“Ah, so that’s why you broke into the EMP.” He chuckled. “Actually, I hadn’t even considered Katie. I blocked your memory for fear you would summon your mother’s true spirit.”
“You’re kidding me.” What had Father said when I begged him to tell me who attacked Felicity? Go ask your mother. She knows everything about everything …
I felt like an idiot.
And an asshole. I’d found some answers with Verona, yes. But maybe, if Zeke had not been depleted from that break-in, he would have survived going berserk on Orion. And I would remember Dawn.
Orion groaned in his sleep, and more pieces fell into place.
“You’re Orion’s father.”
“Yes.”
“So you—” I felt sick. My grandfather had slept with Heather. He’d done so as Grayson, but that didn’t make me feel any better. “Why Heather?”
“She came to me, actually, when I was my old self. I’d gone to her parents, made them an offer for their help in seeking an alchemical solution to death. But they were too far gone, using their own potions. The next day, Heather came to me and offered her services in exchange for a solution to her own problems.” He grinned. “Her services as an alchemist, that is. The other came later, after my rebirth. Sad, I suppose, that she came to me hoping to escape her parent’s fate, and yet now she makes mana drugs for me. But for a while, I could almost see why you chased after her.”
I gritted my teeth against the huge Fuck You that struggled to escape. Instead, I said, “And Felicity?” It had been difficult to believe he’d been Felicity’s lover. Now I knew he’d continued to be after his death, as Grayson. “You used her to create and control Mother’s ghost and possess Father through the garden. But why?”
“Actually, that was a happy accident. I was experimenting with many different solutions to the problem of death, in every branch of magic and combinations of them. I thought Felicity’s ability to manipulate the connection between plants and spirit held promise, that it might be combined with necromancy somehow. Imagine anchoring your life energy to a tree that lives hundreds of years. But it proved to be a dead end.”
“So you had her frame me. And then you killed her.”
“As I said, she proved to be a dead end. Yet, she almost proved useful still in the end. I made sure word of your return reached her, knowing her guilt would bring her out of hiding to warn you about me, to ask your forgiveness. And when our attack on the Other Realm failed to trap you there, she made the perfect backup plan. Well, until you blew her up. What a waste.”
I shook my head. “You really are a heartless bastard.”
“Wars are not won by the soft hearted.”
“Sounds like an excuse to be an asshole and not apologize for it.”
“Watch it, Finn. I will only tolerate so much disrespect. Especially after I’ve treated you so well.”
“Yeah, why is that? Why are you so determined to send me back into exile? Why were your lackeys told not to harm me? It’s not to make a bomb of me, is it?”
“And now we get to the why,” Grandfather said.
And even as he said it, I knew the answer. All those times I’d felt his presence in the Other Realm had not been my imagination, or a friendly visit, or an attempt to blow me up. But it had given him something, just as Verona’s daughter had given her the power to seal the breach. “You need me there. Somehow, your immortality depends on me being in the Other Realm.”
“Depends? No. But the cost of maintaining it without your help is—well, let’s just say I must drain a lot of bodies to get the same amount of magic I can tap through our bond while you’re in exile.”
“Our bond?” Gods. How much of me truly was my grandfather? His teachings, his influence—
“Yes, our bond—our blood, our Talker gift, our spiritual resonance—they allow me to … tunnel past the barrier between our realms as long as you are there.”
I began pacing, my irritation mounting. “You do nothing but use people! Me, Felicity—Grayson. How did he feel about you taking his body?”
“James believed in the cause. And a soldier knows they may have to lay down their life for their cause.”
“But he wasn’t a soldier. You practically raised him. He was like a grandson to you!”
“Actually, James too was my son. A bastard, but mine. And until a child reaches adulthood, they are little more than parrots, repeating back what they’ve been told to believe by adults, by their friends, by television. Every parent seeks to mold their children in their image, views their children as their immortality. I just took a more literal approach.”
