“It’s not only machines that steal life,” Frolic said. “Magic is just as bad. Anything powerful can be evil in the hands of someone who wants to do harm.”
Starling ignored him and continued to gaze into the awful creature’s face.
“Majesty?” Querry sounded worried, which worried Frolic. Querry didn’t panic over just anything. “Starling?”
The baron didn’t respond, apparently transfixed by something Frolic couldn’t comprehend. He dared to take two steps closer to the baron, fighting past his terror and disgust. When he nudged Starling’s shoulder, the aristocrat didn’t acknowledge him. Frolic shoved him harder. Starling stumbled to regain his balance, but he didn’t look away from the withered faerie. Then Starling plunged his hand through the cracked, wizened skin and pulled out the creature’s dehydrated heart. Everyone stood awestruck as he bit into it with a feral growl. A puff of rust-colored dust rose from the organ, but Baron Starling kept eating, determined to consume the fey’s heart. Querry tried to wrench it away, but Starling swatted him in the face and knocked him down. Jean-Andre drew his unique pistol, but it flew from his hand and tumbled down the stairs with a gesture from the baron.
No matter what any of them attempted, Starling managed to consume the dried-up organ. Frolic and his mates winced at the disturbing dry, crunching sounds as Starling’s teeth ground the desiccated flesh. Frolic might not be able to eat, but he could taste, and the imagined taste of that horrific organ was enough to make him wretch even though he couldn’t vomit. Afterward, Starling faced them, his chest heaving and red-brown smears covering his face. Frolic wondered if the others saw the thin red line connecting the baron to the ancient faerie. If his sword hadn’t been destroyed, Frolic knew he could have severed it. No one else controlled magic, though, except—
“Tom,” Frolic yelled. “Stop this. Do something!”
“No.” The faerie crossed his arms and sneered. “He has it coming. Thanks to you, Frolic, I am free of him. I’ll watch him destroy himself and spit on his corpse.” With that, Tom Teezle shimmered and disappeared.
Frolic had no time to contemplate the faerie’s indifference, because Starling turned on them and raised his hands.
Chapter 31
THOUGH HE didn’t understand what had happened to the baron, fear and survival instinct took over, and Reg raised one of his pistols and fired on the twisted and altered body of the aristocrat. Without conscious intent, knowing only that he had to stop whatever was happening, Reg squeezed his trigger until he depleted his ammunition, and kept squeezing even after he’d emptied the magazine. Jean-Andre raised his gun and followed suit.
Their bullets fell out of the air and pinged uselessly at Starling’s feet. The baron flicked his fingers in their direction, a force struck them like a stone wall, and Reg and Jean-Andre flew from the dais. Reg landed on the stone floor a dozen feet below, the breath knocked from his lungs and sure he’d broken his spine. For a few minutes he couldn’t move and stared at the shadows above him with wavering vision. Then a hand clasped his wrist and pulled him to his feet. Jean-Andre’s lips moved, but all Reg heard was the rhythmic throb of his pulse in his head.
“Take a deep breath,” Jean-Andre advised.
Reg did, and his sight and hearing clarified with the return of air to his lungs. Upon hitting the ground, his pistol had flown from his hand and slid somewhere into the shadows. He drew the other and ran for the steps, shouting over his shoulder to Jean-Andre. “What the hell is going on?”
“It would seem the Anglican lord mistranslated some of the texts. If I have to guess, I’d say the creature on the slab has gained control of him.”
Reg felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest. “Which means—”
“Oui. Which means your Querrilous and Frolic are bound by contract not to harm him and what he has become. It is up to us.”
They reached the foot of the steps and took them two at a time. Just before they reached the top of the platform, Reg caught Jean-Andre’s elbow and pulled him down into a crouch. “What are we going to do?”
Jean-Andre regarded his pistol. “I have two shots left. You?”
“Five or six?” Reg did some quick calculations, but he really didn’t know.
“Then I will try to draw the baron’s attention. You must sneak around behind him, and make those shots count. Understand?”
Reg nodded, wishing he had his spectacles and could see properly. Jean-Andre’s face looked blurred only inches from his own, but Reg didn’t miss the other man’s odd expression.
