Summer sprinted to us, tossed Pamela her discarded palmquell, and swung around to fire at approaching drones. She looked like a Native American Wonder Woman, her stance wide and confident, her expression fierce as she protected us. Whatever organization the drones had possessed disintegrated, and they disbanded, scattering beyond the range of Summer’s lux lucis.
I sat up, ignoring the throbbing of my back, and massaged my numb thigh, using my right hand to purposely jerk Pamela off balance. If she thought she could lock herself to me and call the shots, she was in for a nasty surprise.
Rolling to a crouch, I prepared to drag the inspector to my palmquell. She shocked me when she pocketed her weapon and retrieved a tiny key. Without saying a word or meeting my eyes, Pamela undid the cuff from my wrist, then from her own.
I snatched the metal bands from her loose grip and chucked them over the fence. They hit the pool water with a soft plop and sank out of sight in the deep end. Jaw fused, I glowered at Pamela, daring her to say something. She looked away first, but only to shoot a drone barreling down on me. Anger simmering hot enough to counter the frigid creep of wet mud down my backside, I hobbled to collect my palmquell, then my pet wood.
Not waiting for Pamela’s instructions, I stomped across frozen, dead leaves to the nearest oak. Summer and Pamela followed, each of us giving the other space as we recharged from the massive tree’s freely given lux lucis. Pamela took the largest draw, but the old tree’s bright white trunk didn’t so much as flicker at the energy loss. I rubbed my back against the trunk, scraping mud from my jacket, then bent and swiped the back of my legs against the rough bark. The abrasive surface proved better at removing wet mud than my gloves, but it did nothing to counter the chill.
The tyv had disappeared during the attack, and with buildings blocking our view and so many drones choking the sky, we couldn’t tell which direction she’d gone. Fortunately, we had an airborne spy.
“She’s beyond that building, moving east,” our prajurit scout said, pointing across the pool. “Clan Hujan Gembira requests additional supplies.”
“I’ll see they get them.” Pamela fired off a short text to Brad even as she continued to speak. “Stay hidden. The drones are behaving peculiarly.”
The prajurit saluted and launched from the branch in the opposite direction as the tyv.
“Stick together,” Pamela said.
I glared at her back and took the opposite path around the pool.
We jogged up a gently sloping road lined with covered parking, our eyes on the rooftops, slowing only when forced to defend ourselves from wayward drones. Even then, I maintained a steady walk and still hit my targets, each kill a vindication countering Pamela’s low opinion of me.
As we drew alongside the building where the tyv roosted, a battery of drones dropped in a tight formation, attacking from directly above. Clustered together, they should have been easy targets, but the moment we started shooting, they scattered, only to regroup to my left, closer than before. A bristle of soul-devouring, control-stealing proboscises jabbed toward me. I fired again, my white bullets accompanied by Pamela’s and Summer’s. Between us, we killed seven drones, but the rest flared wide, twisting as fast as a school of piranhas to charge from a new direction. Their attacks were growing in sophistication, and it was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed us again.
Acorns popped underfoot as we dashed to an oak and spun, putting our backs to the trunk. The drones might have been invisible to normal people, but they had enough substance to prevent them from passing through solid matter. With the network of limbs curtailing a bold attack from above, they were forced into head-on rushes beneath the branches, and they died en masse before reaching us.
“I’ve never heard of drones coordinating like this,” Summer said during a lull.
“They’re not acting alone,” Pamela said. “The pooka must be behind this.”
I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but I’d been thinking the same thing. Jamie had helped the tyv and drones the last two nights, disguising their activities from us. It stood to reason he could communicate with them. Maybe he could teach the drones or at least give them orders they’d respond to.
Or maybe he led them.
I stared up at the sky full of flying creatures with dawning horror. Jamie couldn’t be a drone, could he? Human, dog, mammoth—all his other forms were solid, tangible, and visible to normal people. I’d been envisioning his fourth form as something like an evil prajurit, small enough to be overlooked by norms yet with physical form. But an insubstantial drone . . . ?
