by Shéa MacLeod
"How? It looks pretty well sealed."
"Looks can be deceiving." Jack crouched down on the other side of the stone. "You take that end. And be careful. It's heavy."
"No shit, Sherlock." I stuck my fingers through the teardrop shaped holes. They just fit.
Jack ignored my snarkiness. "Now lift."
I grunted with the effort, my arms shaking a little, but he was right. What had appeared to be grout sealing the stone in place turned out to be a clever camouflage of loose sand and clay. The stone lifted easily from its resting place. Well, as easily as a three-hundred-pound rock could lift, anyway. My back and arms gave a twinge of protest as we hauled it up and out of the hole before sliding it across the paving stones with a screech that made me shudder.
The hole was just wide enough to allow passage of an average-sized man. Unfortunately, Jack was no average-size anything. And I had hips.
I eyeballed the dark hole suspiciously. "Are you sure we're going to fit?"
"Of course. I've done it before."
I glanced up at him, startled. He'd never mentioned that little tidbit before. "When?"
"A long time ago. Now, ladies first?"
"No thanks." No way in hell was I going down there in the dark unknown first. Not with a thousand pounds of dirt between me and the sky. Not to mention, with my luck I'd get wedged in with my ass halfway through. Jack could damn well squeeze himself through that tiny little hole, and then I'd think about joining him.
With a shrug, Jack perched on the edge of the hole, legs dangling into the space beyond. Then he carefully lowered himself in. His legs, hips, and torso fit surprisingly well. It was his shoulders that were the problem. He didn't bat an eyelash. He simply maneuvered one arm through the hole with a weird ducking, twisting move, and the rest of him dropped through easily.
"All right, Morgan," he called up. "Move your ass. Moonlight's burning."
"Okay, okay." I swung my own legs into the cavity, my fingers gripping the sides of the manhole. "Moonlight's burning, my backside." I lowered myself slightly, then I let go and slid into empty space.
Chapter 32
Surprisingly, my hips fit through the manhole with only a minor amount of scraping. I'd have a lovely bruise come morning, though. The drop wasn't far, either, with Jack to catch me. He was very business-like and impersonal about touching me, which just made things more awkward than they had to be.
We were standing in a man-made tunnel. The ceiling was high enough we could both stand up easily in the space below the open manhole.
"Where are we?" I asked, gazing about as we moved deeper into the tunnel. Not that I could see a damn thing. It was pitch black away from the open manhole, and my eyes were taking their own sweet time adjusting. I wondered if using my powers too much weakened my natural abilities, or if I was just tired and needed a nap.
"The sewer system."
"Ew. Are you kidding me?" I reflexively yanked up a foot as though I could save my boots from the nastiness lurking in Paris's sewers. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"And what would you have done if I had?" From his tone, it was clear Jack didn't actually care about my answer.
"Steal somebody's rubber boots."
Jack barked a short laugh. "This is an unused part of the system. Don't worry. Anything down here has long since turned to dust."
"Wonderful," I muttered. I was standing in ancient poo. Could this day get any better?
"This way."
I wished I'd had a flashlight or something, but the only one I'd brought to France with me was a UV light. I didn't want to waste the batteries in case we ran into any vampires down in the bowels of the earth. My eyes adjusted fairly quickly as I followed Jack into the maze of tunnels that ran under the streets of Paris. We were in one of the older sections, eighteen-hundreds, maybe. The walls were made of uniformly cut stones, which arched smoothly overhead, all neatly mortared in place with as much care as if the mason had been building a palace. Somewhere nearby I could hear the trickle of water, and I caught a faint whiff of what was very much an active sewer system.
A short way up ahead, the tunnel was barred by an iron gate. The lock looked like a relic of the French Revolution or something, all big and blocky and covered in orange rust. Jack broke it easily, snapping the brittle old iron. As he pushed the gate open, the hinges creaked ominously. It was obvious no one had been this way in a very long time.