“Ah, Reginald. Forgive me, but I don’t want to die without ever having done this.” He grabbed Reg by the collar and pulled him into a passionate, open-mouthed kiss. Reg didn’t know if fear or the battle-lust in his blood compelled him, but he kissed back for all he was worth. When they separated, Jean-Andre smoothed Reg’s hair and gave him a quick peck on the bridge of his nose. Then he stood and strode to the center of the platform and faced the Baron Starling, or whatever he’d become.
Starling faced him. For a second, the strange, blue glow left his eyes. “Jean-Andre?”
“Baron Starling, you must fight this thing,” the Belvaisian said in response.
Starling trembled and clawed at the sides of his head, tearing out clumps of hair. He fell to his knees and screamed until his voice broke.
“Come on, majesty,” Querry encouraged.
When the baron went silent and got back on his feet, it was clear to all of them he’d lost the battle. His eyes burned with what Reg somehow knew was pure, arcane power, and magical energy swirled in the air around him. The voice that issued from him was as deep and resounding as thunder. It echoed through the massive chamber and shook the rocks. Just the sound made Reg want to curl in a ball and whimper, but he forced himself to crouch and creep slowly and carefully toward Starling’s flank.
“What a disgusting feeling, inhabiting such a frail body,” the voice said, looking at Starling’s outstretched hands with contempt. Then the baron looked down at the slab. “Is this what has become of my form? Unacceptable.” Starling touched the husk with a glowing hand, and it twitched and made a rattling noise. Its flesh grew just a little plumper, its skin less wrinkled, and bright, fresh blood oozed from the spears holding it to the stone.
Reg, ten feet behind the baron now, lifted his gun, lined it up with Starling’s head, and pulled the trigger three times in quick succession. Just in time, Starling spun around and raised his hand. He not only stopped the bullets, but reversed their course and sent them back toward Reg. Reg had no time to react, and two of the bullets struck the metal reinforced plates of the vest Frolic had made him and bounced off almost harmlessly. The third grazed him just below his elbow. Despite the great pain and the sheet of blood coating his arm, Reg knew the bullet had done little real damage, so he bit his lips and pressed the heel of his hand against the wound.
Several things happened at once. Querry yelled Reg’s name, drew his sword, and rushed Starling. He got within two feet of the baron before he crumpled, holding his stomach. As Querry forced himself to take another step, Jean-Andre fired on Starling. Starling raised his right arm, lifting Jean-Andre high into the air. When he lowered his arm, Jean-Andre smacked against the stone, knocked instantly unconscious. The baron magically lifted his limp body from the floor of the dais for another blow.
“Stop! You’ll kill him!” Frolic stood between Starling and Jean-Andre, spreading his wings into a protective wall. “You don’t have to hurt us. We aren’t the ones who did this to you.”
Starling canted his head to an almost unnatural angle and blinked his glowing eyes. “What in the name of the first stars are you? You are neither man nor fey. Has a new race of beings emerged while I’ve been a prisoner here? Has it been so long?” He took a few steps toward Frolic, and though Frolic looked terrified, he stood his ground.
“You are very powerful,” the baron continued. “The magic within you is strong and complex. It will go a long way toward helping m
e restore myself.”
Everyone stood still. “What do you mean?” Frolic asked in a quivering whisper.
Baron Starling traced around the edge of Frolic’s face with the tip of his finger. He ran his hand down Frolic’s throat before holding it over his heart. Starling exhaled with satisfaction, and his eyelids fluttered with bliss. If Reg really concentrated, he could see a faint, golden light moving from Frolic’s chest, down Starling’s arm, and across the gossamer thread tethering him to the ancient creature on the block. Frolic’s golden eyes dimmed as the faerie fleshed out, looking healthier by the second. Frolic tried to fish for something in his pocket, but he seemed to have great difficulty lifting his arm and moving his fingers. His eyelids drooped, and his slight shoulders curled forward. His wings fell, the tips of the feathers scraping the ground.
Ignoring the blood trickling from his eyes and nose, Querry fought through the pain Starling’s magical contract inflicted. He raised his blade and thrust it at the baron, but the agony was too much for him, and he collapsed, coughing up mouthfuls of frothy blood.
