The Hallowed Knight

by Jenn Stark

  “It seems we’ve reached some agreement, no matter how discordant,” Armaeus said. “We need to determine if this new player, Conal McCarthy, is an incarnation of Temperance and handle him accordingly. If he is, we should consider recalling him to the Council.”

  “Depending on which incarnation he is.” the High Priestess said. “If he’s the one from the 1500s, you can keep him. All that idiot wanted to do was try to figure out how to turn lead into gold. Which made him a hit with all the ingrates of society, but relatively useless in terms of Council business, as you no doubt recall. The one we pried away from Queen Victoria wasn’t much use either.”

  I perked up at this. The Justice immediately previous to me had served around that time period, and I remained desperate to learn every detail I could about Justice Abigail Strand. Talking to one of her contemporaries would make tracking down this rogue Temperance worth it all on its own. “When was the last incarnation of Temperance on the Council?” I asked.

  “Nineteen eighteen.” It was Death who spoke, but her face was drawn. “He didn’t survive the transition, though.”

  “That wasn’t our fault,” Eshe snapped, her tone defensive. “He was already sick.”

  Beside me, Gamon stiffened ever so slightly. She and I were the newest Arcana Council members, and while Armaeus had mentioned that our transition wasn’t an assured thing, that we might have more trouble ascending than we expected, neither of us had. I’d assumed his concerns had been merely a hand-waved, obligatory warning.

  “It was our fault insofar as we did not properly understand the nature of his illness,” the Magician said, not meeting my eyes. “I can heal what I understand. What I don’t understand, I must study. That study doesn’t take very long, but it does take time. Time that Temperance Danny Wilson did not have. He came to us too late in the cycle. His extraordinary psychic abilities shielded us from learning about the attack on his body until well after the disease had taken root. At that point, given the unique nature of anyone suited to the role of Temperance, he had already transitioned to the other side.”

  “Ahh…unique nature?” I asked. Sometimes sitting on the Council was like discovering a game in your grandmother’s basement. You sort of intuitively knew how to play, but you still were missing most of the rules.

  “Different positions require different sacrifices. Temperance is the alchemist. Constantly in motion, constantly blending, constantly changing. He was already in the wind before his body knew there was a breeze blowing.” Eshe glanced to Armaeus. “Do you think he has reincarnated? Truly?”

  “It’s possible,” Armaeus said.

  “Wait—how?” I frowned. “I didn’t think you people could regenerate.”

  The Magician shook his head. “In this case, regeneration isn’t necessary. Consider it more that the young man stepped across the veil where it was thinnest, into a space between worlds, where doors may open and close without warning, joining the living and the dead. The In Between. You’ve traveled it yourself, after a fashion.”

  “I’ve crossed the veil,” I countered. “But not in Ireland. I’m getting the idea that it’s a bigger deal there.”

  Armaeus quirked a smile. “It would seem you’re correct. Before he was lost to us forever, Temperance Wilson was last seen in Dublin. He was Irish, poor, and working class, but his family was spread out across the countryside. Ireland in the 1900s was not an easy place to be. He had a hardscrabble life. If he transitioned into the space between and did not truly die…”

  “He died,” Death interjected starkly. “His soul was shown the way. What he chose to do with that information was up to him, I suppose. If he chose a different path…it’s possible he could still return. I was there for his passage, but he was so young, his light still so bright.”

  Had Death personally escorted him? After chatting with Jimmy, I had to wonder who would make the trek with any Council member, just to be sure they went where they were supposed to go.

  “No.” Death tightened her jaw, rejecting her own words. “No. I don’t believe that young man has returned as this zealot. Danny Wilson had no love for the old wives’ tales of his family. He wanted to move his country forward, not backward. He doesn’t feel at all right for the Green Knight.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you, but we need to make certain,” Armaeus said.

  The other members of the Council remained silent. Even those who’d been alive in the early 1900s—everyone except the Fool, Gamon, and myself, actually—weren’t offering more commentary on this topic. It was clear that the passing of this young Temperance Wilson had affected them on a deeper level than usual, maybe because he’d died in transition. Nothing like a little unexpected death to dampen your bid on immortality.

