Burnt Silver

by H A Titus

  I ran my hand through my hair. "So Larae's chasing after a hopeless dream?"

  Roe shook her head. "No. As long as even one stone is in existence, there are ways to open paths. Dark, dangerous ways, but if she's desperate enough, she might attempt them."

  I rubbed the scar on my wrist. I think she's already pretty desperate. "How's that book going? Finding any new information on pathstones?"

  Roe's eyes brightened. "It's a copy of original texts that were written by monks who lived near a permanent path to Tir Ni-all, back when the paths were still open. Legend has it they were entrusted with these secrets by some of the very fae who began the practice of glamouring objects."

  "So, really rare?"

  "Extremely. I don't know of anyone who had a copy, even back when I first began my research on the subject."

  I tucked the Faraday cage to the back of the desk, grabbed my book, and moved to the couch. It was getting late, but I figured I could get a bit more reading in before I left for home.

  # # #

  I stood up from my bed in my parents' house and opened the curtain, staring out at the moon that was in the wrong phase, the full, bright light shining down onto my upturned face. I stepped back from the window and felt the glamoured vines squeezing my ankles, wrapping around my wrists, dragging me down to the floor.

  "Enough!" I yelled around the vines as they began to wind around my face, and somehow, the word made it past their suffocating leaves, ringing in the air like a church bell. I slammed my hands to the ground and forced the vines away, to relax their hold. They crumpled to the floor, brown and withering.

  I stared at the back of my fists. More vines rippled over my skin, bending to brush along my hands and my arms, glowing bright green. Then with a sudden rush, they sped into my bracelet and disappeared.

  The bracelet tightened. I gasped, doubling forward as it bit into my skin. Pounded my fist against the floor. It felt like the skin was being peeled from my palm. I choked back a scream, looked up. The bracelet had expanded, growing over my hand like a metal gauntlet, melting to my knuckles like a super-heated piece of plastic, the metal glowing in the pane of moonlight shining on my bedroom floor.

  The dream shattered around me.

  I opened my eyes.

  The firelight flickered on the library ceiling, casting dancing shadows into the corners of the room. Not my room at my parents' house. I was still at the rath.

  Other than the crackle and pop of flames, it was quiet. I sat up, looked around. The computers were powered down in the corner. Roe's chair was empty, the books closed and neatly stacked, pieces of ribbon and folded paper sticking out of the pages at various intervals.

  I raised my hand. The bracelet glimmered on my wrist. It was its normal size and shape. I flopped back down and sighed, scrubbing my hands over my face. At least this time I hadn't choked to death on the glamour-vines. But why had the bracelet transformed?

  I froze. Was it because I'd commanded the glamour? Shown a small measure of control over it?

  Before I could continue with that train of thought, the door creaked open. I sat up and looked over the back of the couch.

  Eliaster waved to me, blinking heavily. "What time is it?" he croaked.

  I fished my phone from my pocket. "One in the afternoon. How'd you sleep?"

  He grunted.

  Good enough of an answer. I swung my feet to the floor and folded the blanket I'd been using, then stretched. If I kept spending the night at the rath, I'd have to find better accommodations. Constant sleeping on the couch was giving me a crick in my neck.

  I walked over to the coffee bar. As I pulled a mug from the cupboard, a flicker of green glamour wound around the corner of the bar. I blinked and shook my head. When I glanced at the spot where it had been, the glamour was gone.

  Could I control glamour now? I stretched my hand out in the air in front of me and tried to imagine a spot of green, glowing in the center of my palm. Something flickered, and I clenched my fist closed, my heart pounding.

  "You okay?" Eliaster asked.

  "Yeah, just … more weird dreams. Same as usual. It's just taking me a bit to shake them."

  "Okay. Well … let me know if I can help."

  "I will. Thanks."

  After getting coffee, Eliaster and I went in search of Roe. We found her in the dining room, her phone to her ear, quickly scribbling some notes into a blue notebook. I listened, sipping at my coffee cup, as she finished up the conversation—something about the relics, from what I could gather—and looked up at us.

  "Success?" Eliaster asked.

