Burnt Silver

by H A Titus

  The side of my neck cracked, and I could move my head again. The gray coating on my fingers cracked, and I could close my hand into a fist again.

  I swung hard, driving my fist into Henry's head and knocking him off balance. His hand barely missed Simon's face. He tumbled and fell on his side, slamming into his stone fireplace.

  He stared up at me, cradling one side of his head. His glamour was completely gone now. "How?"

  "Forgot to mention, I'm immune to glamour. By the way—" I reached down and picked up the stone disk that had fallen from his hand and held it up. "Pretty sure this seals your guilt."

  I grabbed his arm, hauling him upright, and glanced over to Zeke and Simon. Both of them looked like they were in shock.

  "How?" Simon started.

  "Let's focus on getting somewhere safe, and then I promise, I'll explain as much as I understand."

  Simon nodded and focused on Henry. His eyes narrowed. "We have a safe house not far from here. Let's go."

  I followed him out the door, dragging Henry by one arm. As soon as we got to the hallway, the fae tried to wrench free.

  I pulled my gun from my shoulder holster and pressed it into the small of his back, where it would be mostly hidden from view by any innocent passersby. "I don't know about you," I said, "but a kidney shot sounds like a pretty bad way to die."

  "Who are you?" Henry hissed back. "You're human. How did you resist the glamour?"

  Great question, buddy. The elevator dinged, and I shoved him into it, mind whirling. At this point, all I wanted to do was get to Eliaster before Henry realized how badly I was shaking.

  CHAPTER 25

  JOSH

  Eliaster got out of the car as we approached across the parking lot. His eyes flicked to Henry, then to me.

  "Did not expect that," he said in a low voice. "What happened?"

  "I'll explain in a bit." I still needed time to figure out what had happened. I looked over at the Blacks' SUV. "I'm gonna ride with them and make sure this guy doesn't cause any trouble. You good with following us?"

  Eliaster nodded.

  Zeke opened the back door for us. As I walked Henry over, the fae started to lean back against me. I jabbed the gun into his lower back, hard enough that he grunted and didn't fight anymore as I pushed him into the back of the SUV.

  Eliaster tapped my side and handed up a packet of zip-ties. I sighed, but used the ties to bind Henry's wrists together. Then I pulled the door shut and sat in the middle row of seats, half-turned so I could keep an eye on Henry. I didn't put my gun away, but I did lower it, trying to keep my hand from shaking.

  We pulled out of the parking lot, and I spotted Eliaster's car following us.

  After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, Zeke spoke up. "So how did you know he was fae?"

  "I saw through the glamour on his face."

  "But—"

  Simon interrupted his son. "Maybe we should leave the questions for a more private time."

  Henry didn't say anything, but his eyes glimmered with dark anger.

  He wasn't going to cooperate. My stomach sank. How were they planning to get anything out of him? My mind flashed back to the factory. Eliaster had looked ready to beat the answers out of Shaughnessy then, but he hadn't because Banshee had stepped in. The thought made me feel sick. What if torture was the only way we could find answers? Was it worth one person's agony to potentially save thousands, if not millions, of others? Because that was the stake here. Relics in the hands of sidhé meant they could cause as much havoc as they wanted.

  By the time Simon parked, my stomach was a pit of gnawing acid.

  I looked out the window. Simon had parked in the street of a fairly rundown-looking neighborhood. Half of the houses on the block had boarded-up windows with dying, overgrown yards and straggly bushes. The house he'd parked in front of had a piece of plywood over the inside of one window, with pieces of glass still clinging to the busted frame. The other window was grimy and covered with some kind of curtain, and bushes were growing halfway up it anyway. The chain link fence blocking the back yard off from the houses around it sagged in a couple of spots.

  "It doesn't look like much, but the nice thing in this kind of neighborhood is that no one asks too many questions," Simon said. "Come on, let's get this over with."

  I pulled on Henry's arm. "C'mon."

  He barely acknowledged me with a grunt, but slid out of the car after me. I kept a firm grip on his arm as we walked up to the front door. Simon unlocked it and led us inside.

  The house smelled musty, and a thin layer of dust coated the empty shelves that separated the entryway from the rest of the living room. But other than that, it looked decent. A couple of old couches were pushed to the walls of the living room, and a circular dining table occupied another corner, with shelves of books filling the rest of the gaps. An old tube TV and VCR player sat against one wall. Simon led me into the kitchen and opened a door, which led down a steep, dark set of stairs. He flicked on the light.

  "There's a couple of holding rooms downstairs. They haven't really been updated beyond a coat of paint since the forties or fifties, but it will do for now."

  I pushed Henry's shoulders, nudging him forward and down the stairs. The basement was divided into a couple of sections. To my right, there was a small storage area with a few sagging cardboard boxes and old wooden crates. The room to the left was divided into two parts. One, beyond a half wall topped with thick-framed glass, held a table and a couple of chairs. The other held a few chairs, a table, an old fridge, and a half-closed door to a small bathroom. It looked fairly similar to the police interrogation rooms that populated movies.