Beyond the gate lay a more modern tunnel with shiny metal pipework and caged fluorescent lights which were currently off. It was damper in this section, too; some of the walls seeping moisture. I wrinkled my nose at the stench.
"Are we there yet?"
"Almost." There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
After a few yards, the modern tunnel branched off in two directions. Jack took the right fork, me hot on his tail. The tunnel split a couple more times as it spread out beneath the city. Finally, Jack stopped at what I first mistook for a solid wall. On closer inspection, I realized there was a door in the wall. A very old door. Solid steel painted gray to blend in with the surrounding tiles. It was completely smooth without even a handle. It looked like it had been welded in place, but under the welds, I saw bumps that had once been hinges. At some point, this door had been operable.
"Now what?" I asked. The door probably weighed a ton. "Even you, oh mighty warrior, can't open this."
"No." A smile curved his lips. "But you can."
I gave him a look that spoke volumes about my assessment of his mental state. "Don't be an idiot. If you can't open that door, I sure as hell can't." Even channeling Darkness, the weight of that door would squash me flat. If I could even break it open in the first place.
His smile widened. "Morgan, have you ever seen a welder in action?"
"Only on TV. Why?" I was pretty sure watching Flashdance didn't count.
"How do they weld something in place?"
"With a... ." I stopped, mouth hanging open. Holy shit. I was an idiot. I'd totally forgotten I was a freaking human blowtorch. "You're serious? You want me to try this?"
He nodded. "Unless you can think of a better way."
I couldn't. "How did you get through it last time you were here?"
He shook his head. "That was over two-hundred years ago, Morgan. This part of the tunnel was almost brand new and in full use. I didn't need to break in."
"If I do get it open, how are we going to hold it? It must weigh a ton."
"We don't need to hold it. We just need to get out of its way."
Still I hesitated.
"You can do this. You know you can."
I wasn't so sure about that, but what the heck. I stepped closer to the door. My fingers brushed over the old metal, searching out the welded bits. Make those suckers hot enough, and they'd fall to the floor, leaving the door free to move again. As long as Jack caught it, or pulled me out before it fell on my head, this should work.
I sucked in a deep breath of sewer-scented air. "Here goes nothing."
Pressing my fingers against the bumpy spots of welded metal, I closed my eyes and reached inside myself. All my powers looked up eagerly, excited to get out, but I was only playing with Fire today. I beckoned to it to join me. It needed no further coaxing.
In a hot surge, it leapt up and out, blasting through the palm of my hand in a huge fireball. Before it could let loose, I tugged it back, squeezing it down into focus. I didn't need a huge flame, I needed precision. A needle, not a crowbar.
I lay the fingers of both hands along the weld line on one side of the door, letting the Fire through in narrow pinpoints, but as hot as it wanted. The metal under my fingertips grew hotter and hotter until I thought it might burn them right off. I pulled my hands slightly away from the metal so my skin didn't burn. Even with a small gap between me and the door, the Fire jumped eagerly from my hands, greedily eating away at the weld.
Before long, the metal began to glow. It turned cherry red and then globs of welding material began to drip from the
door. Chunks of glowing metal plopped to the floor, hissing against the moisture there.
"Good," Jack said. "Now here." He pointed to an area on the top edge of the door.
The door was low enough for me to reach if I stretched a little. Once more placing my fingertips against the weld, I willed the Fire to burn. Hotter, stronger, faster. The top weld went in half the time as the Fire inside me eagerly licked and ate at the door, hungry for more.
"Now here."
Once again I placed my fingers where he told me, wiling the Fire to do its work. My vision turned a sort of orangey yellow, as if I were looking through tinted glasses. Sweat beaded my forehead and upper lip, trickled down my back, and pooled at the base of my spine. I wasn't sure if it was from the heat, or the intensity of focus I was trying desperately to maintain. Maybe both. My muscles were shaking with fatigue, and my head was beginning to throb. My mouth felt like someone had stuffed hot cotton in it. Or week-old dirty socks.
