Mortal Ties wotl-9

by Eileen Wilks

  Glass, Arjenie said, did weird things to her Gift. One of those things was the way it knocked out everyone within twenty feet if she pulled strongly on her Gift while touching glass. That “everyone” included Arjenie herself, but the halfling had probably had training not available to a part-sidhe woman raised here on Earth. Training that let her shield herself from the effect.

  It didn’t make sense that Cullen’s prototype could block the mate-sense…because it wasn’t the prototype doing it. It was her. Alycithin. The halfling. Who had a Gift like Arjenie’s, only a lot stronger. A Gift that allowed her to go unnoticed by everyone but ghosts and touch sensitives—and which could baffle wards, too. And, apparently, confuse the mate bond.

  The mate bond was magic, after all. Not wholly magic—there seemed to be a spiritual component—but Cullen could see it, and he didn’t see the spiritual stuff, so part of it was built from magic. That would be the part the halfling’s Gift messed with.

  Gifts were always stronger than formed magic, Lily had been told. Still, the mate bond came from the Lady. Who was an Old One.

  Alycithin must have one hell of a strong Gift.

  Lily finished rinsing her hair, turned the shower off, and grabbed a towel. She frowned as she dried herself off, frowned harder when she realized she’d forgotten to get some of the clothes the sidhe had provided. She padded over to the closet.

  If the halfling was baffling the mate bond with her Gift, what was blocking Cullen’s Find spells?

  That had to be the prototype itself, she decided as she fastened the bra that was such a creepy perfect fit. Alycithin didn’t have the prototype, or why bother grabbing Lily? Either Friar had it, or there was yet another group or individual in this mix who did.

  Say Friar did have it. Lily simply didn’t believe the prototype could confuse the mate bond the way Alycithin’s Gift did. So if Sean was right and the halfling did intend to trade Lily to Friar, then once Lily was in Friar’s hands, her mate-sense should start working again. So should Rule’s.

  Lily stood stock-still in her underwear as a really stupid idea seized hold of her. Stupid and crazy. Sure, she wanted Robert Friar, wanted him badly. But aside from the risk she’d be taking, she had a civilian here. Sean Friar wasn’t likely to escape on his own, and she didn’t buy whatever soothing platitudes the halfling had fed him about her code. Sean was too big a liability.

  But there was another civilian. Another hostage, one held by “the other group.” The easiest way to find Adam King was to find Robert Friar. And Lily had someone who wanted to take her to him.

  She pulled on her clothes slowly, thinking hard. Then stood and thought some more. At last she moved in front of the sink, where she stared at the fogged-up mirror without seeing it. She reached for that place in her mind…

  It was like a dial. The default setting on her personal dial was set to the frequency where she talked to Drummond, and that was downright annoying. Why would her personal dial be set to him? But maybe it had nothing to do with him, being more about whatever weird thing tied them together. That was why she could mindspeak him so easily now that she’d gotten the knack of it, she’d decided.

  But she’d mindspoken Rule on purpose a couple of times now. She had a sense for where he was on her dial. Changing that dial was tricky, and she didn’t always get it right. It was probably pointless to try. She had no idea how far away he was, but distance mattered. She’d never tried to mindspeak anyone who wasn’t with her. And she was behind warded walls, her mate-sense baffled by the halfling’s Gift—which might not affect mindspeech, but still. There was no reason to think this would work.

  And no reason not to try. Lily took a slow breath and hunted for Rule on her dial. Rule, I’m okay. I’m being held by the halfling, who has a Gift like Arjenie’s, but stronger. She brought me here in a Honda CR-V, license plate 5FLT230. I’m on the third floor of a seven-story building in a residential area that’s not near the water. Sean Friar is here, apparently a hostage. I haven’t seen Adam King or Robert Friar. I’m told they’re not here. I think there’s another group of elves. I think the halfling intends to trade me to Friar, who may be with the other elves, who may have Adam King. I think I should let her. The mate bond will work again when I’m not around the halfling, and you can find me. And Robert Friar and Adam King.