“Leave him alone!” Reg grabbed Starling by the shoulders and tried to pull him away from Frolic, but it was like trying to move the mountain itself. The baron never so much as flinched when Reg struck him in the side of the head. He seemed made of rock, cut from the floor of the temple itself. Reg threw himself at the baron, planning to tackle him. He had to stop him, no matter what it took. Just as Reg launched himself at Starling, Starling raised his unoccupied hand and swatted him away like a fly. Reg flew through the air and landed hard on his side. Disregarding what felt like at least a few cracked ribs, Reg hurried to stand. Astoundingly, Querry had pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He clutched Starling’s trouser leg, trying to haul himself up. Frolic was almost gone.
“Reggie,” the clockwork boy panted, struggling to draw breath, “my… birthday….” Then Frolic collapsed, unable to finish his statement.
Reg hurried to his prone body and touched his cool cheek. Frolic’s eyes, while open, looked dull and dead. He wasn’t quite gone, though: a glittering, golden stream of light twined up from his heart to the baron’s hand. In a panic, Reg covered Frolic’s chest with his palms, as if he could hold his essence in. The blood from Reg’s wound splattered Frolic’s waistcoat. What could he have meant by mentioning his birthday? Maybe he’d been delirious. With no other straw to grasp, Reg thought back to the odd little celebration, trying to recall anything that could save them. His gaze fell on the simple locket Kristof had given Frolic, twisted up in the chain of the clockwork angel’s feather Frolic kept as a charm. He flipped it open. Kristof had said it would show whatever one most wanted to see, and Reg concentrated on seeing something, anything, that could save Frolic’s life.
“This creature’s magic will not be enough,” Starling said. “I must seek out more.”
Tears stung Reg’s eyes as he stared into the swirling mutable depths of the locket. Slowly, a picture formed and clarified: an image of the pruning shears the gentleman had given Frolic at the party. Understanding, Reg reached into Frolic’s pocket and seized them. He knew he’d only have one chance, but he couldn’t wait any longer or he’d lose Frolic. He rose to his knees, lunged forward, and snipped the glittering thread binding Starling to the faerie.
THE EXCRUCIATING feeling of Querry’s bones and organs going through a meat grinder ceased abruptly, and he lifted his head from the cool stone and tried to wipe the worst of the blood from his face. For the last few minutes, he had been able to perceive nothing but the pain, and he knew he’d come close to killing himself. Sitting up, still aching, he saw Reg dragging Frolic’s limp body away from the baron with much difficulty. Frolic was heavy, but Reg was determined. Jean-Andre lay a few feet away, knocked out and bleeding from a gash across his forehead.
Starling looked around as if he had no idea what had just happened. Maybe he didn’t. Then his gaze locked with Querry’s, and he knelt to grab Querry by the shoulders. “Kill me, Querry.”
“What?” Querry gasped.
“I feel it inside me, clawing its way back up, trying to take over. It’s only a matter of time. You must kill me before it succeeds, or everyone here, maybe everyone in the world, is doomed.”
“Majesty, I can’t even hurt you! Just trying to get you off Frolic about did me in,” Querry argued.
“Of course.” Starling looked tired, defeated, and resigned. Querry had an irrational desire to embrace and comfort him. “Querrilous Knotte. Frolic. I hereby release you from your contracts. Any and all obligations between you and me are rendered null and void. Now, Querry, please. You know what needs to be done, and you must hurry.” Starling pressed the hilt of Querry’s sword into his hand.
“I don’t want to.” Querry knew he sounded silly and immature, but he meant it and couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to say so. “I actually kind of like you, majesty.”
The baron held Querry’s cheeks in his hands and looked deep into Querry’s eyes. “I have nothing left to live for now.”
“That’s not true,” Querry started to say.
“This is no time for debate, Querry. You must listen to me. I have made a grievous error. I wanted to save the world, but my motivations don’t matter now. I only ask that you don’t let this world’s destruction be my legacy instead. You must kill me, and then you must burn my body and this thing’s heart along with it. Let me die knowing you’re safe and that no one else has been hurt by my foolishness. Do it for your lovers if you cannot do it for me. I beg you, Querry. Don’t let me become a monster. Can I count on you as I’ve come to do? One last time?”
