by J. C. Staudt
“But you won’t be looking.”
“The greed of humans never ceases to astound. Grab the lizard and come. I have your effects.”
Cradling Ersatz’s limp body in my arms, I leave the hovel and stumble blindly after the sidhe’s voice, crossing a muddy rootbound tract laden with inconveniently-placed rocks. She warns me when we reach the river. I wade in to my chest, hoisting Ersatz above my head. The water level recedes, and by the time I reach the shore he’s muttering to himself about warm crumpets and toasty buns, or something to that effect.
Elona leads me another hundred feet or so before removing my blindfold with a flick of her fingers. We’re standing in an empty grass lot bordered by trees. Late-night cars rush down the adjoining road, which I recognize as West Jefferson Avenue. My wallet, keys, cell, and gun are lying on the ground in front of me, bathed in the hazy light of a nearby streetlamp. I’m dripping-wet, my shoes caked with mud and my clothes smelling like death.
Elona is still cloaked but no longer shining like before. She isn’t the least bit damp. “Here we are.”
“We’re in New Detroit,” I point out.
“Yes,” she says.
“My car is in Canada.”
“Lucky you. You’ve avoided a long wait at U.S. customs.”
“How am I supposed to get it back?”
She gives an impatient sigh. “I’ll see your vehicle returned. Where would you like it moved to?”
I study her. “You don’t know where I live.”
She wrinkles her mouth. Even when she’s perturbed, it’s a beautiful thing, though I don’t let on. “You’re no easy man to fool, Mr. Cadigan.”
“If you believe that, you should’ve been there the last time I played poker. But yes, I’m aware there isn’t a fairy alive who doesn’t thrive on tricks and deception. There are probably layers to this I haven’t even picked up on yet. So for now, if you’ll kindly point me in the direction of VampCon so I can do your bidding—”
“Tomorrow night at ten o’clock in an upper room of the Detroit Opera House.”
“Vampires own the opera house?”
“The vampire. Sebastian Bordeaux, the most revered and formidable vampire lord in all of New Detroit, and a long-time scion of the Hallowed coven.”
Wonderful. The Mottrovs were just an appetizer. “How do I report back to you afterwards?”
“You know where to find me.”
She glows until she’s so bright I have to shut my eyes. Then the light is gone, and I’m standing alone in the lot. I lay Ersatz in the grass while I pick up my soggy wallet, my waterlogged gun, my keys, the velvet drawstring bag containing the Trillion of the Bloodless, and yet another ruined cell phone. I tuck a still-woozy Ersatz into my hoodie and catch a bus for home.
Chapter 14
Ersatz doesn’t have a bed. He sleeps wherever he damn well pleases, and he always has. He does what he wants, and he doesn’t care who knows it or what anyone thinks. But after hearing the hags lay into him about his small size and his inadequacies compared to true dragons, I can’t help but see him differently. The hags seized their insults from his own subconscious. All his pomp and self-importance is a mask. We all mask our self-doubt to some degree, but I never imagined Ersatz had any to hide.
I lay him on the armchair cushion, change into some warm dry clothes, and mix up a concoction in the office laboratory. I cast a few spells to soothe my dragon’s aches and comfort his mind in whatever way I can. I’m no expert at magical healing—and don’t want to be, given the price it exacts on its practitioners—but Ersatz deserves every bit of peace I can give him. He’s always taken care of me. Sure, he’s ruthless and insensitive. He’s hard on me because he’s always known I would need to be tough. When the chips are down, though, he’s always there. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the biggest, truest dragon in this world or any other.
I sit on the couch and watch him. He stirs from time to time, muttering but never opening his eyes. Mine keep wanting to close, and before long I’m nodding off.
I startle awake at the sound of his voice.
“Stop it. You’re shrinking me.”
A nightmare. I’m about to wake him up when his eyes shoot open.
He lifts his head. Looks around, sees me seated beside him. “We’re home.”
“Don’t you just love getting knocked unconscious during a battle and waking up in a safe place? You can officially say your life is like a movie now.”
