by RJ Blain
Instead, the ocean flooded the city—a real city, one free of red stone. Skyscrapers stretched towards the churned sky, and the storm intensified as though the loss of the crystal infuriated it.
I lifted my left hand and touched the Hope Diamond, my breath catching in my throat. The pounding surf deafened me, but no matter how many times I blinked and shook my head to dispel the illusion, Fort Lauderdale existed, freed from the crystal entombing it and its inhabitants.
Had Abraham and Edmund Fitzgerald survived? If the Hope Diamond could reverse the magic holding an entire city hostage in red stone, could it also bring the dead back to life?
Had it brought me back to life?
I trembled, staring at the city with wide eyes. A hundred feet separated me from where the red stone had once engulfed the land. Within an hour, even at my slow and unsteady pace, I would reach the outskirts. If I remembered correctly, I’d find the first car not far from the ruined town, although both the vehicle and ruins were likely lost to the raging sea. Until the ocean calmed, I was stuck on my little knoll. The swelling surf formed currents able to suck rocks and metal into its embrace, and I had no doubt if I let them, they’d sweep me away, too.
Without water I could drink, anything to eat, and my shoulder a mess, it wouldn’t matter if the Hope Diamond had brought me back to life. I’d die. I had no idea how long I’d spent at the supposed temple, but if I start moving, soon I wouldn’t be able to.
Death from drowning because I failed to reach higher, safer ground beat a slow death of dehydration or starvation—or infection. I got to my feet using the pool’s ledge for balance, lifted my chin, and picked a path to challenge the ocean, leaving my broken katana behind.
The knoll would serve well enough as its grave.
If I’d been able to use my right arm, I would have girded my skirt so it wouldn’t catch in the water, but I couldn’t manage it with one hand. I still had my boots; the salt water would ruin them, but I could stash the stiletto against my calf. The task reminded me how much weight I’d lost since leaving Charlotte.
I’d be a long time healing.
I somehow made it from the knoll to the next islet without incident, stopping to catch my breath. The water was so cold it numbed me from head to toe, but given the choice between pain and hypothermia, I preferred shivering hard enough my teeth clacked together and stiffness plagued my muscles and joints.
When I thawed, I’d hurt, but I’d cross that bridge when I reached it.
What had once been crystal roads beside the sea became dark asphalt. The ocean didn’t dare to encroach on the city. Something held the water back, something invisible and powerful enough to thwart the tides. The waves slammed against the barrier, and while I could walk through it, it kept water-swept debris out.
A few unlucky fish flopped on the ground, and taking pity on them, I shoved my boot beneath them and launched them into the air, hoping their haphazard flight into the water wouldn’t hurt them. A chance to survive beat dying on dry land, and I couldn’t quite force myself to abandon them to their fate.
I stopped counting the number of fish I punted back into the sea after twenty. The first shark I encountered, however, snapped its teeth at me, and I gaped at it while it thrashed beside the barrier. At a little over a foot long, it didn’t scare me, although I didn’t want to find out what it could do to me with its teeth. I jammed my boot behind one of its fins and nudged it towards the barrier. It took several hard pushes, which made my shoulder throb, to shove it back into the ocean where it belonged.
It darted away and disappeared into the water.
“What on Earth?”
I shrieked, whirled, and because I had no idea who the man behind me was, I sucked in a breath and roared. The motion and the rumbling in my chest conspired to wake the agony in my shoulder. The moment the blood rushed out of my head, I realized I was going down like it or not. I staggered, stumbling through the invisible barrier. The water slammed into my back and shoved me forward. I hit the asphalt knee first before planting my palms on the ground. My right shoulder gave out, and I shifted my weight to my left side.
Agony blinded me, but I clung to consciousness, panting in to regain control of myself. I shuddered and blinked away the tears in my eyes.
“Jesus, you all right, ma’am?” A pair of shoes stepped into view, and I stared at them, trying to focus my blurred vision. They shined and were black, reminding me of the shoes Randal, Simmons, and the rest of the Secret Service wore.
“Just dandy,” I croaked. After giving my head a good shake, partly to clear my thoughts and brace for the pain, I stood without any help and let out a relieved breath.
“You all right? I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I turned my head to look the man over.
His black suit, white shirt, and black tie screamed Secret Service, as did the pin on his lapel, which depicted the American flag. My gaze went to his ear, which lacked the comm units I expected on agents in Charlotte. “Just dandy,” I repeated.
The man spent a moment looking me over, too, and his eyes locked on my throat while his mouth dropped open. “That’s…”
I sucked in a breath. “Can you get the damned thing off me?” I turned and presented my back to him. “Please!”
“I could swear that looks a lot like the Hope Diamond, but it’s in Washington…”
Pre-Starfall and before Fort Lauderdale’s fall, the diamond had been in Washington. The crystal city lived, and the man’s words confirmed it.
For better or worse, Abraham and Edmund Fitzgerald had gotten exactly what they wanted. Worse still, they could be alive somewhere, waiting to move against my aunt, the rightful President of the United States.
“Can you get it off?” I whispered.
The man’s hands burned my chilled skin as he tugged at the diamond-encrusted necklace circling my throat. “It’s stuck.”