This time, the Fire spilled over, heating not just the weld, but the metal around it. I was losing concentration, my grip on the Fire weakening. I had to hurry, or I wouldn't be able to pull it back in. Without the Marid around to stop the Fire, I'd burn out of control.
An image flashed into my mind: the dream I'd once had of another woman Kissed by Fire. The Fire had burned inside her so hotly, she'd nearly destroyed a city. Instead, she'd thrown herself off a cliff to be eaten by a dragon. Not exactly the way I wanted to go out. Besides, there weren't any dragons handy.
Forcing those images out of my head, I concentrated on the task at hand. Faster. I needed to go faster.
I gave up on focus and let the fire blast. Within seconds, a huge chunk of door had gone from cherry red to melting puddle. Good enough.
I leashed the Fire, willing it back inside me. It snarled and lashed out, wanting to keep playing, burning. It was hungry. I was hungry.
Yes, it hissed, let me free.
"No. Fucking. Way." Each word was squeezed out through gritted teeth past the utter exhaustion that nearly overwhelmed me. I sank to my knees, no longer able to stand, physically exhausted. I sensed my mind wasn't far behind.
With one last effort, I grabbed the Fire around its metaphorical throat and with what little energy I had left yanked it back inside me with the sheer brute force of my mind. I thrust it down into the place where the other powers lived and slammed the lid down tight.
The Fire safe inside me, I finally let go. Sliding completely to the floor, I curled into a fetal position. I was bathed in sweat, every muscle aching to the point of near numbness. I closed my eyes and let the blackness take me down.
Chapter 33
The world came back slowly. It was the scent that hit me first: musty and damp like everything else, but with a thread of something unusual underneath, something that didn't belong. It was spicy and exotic, fresh and green. I'd smelled it before, that odd mix of odors, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. My mind was a swirly mass of confusion.
Next came the sounds: the drip of water, the scuff of a boot against hard ground, someone muttering rude words in French. Jack. That was right. I was down in the tunnels with Jack, who had used me as a human blowtorch.
I cracked an eyelid open, waiting for the painful rush of light. Except it didn't come. It was pitch black. Almost. I frowned as I realized the darkness around me was tinged with green. As my eyes slowly adjusted, the green grew more intense. I checked myself to make sure I wasn't channeling Earth power again. I wasn't. The faint green light wasn't coming from me, but from somewhere farther down the tunnel.
"You're awake."
I shifted my head so I could see Jack, wincing as he clicked on his flashlight. "Ouch. Could you turn that thing off?"
"Sorry."
The light switched off, plunging me back into the cool, green darkness. I let out a sigh of relief.
"How are you feeling?" His voice was a low rumble near my ear.
I repressed a shiver of awareness. I may have chosen Inigo, but apparently my body hadn't entirely caught up to my mind's decision yet. I flexed my fingers and toes, checking for any twinges of pain. "My head hurts like hell, but otherwise I think I'm okay. Please don't tell me I passed out."
"Okay, I won't."
Crap. I managed to heave myself into a sitting position. I felt weak and the muscles in my arms trembled as if holding up my own weight was too much for them. "Guess that little magic trick really took it out of me."
"It's getting stronger, you know," Jack said. "Your ability to channel the magic. Each time you use it, there's more." I could almost feel him frowning in the green darkness.
"Yeah," I admitted. "I know. But there's not a hell of a lot I can do about that, is there? Thanks to the amulet, I'm now a reservoir for every single lost Atlantean superpower." I didn't add that, for every step forward in controlling those superpowers, I seemed to take two steps back. One day I'd take a step back and there'd be no more going forward.
Jack didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. He was the one who'd brought us together in the first place: the amulet and me.
Okay, that wasn't fair. It had been Darroch who'd brought the Heart of Atlantis close enough for it to sense me, but Jack would have done it if he'd had the thing in his possession. It was his life's mission to find and protect the Key. He was, after all, the Guardian.
I managed to haul myself to my feet, using the wall to keep me upright. "Where's that green light coming from?"