With a bitter taste in his mouth and tears streaming down his cheeks, Querry nodded. He didn’t know why this hurt so damn much, but it hurt like a bitch to lose Starling and the friendship they’d nurtured.
Starling swiped away Querry’s tears with the back of his hand. “I never wanted to make you suffer. I regret that this is the only way. You must do this for me.”
“Yes,” Querry choked out. “Yes, sir.”
The baron smiled at that and kissed Querry on the cheek. “Good boy. Here,” Starling rasped as he slipped something from within his coat and into Querry’s. “This is my spell book. It belongs to you now. Keep it safe.” He barely finished his sentence when his eyes rolled back in his head, and he gurgled. “It’s coming!”
Querry folded Baron Gavindale Starling in his arms and held him. Then he drew his dagger and drove it beneath the base of the baron’s skull. Starling twitched only once before he fell still.
“No!” the creature on the slab growled as the baron’s body lay limp in Querry’s arms. Querry heard a strange sucking noise, followed by a papery footstep. It occurred to Querry that the thing must be freeing itself from the iron spikes just before the monster grabbed Querry and Starling’s corpse and wrenched them apart. Querry grasped at Starling’s body and screamed until he lost his voice.
“Do shut up,” the creature said, tossing Querry across the room where he hit the wall of the chamber. Reg and Frolic scrambled to check on him. “There’s still a bit of magic left in you,” the ancient faerie observed before placing his mouth over the corpse’s. The fey absorbed residual magical energy seeping out of Starling’s body. Its skin became plumper and smoother even as Starling shriveled slightly, the color fading from his flesh.
“This has to stop,” Frolic stood with grim determination.
Reg grabbed Frolic’s arm. “You can’t, Frolic. Think what happened last time it touched you. It will kill you, and your magic will make it even stronger.”
“Reggie—” Frolic tried to protest, but Querry placed his hand on Frolic’s arm as well and shook his head.
“You can’t,” Querry croaked. Frolic opened his mouth to argue, but his attention, along with Querry’s and Reg’s, was drawn to the sound of bones cracking. The creature broke into the baron’s rib cage and reached in with a clawed hand, tearing out Starling’s heart.
“I’ll have th
is back,” it said with a malicious grin. The ancient faerie’s hair grew lusher, and its eyes sparkled with new life. It angled the stolen organ toward the hole the baron had made in its chest moments before. Tendrils like vines snaked out of that cavity and eagerly reached for the heart. Before they could properly grip it, Tom Teezle appeared out of thin air and slapped the organ out of the monster’s grasp.
“Oh no you don’t,” he shouted before disappearing. He reappeared seconds later, catching the heart before it could hit the ground.
“No! I won’t be undone!” the ancient fey cried and lunged at Teezle, but Tom disappeared again before the monster could lay hands on him. The creature roared with anger and frustration.
Tom reemerged behind Querry and his mates. “We have to make sure he doesn’t get this,” Tom explained. “Or me.”
“Or Frolic,” Reg added. “Tom, take him and the heart someplace safe. Querry and I will deal with this.”
“Reggie, no,” Frolic protested.
“This is not up for debate, Frolic! We can’t allow him to gain any more power if we have any hope of defeating him! You’re going with Tom!” Reg shouted, inviting no more arguments. Teezle didn’t wait for an answer. He grabbed Frolic by his shirt and nodded.
“Not this time, Tom!” the heartless fey snarled and pointed at them.
“Blast,” Tom spat.
“What?” Reg asked.
“I can’t travel. He’s done something. I’m trapped.”
“We’re trapped,” Frolic clarified.
“Split up,” Querry shouted, grabbing the heart and dashing away from his friends. “Divide his attention!” Reg, Frolic, and Tom didn’t argue. They all scattered in different directions around the chamber. The ancient faerie took a few halting steps as if deciding who to pursue first.
“You think you’re so clever, little human?” it asked as it tossed a spell toward Querry, knocking him off balance, and lunging for him as he fell.
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