Tempestuous

by Lesley Livingston

“Out.”

  “Yeah. I can see that.”

  Sonny paused with his hand on the doorknob. “That’s all you get, Madd. Sorry.”

  Maddox’s face flushed with frustration. “Seven hells!” he barked. “You’d think I’d become some kind of horrible gossipmonger with the way no one will tell me what’s going on these days!”

  “It’s better for you if you don’t know,” Sonny said. “That’s all. Safer.”

  As he closed the door behind him, Sonny thought he might have heard Maddox say, “Funny . . . that’s exactly what Kelley said.”

  Sonny walked to the north end of the Columbus Circle station platform and waited until the next train pulled into the station. Passengers disembarked, hurrying up stairs and escalators, and everyone who’d been waiting trackside stepped onto the train. Everyone except Sonny. He wouldn’t be using the train to reach his destination. In the brief moment that the platform was deserted, he swung himself around the safety gate barring access to a utility ladder and climbed down into the tunnel. Under normal circumstances, Sonny would have used the magicks gifted to him by Auberon to cast a concealing veil over himself. But with the loss of his iron Janus medallion, that wasn’t an option available to him. He would have to rely on plain old human stealth.

  With a glance over his shoulder to make sure that he had indeed remained unobserved, Sonny took off at a jog, trailing the fingers of one hand along the wall so that he would be able to tell when he got to the maintenance alcove that hid the tunnel entrance to the underground Lost sanctuary.

  He was almost there when he heard voices. Human voices.

  Sonny paused for a brief second, listening to be sure. He wondered if someone was following him—if maybe the security cameras had captured his forbidden entry into the tunnel and they had sent someone to investigate. Or perhaps it was just a transit worker. . . .

  A tingling along his spine told him to beware, to be careful. He quickened his pace and concentrated on finding the hidden tunnel. He stopped just inside the mouth of the tunnel to the reservoir, masked from sight by the Faerie glamour that camouflaged the opening, and listened. Nothing. There was no sound now. Sonny turned back to the wall. He put up a hand and spoke the password Carys had given him. The rough-hewn wall went transparent, and Sonny stepped through into the obsidian tunnel. The glamour shifted back into place once he was through, and Sonny started down toward the reservoir.

  “What’s this place then?” Maddox’s voice came from right beside him.

  Sonny almost jumped out of his skin.

  The air seemed to shiver slightly in the gloom, and Madd’s big lanky frame appeared, leaning on the tunnel wall. “You never remember to veil yourself properly,” he said, shaking his head.

  “And you delight in trying to give me heart failure,” Sonny snapped angrily. He was just as irritated with himself as he was with Maddox. It seemed that he had gotten used to relying on Auberon’s gifted magicks too heavily—instead of depending on his own abilities and instincts.

  “So?” Maddox waved a hand at their surroundings.

  “I don’t know why you followed me. You shouldn’t be here, Madd.”

  Maddox pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on and looked Sonny in the eye. “If I shouldn’t be here, then I think it’s a pretty safe bet to say that you shouldn’t be either.”

  Sonny sighed in exasperation. Even having Maddox follow him through the veil and into the tunnel to the reservoir was a violation of the safe passage Carys had granted him. They both might be in a lot of trouble. Sonny felt the hint of a breeze coming from up ahead—like the breath of wind that preceded a subway train pulling into a station—and amended that thought. There was no might about it.

  “Do you have a weapon on you?” he asked quietly.

  Maddox blinked. “What? Yeah, of course I do. I don’t go anywhere unequipped. And neither should y—”

  “Whatever you do,” Sonny said grimly, “don’t draw it. And don’t fight.”

  “Aw, seven hells, Sonn,” Maddox muttered, but held his hands up and away from his sides.

  Sonny did the same, bracing for the impact he knew was coming. The light from the torches danced wildly, then guttered and snuffed out as the wraiths came screaming down the tunnel. A gale-force wind slammed into the two Janus. In the confines of the tunnel, it felt like being caught in an avalanche. The wind spun viciously around like a tornado behind them, scooped them up, and hurled them forward in the direction whence it had come. Sonny and Maddox found themselves caught in a howling maelstrom that swept along the glittering black tunnel at breakneck speed.