It fit. It explained how he’d been able to trail me across the city without attracting attention. It could explain why I hadn’t spotted him tonight despite knowing he was close. Where better for a dual-energy pooka to hide than among lux lucis–carrying drones? Was it really such a stretch of the imagination to accept he could have a nonmaterial form? He changed shapes. His very existence defied the laws of physics, so why couldn’t his body refute basic cellular density, too?
I cursed my own stupidity and started looking for a drone calling the shots.
If he’s here and we encounter each other— I cut off the thought. I couldn’t allow myself to dwell on Jamie’s prophecy.
Aside from variations in size and negligible differences in levels of lux lucis lighting up their abdomens, all the drones looked alike. My best chance of pinpointing Jamie was through the process of elimination. I dismissed the drones arriving from far afield and those departing, just as I dismissed the grunts assisting the tyv’s flights. To command his troops, Jamie would need to remain close to the attacking drones, and he wouldn’t want to be distracted by carting around the tyv every time she flew to a new chimney. He also wouldn’t behave like a normal drone. They flew in an aimless, agitated cloud, but he would move with purpose. Which narrowed my focus to the drones swirling at the bottom of the flock, especially those that dipped low enough to feed on us.
I rubbed the crick in my neck, smearing mud on my scarf. The perpetual motion of the drones made it impossible to keep track of which I’d eliminated from my pool of suspects, and after ten minutes of making myself dizzy spinning in circles beneath the oak’s branches, I decided I needed to change strategies.
The tyv launched for the next roof, her bulk dwarfing her small contingent of support drones. To follow her, we had to brave a parking lot and tennis court, both lacking convenient cover. If Jamie was going to organize another coordinated strike, it would be then.
I jogged out from under the tree with Pamela and Summer. I needed to force Jamie to reveal himself, and I couldn’t do that by acting predictably. So instead of raising my palmquell and sighting on the nearest drones, I tucked the weapon and my hand into my pocket. Unable to leave myself completely defenseless, I grasped the middle of the pet wood and raised it above my head, holding it horizontal. A gentle push channeled lux lucis down all three feet of the slender rod. The wand wouldn’t deter a drone attack, but at least they’d have a hard time jabbing me without receiving a deadly wallop of lux lucis. As ready as I’d ever get, I planted my feet and tipped my face to the sky.
“What are you doing?” Summer asked, stopping in front of me.
“Give me a minute. I need to concentrate.”
“Figure out how to concentrate and walk at the same time,” Pamela snapped.
I let her words wash over me and focused on spotting the drone that didn’t belong. The last thing I needed was another impulsive fight with the inspector spawned by the confluence of a stray thought and a drone bite.
The riotous mass of insect bodies split, the underbelly of the swarm branching into tight lines that descended like enormous spider legs uncurling from the pulsing body. My heart pattering in my chest, I spun in a slow circle, scanning the oncoming drones, looking for any anomalies among them. My fist tightened around the palmquell, but I didn’t draw it. If struck, I wouldn’t have the wherewithal to divide my attention between killing drones and lookin
g for Jamie. I sucked in a harsh breath, vulnerability running weightless fingers through my midsection.
“Bloody hell. Is it the bond?” Pamela asked. “Madison, talk to me.”
Jamie. Jamie. I mentally chanted his name, aligning all my thoughts to fire on that single desire: Find Jamie.
The lead drones zoomed into range. I scanned their foreign faces, seeing no trace of intelligence in their mesh eyes, feeling no hint of recognition. The drone on my right adjusted its flight to aim its arm-length proboscis at my chest. I locked my knees and elbow, holding my idiotic stance like a parody of the Statue of Liberty, unable to tear my gaze from the sharp tip of the drone’s mouth. It will only hurt, not kill me. My internal chant faltered, degrading to meaningless syllables, and I bounced to my toes, preparing to run—
Bursts of white light streaked over my head, and the drone exploded. The one behind it veered wide, missing me by several feet. Summer and Pamela closed around me, firing into the descending hordes. Letting out a shaky breath, I stood like an antenna between them and wrestled with my instincts. Fighting or fleeing made sense. Standing still took extreme concentration.
