by Lyra Evans
Niko felt a cold serpent run down his spine, coiling into his bones and freezing him in place. “You had Uri ambushed and assaulted by other officers?” Niko asked, somewhat breathless, his eyes widening. A wave of shame crashed upon him; how many bodies, broken and damaged, would litter the path behind him in this case? “Did they try to kill him?”
Phoebe stared him down. “I wouldn’t be terribly concerned about Fern’s condition right now, if I were you,” she said. “You have yet to ask me about your urchin boyfriend, though. That might be a subject more worth your worries.”
“What have you done to Cobalt?” he snapped, words falling off his tongue before he had the chance to think them. His heart felt hard and cold, like a stone sinking into the deepest part of the ocean, pressure compressing from all sides. His mind manufactured the feeling of Cobalt’s lips against his ear, soft breath exhaling slowly, and then it vanished, and Niko felt cool emptiness in its place. “Where is he?”
“He’s getting reacquainted with my brother,” she said simply. “Ambert doesn’t take well to being tricked. I told him not to outright kill the fish, but you know how well Ambert listens to instruction.”
Images of Cobalt, strung up and bleeding, burned and broken, filled Niko’s mind. The sight of his beautiful blue-brown skin turned red and ashen from the chimera attack now spread in his mind’s eyes, covering Cobalt’s entire body. Ambert would try it, Niko was certain, because Ambert would want to know how something wet dealt with fire. And Niko felt a spiralling panic grip him, closing his throat, and crumbling his resolve. The hollow in his chest pulsed in a way he hadn’t felt before, and he wondered if all the time he’d spent pushing down his feelings made him less aware of them. If he had somehow made himself less sensitive to Cobalt because of his fears.
“If any harm comes to him, I will deliver you every detail of his suffering tenfold,” Niko said quietly. The threat was flat and direct, his eyes without light as he spoke. It wasn’t a threat he made lightly, either. Magic surged in him, pumping in his blood.
Phoebe didn’t notice. “Do not make promises you cannot keep, Mr. Spruce,” she said. “I thought you prided yourself on that.” A dark smile played on her thin lips. “Now deliver your side of the deal you made, or I will proclaim you a Weasel and let the magic take its toll.”
Tasting acid in his mouth, Niko swallowed hard. “The documents linking you to Esther Cottonwood are stored in police evidence folders, within a police evidence box, stored in the trunk of a blue car that should now be parked in the garage of the TCNN headquarters in Nimueh’s Court.” He paused, steeling himself for what would come. He stood at the precipice now, on the edge of oblivion, and everything teetered on this moment. “May they enlighten whoever gets to them first.”
Phoebe’s self-satisfied expression flickered. “What?” she asked, frowning. “What do you mean by that?”
Niko ignored her and turned his attention to the tiny device he had fitted to the cable of the fly system. It was almost imperceptible, but the topaz gemstone set into a matte black band shone a tiny pinprick of yellow light when he squinted just so. Not visible at all was the peridot and aquamarine stones fitted into the band next to the topaz. The topaz was well-known for its uses in media for recording spells, but the peridot was less common. Its ability to absorb magic from the area around it made it great for scrying stones, but it could also be applied to certain covert purposes, and coupled with the aquamarine stone, it had exactly the qualities Niko needed for this particular trick.
“Hope that’s enough evidence to go on, Harvey. Sorry for the secrecy, but I think that’s a pretty killer exclusive,” Niko said, directly into the stone.
Rage climbed up Phoebe’s body, visible in every inch of her figure from the base of her gown to the roots of her muted mauve hair. Wrought into a hideous mask of loathing, her face suddenly showed her true colours. “You little Weasel,” she snapped. “You dared record me?” She looked as though she meant to lurch forward and grab Niko around the neck, but she stopped herself, regaining her composure somewhat. “No matter. You’ll never get that story out. Even if you’ve got a reporter on side. I own the media. I own absolutely everyone in this Court that matters, and you’ll sooner be dead than claiming victory over me.” She shook her head and waved a hand at Noor, who stood motionless and silent next to her. “Kill him, Noor. And the prostitute. Do with them as you wish. And destroy that device.”