  Sonny had been warned by Carys of the “security system” in place to guard the reservoir against hostile intruders—and how not to get instantly maimed, should he accidentally activate it. But even armed with that foreknowledge, it took a great deal of effort not to struggle against the force of the wind wraiths. To do so would have meant being clawed at and pummeled against the jagged facets of the tunnel walls, and so Sonny just ducked his head and pulled his arms and legs in tight, hoping Maddox had done the same. He could hear nothing over the roaring.

  Sonny could feel the grasping talons of the wraiths skittering and brushing along his body, but they did him no injury. After a few brief, terrifying moments, the wraith wind spat the two Janus Guards out onto the rock shelf at the mouth of the reservoir’s underground grotto . . . where they were surrounded by an unsmiling, heavily armed welcoming committee.

  Sonny pushed himself to his hands and knees and glanced over at a sprawling Maddox, who was oozing blood from three long parallel gashes down one forearm.

  “I told you not to go for a weapon.”

  “I didn’t!” Maddox protested.

  Sonny looked pointedly at Maddox’s bloody arm.

  “Well . . . I might have thought about it. Maybe twitched a bit in that direction . . .”

  The creak of several yew-wood longbows made Sonny spring to his feet and take a step in front of his friend.

  From where she stood halfway up the stone steps, behind the menacing circle of Faerie, he heard Carys laugh bitterly. “It’s as if you think we’d have a problem shooting you to get to your friend.”

  “This is not what it seems, Carys.”

  “And what is that, Janus?” She was back to spitting out the title like it was a foul taste in her mouth. “A betrayal? For that is what it looks like. I—we,” she corrected herself, “trusted you. And now you have violated our secret and put us in harm’s way.”

  “Uh . . . he didn’t, actually,” Maddox said, getting very slowly to his feet with his hands in the air, palms facing out. “Not on purpose. He was just a bit stupid, really, and—”

  “Thank you, Madd.” Sonny stopped him before he could dig either of them into a deeper pit. “Thanks. I don’t think I need that kind of help.”

  “Well, it’s true.” Maddox looked over at him and shrugged. “I mean, if this lot is going to blame one of us for me being able to infiltrate their little play fort, they might as well blame the clever one.”

  Sonny sighed and gazed upward, expecting to be struck by a barrage of arrows any second.

  “And as for ‘harm’”—Maddox turned back to address the gathered Fae—“I don’t mean any such thing! I was simply curious as to where my mate Sonny’s been hiding out over the last few days. So I followed him. And I happen to cast a wicked good veil, so he never even knew it.” Maddox must have figured that as long as he kept talking, the angry-looking huntress wouldn’t be able to issue an order to have them killed. “Also—uh—nice place you got here. Very . . . grottoish and all—”

  The arrow missed his earlobe by less than a hair’s breadth. Maddox’s jaw snapped shut and he fell silent.

  “Lady . . .” Sonny put his hands down and took another step forward, ignoring the stares of the Fae who trained their weapons on him. “Carys. You should know by now that I would not willingly bring danger down upon you. Or your folk. Maddox is my friend and I will vouc
hsafe my life for his. I will also get him the hell out of here this very instant if you will allow it. But,” he continued, his voice taking on a subtle but distinct edge, “I’m not going to stand here any longer under the threat of being made into a pincushion.”

  Carys seemed unmoved . . . until a swaying, willow-thin figure moved through the circle of warriors toward the two Janus.

  “I stand as further surety for this one,” Chloe the Siren said in a quiet voice, stopping in front of Maddox. “He has been kind to me.” She put a hand on his chest and Maddox blushed crimson. Chloe seemed not to notice as her gaze slid away to fix on Sonny’s face. Her golden eyes went dark for a moment. “And for this one.” She turned to Carys. “He is . . . worthy of our respect, Carys. I think you already know that.”

  Carys slowly lowered her bow. Following her lead, so did the rest of her warriors, and the tension in the air of the cave began to dissipate. Carys came toward Sonny and held out her arm, which he grasped at the wrist in greeting.