“It wasn’t a dream? The Waywatcher Tree. The angel man. Those disgusting hags…”
“All real.”
“What happened?”
I tell him everything.
“And you’re actually considering it?”
“I’m more than considering it. I have no choice. I’m Lady Wygella’s dream-slave. Either I kill the hags, or I do what Elona Anarian wants.”
“How do you know the sidhe will keep her word?”
“She’s a fairy. Do fairies ever keep their words?”
“Only under the auspices of an honorbound pact. You did strike a pact with her. Didn’t you?”
I scratch my head. “I didn’t realize that was, like, standard protocol.”
“Oh dear gods.” Ersatz flops his chin on the cushion and covers his eyes with his claws. “Someone put me back to sleep.”
“Sorry I didn’t pull a perfect plan out of thin air. I was concentrating on getting us out of there alive. We could’ve been the main ingredient in a pot of hag stew, for all I knew. The sidhe went babbling on for so long it was a while before I could tell whether she was going to kill us or not.”
“Errors aside, you’ve a decision to make. Should you kill those three hags, there will be great gain. They possess not only a Twinmind’s Eye, but a Blackstone Heart as well, on top of who knows what other artifacts or potions. Yet I doubt you’ve any interest in evoking the wrath of Elona Anarian.”
“You can say that again. But don’t.”
“Then you must do as the sidhe asks. Attend the Pax Sanguinem and find out what you can—not only about the Ascended, but perhaps about a certain dhampir with ties to them.”
“This might be just what I need to get a closer look at Irys. I wonder what Ryovan’s plan is. Bet it’s not as good as this one. In the morning I’ll get a new cell and give him a call. I’m gonna have to start visiting a new wireless store. The people at mine practically know me by name.”
Ersatz is leery. “Are you certain you want to speak with Ryovan before tomorrow night?”
“I’d like to get some advice before I head to the Pax Sanguinem, preferably from someone familiar with the coven’s chain of command. I don’t think this is the kind of thing I can afford to do without context, even if one of the Guardians is a spy.”
“For once, I’m going to disagree with you.”
“You disagree with me constantly.”
“I mean about speaking with the Guardians. I don’t think you should.”
“What if I talk to just Des and no one else?”
Ersatz gives me a flat look. “You really think she’ll keep it a secret from the others?”
I sit back. “Probably not. Oh well, I guess I won’t mention it, then.”
“I’ll fix the spellvault belt—necklace—in due time. I just need… a good night’s… rest.”
I’m about to remind him I can’t wear the Trillion of the Bloodless and the spellvault necklace at the same time, but his eyes are closing, and it doesn’t feel right to keep him awake after the night we’ve had. Any magic item which forms a circle around a given body part won’t work if there’s an interfering circle. You can wear magic rings on two different fingers, for instance, but not two rings on the same finger.
Satisfied my dragon is going to be okay, I retire to my room for the night. After a quick shower and another change of clothes, I launder my swampy garments, empty my wallet, and hang out my holster to dry. I’m asleep seconds after my head hits the pillow, but it isn’t a soft, easy sleep. That fus
ty old hag Lady Wygella starts making trouble in my dreams right away.
Nightmares I haven’t had since I was a kid are followed by a series of new terrors which wake me in cold sweats. She plays on my insecurities like she did in the steelyard, steeping me in my father’s certain disgrace and vilifying my imposture of Arden Savage. She caps it all off by dropping me into a nightmare where I’m being chased through a dark forest by unseen beasts.
After a few hours of this I find myself lying wide awake, staring at the wall, too afraid to fall under again. When morning comes I feel like I haven’t slept a wink. I trudge into the kitchen for breakfast only to find Ersatz standing at attention on the island. He flinches when I walk in. His scales are dull, the spikes around his head standing on end.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask, grabbing the Lucky Charms off the fridge.
“Can’t,” he intones.
I look at him. “Did you have nightmares all night too?”
His gaze darts around the room. “All the rats, the mice, the cockroaches I’ve eaten over the years. They’ve risen from the dead, and they’re coming for me. The apocalypse is upon us. Beware, for the vengeance of the shambling hordes is nigh.”