  She nodded. "I finally talked to Simon, and he agreed to meet." Her smile faded a bit. "Though, he only wanted to speak with Josh."

  My stomach dropped to my feet. "What?"

  Roe and Eliaster both glanced at me. I rubbed my hand through my hair. Of course the curators wouldn't want to deal with Eliaster. But why me? Why not Roe or Cormac?

  Eliaster crossed his arms. "Where do they want to meet?"

  "The Black Dog Pub."

  The tension in my chest eased a little. Liam and the rest of the werewolves hadn't been too bad. It wasn't like I was walking into a totally unknown factor there. "But why just me?"

  Eliaster smirked. "Think you can handle it?"

  Oh no, we were not going to go through that whole conversation again. I ignored him and looked over at Roe, repeating my question. "Why me?"

  "He's interested in meeting the human who has been working with Eliaster."

  "Oh great, so now I'm an Underworld celebrity. Perfect." Suspicion twinged at the back of my mind. "You didn't tell him that I somehow resisted glamour, did you?"

  She shot me a glare over the rims of her glasses. "Joshua McAllister, I would never do such a thing, and you know it."

  Cue me wanting to shrivel up. "I know. Sorry."

  "However, he would be a good place to start if you're interested in asking."

  I looked over at Eliaster. "What do you think?"

  He held up his hands. "I trust you to accurately represent the situation. And honestly, the curators will listen better to you."

  Roe nodded.

  I took in a deep breath, let it out slowly. Yeah. I could totally do this. "Okay, Roe—what do I need?"

  # # #

  I spent the rest of the day preparing for my meeting with the curators. With Roe's help, I went through and gathered together a folder of things we'd discovered—the photos Banshee had given us, a report that Eliaster and I wrote up about dealing with Shaughnessy, photocopies of book pages and other things Roe had on hand about the pathstones and the relics. We picked out a couple of relics for me to take to the curators as a good faith gesture.

  I also texted Aileen that we'd gotten separate confirmation that Henry Blair was someone we'd be interested in.

  Finally, at around six-thirty, I packed everything into my backpack and turned to Roe. "Any advice on how to deal with the curators?"

  She looked up from her book and blinked a moment, refocusing. "I suppose the best thing I can advise is patience. I've been friends with Simon a long time. Given the evidence you're bringing to him, I think he'll make a fair decision. But that might not include you or Eliaster, and I wouldn't push too hard."

  I nodded. Like Eliaster had said earlier, even if the curators wanted to handle Henry Blair alone, there were plenty of things we could do. The Lucht may have gone to ground, but that didn't mean Eliaster didn't have resources he could tap or strings he could pull. Cormac wasn't a highlord, but he did sit on the regional council, and that counted for something.

  Even though it was underground, now that it was nearing sunset, the Underworld roads were much busier. It took me half again as long to get to the surface as I wove around clumps of goblins, fae, and other sidhé. As I rode, I tried to imagine how I'd convince Simon into going after Anraí. If the curators where anywhere as loyal and pigheaded as the fae, it would take quite a bit of fancy talking on my part to convince Simon that Anraí re
ally was dangerous.

  I parked my bike beside my car and rubbed my nose. As usual, the garage smelled like gasoline, always a weird change from the mold and dust of the Underworld. As I neared my car, I caught a whiff of something sharp and metallic. Blood. Fresh blood. I paused beside the car, my hand on the keys in my pocket, and glanced around the parking garage, nerves jangling. Something felt ... off.

  The lower level of the garage was dim, lit with flickering yellow lights, and nearly empty. Now that I was used to it, I could tell this place reeked with fae glamour—not the intentional kind. It was almost like a predator marking his territory, a sense about the place that made normal humans avoid it—a sense of danger that triggered the fight-or-flight mechanism. I'd gotten past it for the most part, but it still made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  Something scuffled behind a car a few feet away. My heart leapt to my throat.

  I yanked the keys out of my pocket, jabbed them at the car door. Claws scraped on concrete. I didn't even look, just flung open my car door, dove in, and slammed the door behind me.