“I don’t think so,” Niko said. “I mean, you can kill us both if you want. And destroy the recorder. But it won’t save you now. Not from the people outside.”
Phoebe held out an arm to stop Noor progressing though she hadn’t actually moved yet. “What people?”
Niko gestured grandly toward the curtain that blocked the sight of them from the auditorium. There was nothing to see, of course. Not from their angle. But outside, from the seats of the theatre, a projection of their little discussion was rolling against the pale backdrop of the set. Audio piped over the speaker system throughout the building, inaudible to the sections of the rear of house, but perfectly clear to all the audience members who had filtered in for the opening night of the play.
“The people out there came for a show,” Niko said. “So I gave them one they wouldn’t forget.”
Niko’s heart pounded a hard but steady beat, and it counted out a moment during which Phoebe recalculated. He saw it in her empty eyes. She lifted her chin, standing tall and haughty, and dismissed him again.
“You’ve condemned them, then,” she said. “Not a damn thing can stand in my way now, not even a theatre full of witnesses. None of those peasants have any power in this Court, anyway. None of them have the power to turn the tides against me.”
“No—but I do,” a voice said from somewhere beyond.
The black curtain suddenly drew back, flooding the cross over with light from the stage and auditorium. The warding and runes gave way, activated by the closure of the curtains. Standing beyond the cables and pulleys and counterweights, strong and defiant and centre stage, were Courtier Keilani Palm, Preston, and Uri. Niko was relieved to see Uri essentially unharmed. Preston, meanwhile, looked somewhat mussed, his lip slightly cracked and his normally pristine clothing rumpled and torn in places.
Phoebe squinted in the sudden assault of light, but she held her ground. “You always were a short-sighted idiot, Keilani. Stubborn and unyielding and holier-than-thou.” She rolled her eyes. “Surprise, surprise, you want to stop me. But you’re just as useless as the rest of these slugs. And you’ll be dead before the hour’s up. But you, Preston,” she said, glaring at him the way she looked upon Cobalt and Niko. It was a loathing rooted deep within her core, and Niko realized Preston had likely always seen it in her. He must have known, with his keen Werewolf senses, that she was this person beneath it all. Always. Maybe he dulled his own senses for years with lies, but he knew it was there. “Such a disappointment. The time and money I wasted on training you.”
Preston laughed. “Precisely,” he said. “You thought you were training me. Like a dog. And all the while you were raising me to be exactly the man you wanted me to be—like you. And like you, I serve myself first, Phoebes, love.” He shook his head and turned to Keilani Palm, offering her his hand. “I hereby commit to testifying against Phoebe Linden and the organization known as the Woods.”
Palm’s hand clasped his, and the deal was struck, breaking the contract Preston had made with Phoebe. A pulse of magic broke over the area, drawing through Preston, sapping strength from him, and Phoebe reacted most visibly. As though struck by an actual shockwave, her head knocked back, and she stumbled slightly.
“You traitor. You’ll regret this—”
“Where do you hope to go from here?” Niko asked. “They all know the truth of you. And no one is standing down.”
Holding herself to her full height, Phoebe was unafraid. “I have more friends than you can imagine. More people at my command. They’re surrounding this building; they’re
writing up covers for the deaths here today; they’re erasing evidence. And you seem to forget, I still have your friend and your squid lover—”
“Do you?” Cobalt asked, appearing from the wings at the side of the stage. He was unharmed, apparently, and alone. “I had a little meeting with your beloved brother—or should I say half-brother?” Cobalt stepped forward without haste, but Niko’s heart pumped as though everything was set to double speed. “He seemed to think those earplugs would make me helpless. When I illustrated how incorrect that theory was, he became more receptive to discussing things with me. And once he heard you admit your own mixed-blood status, he became much more interested in protecting himself than worrying about you or what you wanted. He was very quick to throw you to the sharks, so-to-speak.”
The audience beyond them watched in muted silence, perhaps caught in horror or disbelief or anger. From his position, Niko couldn’t tell. But he was also paying them little mind. The relief that Cobalt was unharmed was like a balm to burned skin, soaking into him and allowing him to believe they were far beyond the point of victory.