Find Jamie.
Drones bore down on us, unflinching and unfazed by the lux lucis bullets tearing into them. Their mindless flight paths eliminated them from the possibility of being Jamie in disguise. Tearing my gaze away, I spun to track two drones that dodged bullets, darted overhead, and swung back for a second pass.
Which one of you is not like the others? I sang in my head, the old Sesame Street song at odds with the silent battle raging around us.
Pain jabbed through my torso, quick as a whip crack. The sting hadn’t faded before a second lash cut across my shoulders. Find Jamie. I darted my gaze from one drone to the next, categorizing patterns among the chaotic sky. There, the fastest dodgers. They tended to zigzag as they retreated, not looping back until they were beyond range of our bullets. There, the opportunists. They drafted off two or more larger drones, only exposing themselves once they were near enough to feed.
A bolt of pain stabbed through my neck and into my lung, stiffening my spine. I sucked in oxygen, barely getting a breath before the next strike took me through the heart and another spiked across my forehead. Panting, I squinted to see around the heavy black-and-white abdomens filling my vision, shuddering as another whip crack vibrated through my soul. As fast as they’d surrounded me, the drones zipped heavenward, disappearing back into the seething cloud.
Not Jamie. He would have remained near the bottom to monitor the attack.
Which one of you is not like the others?
There! One drone hovered in place, only for a moment, but the anomalous behavior might as well have shouted, I’m different! Fixated, I sprinted after it.
I saw the chain-link fence a second before I crashed into it. My forehead smacked against the metal, setting off a gong inside my head. I stumbled backward, vision dancing. The chiming rattle of the fence muffled the sound of ripped cloth, and cold air seeped into my jeans above my knee. The pet wood tangled with the metal mesh and I twisted it free. Through it all, I didn’t—couldn’t—take my eyes off the drone I suspected to be Jamie.
It darted back in the opposite direction, and I whirled to follow. A sheet of fluid atrum and lux lucis blanketed my vision, resolving into a cluster of drones. They converged on me, feeding in agonizing jabs as I staggered after the Jamie drone.
Bright white bullets cut across my vision.
“Come on, Madison. Fight back. At least use your wand.” Exertion turned Pamela’s soft British accent harsh. Footsteps pounded closer, and the volley of bullets doubled. The drones around me exploded into thick atrum glitter. Holding my breath, I ran through it, afraid of losing sight of maybe-Jamie.
The drone pivoted on a wingtip to face me. Staring across the thirty feet of pavement separating us, I hunted for a sign of the pooka hiding in the skin of this drone. The battle receded, unimportant, and not even Pamela speaking so close to my ear that her breath disturbed strands of my hair broke my concentration.
I need proof. My left hand jerked from my pocket and extended, palmquell in my fist, bullets flying before I’d finished the thought.
The drone rocketed toward me, taking five hits to its bulky abdomen. It didn’t dodge or weave. I’d misjudged. Jamie would be smart enough to avoid being hit. I unloaded another volley into the rushing drone. All seven shots hit, and it kept coming.
My eyes widened. The sixth shot should have killed it. No drone could survive twelve powerful slugs of lux lucis.
“Jamie.” His name slid from me on an exhale of relief and disbelief. I’d found him.
I’d shot him.
Had the bullets hurt him?
Jamie bore down on me, the bright dot of my reflection swelling in the hundred facets of his enormous insect eyes. I threw my arms wide, not sure if I was trying to stop him or hug him, and he hesitated.
Time stood still while I soaked in the sight of him.
Now that I knew what to look for, I could discern subtle differences between my pooka and normal drones. His mixed-soul abdomen gleamed with the density of his powerful energy, his ebony atrum glossy instead of matte, his lux lucis pure and undiluted. Proportionally, he resembled his Great Dane form, his segmented body as thick as a dog’s and his legs just as long, though toothpick thin. The gossamer blur of his wings was both wider and thicker than his drone counterparts, as if he needed more aerial power to compensate for his greater metaphysical bulk. Of all his drone features, his proboscis seemed the most true to form. Longer than my arm and dreadfully sharp, it poised in line with my heart as Jamie assessed me.
