. But, without any Portal Openers, I couldn’t think of anything. Oh Isadora… I miss you. Not just because of what she could do, but because her death had torn me open inside, leaving a gap that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to fill.
“This time, I might get a ‘Thank you, mighty Zalaam’ out of you,” the djinn said, smiling.
“Go on,” I urged.
“I have something you might use—a portaling spell that only the djinn may use, a spell we’ve never shared with magicals. It is unlikely Naima will have warded against such a spell, given its rarity,” he explained, pleased as punch. “You can use it to get as close to the lake house as possible.”
“Okay, so what’s the spell?” I pressed.
“It involves an Arabic chant that you wouldn’t be able to manage, with your coarse American tongue,” he replied. “And a rare emerald. One for each journey. In this case, you’ll need two, unless you plan to stay in Montana.”
I held back my irritation. “Tell me these emeralds are easy to get, or I might blow a fuse.”
“They are known as Sahar Gems and are imbued with slivers of djinn Chaos. They are hidden in the most unexpected places, so the djinn can have them nearby whenever they are needed, for whatever reason. One must always have an escape plan, after all.” His expression darkened. “In days gone by, it was not uncommon for us to have our power drained by evil warlocks, who then chose to lock us away in lamps and sell us to people for laughable amounts of money. You would be horrified by the number of djinn who’ve ended up on the shelves of tourists, destined to be nothing but ornaments for drab mantelpieces.”
“Like a genie in a bottle?” Santana arched an eyebrow.
He scowled. “How disgusting.”
“That’s the myth, though, right?” Raffe backed her up.
“I suppose that is where the myth originates. A genie is a limited version of a djinn—a djinn with only a fraction of its power, enslaved by an evil warlock for profit,” Zalaam replied. “Sometimes, genies evade those warlocks through various tricks. One of which is to use these Sahar Gems to replenish their powers, or to simply portal away, as far from the warlocks as possible. But it all depends on whether or not they can find an emerald.”
“And where do we find one?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Museums are riddled with them.”
“Specifics, please!” My temper and my volume were flaring.
“I know of two precise places where you’ll find one, and you’d certainly have no trouble using your chalk-door spell to get to them,” he replied. “There is one in the Tower of London, set at the front of the Imperial Crown of India.”
I gaped at him. “You’re kidding, right? You want us to break into the Tower of London and steal an emerald from the Crown Jewels? I don’t think so, pal. What’s the other option?”
“There is the cluster of emeralds fitted on the pommel of the sword belonging to Tairrdelbach Ua Conchobair, who was the high king of Ireland in the early 1100s, if memory serves, which is currently on display in the Dublin Coven’s museum wing. He was also the magical king of Ireland, during those times.”
“I didn’t understand half of what you just said,” Santana replied.
“I thought you said these gems were nearby,” I added.
He shrugged. “They’ve dwindled in recent years, and you wanted to know specifics. I’ve given them to you. You can search other places if you like, but Naima may be gone by then.”
“Can we put the emeralds back?” I really hoped so.
He shook his head. “They will be destroyed once they’re used.”
“Looks like we’re going to Ireland first, then,” I muttered. I didn’t like the idea of ruining a perfectly good relic, but we could worry about the personal and financial complications later. At least it was in a coven, so we wouldn’t be inciting the wrath of any humans. Anyway, right now, that kind of fallout was literally the least of our problems.
Wade nodded. “Back to the homeland.”
“Right… I always forget you’ve got Irish in you. Or maybe I’ve just gotten used to that little twang to your accent. I don’t hear it so much anymore.”
“It usually only comes out stronger when I’m pissed off.” He smirked.
“Same here. I get super Mexican when I’m hangry.” Santana chuckled, but I could feel her nerves. She was just trying to lighten the mood, the way Finch would’ve done if he were here. Speaking of which, I was going to have to think of a way to lose Wade, Finch, and the rest of the crew once we got Katherine’s location from Naima. As soon as I got it, I needed to distance myself from the coven to pursue her on my own, hopefully with the Hidden Things spell in tow.
This is going to be a challenge. But when had that ever stopped me?