“Noor, kill them all,” Phoebe said without preamble. “You’re the only one I can rely on.” But Noor made no move to obey. She held the gun to Starla’s jaw just as before, her gaze fixed on Niko still. A few beats passed, and Phoebe seemed to realize something was amiss. “Noor. Kill them. Shoot them now.”
Starla spat out the cloth gagging her, stretching her jaw a moment before turning to face Phoebe. The ropes around her slackened suddenly, and she said, “I don’t think she really wants to.”
Horror crossed Phoebe’s face, and Coral emerged from her own hiding place in the wings, Singing softly into a headset not unlike the one Niko had used as disguise. Noor turned her head, facing Phoebe directly, pointing smoothly to the tiny black earpiece in her opposite ear.
“Surrender now, Phoebe,” Keilani Palm said, shaking her head at her former colleague. “You are caught. At least go out with a modicum of dignity.”
Phoebe met Palm’s gaze, her face set to a mask of disdain. “Fuck you, Keilani.”
She moved more quickly than she seemed capable, snatching the gun from Noor’s hand. Coral reacted first, making Noor shove Starla aside and out of the way. Niko moved at the same time, jetting toward Phoebe, his hand on the grip of his gun. He drew the weapon fast enough to make his own shot, but the flurry of movement threw everything off.
His bullet struck the very edge of Phoebe’s gun, knocking it wildly to the side. Her shot went wide, striking the edge of one of the boxes above the stage, but the force of the shot exploded right by Noor’s ear, deafening her to Coral’s Song. Disoriented, she shook off the feeling and blinked around, searching for recourse. She grabbed for Starla, the person closest to her, but Starla clasped a hand down on Noor’s where she was caught. With a scream, Noor released Starla with a violent shove, knocking her into Coral downstage.
Preston had transformed, and a large brown Wolf bounded toward Phoebe, but she recovered enough to meet him with a bullet. One of her hands passed over the barrel of the gun as she pulled the trigger, and Niko felt his blood pump cold at the sight. A high-pitched yowl and whimper, and Preston went down in a pile of fur and blood, his flank spilling red. Uri cried out, his own gun drawn, but as he shot, Noor dove in front of Phoebe, making trades to create a shield on the air.
The bullets struck the shield, smashing to dust on impact and falling to nothing, but Uri emptied his clip into it, and Noor was so focused on defending from the bullets she couldn’t stop Cobalt sliding toward her to swipe her legs out from under her. She tumbled down onto him, as Uri gathered Preston into his arms and dragged him off to the side, away from the fight. Niko shot again, much closer to Phoebe, but she had turned her attention to him fully.
She tore at the gemstone jewellery at her neck and whipped it at Niko’s face. The gemstones transformed in midair, the sapphires and diamonds turning to spells they were made for, and a barrage of cutting spells and curses rained down on Niko. With no other choice, he dropped his gun and made exchanges of his own, the air in front of him trading back and forth with the curses and spells as they passed. Tiny explosions went off like disappointing fireworks around him as the curses petered out to nothing before striking him. Cutting spells turned to wind and water, dousing him with tiny jets that buffeted his skin and hair but did little damage.
A scream tore from someone, and Niko, exhausted from the intensity and number of trades he’d made, got distracted. He saw Cobalt plunge his glass knife into Noor’s arm, denying her use of that hand for trades. She used the other hand to throw Cobalt off against the cables of the fly system. An unpleasant cracking sound followed as he struck the steel cables, and Niko felt his stomach lurch.
“Hands off my brother, bitch!” Coral cried, swinging a large set piece around and snapping it across Noor’s head. The impact knocked her sideways, flailing like a rag doll. She fell in a heap, unconscious and bleeding on the stage.
All this happened so quickly Niko barely blinked through it, turning back to Phoebe only to find her gun aimed directly at his chest. He saw the barrel of the gun pointed at him, and he saw her hand swiping over it to make a trade. He felt the magic of the trade as an undercurrent to the violence teeming around them, but he didn’t back away. Time stopped for a moment, and Niko saw his options. Cobalt struggled to lift himself off the ground. Starla and Coral were binding Noor in place. Uri was seeing to Preston, and Palm was evacuating the audience and crew. Everything was chaos. And Phoebe had untold exit strategies. Niko could dodge, or he could stop her.