I searched his foreign features, looking for some hint of his feelings.
White bullets streaked through the air, pummeling his side. Jamie darted over me, dragging the tip of his proboscis through my shoulder. I braced for a slash of pain, shocked when the contact elicited a wrenching brokenhearted ache instead.
“Jamie!” The shout burst from me, echoing back from the tall buildings.
“Summer,” Pamela warned.
“I’m on him.”
Summer thundered past me, her hair streaming out behind her, her soul blazing as bright as a mythical avenging angel’s. I sprinted after her, following Jamie. My heart dropped when he disappeared behind a building. I couldn’t lose him. Not now.
Pamela’s booted steps echoed mine, the older woman easily keeping pace as I tore around the side of the building and crunched through a tangle of low shrubs. I hurdled a hedge and swerved through parked cars, bursting into an opening in front of a semicircle of buildings. Summer halted, her palmquell chasing a single drone across the sky. Slug after slug of lux lucis hammered Jamie. I barreled into her, knocking her sideways.
“Hey!” She straightened, bringing the palmquell back up.
I spun a kick to the back of her knee—a move I hadn’t known I possessed—and followed it up with a stiff shove to her shoulders. Summer toppled. Fury contorted her features. She rolled to her feet faster than I expected, but then Pamela stood between us.
“Stay back. She might not be in control.” The inspector crowded Summer, walking her away from me.
“I lost him,” Summer said.
“He’ll be back. He can’t resist Madison. She’s the one you need to watch. We need to save her from being turned.”
I shook my head. We needed to save Jamie. I hunted the skies for him, finding the pooka immediately. He hadn’t gone far, circling at the bottom of the evil throng.
“Jamie.” He didn’t respond to my call. Could he hear me? Did drones have ears? I had no option other than to act as if he could. “I’m sorry. I had to be sure it was you. I won’t shoot you again. I promise. I just want to talk.”
I pressed the tip of the pet wood against my thigh and collapsed the wand, shoving it and the palmquell into my pockets. Jamie ignored me, swirling through the drones. I lost sight of him a few times, but it didn’t take long to pick him out again.
“Fight the bond, Madison. Whatever it’s telling you, you need to stay strong,” Pamela urged. “He’s not the pooka you bonded. Look how dark he is. He’s turning evil—”
“He’s not evil; he’s angry.” Lux lucis still sang bright in Jamie’s soul. I wouldn’t give up on him until the last drop faded.
“He’s helping the tyv. He’s evil and needs to be stopped. Push through the bond—”
I tuned Pamela out. Pacing away from her, I waited until Jamie dipped below the second story of the nearest building before trying to speak to him again.
“I miss you, Jamie. I want you to come home. I want us to work together. I won’t make you do what you don’t want to.”
Pamela scoffed. “That’s a foolhardy promise you can’t keep.”
“Please,” I said, raising my voice to drown her out. “I know I was cruel . . .” Every memory of Jamie’s hurt and bewildered expressions, every haunted and confused look he’d given me over the last several days hammered through my mind, a montage of guilt and regret that ate acid through my heart. “Can you forgive me?”
The pooka flew higher without responding, corralled a ball of drones, and rode them down to earth.
“Get to the tree,” Pamela ordered.
“But Madison—”
“She’s under the pooka’s thrall. We have to let this play out.”
The inspector was wrong. The bond had no hand in manipulating this emotional scene. My heartfelt plea was as authentically me as it was desperate.
The knot of drones split in two, the larger group going for Pamela and Summer, who had retreated to stand with their backs against a building, spindly trees spread in front of them. The rest of the drones—at least fifteen and led by Jamie—dive-bombed me.
“I’m not going to fight you anymore, Jamie.” I locked my knees and didn’t take my eyes off the pooka, refusing to acknowledge the drones behind him.
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