Twenty-Four
Harley
Using the Aperi Si Ostium spell, Wade and I stepped through to the Dublin Coven, appearing in a long, cavernous room with a curved roof.
It felt as though we’d stepped back in time, entering some grand, almost medieval world. Balconies lined the upper floor, giving an open view onto the varnished floor below, where stone busts stood sentinel. Inside the many mahogany recesses, ancient bookshelves lined the walls, the whole place a librarian’s dream. Only, there weren’t just books. Glass boxes featured artifacts from all over the world.
We just had to find the one belonging to… I wasn’t even going to try and say his name. I’d just call him the high king of Ireland.
Everything was lit up in the soft glow of lamplight, with a faint sliver of moonlight coming in through the windows. I wasn’t really a pro with time zones, but I could tell we’d hit Dublin in the dead of night. Which explained why there was nobody around.
“Do you see it?” I whispered, feeling like I ought to, even though the place was empty. It seemed a shame, given how beautiful it was.
“Why are you whispering?” he teased.
I laughed quietly. “I don’t know. I can’t stop.”
“You’re a funny one, Harley Merlin.”
“But that’s what you love about me, right?”
“Oh yes. More than anything.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. Anything more seemed wrong in a setting like this, as though somebody would pop out and scold us for such despicable behavior.
“You’re distracting me, Mr. Crowley.” I smiled up at him.
“Yeah, we should probably find this sword, huh?” He put his hand on the small of my back, ushering me down the cavernous hall. “We should check the upper floor first, if only to get our bearings. We’ll get a good view from up there.”
I nodded and followed him up a distant, slightly more modern staircase, until we found the corridors that led to the arched recesses. The windows looked out on the gray-stone streets of Dublin, illuminated by old-timey street lamps, giving the city a mystical, magical air that seemed impossibly romantic. Meanwhile, the faint shimmer of an interdimensional bubble rippled across the glass. I watched a few stray people walking past for a moment, some staggering, some laughing as they made their way home, and en
vied their obliviousness. They were just going about their business, with no idea that they were going to be enslaved by Katherine Shipton, if I couldn’t stop her first.
“You lived in Ireland for a little while, right?” I asked, as we walked along. This would’ve been so romantic, if it hadn’t been for the mission hanging over our heads.
“For a few years, when I was a kid. My mom sent me off to boarding school in Cork, actually.” He paused. “But the less said about that, the better.”
“You hated it?”
He grinned. “I hated it. The school was beautiful, and I love the country, but the teachers were insanely strict. I thought I’d be scarred from all the whippings.”
“When did you go to school, the 1800s?” I snorted, though it reminded me of my own scars. They marked my back in faint, silvery lines. Sometimes, I’d turn in the mirror after a shower and see them. They startled me every time. People had always teased me for wearing jackets constantly, but they didn’t realize I was terrified of them seeing those scars.
“Might as well have,” he replied.
“Were you a cheeky kid? I thought you’d be the rule-follower.”
He shook his head. “I think they just did it to make an example of me.”
“That’s horrible. How old were you?”
“I was there from ages seven to ten.”
“I’m so sorry.” I held on to his hand, entwining my fingers with his.
He shrugged. “No need to be. Everything turned back around when I came back to America, so it’s not all bad, and a school like that looks good on the résumé, even if I was only there for three years. I’m not trying to pull out the violins or anything. It was tough here, but it was character-building, and it taught me discipline, which has served me well.”
Wade stopped suddenly. We were about four archways down, and I didn’t instantly see what had caught his eye. I peered around his shoulder. There, in the center of the recess, stood a plinth with a glass box on top. Inside it, elegantly hung from a black iron rod, was a huge sword. The pommel glinted in the moonlight that glanced through the windows, though the emeralds were too old to sparkle. They’d been dulled by the years, turning an almost milky shade of green. Then again, these weren’t the shiny gems of the modern day; these were ancient jewels, rough cut, more or less the way they’d been dragged out of the ground. I guessed there’d been some alchemy at play when these emeralds had been made, because I could feel the subtle bristle of Chaos energy as I approached.
Harley Merlin 8: Harley Merlin and the Challenge of Chaos Page 21