One hand sliding over the other, Niko took the split second of time to make a trade. The air between him and Phoebe sparked and burned and drove forward like shockwave. A cacophony of sound broke all at once, snapping on the air, people calling his name, screaming, rushing, the popping of a gunshot, and a sudden intake of breath. Niko saw the bullet moving toward him, burning at the edges, as though it was made of coal and oil and flame. And then one sound cut through all the rest. A scream that tore through his chest and cracked open his ribcage.
When time came back to speed, Niko was standing in shock. Phoebe was knocked backward into the back wall of the theatre, gasping for breath. And at his feet was Cobalt, hand to his chest. The colour of him was all off, the muscles of his face wrought in agony without sound. His blue-brown skin was red and orange, and the fire was spreading all through him. There was no blood. Too hot. Too hot for bleeding, everything cauterized and burned more brightly. Cobalt’s crystal blue eyes looked up at him, cutting through him to his soul, full of fear and pain. And before his eyes, Niko saw Cobalt being consumed in fire, burned from the inside out.
Everything fell away. Existing outside of time and matter and pleasure and pain, Niko became something else. Someone else. He had no faith in the old gods and old myths. He had no stake in the fate of the worlds, in the lasting of Souls, or the birth of creation. But Niko knew one god well, had served her long. And in a splintering of possibilities, he became Justice. And Justice was Retribution.
Searing with a magic beyond himself, Niko opened his mouth and screamed. It made no audible sound at all, but shattered bones and minds. He was on his knees at Cobalt’s side, watching his own heart burn to ash before his eyes, and nothing at all would stop him. One hand reached down, pressing flat to the crater of Cobalt’s wound. Ethereal fire burned into his palm and fingers, filling each ridge of his handprint with molten magic. But Niko felt nothing of it. Pressing down harder and harder, pouring himself into the touch and the wound, Niko looked up at Phoebe, frozen against the wall. He saw everything in shades of red, the world stained in carnage. Raising his other hand in the air, he faced his palm to her.
At first, it seemed nothing happened at all, but that was only because everything was moving so slowly. Soon, the mystical fire rose up from Cobalt’s wounds and into Niko’s hand. It crept along like blood pooling across tile, dipping into every crevice and thinning out over more a
nd more area. And as it spread through Niko, it drew back from Cobalt, releasing inch after inch of his skin to its natural state and colour. Water steamed on the air around them as this happened, but Niko saw nothing but Phoebe before him. He felt nothing at all but the rising tide of magic within him.
And when the fire had filled him sufficiently, he pushed it back out again. A beam of concentrated magical flame burst from his outstretched palm, spearing through Phoebe like a lance. Niko screamed again, a conduit of power he should never have experienced, but Justice was an old rival of Fate, and she had a point to make. So he watched the jet of fire pour from him and into Phoebe, pulling every drop of heat and ember from Cobalt’s body. And he watched Phoebe absorb it, completely still and helpless to stop it.
The light from the impact was blinding, enough to burn through retinas and boil the brain, but Niko was not Niko then, and Justice wanted to see this through. It was a trade so infinitely simple and yet so mind-bendingly complex no mortal could have contemplated it, and when it was done, not a single person present that day could quantify what it was they witnessed.
In a single instant, it happened, and when it was done, Niko was drained to nothing. He felt himself collapse over Cobalt, barely managing to brace himself and not crush his lover. Steam billowed around them and away, and when Niko opened his eyes, finding his breath again, he saw Cobalt lying beneath him, eyes gleaming, body unharmed.
“Are you all right?” Cobalt whispered. A hand came up and cupped Niko’s face. Niko tilted into it.
“No,” Niko said, breathless. “You were dying.”
Cobalt’s thumb brushed his cheek. “I had to save your life, if you wouldn’t.”
Niko pressed his lips to Cobalt’s palm, exhaling a silent heave. And before he spoke the words, he knew them to be true. No doubt remained now. “There is no life for me without you.”