  “And, ah—the other guy you mentioned?” I put in, trying not to sound too hopeful. “The one from the Victorian era? Could it be him?” I wasn’t at all sure how I felt about elevating a man to the Council who had quite possibly put Nikki into a coma. But I was more than happy to be the one who got to him first. What happened after that…was impossible to predict.

  “Temperance Bartholomew Simms,” Armaeus said. He glanced at Death, but she only shrugged.

  “I wasn’t nearby when he passed. I don’t know.”

  She appeared unwilling to say anything more, which seemed odd, but Armaeus continued. “And if this Conal McCarthy is not Temperance of a previous incarnation, we need to consider making him part of the Council on his own merits. To contain him, yes, but also to use him.”

  “Oh, like you’ve done a splendid job using the rest of us to our fullest potential,” Viktor sneered.

  The Magician flicked him the briefest glance, but I caught the amusement in his eyes. “Your role within the Council is very much appreciated. Please always know that,” Armaeus said blandly. Viktor scowled at the Magician with a hint of mistrust, which made me unaccountably happy.

  “So what’s the plan?” Simon piped up from the far corner of the table, where he’d taken a seat. He slouched and swiveled his chair back and forth. “I gotta lot of surveillance in play right now, and I should probably get back to it.”

  My brows went up. What was the surveillance he was working on?

  Apparently, it wasn’t high on the Magician’s priority list—or at least not as high as the current crisis. “Actually, I need you to go with Miss Wilde,” Armaeus said, his voice completely neutral even as his gaze finally met mine. “If Temperance is reincarnated, there are precious few members of the Council he will not recognize. Namely, Viktor, Gamon, Miss Wilde, and you, Simon. I think you can understand why we might not want his reintroduction to the Council to be handled by Judgment or the Emperor.

  Gamon smirked. “I guarantee he’d come back if you sent me for him.”

  Armaeus slanted her a look. “Unfortunately, his mind may already be in a fragile place.”

  Her smile deepened. “Then I’m probably not your best choice, no.”

  Simon, however, was leaning forward. “Really? You want me to go to Ireland?” He broke off abruptly, realizing how eager he sounded. “Well, ah, sure. I guess. But I’ve got some things to get cleaned up in a hurry, then.”

  “You have until ten a.m., tomorrow,” the Magician said. He gestured lazily with one hand, and a door appeared in the far wall of the conference room. Without asking anything further, Simon spun off his chair and strode away, his entire manner galvanized into action.

  When the door closed behind him, dissolving back into a wall, Armaeus fixed his gaze on the rest of the Council. “You know the danger here,” he said. “We must be careful.”

  “You will not sacrifice Simon to your need for power,” Death said, her voice stony.

  I blinked. Wait, what?

  “I have no intention of sacrificing him,” Armaeus countered. “He has Miss Wilde to ensure that.”

  The Emperor huffed. “Who doesn’t even know what she’s—”

  If it had been anyo
ne else in the room, I would have accepted the slam about to come out of Viktor Dal’s mouth with equanimity. I knew very well that I had much to learn as Justice, and even more to learn about the unique nature of my abilities.

  Still, the Emperor and I weren’t friends on the best of days, and this had decidedly not been a great twenty-four hours. I lifted a hand, magic erupting in licks of fire around my fingers, and the Emperor froze.

  Like, actually froze in place. Didn’t know I could do that to a Council member. Or anyone.

  Didn’t so much mind being surprised, this time.

  “Miss Wilde.”

  “What is it you need me to do, specifically? And why is Simon at risk?” I asked, ignoring Armaeus’s silent reprimand as the other Council members straightened carefully in their seats. An act of aggression against one of our own was probably not a typical agenda item for Council staff meetings, but I didn’t have it in me to care about that. I could hear Gamon chuckling beneath her breath, while I kept my focus on Armaeus. “Now that I can hear you clearly.”