  “I . . . apologize for the harsh welcome.” Carys turned to Maddox and said, in a tone sharp with sarcasm, “But you cannot entirely blame us for lacking in wide-eyed trust where you and your brethren are concerned. Especially lately.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Maddox said, shifting uncomfortably, his gaze following in Chloe’s wake as she drifted back toward the spring pools at the far end of the cavern.

  Carys didn’t press the point, but her gaze remained steely. “Have you come back to settle the tie, then?” she asked Sonny, her expression softening somewhat. She gestured the two Janus down toward the cavern floor, where another of Neerya’s glamoured repasts was spread out and a half dozen or so dryads danced in a circle with intricate, weaving steps.

  “What tie?” Maddox asked.

  “Nothing.” Sonny tried to dismiss the matter with a wave of his hand—he didn’t want Maddox to think he’d been wasting his time playing at games—but Carys was staring right at him. He didn’t want to insult her. “Only a bit of hurling,” he said. “That’s all.”

  “Ha!” Maddox barked a laugh, turning to the huntress Fae. “You haven’t been going up against him, have you? He’ll kick your lovely Faerie backsides all over the pitch, sweetheart! He’s bloody legendary.”

  “Indeed, he has already earned a measure of respect here among us.” Carys looked at Maddox sideways, her head tilted. “Not an easy task—for a Janus.”

  Maddox’s grin grew slightly brittle under her scrutiny.

  There was a gleam in the Faerie huntress’s eyes as—with a delicate politeness, like the spider inviting the fly in for tea—she asked, “Would you care to try your skills against my folk, Guardsman?”

  “Too right, I would,” Maddox answered.

  Sonny could only shake his head as Carys led them over to the greensward, calling all her folk to come play as she did.

  * * *

  “Right . . .” Maddox bent over, hands on knees, and sucked in great, gasping lungfuls of air. “Been a while . . . bit rusty . . . damn. . . .”

  “Told you they were good.” Sonny slapped his friend on the back, provoking a fit of coughing.

  “The goal minder’s cheating,” Maddox wheezed. “There’s two of ’em.”

  “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the little one. Her name’s Neerya. She’s the one who brought me down here when I . . . uh . . .” Sonny frowned. He’d rather not remember what had prompted him to go down into the subway on the day Neerya had found him. “She’s the one who first showed me this place.” He led Maddox over to where the naiad flitted among her spoils. She had been delighted with the goodies Sonny had brought her from his pantry. The tiny Faerie girl grinned widely at Sonny as they approached and tossed him a dented soda can. But when she saw Maddox ascending the stone steps behind him, she seemed to shrink back, hiding behind the curtain of her fine, dark hair.

  Sonny thought she was just being shy and he handed the soda to Maddox, saying, “It’s all right, Bug. This is a friend of mine. I know he’s big and ugly, but he’s harmless.”

  Maddox grinned and punched Sonny in the arm before slugging back the entire contents of the can in one long swallow. “You only wish you had my looks, laddie,” he said, wiping his mouth. He crushed the aluminum can and tossed it casually through the air at the naiad. She caught it reflexively and her hair swung back over her shoulder. Maddox did a double take.

  “Do I . . . know you?” Maddox tilted his head and stared down at Neerya, a shadow of a frown darkening his brow.

  The naiad twisted her long fingers around the crushed aluminum, and the iridescent wings at her back rustled nervously. “You’re one of mine,” she murmured.

  Sonny watched, astonished, as the blood drained from Maddox’s face. He took a step back. “You. You were the girl in the reeds.”

  Neerya nodded.

  “I followed you. Into the Otherworld. You led me there. You’re the reason I’m a changeling.” He turned away and clenched his big hands into fists, a look of almost murderous intensity on his face. “I should kill you where you stand.”

  Sonny looked back and forth between his friend and the Fae, tense and ready to step between them should Madd do something unwise. Large, luminous tears welled in Neerya’s eyes, and she nodded again.

  “It’s not her fault,” Carys said quietly from behind them.