I bit back my response and turned away sharply, hiding the horror and disgust on my face.
This was the point in the movie where the idiot says go to hell and gets shot, or tells the bad guy he’s going to tell the press everything and steps into the elevator with the trap door. I eyed the clock. I had to play this smart, be the clever hero, not the idiot idealist. I’d criticized Verona’s choice of not playing along with Grandfather enough to at least learn his plans. I’d be a fool to make the same mistake.
But Grandfather was insane. He’d killed his own son! How could I hope to reason with him? How could I expect him to spare anyone that wasn’t important to his cause?
I couldn’t. Not unless it gained him something. Not unless it gained him me.
“Okay,” I said, taking a calming breath, and turned back to face him. “Okay. I get that you want to protect arcana from the Fey and feybloods. After twenty-five years of them feeding off me, believe me, I get it. But all I’ve seen you do is use feybloods to kill arcana.”
“And you used the Króls to fight my feybloods, or did they just happen to arrive by coincidence?”
“That’s not the same.”
“Of course it is. If I need to risk someone on a menial job, why risk my own soldiers before the war? Why not risk my enemy’s soldiers?”
“Huh.” I uncocked the gun, lowered it to my side. “I guess I can see that. And you really believe this war is coming soon?”
“You spent years in the Other Realm, Finn. You know how inhuman those beings are. Do you really think they’re not plotting against us? Do you really think the changelings are anything but scouts for their coming attack? And the ARC lets them continue with that ridiculous ‘exchange program’! While I’m trying to perfect immortality, I guarantee the Fey are seeking ways to use magic as we do, or new ways to defend against it.”
Actually, I knew that was true, didn’t I? What else could my protective Pac-Man tattoo be?
Grandfather must have seen the flicker of doubt on my face, because he leaned forward, pushed his point. “Here’s my offer, Finn. Join our cause, the cause of protecting your family and friends, of protecting all arcana from the growing Fey threat. Do so, and I shall spare the lives of these girls, and everyone in the water room.”
This was it. We were getting down to it, the moment of truth.
“If you need me in exile, what good will joining you do?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, unless you agree to join me.”
I paced for several heartbeats. “If you’re really willing to let everyone live, then I guess I have no real reason to oppose you. What you said about the Fey … you’re right. I can’t deny what I’ve seen. And more than anything, you’re my grandfather. It’s hard to remember that when you look so different, but I owe you my loyalty, and my trust, don’t I? So … yes, I’ll join you. I just wish you’d come openly to me in the first place.”
Grandfather smiled as I spoke. “Good. I hope you’ll understand if I ask for a little proof, however.”
Damn. “Like what?”
“Kill Samantha.”
“Sammy? How could you ask that? She’s my sister! Your granddaughter.”
“Therefore a fitting proof of conviction for both of us. And an acceptable loss. She’s little more than a mundy, Finn, worse even, since her body rejects magic, rejects the very thing that makes
us special. And clearly, she won’t be continuing the family line with her habits.”
“Surely there’s got to be some way to prove myself without having to kill my own sister!”
“I’m surprised, Finn. She never seemed to care much about anything, not you, not our family, not even life as far as I could tell. And if you kill her with your gift, the resonance will prove your guilt beyond any doubt. It will guarantee your exile for life.”
“We don’t need that. Can’t you just arrange my exile, especially with the ARC already after me? Between Felicity, the EMP—”
“Your destruction of Felicity’s body made tracing her death to you problematic. Breaking into the EMP isn’t worthy of exile. And while there are many on the ARC who support me in secret, I don’t have the open influence to simply send whomever I like into the Other Realm.”
“But—”
“Come now, surely you can see the need for this. One mundy out of billions, to save all arcana. One rather unpleasant sister to save your loving brother and niece, and all those friends who fought for you.”
I felt Zeke’s baton, hard and cold against my wrist. I wanted so badly to let it drop into my hand and swing it at Grayson’s head. Swing it at my grandfather. But he controlled the exits and the water. And he had decades of experience over me as a necromancer. He could rip my soul from me in the time it took me to extend the baton and swing.