  His lips didn’t so much as twitch. “The space between worlds is unmapped territory, blocked to most members of the Council by powers set in place in ancient times, by means and agency we don’t understand. I have searched endlessly for information on the restrictions to the In Between, to no avail. We know only for sure that Justice, Temperance, the Fool, and Death may walk its byways.”

  “You’re not getting me in there again,” Death said flatly. “Full stop.”

  Armaeus nodded. “Agreed.”

  “Um—why not?” I asked, swinging my gaze between them both. “What’s in there that you’re afraid of?”

  “It’s not fear that stays Death’s hand,” Armaeus said, while Death remained silent. “It’s restraint. She could do great damage to the remaining passages, and not all who tread them deserve such treatment.”

  “They shouldn’t be open to mortals at all,” Death huffed. “Stupid druids.”

  I blinked, knowing what I now did about Death’s past, but Armaeus continued. “However, we aren’t completely without understanding of the byways of the In Between. One entrance to the space between worlds is contained in the Trinity College library, and information on how to travel therein is inscribed in a book that has been largely overlooked in favor of its more famous brother, the Book of Kells. Both volumes, however, are important to your search.”

  “What sort of information are we talking about here?” I pressed. “Like a map?”

  The Magician’s lips tightened. “Regrettably, I don’t know. The chamber where it is housed is also forbidden to me, and has been since the founding of Trinity College in the late 1500s. I know only that you’ll understand the message you are supposed to receive when you see it. The information it presents will not be easy to decipher, but that’s where Simon’s presence will be beneficial as well.”

  I nodded. Simon had a gift for interpreting maps and for making his way through games. Beyond Temperance not being familiar with him, I suspected the Magician had multiple reasons for including the Fool in this journey. Multiple reasons, and one big warning sign.

  “Why is Simon at risk, though?”

  “Because he’s the Fool,” Death snapped. “As always, that’s reason enough.”

  Armaeus sighed. “Temperance isn’t the only Council member who entered the spaces between the worlds and didn’t come back. For whatever reason, the In Between proves to be an insatiable lure to certain personalities.”

  “Fools rush in.” To my surprise, it was Gamon who murmured the line from the Pope poem, but I was already moving on.

  “Who else is going with, then?” I asked. “I want Nikki with me.”

  Armaeus’s gaze met mine. “She’s not ready yet.”

  “Then make her ready.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not quite that simple, Miss Wilde. You had multiple layers of magic to protect you against the spell that was cast at you both. She did not. We don’t have the complete—”

  “What?” I cut him off, stiffening in surprise. “You still don’t know what’s wrong with her? That makes it like this Temperance Danny Wilson guy all over again. She’s been hit with something you haven’t seen before, and you can’t cure her outright.” Even saying it made my heart hammer, my lungs constrict. “How is that possible? How can you not cure her outright? Why can’t I go back in and try?”

  “No.” This time, Armaeus’s urgency was echoed by Death, Kreios, and even Eshe.

  I looked slowly around the room. “What’s going on that I’m missing? Because I’m clearly missing something.”

  “Only this,” Armaeus said, lifting a hand. “We don’t know what is afflicting Nikki, only that she’s afflicted—but she is stable. Meanwhile, we cannot risk you getting further damaged. We have a threat you are uniquely qualified to address that is urgent. After his successful attempt with the Fomorians, all indications are that Conal McCarthy will summon the Tuatha dé Danann on Beltane. That’s now only forty-eight hours away. We must be in place to combat him by then.”

  “Or we could blow him out of existence right now,” Gamon said, saving me the trouble.

  To my surprise, it was Death who replied. “Sadly, no, we can’t. Conal—whether he’s Temperance reborn or simply an opportunistic Connected—is only a key that unlocked a door. The door remains, and more keys will be fashioned now that the ancient gods know that a pathway exists through the In Between. Killing him would serve no purpose if we don’t close off those passageways for good.”

