“What can I do?” Finn said, his voice barely audible.
“I don’t know.” She started to pace again, thumping her fists against her hips. “You must stop, that’s all I know. If there’s no Gate, the elves can’t get through.” The elves, who had forgotten for centuries who John Grey was. But now they knew.
He turned toward her. His gaze was dark with fear. “Will you tell Dave?”
Ella buried her fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. “This isn’t something I can hide for long.”
“No.”
“Maybe he knows a way to stop it.”
“No, Ella. Please.” Finn kept shaking his head. “I won’t. I won’t sleep.”
“Ever again?” She’d laugh but he was so serious she had no doubt he’d try. She still couldn’t believe that she was staring in the face of John Grey, a being with the power to create portals through the Grey, through the Veil, between worlds.
And it was still Finn, his face drawn, his hands white-knuckled on the window sill. It wasn’t his fault, and she wasn’t throwing him to the dogs. Not if she could help it. “We’ll figure something out.”
He nodded, a jerky motion.
“First of all, we need to keep you awake,” she said, a bitterness in her mouth, in her heart, that she didn’t know how to erase. “Start with the basics. Drink coffee. Keep moving.”
She couldn’t bear to touch him. Her heart wouldn’t take it if this didn’t work, if she had to give Finn up.
If she had to choose between Finn and the world.
She brewed a full pot of coffee and all but poured it down Finn’s throat. Put rock music on the portable player she’s salvaged from her old apartment, so loud the window panes vibrated. Decided they should clean the house, get rid of the old blood smell. Finn said nothing, not a word, working hard. Sometimes she caught his eyes on her, questioning, scared, trusting. But when her hand brushed his arm, he flinched and jerked away.
God. He was hers to protect and she’d promised not to let them take him away, but now she knew exactly why they were so keen on having him — and had no clue how to protect him from his own magic.
By nightfall, Finn was rubbing his eyes and nodding off, so she offered more coffee. When she called her boss and asked about any more Gates opening, any mutilated white animals appearing, Dave said none had been reported and that they could stay home and rest that night.
Worst news ever. Not that it proved anything, but it didn’t disprove it, either.
Finn was staring at her when she flipped the phone closed. She shook her head. They had dinner in the living room, fresh sandwiches and more coffee. No matter what, though, around midnight Finn’s head started to dip forward, and that was a bad, bad idea.
“Finn, come on. We’re going for a walk.”
He blinked sleepily but let her dress him in a parka Mike had left and drag him out into the cold. The snow had melted and the sky had cleared. Stars shone against the black. They walked past bars and restaurants, past parks and the railway station, into the commercial center. Finn began to limp so badly she hauled him to a late hours cafe. He grimaced when she ordered him more coffee.
Could someone die of caffeine overdose? How strong were elven stomachs?
“So we stick to my plan?” Finn muttered, stirring sugar into his black coffee. “To keep me awake forever?”
“That’s a long time.” She gazed out the window at the happy people strolling down the street, bar-hopping. “We’ll find another solution.”
Finn rubbed at his forehead. His face was drawn and pale. One night’s sleep wouldn’t be enough to put him back on his feet, and the prospect of spending more nights awake was terrifying.
No more terrifying than the Gates opening, though.
It felt like a surrealist dream, sitting in the low-lit cafe, talking in quiet tones, like a couple on a date, instead of discussing the fate of the world.
She pulled the book from her backpack and pushed it toward him on the table. “Maybe you can help me, spot some clue that I’m missing.”
He took it, turned it over in his hands — strong, callused fingers with thin white scars — and nodded. He glanced around, checking if anyone was watching before opening his jacket and stuffing the book into the inside breast pocket. His leather shoulder holster gleamed dark against his white t-shirt and the beige gun handle curved over his ribs.
The jacket flap fell back into place, hiding gun and holster.
“You crossed a year ago,” she muttered, sipping her tea. “What changed a year ago? Why were you able to cross then and not before?”
He shifted uncomfortably and she narrowed her eyes at him.
“I entered my majority,” he said.
“At twenty-two?”
Finn shrugged.
“Is that the normal age for an aelfr to hit majority?”
“I was a couple of years late.”
Oh. “So I’m guessing entering majority means that your magic matures, right? And also...” She waved a hand, warmth climbing her neck. “Your body?”
Finn stared into his coffee. He nodded.
Interesting. Fascinating.
And quite useless. He’d crossed, and then had stopped creating Gates, at least functional ones, until...
“Oh crap. You and me.” She groaned and resisted the urge to bang her head on the table. Finn arched a brow at her, and she waved a hand at him. “The Gates didn’t work after you crossed, until you met me.”
Of course. She was the Stabilizer.
He watched her, not even breathing, a small vein in his jaw beating frantically. “You mean that you—”
“Must be why the dreams are more intense, why I can even share your memories when awake.”
He stood, bumping into the table. “I’ll leave.”
“Wait, Finn.” She scrambled upright, caught his arm. “There must be another way.” She wanted to believe it, because she couldn’t imagine a life without Finn. Didn’t want to imagine it.
Hope lit up his eyes and unable to resist any longer, she leaned forward and cupped his face, kissed his lips.