  Lily took a deep breath. That was tiring. She had no idea if she’d done it right, but if it tired her out, she’d done something. She told herself she’d have no way of knowing if she was reaching Rule. She hadn’t learned how to receive, just how to send, and that only a little bit. But her gut was clenched and unhappy. Her gut was sure she hadn’t reached him at all.

  Better try it again. She ran through the whole spiel a second time. Then she stared at the slowly clearing mirror, frustrated, wondering if her gut had a clue about what was going on that her mind wasn’t able to tap in to, because it insisted she was getting nowhere.

  On impulse, she reached up and drew on the foggy mirror with her finger. Drew a simple, stylized bee—a crude representation of the toltoi charm. Which wasn’t exactly magic, but the halfling had taken it, hadn’t she? Maybe she had a reason. Lily stared at that silly outline the way Sam always had her stare at a candle flame. Find me here, he’d say. She stared at it and tried to find Rule.

  “MORE eggs?” Rule said.

  “No, thanks.” Beth pushed the eggs still on her plate around with her fork.

  Beth hadn’t eaten much, but Rule let it go. Lily was always telling him he tried to stuff her as if she were lupi.

  He’d ordered enough for everyone. Madame Yu was still asleep, but several of his men had woken as soon as the smell of sausage and bacon reached them. As he’d known they would. He was doing Rho things. Taking care of his people. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could…

  LT230…stucco building, not near the water…hostage…trade me to Robert Friar.

  Rule’s fork fell from his hand. His head swung to the left. To the east. “That way,” he breathed. “She’s that way.”

  LILY swayed, suddenly so dizzy she could scarcely stand. She gripped the sink with one hand and waited for it to pass. Her head swung to the west.

  That way. Rule was that way.

  Not that she felt him now, but she had. She had. For a few seconds while she was focused on the toltoi, the mate-sense had broken through. Rule was that way, and about ten miles away. Maybe a little less.

  When the music faded, she scarcely noticed. Then a lovely, musical voice replaced the Mozart. “Lily Yu. We never did settle the matter of your correct title, did we? I would like it if you would join me for breakfast. Sean, I regret the discourtesy of not including you this time, but hope you will join me for lunch later. Lily Yu, to respond you must press your palm to the wall.”

  Lily straightened, swallowed, and shoved her wet hair behind her ears. Her hands were shaky. She didn’t know if that was because she’d spent a lot of power, or if she was just scared spitless. Or so relieved she couldn’t think straight.

  All of the above, maybe. She took a deep breath and did as she’d been told. The magic in the wall still vibrated, even though it wasn’t making music at the moment. “I appreciate and accept your invitation.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “BUT what the hell’s LT230?” Scott said.

  “I don’t know.” Rule scrubbed his face with both hands. “Maybe that isn’t all of it. She was fading in and out—more out than in, I think.”

  Everyone was gathered around the table, looking at a map of the city. Rule had called Cullen to let him know: Lily was somewhere east of the hotel, and she wasn’t near water. She was possibly in a stucco building. He needed to call Tony, tell him to concentrate on the east side of the city, but they’d hoped to narrow it even further with that mysterious number.

  “If that’s only part of it,” Jasper said slowly, “maybe it’s from a license plate. California plates are usually a number, three letters, then three numbers.”

  “May
be.” Rule stared at the letters and numbers he’d scribbled down as if the scrap of paper could yield some certainty. “I’ll call it in as a possibility.” He reached for his phone. Ruben first, to get the ball rolling on what might be a partial license plate. Or might not. Then he’d call Tony.

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THE main room was much as Sean had described it. The sidhe might be using mage lights for their hostages, but out here the lighting was electric. One elf sat on the couch, doing something with his fingers. It reminded Lily of the way Cullen drew spell diagrams in the air, only she didn’t see the lines of light Cullen doodled with. He—she thought it was a he—wore the kind of clothes Rethna’s elves had, a soft blue tunic with darker blue pants and green boots. His hair was white and long and pulled back in a single braid.