  “Fine. I’ll do—whatever it is you think I’m supposed to do. But you had better take care of Nikki,” I said, pointing at the Magician. “I mean it.”

  Armaeus grimaced. “I assure you, she’s our highest priority.”

  “She’d better be,” I breathed, and a wave of energy skittered through the room, a mix of panic and unfixed anger. I barely whispered my next word. “Please.”

  The Magician met my gaze. “She will be made whole, Miss Wilde. I swear it.”

  I drew in a shaky breath and nodded, and the room seemed to release a collective breath.

  “Though I won’t go with you into the mists, I’ll be in Ireland too,” Death said before Armaeus could speak again. She looked at me. “I pray you won’t need me, but I’ll be there if you do.”

  I expected Armaeus to object, but instead, he merely looked at Death with concern. “That isn’t necessary.”

  “Temperance Wilson won’t object to me being there, if it’s truly him calling the ancients to life—which, again, I don’t think it is. Still, I was the last grace in his life, and he recognized that. More to the point, I need to see this Green Knight. If he’s truly planning to summon the Tuath Dé, it is my place to stand with Justice and oppose them. And if he’s not—if this is all a pretty fairy tale to impress his followers—it is my place to stand with Justice and beat the crap out of him.”

  After Nikki, Death was seriously my favorite person ever.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Death left the Council meeting then, and the others followed swiftly behind. Within ten minutes, everyone was gone except for the Magician, the Devil, and me. We stood staring at each other from opposite ends of the table, the tension in Armaeus’s lofty conference room thick enough to cut.

  “Come on, you guys,” I protested, fire trickling once more around my fingers. “Something is still going on here that I don’t understand. What aren’t you telling me?”

  Armaeus blew out a long sigh. “You’re correct, but it is…a delicate matter. Death has been a member of the Council since before the time of Christ. Only the Archangel has been here longer. Which means only the Archangel can truly understand what she experienced in the time leading up to her ascension to the Council.”

  I looked around, but there was a decided lack of Casper the not so friendly Archangel going on. “Then why isn’t he here?”

  The energy in the room snapped again, and a new voice
sounded.

  “Because Death is also not an idiot,” Michael said, slowly fading into view. “If she knew I was hanging around for a sidebar after the meeting, she would never have left. And she has much to prepare herself for.”

  “Fair enough.” I narrowed my eyes on Michael. While I’d actually gotten a kick out of the Archangel when he’d first rejoined the Council after an extensive sojourn in Hell, he’d definitely worn my patience thin since then. For the record, his return hadn’t aged well on him either. Gone was the almost boyish joy he’d first expressed upon stepping foot back among the children of God, as he called them. Now his hands were full with a demon infestation that had occurred during the last attempt by the gods to return to Earth. I didn’t approve of everything Michael was doing to handle that attack of the horde, but I had no say in how he managed his affairs.

  If he was going to put his nose into my affairs, however, that was another thing entirely.

  He continued before I could prod him. “When Death ascended to the Council, she was also on the verge of death after a long and arduous battle.”

  “With these same gods,” I hazarded a guess. It was the only thing that made sense. “The Tuath Dé. They defeated the Fomorians, then she helped defeat them.”

  He nodded. “While she was successful in turning them back, she was very damaged by the experience, and the conflict had rendered her into a near god to those who harbored her injured body. She was forced to rely completely on the humans who gathered around her, who nursed her back to health despite their fear of her. She survived in large part because of those mortals, and that’s part of the reason why her compassion for the human race runs so deep. She does not ascribe to the beliefs of the Father or to any modern faith, but she has a deep and abiding respect for human grace. So her anger here is twofold. She absolutely refuses to see a recursion of the gods against whom she personally sacrificed so much to keep out of the world. Beyond that, she has limited patience for any individual who would lead others astray by convincing them he’s a god on this earth. To her, the man who styles himself as the Green Knight is doing just that. He’s leading mortals and their inestimable ability to trust that which they don’t understand, down a path of danger and deception, and she cannot abide that.”