  The impact against the car made my heart lurch and I twisted to look over my shoulder. A skinny sidhé with patchy fur rimming its face stood at the door. Long dark-colored claws scraped against the glass. This looked more rodent-like than a cat-sidhé, with a snarl full of large, flat teeth, and large ears laid back against its head. A red beanie hugged its head, and trails of something sticky and glistening matted along its lank hair.

  My heart sank to my stomach. A redcap—fear dearg. The same thing Eliaster had theorized had broken into Roe's home.

  Beady eyes stared at me, weirdly animal in a semi-human face.

  I put my hand to my jacket pocket, feeling for my keys, my phone. My hands shook.

  Quick as lightning, it slammed its other hand into the window. The glass shattered, leaving my only barrier a cracked mess. I yelped and pulled myself to the other side of the car. Its claws poked through the glass, inching toward me in a screeching sound that sped my pulse. It almost sounded like … metal.

  Iron claws. Crap. Redcaps were one of the only fae that iron didn't affect. Of course I'd be that lucky. I glanced from the creature to the ignition of the car. I scooted forward, car key clutched in my hand.

  The creature got its claws free and slammed its shoulder into the car. The blow knocked me back against the passenger door, the handle digging into the small of my back. For its size, the thing was incredibly strong. The fear dearg punched through the window again. I ducked my head as glass shattered across the seats. When I looked up, the redcap was reaching through the window, a grin baring its teeth. I hit the door handle with my elbow and half-fell, half-rolled out of the passenger side. My phone flew out of my hand and skidded under the car next to mine.

  Crap!

  I scrambled to my feet and dashed for the ramp to the ground level. As I did, the smell hit me full force. Fresh blood and rotting meat. I stumbled, gagged, slapped my hand over my nose and mouth. Heard the redcap's swift, light footfalls as it raced after me. I fumbled for the gun in my shoulder holster. Everything was happening too fast.

  I spun just as the redcap plowed into my side. The blow knocked me off my feet and sent me rolling. My gun clattered to the floor.

  I slammed my hand into the pavement and used the momentum to get to my feet—toward my weapon. But the redcap beat me to it and kicked my gun off to the side, grinning. Crap, this thing was fast. Too fast for me to dodge. I grabbed the knife at my belt.

  It paused, shifting from foot to foot, beady eyes glancing from my face to my knife and back.

  "What do you want?" I growled.

  The redcap's eyes met mine. "Dainséarach."

  Dangerous. "What? Why? Who told you that?"

  It snorted and shuffled closer. I fought down the urge to gag at the rotten-meat smell. The creature suddenly leapt to the side, out of reach, and lunged toward my back. I spun and slashed.

  The creature hissed and pulled back, blood seeping along a wound on its arm.

  "First blood's mine," I said. Maybe that was something it could respect.

  The creature snarled and for a minute it hesitated, head twisting from side to side. Then it sprang at me again. I ducked, feeling claws whistle over my head. It slashed at my side. I blocked the claws with my knife, and the clang echoed through the parking garage.

  It had caught my knife blade in its claws. It twisted. My arm wrenched to the side, and my knife skidded across the concrete. The redcap's fist slapped across my jaw. I hit the ground hard on my shoulders and turned it into an awkward roll, coming up into a crouch. I could see my gun out of the corner of my eye. My throat tightened. No way would I reach it in time. I got my second knife out and held it up, the flat of the blade braced against my forearm in a reverse grip.

  The redcap halted, the blade inches from its throat. Claws pressed against my stomach, and I gulped, fought down the urge to vomit now that it was so close to me.

  "MacAllister has soft skin. Easy to kill." It grinned.

  "Why kill me?"

  Something in the way it tensed warned me, and I jerked out of the way just as the claws on my belly twitched, tearing my shirt. I scrambled backward, feeling for my pistol. The redcap jumped and slammed into me, driving my shoulders into the ground. I felt something dig into the small of my back and a flare of hope ignited.

  Teeth flashed. I threw my arm across my throat just in time. The redcap bit down, teeth sinking through my jacket and into the flesh of my forearm. I screamed as it bit harder and shook, then slammed me down against the ground again, my head rapping against the floor. Still gripping my knife, I drove it upward, between the creature's ribs. The fear dearg shrieked and scrambled off me. It clamped one hand around its side, blood oozing between its fingers.