Zeke might have been able to strike, with his berserker speed. But I wasn’t Zeke.
I realized what I had to do. It wasn’t what I wanted. But it was the only real choice I had. The only way I could save my brother, the only way I could keep my word to Zeke and save his sister. He’d shown me how far he would go to save her, to protect us all. I had to trust in that example.
“All right. I’ll do it. Stop the water, please.”
“Very well.” Grandfather stood, crossed to the corner of the hallway, and placed one hand over a square metal plate on the wall. “The water has stopped. Do as I ask, and I’ll drain it. Betray me, and you’ll have just enough time to hear the water start again before you die.”
“I understand.”
I crossed to the locked door and did my best to clear my mind. The problem was, all those little meditation tricks I knew to put myself in a state of readiness, I’d learned those from Grandfather. So using them reminded me of him, which sort of ruined the whole point of trying to meditate.
And then there was the whole killing Sammy or everyone dies thing to mess with my cool.
I opened the door. Sammy sat on the floor, rocking gently back and forth in Mattie’s arms. Welts covered her skin, and her eyes looked puffy, swollen as she cried: an allergic reaction to the magic Grandfather had used against her. Mattie gave me a frightened look as the door swung open, then her eyes widened in recognition.
“Uncle Finn!” She burst into tears. “I knew you’d come. Is Dad with you?”
“Everything’s going to be okay, Mattie,” I said. “I need Sammy for a minute. Sammy, can you come out here, please?”
“Is that bastard dead?” Sammy asked in a weak voice.
“No. But I need your help.”
Mattie stood. “I don’t think she—”
“It’s okay,” Sammy said. She struggled to her feet with Mattie’s help and walked with ginger steps to the door. She glanced past me to where Grandfather stood, then looked me in the eye. “I’m trusting you.”
“I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice from betraying me. I took her arm and led her out into the room. I glanced back at Mattie. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon.”
“Wait!” Mattie said, stepping toward me. I closed the door in her face.
“Don’t waste time, Finn,” Grandfather said. “It’s best if you do it quickly, like ripping off a bandage.”
“Finn?” Sammy asked.
“I’m sorry, Sammy. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
She looked from me to Grandfather. Tears welled in her eyes. “You bastards can take your Talking and ram it up your ass.”
She kicked me in the balls.
You know that feeling you get when you’ve eaten way too many jalapeños or other spicy food followed by ice cream, and you have a sudden, painful, sweat-inducing pressure low down to get it out of you by the path of least resistance?
And have you ever had the explosive, tear-inducing pain of being hit in the nose?
Combine the two, and that’s how I felt. Except in my balls.
Sammy made a break for the hallway. Grayson didn’t bother to chase after her or stop her, he just stepped well back from kicking range as she passed and said, “There’s nowhere to go.” To me he said, “That is why you don’t waste time apologizing, Finn. Just do what must be done.”
“Yes, sir.” I limped after Sammy, into the hallway. She pounded at the door while Vee tried shouting something from the other side. I looked back. Grandfather watched us from the end of the hall with arms crossed.
“Sammy,” I said. “There’s nowhere to go. You said you trust me. Trust this—if you don’t let me do this, everyone is going to die—you, Mattie, everyone.” I took a deep breath and raised my hands. She pressed her back against the door, her eyes confused and terrified. “Don’t be ashamed if you scream,” I said, and flicked my eyes to the side, doing the eyeball equivalent of nodding over my shoulder at Grandfather. “It’s expected.”
I raised my hands as if feeling the air between us, and began my summoning. The low chant wasn’t necessary, of course. But it helped me to concentrate. And it let both Sammy and Grandfather know that I’d begun.
I gave Sammy a quick, emphatic frown and flicked my eyes to the side again.
Her eyes widened in understanding, and she fell to the ground screaming.