“Well, shit.” I sighed. “Later, then. You’re in the Secret Service, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
I moved carefully, turning to face him. “Were you a part of the advance motorcade?”
While I still struggled with the idea cars had worked in Florida before the Starfall burst had frozen the city, I remembered what Randal had told me.
The agent’s eyes widened, and with speed beyond what I had anticipated, he pulled a gun on me, pointing it at my forehead. “What do you know about that?”
“Go ahead. Fire,” I challenged, knowing full well the gun wouldn’t work unless he got really lucky. The weapon gave a click when he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. I smiled, lifted my left hand, and set it on the barrel, lowering the weapon. “Fort Lauderdale is no longer a combustion zone. Few places are. You, most of your motorcade, and Fort Lauderdale were caught in a Starfall burst. It froze the city.”
The man’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. “How long has it been frozen?”
Fort Lauderdale hadn’t been wiped out at Starfall; the residents should have known something about magic, although their city had been one of the last ones to lose cars and general access to combustion. “It’s been a while.”
The agent swallowed again. “How long is a while?”
I hoped my words wouldn’t break the man. “President Miller is currently serving her eighth term as President of the United States. She was elected in November of 1992 when the government announced President Wilson had been in Fort Lauderdale at the time of the Starfall burst responsible for encasing the city in crystal.”
“A woman is the President?” Shock blanked the man’s face.
Of all the things to be worried about, the Secret Service agent was thrown by the fact the President was a woman? I stared at him. “She’s a grizzly bear, sir. She’s a very effective leader. The First Gentleman is a cottontail rabbit.”
If female President bothered him, I decided I wouldn’t inform him the First Gentleman was a black man—or that the President herself was part Native American and part Mexican
. If her gender bothered him, the rest probably would, too.
“All right. So shifters have risen to power?”
“If it makes you feel any better, President Miller was reelected with a ninety percent majority.”
“Ninety percent?” the Secret Service agent choked out.
“I’m Runs Against Wind, a courier out of Cheyenne. Do you remember a man named Agent Randal?”
“Randal’s alive?”
“Before I got caught up in this mess, I was his principal.” My gesture took in the Hope Diamond and the lack of red stone around me, as well as the invisible barrier keeping the sea from overwhelming Fort Lauderdale. “Were you alone? Separated from the advanced motorcade?”
“Dereks. Gerald Dereks. I was on my motorcycle. We were going to switch from our vehicles to horseback not far from here.” With a blank expression, the man turned in a slow circle. “What year is it?”
I tensed, ready to catch him if he fell over from shock. “2025.”
“Jesus.”
“Washington sank not long after Fort Lauderdale was destroyed. The Smithsonian and the National Archive were moved to Charlotte, North Carolina. Richmond, Virginia became the new seat of power, but the President recently changed her residence to Charlotte. She’s currently staying in the mayoral palace along with Charlotte’s mayor.”
“Charlotte? It’s still a wreck…”
“Was. They rebuilt. The mayoral palace is in the Starfall crater. The city now thrives and is the central hub of the United States.” I hesitated, and Dereks nodded for me to continue. “I know a lot of things have changed.”
“You’re one of those animal people, too, aren’t you?”
“Shifter,” I corrected. “And nowadays, if you aren’t an ‘animal people’ as you call us, you’re a mystic. Everyone’s something.”
“I’m not. No one in the Secret Service is.”
I arched both of my brows. “Not anymore. Both of my agents are shifters. Randal is a panther. I’m not actually sure what Simmons is.”
“Simmons is still alive?”
“Sure. He and Randal are phasing out of the service. They were in the Presidential detail until recently. I was their last assignment, as far as I know. They may have retired by now. I left Charlotte about two months ago.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth about Abraham Adams or Edmund Fitzgerald. If Dereks had known either one of them, I didn’t want to be the one to break the news they were traitors to him. “I’m sorry. I’m bad at this. Guns won’t work anymore, not unless you’re really lucky or in a combustion zone, which are few and far between. No one carries guns anymore. We use swords and other weapons now. Fire’s unreliable at best unless you have the right Starfall stone or you’re in a zone.”
“Jesus. You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I braced for the agony, lifted my left hand, and yanked my blouse away from my right shoulder to reveal the wound. “A gun didn’t cause this.”
Dereks’s gaze locked on the wound, and he closed the distance between us, one hand gripping my upper right arm. The other pushed my left hand away, and he inspected the gash, his eyes narrowing. “Broken clavicle for certain, likely a shattered shoulder blade. Someone hit you with a great deal of force, ma’am. You need medical attention.”
I recognized a habit when I saw it; the agent had gone from stunned to controlling, probably due to his experiences in the Secret Service. “I’ll be fine.”
“You said you were Randal’s principal.”
“I was.”
“When were you officially notified your detail was revoked?”
“I wasn’t. I was transferred temporarily to a different agent, and they—”
“Service rules, ma’am. You’re under an active detail, and you’re alone. That makes your safety the responsibility of any available agent. Since I’m the only available agent, that’s me.”