  There was a big-screen TV across from the couch, tuned to a station that played pretty pastoral scenes and classical music. Mozart’s sonata was just ending as she walked across the room with the other elf at her back.

  Her stomach hurt. That was nerves…oh, use the right word. That was fear, and to be expected, maybe, but she didn’t like feeling this way.

  Her hostess and captor was already seated at the table. She wore a yellow tunic that looked like silk and would probably hit her knees when she stood. It was belted at her waist with a narrow leather band that held a sheath. The hilt of a knife protruded from that sheath. Her legs and feet were bare.

  At the table, Lily pulled out a chair at the place that was obviously meant for her. The elf who’d walked behind her went to stand behind the halfling woman. He had long hair the color of a Creamsicle and wore jeans and a T-shirt, which looked strange as hell on an elf. He was armed with a SIG Sauer, not a knife. He held the weapon in his hand, not pointing it at Lily, but ready to.

  A drift of white mist hovered over the table. Lily’s gaze flicked up to it once, then away. It was surprisingly reassuring to know Drummond was here. He couldn’t do anything, but he was here, and on her side.

  She believed that, she realized with a small jolt. Her gut did, anyway. Seeing his ghostly self nearby settled her stomach.

  “You may call me Alycithin,” the halfling said politely. She pronounced it much as Sean had, accent on the second syllable, only with more lilt. “I’m unsure of your preferences, and we have no servitors here, so I must ask you to serve yourself.” Her eyes were a bright, clear green. Like a cat’s.

  “I’m used to serving myself.” The table was set with plates for her and the halfling. Cloth napkins, but no silverware, Lily noted. No fork or butter knife to stab her hostess with. The food was all finger food—bacon, fruit someone had cut and arranged attractively on a platter, and a second platter with slices of bread. No butter, but it smelled good, like it wasn’t long out of the oven.

  There were also pitchers of water and what looked like orange juice with glasses for both. Also a delicate china cup and saucer at each place. And a teapot. No coffee. Lily grieved briefly, then took a slice of bacon and some strawberries. “Does your culture encourage or allow business to be discussed during a meal?”

  “It is thoughtful of you to ask. Normally we do not, but it is possible to make an exception to usual practice, if we both wish this.”

  “I wish it.” Tea was not, in Lily’s opinion, a substitute for coffee, but it was better than nothing. “Do you think the tea has finished steeping?”

  “I believe so.” Alycithin poured herself some water, smiled, and drank deeply before setting her glass down. Letting Lily know it wasn’t drugged—though a substance that affected Lily might not do a thing to one of the sidhe. “Would you care for some water?”

  “Thank you, yes.” No point in continuing to refuse to drink. If they wanted to drug her again, they would.

  The halfling poured for her. Lily drank thirstily, then poured herself a cup of tea. She was doing her best to channel Grandmother. Grandmother absolutely killed at the polite game when she wanted to—which, admittedly, wasn’t often, but she’d had three centuries to practice. Lily took a sip of tea. Not up to Grandmother’s standards, but it wasn’t bad. “Very nice. May I pour a cup for you?”

  “That would be kind.”

  Lily did so in the manner Grandmother had taught her. “Are we agreed that we can skip to some of the business we need to discuss?”

  “It is always a shame to curtail the more pleasant aspects of conversation, but you have a saying—‘needs must when the devil drives.’ I agree to this.”

  “I have two points of immediate concern. The first is the other two hostages. Sean Friar believes you are going to free him, unharmed.”

  “I have given him my word that I will do so, or, if I should die, my people are in turn bound to see it done.”

  “I hope you will forgive a question asked out of ignorance. Under what circumstances would you consider breaking your word?”

  “None.”

  Lily lifted her eyebrows. “None whatsoever? Not to save your life, your world, a roomful of tiny babies?”

  “I suppose if I were tortured long and artfully enough that my mind broke, the creature who remained might do any number of things I would not.” She picked up her cup and sipped. “A piquant aroma. Short of a death, which destroys the person if not the body, I honor my word.”