Zeke’s baton felt cold against my skin, his blood and flakes of skin resonated against my arm. I focused on that and summoned his spirit.
“Hello?” Zeke’s voice was hollow, distant, and only I could hear it.
“Good,” Grandfather said. “I can feel her spirit energy. Now tear it free.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, leaning toward Sammy, and toward Zeke’s growing presence. “You’re dead. But at least you died to save Vee and the others.”
Grandfather sighed. “I told you, don’t apologize, Finn. If you really want to end her pain, finish her.”
“I’m … dead?” Zeke said.
“Yes,” I said, looking back at Grandfather. “But this isn’t easy for me. I may need your help this one last time.”
“School’s over, Finn,” Grandfather said. “You must do this alone. Do it now, and this will all be over.”
“Vee, is she safe?”
“I … doubt it,” I said. “You’re possessed, Grandfather, of far greater strength than me. And you possess complete control. I get that you’re the only one who can open the doors and set Vee and Pete and everyone free. I’m no fool to oppose your will. But that doesn’t make this easy.”
“Got it,” Zeke said.
“Wait. The resonance—” Grandfather said, anger seeping into his tone. His hand slapped the wall, and I heard the roar of the water resume in the chamber, a roar that sounded much louder than last time. “You’ve killed your friends! And yourself.” He raised his hands.
I summoned Grandfather’s spirit.
“Fool!” Grandfather shouted. I expected him to easily slap my attempt down. He was my grandfather, the man who’d taught me everything I knew of necromancy, a master with a lifetime of experience over me. And energy already poured from me to sustain Zeke’s summoning. But maybe all those years in exile, where even a simple movement was an act of will, had strengthened me more than I realized. Because when he pushed against my will, I held on. I could feel myself rapidly losing ground, but I held on.
More importantly, as long as he fought me, he wouldn’t be able to fight Zeke.
Grandfather’s resistance evaporated as suddenly as a trap door released beneath my feet.
�
�Quickly,” Zeke’s voice echoed out of Grayson’s mouth. “I … can’t hold on for long.”
Grayson/Grandfather’s hand jerked up as if yanked on a cord and slapped against the wall. Then it jerked away again, and I could tell Zeke was fighting to maintain control.
The door behind me hissed open. But the water didn’t stop. A low wave rushed in, washing over Sammy, splashing across my boots. Sammy gave a startled shout and scrambled to her feet. She looked from me to Grandfather uncertainly. Beyond the door, Pete called out, “Finn!” He started to enter the hall.
“Pete, no!” I said. “Help Sammy and Vee. Get everyone out.”
“Finn!” Zeke’s voice shouted. “I can’t hold this fool much longer! He—!” Zeke screamed, and Grandfather fell to his knees.
I snapped Zeke’s baton into full extension and charged. “Zeke!”
Grandfather rose unsteadily to his feet, panting. His hand reached for the wall. “You will regret—”
I struck him across the skull. His head snapped to the side and he fell to the ground. A thin wave lapped against him, but he didn’t move.
“Mattie!” I crossed the room and yanked open the closet door. “Mattie, come on, we have to go. Hurry.”
“But—”
“No buts! Just go!”
Mattie ran. I went to the hall and watched. Pete stood just beyond the door, dripping water.
“Get her out of here,” I shouted. “I’m right behind you.”
Pete nodded and helped Mattie into the water. Together they swam out of sight. I returned to the room and shoved Orion off the sofa onto the floor, into the inch of water that now covered the carpet.
“Wha—!” He jerked awake, sputtered, and cried out in pain as his movements aggravated his injuries. I raised the baton, ready to strike.
“Orion, this place is filling with water. You’ve only got a few minutes to get yourself and your father out, unless you know how to stop the flooding.”
“I’m going to kill you,” he said and pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.
“Better men have tried,” I said and nodded toward Grandfather. “Your father, for one. You might want to get moving if you’re going to save him.”
Finn Fancy Necromancy Page 35