  I sat up and yanked my gun free. Its eyes widened, and with a shriek, it ran for the exit. My first shot went wide, shattering the back window of a car parked at the top of the exit ramp. Surprisingly, no alarm sounded, just the echoing blast of my pistol. I winced, steadied my injured arm, and aimed again.

  The redcap squeezed under the fencing on the ground floor. Within seconds, it was out of sight.

  I rolled to my knees and stared at the blood spattered across the garage floor, feeling sick as pain throbbed across my arm. Gotta call Eliaster. Gotta … I pushed myself up and staggered across the garage. My knees hit the concrete harder than I wanted when I crouched down to grab my phone.

  My hands shook as I brought the phone up to my ear. As soon as I heard the call connect, I stammered, "Eliaster. There was a redcap."

  Something dropped on the other end. "A what?"

  "A redcap."

  "Are you okay?"

  I looked down at my arm, at the shredded material stained red. "I think so? It bit me. My arm's torn up. But I think that's it." I remembered the claws gashing open my shirt and looked down at my torso. No blood. It had just caught the material. I shivered. I'd been lucky.

  "I'm coming, okay? Try to put pressure on your arm. Don't take off your jacket until I'm there. Is there any immediate threat?"

  I scanned the garage, sniffed. It didn't matter. I wouldn't have been able to smell a redcap past the blood I was losing anyway. "I—I don't think so."

  "Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes. Just hang in there, Josh."

  I dragged my backpack out of the car and sat on the curb, then dug out my extra shirt and wrapped it around my arm. As I sat, I concentrated on breathing, deep and even. My body started trembling. My mind slid into a fog.

  The hidden door to the Underworld slid open just enough for Eliaster to wheel his bike through. When he saw me, he sighed, then said, "Why do you always get to have the fun?"

  I held up my arm. "Yeah, this is fun all right." My hands shook.

  Eliaster grimaced. He pulled an emergency kit from his bag, then helped me peel my jacket off. There was less blood than I'd expected, but it still oozed down my arm from the wounds.

  Eli
aster uncapped a bottle of water and washed off my arm, then flushed the wounds. There were three that were about an inch deep, along with other small gashes, and I could already see the skin around them mottling purple.

  Eliaster winced. "Yeah, that's gonna hurt." He sponged at the wounds with gauze. "I don't think there's any muscle or tendon damage, though."

  "Thank the Almighty." The last thing I needed was my sword arm completely out of commission.

  "You're sure it was a redcap? Those aren't common."

  I gestured to my arm. "Trust me, I got a close look."

  "Dude." Eliaster shook his head.

  As he finished cleaning and bandaging my arm, I cradled my head in my other arm, breathing deeply and willing myself to stop shaking. At least the fog was lifting. Though I wasn't sure whether that was a blessing or not. I could still hear the fear dearg's nasal voice in my head: Dainséreach.

  Who would think I was dangerous enough to send a monster like that after me? Why? To get a message across to the Tyrones? To get me out of commission for a while?

  "Want me to take you back to the rath?" Eliaster asked.

  "Tempting." I shook my head and stood up. The shakes had mostly subsided, but now my arm throbbed, and I could feel a headache forming in the back of my skull where the fear dearg had bashed me against the concrete. I opened my car door, swept out the glass that littered the front seat, and dug into the glove box for ibuprofen. I swallowed several.

  "Just say the word. I'll call Simon and let him know—"

  I shook my head. "I need to get to this meeting. It's too important. Just give me a few minutes."

  CHAPTER 21

  ELIASTER

  As Josh leaned against his car, inspecting the shattered window, I packed my emergency kit back into my backpack. I picked up Josh's discarded motocross jacket and stuck my fingers through the holes in the sleeve. Josh was lucky—the thick, padded fabric had kept the rodent teeth from seriously damaging his sword arm.

  Damnaigh. Why had a redcap been sent after him anyway? I stared at the fence, where smears of blood showed the redcap's flight path. "Did it say anything?"