Couldn’t keep apart.
As one.
“Let’s go,” she said, suddenly aware of everyone watching. “We’ll figure this out. For every magic there’s counter-magic, right?”
She really hoped so. Meanwhile, she’d send Finn to stay in another town, another state if needed, and see if the Gates stopped forming. It could buy them time — or could solve the problem altogether.
***
On the way back home, she slipped in a puddle of melting slush, and found Finn’s arm around her waist. When she straightened, he didn’t let go. Warmth radiated from him, through his jacket, heating up her skin. They continued like that, bodies pressed together, steps synchronized, to the entrance of the building. Then she fumbled with the keys and he moved away, leaving her cold.
No, she couldn’t be without him, without his warmth, his faint smiles, his familiar glare. Just the thought felt like someone was ripping her heart out of her chest.
Sending him away would be a temporary solution, she told herself as they rode up. She reached for his hand, tangled her fingers with his, felt him relax. Until she found a real solution.
Moonlight fell through the windows of the living room, painting the old sofa and table silver. Finn closed and locked the door and followed her inside, in the soft darkness.
He stopped. “Someone’s here.”
The light came on, making Ella gasp.
Dave entered the room, two men at his back.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Her hand went to the grip of her gun, always at her hip.
“I asked if I could trust you. I think there’s something you forgot to tell me.”
Finn’s eyes flicked to the exits — doors, windows. His hand reached into his jacket for his gun.
“Finn, wait.” Ella sucked a sharp breath. “Dave, just say what you came to—”
Dave drew a semiautoma
tic, fitted with a silencer, and raised it.
Oh fuck. “Down, Finn!” She threw herself at Dave as he fired.
The sound crashed like a jackhammer, deafening her. Dave shoved her off and she staggered, turning around.
Time stopped.
Finn lay flat on his back, face slack, a crimson stain spreading on his white t-shirt. She couldn’t find the breath to speak. Her knees couldn’t hold her; she began to slide down and grabbed hold of the back of an armchair to stay upright.
Lifting his gun, Dave took a step toward Finn.
That broke Ella from her paralysis. She jerked forward, grabbed Dave’s hand and twisted it.
A shot went off, smashing into the window across the room, raining shards. Ella let go of Dave and covered her face with her arm.
Dammit.
The glass tinkled around them, then silence fell.
Ella uncovered her face and frowned. “You bastard, you...” She glanced back at Finn who lay still on the floor and the words failed her. God, Finn... She’d failed him, just like she’d failed Simon. “He gave me all the information he has about his race. He wanted to fight on our side, damn you!”
And it was too late. What use did words have now?
“Stay out of this,” Dave said, pushing past her toward Finn’s sprawled form.
Her heart boomed, and her hands clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms, tiny sparkles of pain. “The fuck I will.”
In one move, she swept his feet from under him. He fell with a thump and she straddled his back, pinning his hand with the gun to the floor. He bucked under her, but a chop to his hand released his hold on the gun and she took it away. Reversing it, she pressed the gun mouth to his neck, pressed hard until he stilled.
Footsteps sounded on her left and she whipped her own gun up. The two men Dave had brought with him stopped moving.
“Get out of here”, she rasped. “And close the door behind you.” A sob wracked her and coolness spilled down her cheeks. Damn them all to hell.
They backed away, raising their guns. She waited until the door closed before turning her gaze back to Dave.
“This isn’t a joke, Ella,” he muttered, his voice strangled. “He’s John Grey, opening Gates, about to cause this world to be invaded. Keep out of this.”
“Shut up.” Speaking hurt her chest. She couldn’t breathe. It was as if she’d been the one shot. “Just shut up. My hand isn’t steady and my mind not made up yet whether to kill you now or later.”
“Ella...” Dave had stopped struggling. “Calm down. I know this is hard for you.”
Oh now he was concerned? Fuck him. Anger sent her heart slamming against her ribs, her blood pounding in her ears. It made her hands tremble — and cleared her eyes so that she saw a darkness spread down Dave’s throat and inside — spirals and clockwork, spinning and whirring.
Oh shit.
Her gorge rose. She fell off him, scrambling backward, her breath caught short. To see the seam of the Guardians, Mike had said, she needed to be in an altered state — but it wasn’t fear or alcohol that did the trick. It was anger. Mind-blanking fury.
Dave sat up carefully and she raised the gun, pointing at him. Would a bullet kill him if she took the shot? Could anything kill him?
“You’re a...” She couldn’t even say it. The seam running from Dave’s head to his polished shoes was already blurring, fading as shock replaced her anger. “A goddamn Duergr, a fucking Guardian.” She had to swallow down bile before she threw up. “You killed Finn.”
Dave wasn’t looking at her, as if not caring that his true identity was known. He stared at a point behind her. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
She got up slowly, her limbs uncoordinated and heavy, and turned.
Blood had pooled on the floor and fat crimson drops led to the open window. She blinked, unable to process what she saw.
Finn wasn’t there.
Vaguely aware of Dave shouting for the two officers, Ella gathered her scattered wits and stumbled to the window to look outside. Five stories. And Finn was shot and bleeding.