  Maddox rounded on her, his fists coming up instinctively, primed to let loose. Carys held her ground.

  “She used to steal bairns for Titania until it all became too much for her,” Carys said. “I think you were the one that finally did her in.”

  “What are you talking about?” Maddox snapped.

  “I mean you’re the reason she’s here now, in exile.” Carys turned to Neerya, who stared at her feet, miserable. “Isn’t that right, Bug?”

  Neerya nodded once more.

  Carys looked back at Maddox. “After the way Titania treated you, Neerya decided she couldn’t take it anymore. She fled the Summer Lands rather than have to bring the queen one more pet to be tossed away when her ladyship grew bored.”

  “But why?” Maddox turned on the naiad, fists still tightly clenched. “Why did the queen send you to take me in the first place? She never even gave me a second glance once I arrived at the Summer Court. What did Titania want with me?”

  “She didn’t want you.” Neerya’s words bubbled out around a sob stuck in her throat. “I did. It’s my fault she didn’t like you. She wanted someone pretty, not plain. I was selfish. But I didn’t think you were plain at all! When you saw me and you smiled at me . . . I just wanted you to come and play.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” Maddox said. When he turned back to Sonny, his expression was shuttered. Unreadable. “You people. You have no concept of consequences, do you? It’s all a game to you. Everything is just a game.”

  “Life is a game, Janus,” Carys said quietly.

  “Yeah? Well, I’m taking my ball and going home.” He turned to Sonny. “I’m getting out of this place.”

  “Madd—” Sonny put out a hand.

  “You coming or not?”

  He glanced at Carys, whose expression remained closed to him in that moment. He tried to catch Neerya’s eye, but the tiny Faerie wouldn’t look at him. If he let Maddox leave without him, Sonny knew that he would be sacrificing a friendship. For the sake of Faerie. When all the Fae had ever done was to heap grief upon him.

  “Yeah . . . ,” he said, finally. “Yeah. I’ll come with you, Maddox.”

  The two young men remained silent as they walked down the tunnel, an unspoken tension hanging in the air between them.

  “Nice friends you’ve got,” Maddox muttered eventually, as if the silence was just too much for him.

  “Look, Madd—”

  A noise echoed from down the tunnel, and both Janus turned sharply.

  “Speaking of friends,” Sonny said warily, “we’ve got company.”

&
nbsp; Chapter X

  Sitting on the Delacorte amphitheater’s circular stage, Kelley felt the familiar rush of first-read-through excitement as she listened, following along in her script.

  ACT I

  SCENE I.

  A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.

  Enter [severally] a Shipmaster and a Boatswain

  MASTER: Boatswain!

  BOATSWAIN: Here, Master. What cheer?

  MASTER: Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to’t yarely, or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!

  Kelley didn’t have any lines in the opening scene, but Q had already described how he would stage it: with storm sounds and lighting effects and the actors playing sailors throwing themselves violently around the stage as though on the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and Kelley, as Ariel, dressed in full fantastical regalia, directing the storm. . . . As the actors read their lines, she could see the entire scene taking shape in her head and imagined herself perched up high in the rigging, lit dramatically. It would be so cool.

  And then . . . a fat raindrop hit the middle of her script page with a juicy splat like a bug on a windshield.

  Oh no, she thought, glancing at the water droplet that magnified the word Fate in one of Gonzalo’s lines.

  Within moments, the afternoon spring sky was blotted out by a bank of massive thunderheads. Rain sheeted down, lightning flashed, and thunder rolled on its heels without so much as a one-Mississippi pause. The center of the maelstrom gathered and seemed to settle right above their heads.

  “An omen!” shouted Quentin, his face melting into an expression of wonder.

  “Aw, crap!” the eternally put-upon Mindi yelled over the roar. “Everyone into the shelter! Go! Let’s see if we can wait this one out!”

  “It’s glorious!” Quentin howled deliriously, spinning in a circle, arms outspread—his black turtleneck, heavy with rain, stretching away from him like Peter Pan’s runaway shadow.

  For a brief, panicked moment, Kelley thought they were in danger of him stripping naked and running in ecstatic circles in the downpour.