“Someone’s been watching too much TV. That, or you’ve got a wicked case of indigestion.”
“You don’t understand what she did to me.”
“Yeah I do. The same thing she did to me. You’re a dream-slave. That’s how these hags get you. It isn’t real. Shake it off, man.”
“You shake it off,” he snaps, wild-eyed. “It is real. I’ve… I’ve never felt a dream so real before.”
“Welcome to the rest of our lives if we don’t do something about those hags.”
“Go to the Pax Sanguinem. You must trust the sidhe. You’ve no other choice.”
“Planning on it. I’m sorry Ersatz, but I’ve thought it over and decided I’m going to tell the Guardians. We’re dealing with two very powerful supernatural entities in the fae and the vampires, and I’m no match for either of them on my own.”
He grunts a laugh. “The Guardians are no more a match for them than you are, but go ahead, if you must. I rather enjoy being right.”
“You also enjoy rubbing it in when I’m wrong.”
He smiles. “That part isn’t bad, either.”
“Now you’re sounding like your old self again. Those nightmares didn’t frazzle you too badly.”
Ersatz is harried, but he offers a thin smile in reply.
I shower up for the day and illusion myself into Arden Savage before stopping at a wireless store across town to pick up a new cell with the same phone number. After steamrolling through the sales associate’s observation that I recently changed devices and I’m not eligible for an upgrade for another fifteen months, I head for the hospital with my new phone in hand. They need to start making these things waterproof.
As I enter the hospital garage, I sense something isn’t right. Baz should be on his feet by now, but he’s nowhere in sight. He isn’t engaged in one of his midday tinkering sessions or snoozing in the rat’s nest he calls a bed over in the corner. I expect to hear the thud of stony feet on the pavement behind me any second, but Fremantle doesn’t fly down from the roof like she usually does. Thinking back, I’m not so sure I noticed her on the roof.
I go in.
The halls are eerily silent. I don’t see or hear a soul until Satielle creeps out of the wall to my left and cries out in surprise at the sight of me. I’ve never startled a ghost before. I’ll add that to my resume.
“What are you doing here, Prince Cade?” the little halfling asks.
“Ryovan asked me to come by.”
“He’s at work. So are Shenn and Desdemona and Urdal.”
“Urdal’s feeling better? That’s good.”
“He was able to shake off the effects of the flickerfrog poison more easily than Baz was.”
“Where’s Baz?”
“Resting. Janice has done all she can for him. She’s pumping him full of medicine and letting him sleep. Fremantle’s been with him around the clock.”
“I’ll go say hi. Also, Urdal has a job? How did I not know that?”
“He’s a bicycle messenger.”
“Should’ve guessed.”
There’s a loud crash from the next hallway.
“What was that?”
“Your friend has been causing some, uh… trouble.”
“Where is he?”
She puts a finger to her lips for silence, then motions me to follow. She walks on her tiptoes, which makes me laugh because her footsteps don’t make noise to begin with. Thuds and bangs and crashing noises grow louder as we turn and pass through a set of double doors into the inpatient ward, where most of the Guardians’ bedrooms are located.
The hallway is littered with debris. Tray tables, linens, IV stands, monitoring equipment, bedpans, dressings, and medicine bottles lay scattered across the floor. The air is hazy, and there’s a heavy rotten-egg smell.
An old CRT television sails through an open doorway and crashes to the floor, shattering its convex screen across the linoleum. I break into a run despite Satielle’s warnings, but come to a sliding halt when Githryx blinks into the hallway. Calyxto darts through the doorway and blinks out, reappearing behind the imp. He takes a swing, but Githryx vanishes in a puff of sulfur smoke.
I turn back to Satielle. “What’s going on here?”
“They’ve been fighting like this since Ryovan left for work this morning. I’ve tried to break it up, but they won’t be bothered to stop.”
“Where are Baz and Fremantle?”
“They went to a room a few hallways down for some peace and quiet.”
“And Janice?”
“Doesn’t care.”