  A flimsy padlock hung open on the outside of the interrogation room door, a key stuck in it. I steered Henry inside. "I'll bring you some water or something in a bit. In the meantime …" I gestured to the chairs and table.

  He snorted but didn't say anything.

  I shrugged and slammed the door, then fiddled with the padlock. It was slightly sticky, but I was able to get it latched and turn the key after a minute of struggling. How long had it been since they'd used this place?

  I put the key in my pocket and studied the lock. Under concentrated attack, it wouldn't contain anyone, but it would make a lot of noise if Henry tried to break it down. Besides, where was he gonna go?

  I studied the glass for a minute and was unsurprised to see strips of black metal placed along the frame of it and the door. Iron. Someone had been thinking. Again, it wouldn't hold against a concentrated fae attack, but there was enough there to make a fae think twice about crossing it.

  I headed back upstairs to find Simon and Zeke rummaging in the kitchen, pulling bottled water from the fridge and a few cans of food from one of the cupboards.

  "Nice," I said. "When was this built?"

  "Originally, back in the twenties. There was a lot of fae activity back then—some Unseelie went hand-in-hand with some of the gangs in various parts of the country, though I doubt any of the humans realized what they were dealing with." Simon shrugged one shoulder. "So, is Henry comfortable?"

  "As much as he can be, I think. I don't know how you're planning to get anything out of him, though, Simon. Shaughnessy was under an oath of silence—it would make sense that Henry is as well."

  "Well, that's what I was hoping Eliaster could help us with."

  I blinked, stared at him. "What're you hoping Eliaster will do, torture him?"

  Simon looked away. "Fae have … methods."

  "If you're talking about glamour, no, they really don't. Even if they did, Eliaster can't use his glamour in that way. And if you're talking about relics, he won't touch them."

  "Why don't we wait until your friend gets here and ask him, huh?" Zeke snapped. "Let the fae speak for himself."

  I glared back, feeling my confidence falter. What if I was wrong, and Eliaster could use his glamour in some way to get Henry to talk to us? What if he would use a relic for something like this?

&nbs
p; Where was he? I checked my phone, but he hadn't sent me a text or anything.

  Simon handed me a water bottle. "So, while we have a minute, let's get to the part everyone's waiting for. How did you resist that glamour?"

  I tested the bottle's cap. Still sealed. I tossed it from hand to hand. "Long story short, I had a half-fae roommate in college. Marc. The theory is that I spent so much time around him that I became immune to the types of glamour fae use to disguise themselves."

  Simon nodded.

  Zeke crossed his arms. "Dude, I saw it when Henry touched you with that relic. Your neck started turning to stone."

  Crap. Figured he'd seen that. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the flat piece of rock. It was marble, gray shot through with black veins. The disk's glow pulsed in my palm. With each pulse, a small circle of gray spread outward on my skin, cracked, and faded into glittering dust. Awesome. Someone had found a way to channel the White Witch. I briefly wondered what kind of fae liked having stone statues in their garden, then decided that maybe I didn't want to know.

  "How … how is this happening?" Simon stepped closer, adjusting his glasses. The glamour reflected off them, hiding his eyes. "Roe said you were fully human."

  Zeke snorted. "As if an associate of Eliaster's can be trusted. He's got to be fae, dad. They're lying to us."

  "I'm. Human," I muttered.

  "Eliaster might, but Roe never would," Simon snapped at his son.

  The doorbell rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Simon went into the living room and opened the door, and Eliaster stepped into the house.

  I shoved the disk back into my pocket. "Where were you?"

  "Letting Roe know that we got him." He looked at me, a grim expression on his face. "How's Henry?"

  "Keeping quiet," I said. "He barely said a word on the way here."

  Eliaster frowned and looked over at Simon and Zeke, who stood some distance from him, eyeing him carefully. "Any plans?"

  Simon shrugged. "We thought we'd wait until you showed up."

  Understanding flashed in Eliaster's eyes, and he took a step back. I raised my eyebrows. It had to be the first time I'd seen him back up from anything that wasn't a direct, physical threat.

  He rubbed the collar of his T-shirt. "I don't do stuff like that anymore, Simon."

  "Really?" Zeke muttered. "Then why did Highlord Keelin say you were ready to beat the truth out of Shaughnessy, oath of silence or not?"

  Eliaster ground his teeth. "It was a momentary loss of control."

  "So this time, you voluntarily lose control."

  "I said no."

  Simon crossed his arms. "Someone needs to do something, Eliaster. You said this guy is connected to Drake Airgead. We need to confirm your information from Henry Blair so we can move forward. Don't you have some fae tricks you can use?"

  Eliaster growled. "Roe said the two of you have been friends for years, right?"

  "Ye-es," Simon said slowly.