  “I’m happy to hear that. Did you give your word about Adam King, also?”

  “Adam King is held by Benessarai, not me, but he will act according to the code. What was your other concern?”

  “I must ask you to return my ring.”

  “Oh, surely not.” The halfling smiled at her over the rim of her teacup. “That is, surely you don’t expect me to hand you a totem containing…but your language doesn’t have a word for this. We call it arguai.”

  “Grandmother is often vexed by the limitations of English.” Lily set her cup down in the precise manner she would have used had this been a proper tea ceremony. “I called it my ring. This was misleading. The band itself is mine, but the charm on it was entrusted to me by my clan. My honor—the lupi would say du—is involved.”

  “I can assure you the ring is safe. It will not, however, be returned to you. Do try the berries. We don’t have their like in our realm, and I am quite infatuated with them.”

  Lily had learned what she needed to. The toltoi did possess some kind of power, one the elves recognized. One they thought she could use. She ate some strawberries, commented on their sweetness, and asked if Alycithin planned to include strawberries in whatever trade deal she was negotiating.

  “Perhaps, though I am not sure the plants would thrive in our climate. We are very interested in obtaining a good supply of duct tape. A remarkable substance, and one that will not be affected by the higher levels of magic in my realm the way your technology would be.”

  Duct tape? Really? Lily dragged her thoughts back on target. “Excuse me for saying this, but you seem to be going about your negotiations rather awkwardly. Sean told me that your people consider hostage-taking an integral part of doing business. You’ve been here long enough to know that we don’t do things that way. In fact, part of my job is to arrest people who do things that way.”

  That amused her. “And how long have I been here?”

  “A lot longer than two weeks, obviously. Are you able to shift between realms without a gate the way some sidhe do?”

  “You will find that my people take a long view. In the short term, your people will not appreciate some of our practices. In the long term, you will discover the value of doing business our way. Already your corporations are gratifyingly eager to import some of our wares.” Alycithin held out the plate of bread. “Won’t you try some? It’s from a bakery Dinalaran found, and is quite good.”

  Lily accepted a slice. “Is Dinalaran the one with the SIG or the one practicing spellcasting over by the TV?”

  Alycithin had eyebrows. They weren’t obvious, blending in as they did with the short, golden fur on her face, but she had eyebrows. She raised them now. �
�He stands behind my chair. Aroglian practices runic writing. You are familiar with such practice?”

  “I have a friend who fiddles with spells that way.”

  “Ah. Cullen Seabourne. The…your word is sorcerer.”

  “The guy who made the device everyone is so eager to get their hands on, yes. Though I admit I’m puzzled about why you would want it. Your Gift works a lot better than any device could.”

  Silence. One heartbeat, two…just long enough for Lily to be sure that arrow had hit home. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Lily tore a piece off the bread and popped it in her mouth. Alycithin was right—it was good bread. She washed it down with tea. “Your Gift is really good at hiding things. You can’t do outright illusion the way the elves can—that’s why Dinalaran or the other guy does the driving, isn’t it? Going unnoticed works great unless you’re in the driver’s seat of a car. It upsets people if they don’t notice a driver in a car. But in many ways, your Gift is better than straight illusion. It’s not just that you can knock everyone out, though that came in handy last night. You can baffle wards and Find spells. You can hide whatever needs to be hidden. Coming like you do from a place where magic is used for all kinds of things, that must be a very valuable talent. A very rare one, too, I’m told.”

  Alycithin tipped her head to one side. “You have been told things I did not expect anyone in this realm to know.”

  “And you have not been told some things you need to know. Like about Robert Friar and the war you’ve landed yourself in the middle of.”

  “Oh, that.” She brushed it off with a graceful gesture. “I am aware that he and your lupi consider yourselves at war. This is why he will trade what I want for you.”

  Lily took another sip of tea and prepared to roll the dice. “Your realm must be subject to Queens’ Law.” The sidhe realms had many rulers but only two queens: Winter and Summer. The queens had great power and only a fistful of laws, but when they said “thou shalt not,” they meant it.