I almost ask about Mazriel, but I doubt the old bat would lift a finger unless the commotion was disturbing the shamanistic feng shui of her lab. “I’ll handle this.” I march down the hallway after them, but the two infernal creatures are winking and blinking through the ward so fast I can’t keep up. “Calyxto. Calyxto. Hey. Quit it.”
Calyxto stops teleporting long enough to flash me a wide grin and shout, “Oh, hey Cade,” before resuming the chase.
Githryx screams every time Calyxto gets a hand on him, voice chopping in and out with every blink. He flutters his wings, hops around, runs up walls, and scrambles across the drop ceiling, which crumbles to white dust beneath his claws. His screams are punctuated with a series of guffaws like the laughter of a child playing tag. That’s when I realize they are playing tag.
“Hey. Calyxto. Pause. Timeout.”
Calyxto blinks in, face to face with me. “Hey, Cade. What’s up?”
“Stop chasing Githryx around. That’s what’s up. What are you doing?”
“Having fun. What’s it look like?”
“It looks like you’re trying to kill each other. You’re scaring poor Satielle half to—well… you’re scaring her.”
“It’s okay, your highness,” says Satielle. “Happens all the time.”
I’m sure it doesn’t happen all the time, but she’s nice to say so. “Honestly, Calyxto. You’ve been here for two days and you’re already wrecking the place.”
“I know, isn’t it great? Githryx and I got off to a rocky start. We didn’t like each other much at first, but we’re pretty much best buds now.”
I wave a hand at the destruction. “Is this how you show someone you like them in the underworld?”
“Relax. It’s just a friendly game of flicker tag.”
“This isn’t some slophouse halfway to Hades. Breaking stuff and making a racket while people are trying to rest is not gonna fly here.”
Calyxto tosses a conspiratorial look in Githryx’s direction. “Gee willickers, Dad. I sure do apologize. I’m so embarrassed it’s making me red in the face.”
“Knock it off. How about a little respect for the people who took you in instead of throwing you out on your ass?”
H
e changes his accent. “I ain’t mean no disrespect.”
“I’m about to throw you out of here myself.”
He vanishes and reappears behind my back. “Try it.”
I clench my jaw and take a deep breath before turning to face him. “There’s a gym for playing hide and seek. You didn’t have to trash everyone’s rooms. Clean this up, or you’re gone.”
“I like it better this way. Feels like home. I’m stuck here, so I might as well make the most of it.”
“Here. I want you to have this.”
I take something out of my pocket and toss it to him. He catches it, opens his hand and sees the anchorstone, and flicks his eyes up to find my fist hurtling toward his face. When he tries to teleport away, the stone’s magical ward stops him dead.
The crunch of his face beneath my knuckles is the most satisfying feeling I’ve had all day. He stumbles into a wheeled medical cart and topples over backwards, sending boxed gauze pads and iodine bottles scattering in every direction. I shake off my fist, march over to him, and lift him to his feet by the collar while plucking the stone off the floor. I drop it down the back of his shirt and pull his face close to mine.
“You’d better fucking shape up. I’ve been through too much in the past few days to stand here and listen to a thankless ingrate whine about a situation that’s his own damn fault. These people and their possessions are not your playthings. You’re a guest in their home, and if you don’t start acting like it I’ll not only kick you out, I’ll deliver you to the Fae Council myself. I vouched for you because I wanted to believe you weren’t the self-centered asshole the sidhe thinks you are. She’s giving you one more chance to behave before she locks you away for good. Now get off your ass and go make amends to Sildret. You owe him for breaking his pact. Serve him, beg, grovel, do whatever you have to do. Just make it right.”
I let him go.
He blinks at me. His eyes deaden to a frigid, calculating stare. A bruise shines on his cheek against the apple-red skin. He wipes a trickle of blood from where my knuckle split him open. “Fuck you, Cade. Fuck you. I know who I am. You won’t turn me into some goody-two-shoes by shoving your moral rectitude down my throat. You want to put your faith in my humanity? You’re putting it in the wrong place. Thanks for the shitty accommodations, but I’ll take my chances with the fae.”