While I wanted to argue, I surrendered with a sigh. “You’ll need a mystic, and they’ll be busier trying to help those in Fort Lauderdale as soon as they realize the city was revived. For now, I hurt, but I’m fine. As long as I’m still breathing, a mystic can probably piece me back together with enough time. If it’s really bad, they’ll send me by train to Charlotte to a hospital in the tech ward.”
“Trains work?” Dereks blurted.
I stared at him. “You have a gun you thought you could use, you rode in a car, but you can’t believe trains work?”
“Train service failed after Starfall. In 1992, only a few routes worked, and they were unreliable.”
“Most major cities are linked into the train network now. They’re mystic powered and don’t rely on combustion technology.”
“I see I have a lot to learn. You seem to know what you’re about. Lead the way. Where do you suggest we go?”
I relaxed, sighing my relief. Dereks seemed, by nature, a reasonable person. “Fort Lauderdale. Until the storm subsides, hopping the islets is a death wish.”
“Islets? What islets?”
Turning, I pointed beyond the barrier to what used to be mainland Florida. “Florida sank, Agent Dereks. Everything south of Jacksonville is connected islets and islands, with the Everglades being the largest surviving landmass. When—if—this barrier drops, Fort Lauderdale will likely fall into the sea, too. Luckily for everyone here, saltwater doesn’t bother ruby a lot.”
Dereks gaped at me, his face turning a sickly gray-green. “You’re really serious.”
I grimaced and lowered my head. “I’m sorry. I’m really bad at this. I told you too much too soon, didn’t I?”
“No,” he snapped. “Never. I may not like it, but the truth is always best.”
Would he believe me if I told him about Abraham Adams and Edmund Fitzgerald? I wasn’t brave enough to find out. Instead, I turned towards Fort Lauderdale and braced for the inevitable collision of the present and the past.
Chapter Fifty-Five
It didn’t take long to reach Dereks’s motorcycle. While some people in Charlotte owned bicycles, most relied on horses. I stared at the machine, marveling the thing had somehow worked even after Starfall. Logically, I understood Fort Lauderdale had been the last populated combustion zone, but I’d only seen the vehicles within their crystal prisons.
How many times had I passed Dereks on my way across Florida without really noticing him? His motorcycle rested on the side of the road. Nearby, I spotted several black cars. The crystal imprisoning the city had turned everything red, and although I had understood the statues had been real people until the Starfall burst, reality slammed into me and stole my breath.
“The rest of the motorcade died,” Dereks whispered, staring at the line of vehicles ahead. “I checked them first. They hadn’t been dead long. There are first aid kits in the car. I can at least get your shoulder cleaned and stitched before you bleed to death.”
It amazed me he could speak in such a calm and collected voice, and unwilling to argue with a man facing the loss of everything he knew, I followed in his wake without saying a word. I appreciated his warning of the dead within the cars. I was used to those who died by the sword, but seeing six men sitting within the vehicles, so freshly dead they seemed asleep, soured my stomach.
Magic worked in mysterious ways, and I didn’t understand how Dereks had survived while his fellow agents had died. The bodies warned me of worse to come, which made me want to turn around, wade through the high waters, and find a hole to crawl into until the storm blew over and everything returned to normal—or as normal as the post-Starfall world got.
I’d be waiting a long time.
According to Dereks’s watch, which amazingly still worked, it took over an hour to deal with my shoulder. I fainted twice during the process, but the pain woke me up after knocking me flat, although I suspected the man wished I’d stayed unconscious.
He seemed the type to prefer mercy over suffering, even though he had been willing to pull the trigger of his gun before learning he held a useless artifact
. Maybe he didn’t like making others suffer, but he was still dangerous—and willing to kill.
In my hands, the weapon would work, but I didn’t want him to know that.
None of the deceased Secret Service agents had swords, and I muttered under my breath about it, which caught Dereks’s attention.
“What is it you need?”
“A sword. Mine broke.”
“Can’t offer you a sword, but will this do?” Dereks reached into the trunk and pulled out a black baton with a grip. “If you hit someone with this puppy, they won’t forget it anytime soon.”
I took the weapon in my left hand, and its weight startled me. If I had the strength to get some force behind it, I could probably crush someone’s skull. “Better than nothing. Thanks.”
“You’re used to being armed. Why? I thought you said you’re a courier.”
“I am. The roads can get pretty dangerous if you’re not careful, and most people can’t afford to send their mail by train, so they hire riders instead, especially for short distances.”
“On horseback.”
I hoped my mare had gotten away from the coastline when the storm hit. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a small horse, maybe fourteen hands tall, bare-skinned, and no mane, have you?”
“What the hell kind of horses do you ride?”
“She’s sick and abused. I was…” I swallowed and cleared my throat. “I was going to nurse her back to health.”
“No, I haven’t seen any horses, sick or otherwise. Sorry.”
“Not your fault.” If the fault belonged to anyone, it belonged to me. Despite my best intentions and all my efforts, Abraham and Edmund Fitzgerald had won, resurrecting the crystal city and likely themselves thanks to the Hope Diamond’s powers. The Starfall stone around my neck weighed more than I thought it should, and I lifted my hand to touch the polished jewel.
Its smooth surface chilled my fingertips.