Frigid air stung her wet cheeks as she leaned out and stared down to the street, then up. No sign of him.
Finn was gone.
THE END of EPISODE FOUR
The Truth
Episode 5
Nine worlds hang on Ygdrasil, shaken by the giants
the asas mend the threads of worlds,
the dwarves guard mighty portals
the aesir drink, the dark elves weave,
the light elves wage war.
In a familiar hall I stand
far from the sun, on a strand of dead bodies
where venom drips and serpents slither.
My dreams are heavy.
I shall endure the ache and sorrow,
I shall not lay down my arms.
Anger and fury have their uses,
children of my pain.
Chapter One
Dark
Ella held her head, hunched over on the couch. “You shot Finn,” she muttered, not too loud, in case her skull split apart.
“And you stopped me from finishing him and let him escape,” Dave grumbled. “That’s obstruction of justice. Not to mention assault on your superior.”
“I’m an officer of the law.”
“And I’m your boss!” Dave was wearing a hole in the carpet, pacing up and down the living room.
“My boss.” She wanted to throw up. “You’re a robot. You’re not even human.”
“Neither is he.”
His admission changed nothing; it was simply a confirmation of what she’d feared, and it paled in the face of what had just happened.
A pool of blood by the window — Finn’s blood — drew her eye. She felt sick. “He was under your payroll. Someone will wonder what happened to him.”
“He held a temporary position. In a secret bureau. Without papers. His traces have already been erased.”
“Erased.” The word tasted bitter. “He’s my partner and he was doing his best. He had no idea he was causing the Gates. I’m sure there’s another way to fix this.”
“Yeah. Not sleeping. And how long did you think that would last? A day? Two?”
He’d listened in to their discussions. What else had he overheard? Maybe he’d already connected the dots, known she was the reason the Gates held.
“If it’s magic, there must be counter-magic,” she whispered. “Stands to reason. It’s what the tales tell us.”
“So you’d depend on fairytales for a solution?”
“He’s an elf, if it escaped your attention. Fairytales might just be the best source of information we have.” She glanced at the window Finn had used to escape. “And you’re a fucking duergr. A Guardian. A dwarf.” A pretty tall one, too. “How come you didn’t know John Grey was a Light elf? How on earth didn’t you know how the Gates open? What crappy sort of Guardian are you anyway?”
“I’ve been stranded here since the Middle Ages,” Dave grunted. “Some knowledge got lost, obviously. Now, where is he?”
“I told you, I have no idea.” Ella rubbed her forehead. She had an idea, in fact, unless Finn had more friends than he’d admitted to. It all depended on how mobile he was. Probably too stubborn to stop moving even if he was dying. “He never said anything. I bet he wasn’t expecting to be brought down by his own team.”
Dave didn’t wince in the slightest at the barb. Bastard. “I’ll do another sweep of the block. Don’t even think about moving from here.”
Ella watched him go with the two officers. She didn’t think Finn would be coming back to her. The look of betrayal on his face when Dave had walked in had told her all she needed to know: Finn was sure she’d given him up. The only direction he’d be running now would be away from her.
That hurt. But what hurt more was the knowledge that he might be dying and she couldn’t go look for him while Dave breathed down her neck.
Fuck.
Jumping to he
r feet, she walked to the window. She’d seen Finn climb buildings like a spider before. At least she knew he hadn’t fallen to his death — the body would have been found immediately.
Would he board a bus to Jamesville to Norma Jones, the woman he’d spoken of? Or was he bleeding his life out in some alley?
With a growl, she turned to pace the living room. She hated that Dave made sense. Killing Finn would be the easiest solution — close all Gates, avoid the invasion. Problem solved.
But killing people — elves — wasn’t a solution. Killing Finn, dammit. And now Dave had sent him running, perhaps back to his own world. What if his dead mother or her doppelganger beckoned once more? What solution would Finn see other than return home?
By taking the easy path, Dave had made things worse. Before, they’d been sure Finn was on their side — but what about now?
Cursing, she turned to grind another furrow in her floor, when the door banged open.
Finn?
Hope died at once. Dave was back, his scowl dark. “Gone like a puff of smoke. I hoped the wound would slow him down. But it wouldn’t, would it? Bloody elf.”
Ella shrugged. Nothing short of passing out would stop Finn. “How the hell did you realize he’s John Grey?”
“Followed the half-formed Gates, asked around to find out if he’d been there. Then there was the connection to you: a Stabilizer. And bingo.”
She winced. How on earth was she performing this stabilizing trick? What was the connection to her sharing Finn’s dreams? She’d obviously done it since she was little, even though she didn’t remember. Finn hitting his majority had obviously changed the way that worked.
“There has to be a way to neutralize his magic.” But who could she ask? “If I’m the Stabilizer, why didn’t you kill me?”
“Don’t give me ideas,” Dave snapped. “I don’t need to kill you. There are many Stabilizers out there. Only one John Grey.”
Huh. Disappointed you’re not unique, Ella? “So why did you take notes on me?”
“I took notes on all of them.” He shook his head. “Didn’t help one bit in finding him.”
Boreal and John Grey Season 1 Page 33