"Somewhere up ahead."
I frowned, holding back a sarcastic reply. Sometimes I wanted to smack that man upside the head. "Is it normal down here to have green lights?"
"Not exactly. It's usually completely dark in this part of the underground. It's not open to tourists, and it's no longer used by the sewer workers. It was sealed off years ago, so there's no need for lights."
"Interesting. I'm thinking we should check it out."
Jack grunted what sounded like agreement as we moved down the tunnel toward the glow. I was glad for the darkness, as it meant I could lean a little more heavily against the stone wall without Jack noticing and going all caveman on me.
As we rounded a corner, the glow intensified, bathing everything in rich, emerald green. The spicy, fresh scent grew stronger, too. Honeysuckle, vanilla, and cinnamon twined around the more exotic scents of hibiscus and coffee. Beneath all that was something stranger and wilder. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I was pretty sure it was nothing of this world.
The answer was obvious. "The Other World."
"What?"
"Do you smell it?" I asked.
Jack sniffed. "Some flowery thing. Are you wearing perfume?"
"Right. I just pulled out a vial while I was unconscious and started spritzing myself in the middle of the sewer." If sarcasm could kill. "That's the scent of the Other World. The land of the Sidhe."
"Down here?" Jack ignored my testiness. "How is that even possible?"
I didn't answer. I knew about as much as he did.
Moving through an archway, I stopped, Jack nearly barreling into me from behind. I held up a hand to forestall any grumbling, my eyes fixed on the vision ahead of me.
The archway opened into a small brick-walled room. Opposite was another archway leading on into the dark, but in the middle of the room, blocking the pathway, a disc hovered, suspended in midair. It swirled and shimmered, the free-floating green circle reminding me of a wormhole from one of those science fiction movies.
I stepped a little closer, feeling the tug of its energy pulling me. The scent was strongest here, emanating from the glowing disc. I could have sworn I heard the delicate sound of flutes from the other side of the disc.
"It's a portal to the Other World." I couldn't keep the awe from my voice. The previous times I'd traveled to fairy land, it had been because the queen pulled me there. I hadn't needed a portal, but I recognized it from my dream.
"A portal under the streets of Paris?" Jack sounded dubious.
"Careful, Morgan," Jack warned. "We don't know why that thing is here."
I smiled. "Oh, yes, we do. The portal is here because Alister and Darroch are hiding out with the Fairy Queen."
He seemed startled. "Why?"
"No idea. But I'm going to find out."
Between one breath and the next, I stepped through the portal.
* * *
It was as though every bone in my body was being ripped out through my skin and smashed to dust. The air was sucked from my lungs, the water sapped from my eyes. I couldn't see, couldn't breathe. Even my heart stopped, the awful pressure squeezing it until every drop of blood had leaked out, leaving an empty husk.
Then I crashed to the ground in a heap, and everything came rushing back. I sucked in a lungful of flowery scented air, coughing and choking on nothing. I pressed a fist against my chest over my heart, which was hammering so hard, I thought it might explode. I curled the fingers of my other hand into the ground, sinking them into soft soil and tender green things. Real. This was real.
I managed to roll out of the way a split second before Jack crashed to the ground exactly where I had been kneeling. I lay there in the lush green grass staring at him, willing my body to move. It ignored me.
I was able to flop over on my back, staring at the sky as Jack coughed and gasped beside me. I frowned. How odd. Unlike the sky back home, the sky of the Other World was more green than blue. Everything around me, as far as I could see, was a rich, lush green. No bright flowers or birds, just leaves and vines and bushy things. The last time I'd been to the Other World, it had looked nothing like this. It had been all black, cold marble with a vein of gold running through it. This place, on the other hand, was warm and alive.
I dragged in another deep lungful of exotic air. I could definitely smell flowers, so there must be some somewhere. Spices, too. Vanilla and coffee. Chocolate maybe. Other things I couldn't identify. But it all smelled as though a bakery had exploded and taken a florist shop with it.