  "Then why in hell do you think I can use 'fae tricks'? If you've known Roe as long as you say, you should know better. I can't control my glamour enough to be that precise. Besides that, Sidhé who have lived on this side of Mag Mell this long can't access glamour like that without relics. And I'm not touching any of those damned things." Eliaster's voice rose. "And if you think I'm willing to do something like that, we're done here."

  Fear flickered in the two curators' eyes. I put my arm across Eliaster's chest, pushed him back a pace. "Hey, chill." I reached behind him and pulled open the door. "We'll be back in a minute, Simon."

  I pushed Eliaster out onto the porch and let the door swing shut behind me. "Look," I said in a low voice. "We don't even have to interrogate him. We have it confirmed by two other sources that Drake Airgead hired this guy. We could just go."

  Eliaster shook his head. "If we go off on this half-cocked, and Drake Airgead decides to make things difficult for us, that means Highlord O'Breigh will get involved. And if we don't have enough confirmation, he'll bind us both to the rath."

  Since when was he worried about asking permission? I studied him. Eliaster stood leaning against the porch railing, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. Totally closed off. Blue threads of color flickered through his eyes.

  "Are you worried you'll lose control again, like you did with Shaughnessy? Or is this because of Highlord O'Breigh's inevitable visit to the rath?"

  Eliaster looked down at his boots, and his mouth quirked to the side. I waited, letting the buzz of insects in the yard fill the silence. Was he going to answer me, or was this something else I'd have to wonder about?

  Eliaster sighed and dropped his arms to his sides, his hands clutching at the porch railing.

  "Both, I guess. But mostly about losing control. I don't want to be that person." Eliaster shifted slightly. "But at the same time I'm scared that if someone doesn't do it, a lot of people are going to get hurt. I'm scared that people like Shaughnessy are gonna hurt people like you, and that they'll use people like me to do it."

  Okay. I could work with that. "I get it, I do. We're both scared. But that's why I'm here, right? To help."

  His eyes clouded.

  "Look, I know it's probably not going to help much, but I know what I'm getting into. Don't make yourself vulnerable because you're worrying about me." I shrugged. "I realize that's probably hopeless, but I figured I might as well try."

  He chuckled. "Okay, okay. I still want to talk to Henry. If we can get something concrete from him, then Highlord O'Breigh won't be able to protest no matter what happens. Or—well, he will, but I think that would be enough evidence for the council to get him off our backs."

  I nodded, playing with the flat stone disk in my pocket. I could feel the glamour tightening across my skin, turning it partially to stone, and then crumpling away. I focused for a second, trying to see what would happen if I consciously held off the glamour, imagining it hovering just above my skin but not touching it.

  Nothing. My hand stayed flesh. I pulled the stone out and examined it. Something glimmered over my skin for a second, then vanished, and the slowly pulsing gray circle began to appear on my palm again.

  Eliaster watched it for a moment, frowning. He leaned forward, examining the disk, the shivered. "Okay, enough. That's creeping me out. Did Henry have that?"

  I nodded.

  "That's really weird." He was quiet for a minute, then said, "But it does give me an idea." He pulled his car keys from his pocket and held them out to me. "Trunk of the car. There's something that might help."

  I hesitated.

  "I trust you with this." Eliaster's gaze never left my face. "I trust that you can handle it. Do you trust me?"

  I nodded and grabbed the keys. I waited until I heard the door's lock click into place before I headed over to the car. I popped open the trunk and dug into Eliaster's duffel bag. My fingers brushed the ring box, and I immediately felt the jolt of glamour hit my skin. A familiar glamour.

  I pulled the box out and closed my fist around it, breathing deep. I think I could guess what Eliaster had in mind. This was probably stupid. So many things could go wrong, and we'd lose this chance—a chance Eliaster already lost his brother and his girlfriend for. A chance I'd already lost my best friend for.

  That was probably worth doing something a little stupid.

  CHAPTER 26

  ELIASTER

  I hope I'm doing the right thing.

  I let the front door close behind me, resisting the urge to look back. Pushing down my panic, my fear. Josh could make the right decision—he knew his strengths. I'd had to make a choice, and I knew I'd made the right choice, to trust him.

  But it was hard to step away.

  I could hear Zeke and Simon's voices floating up from the basement as I opened the door in the kitchen.

  "He's fae, Dad. How did none of us pick this up before?" Zeke sounded angry, his voice almost hoarse in his intensity.

  "We'll figure it out. At any rate—" Simon's v
oice stopped as soon as I stepped onto the stairs.

  I clomped the rest of the way down. "By all means, don't stop talking on my account."

  The two curators stood near the stairwell, about as far away from the holding cell as they could get while still being in the same room. I glanced over at the cell. Henry Blair sat at the table, staring at his clasped hands.

  "What can you tell me about him, Simon?" I asked, pushing between the two curators and crossing the room. Henry did not look up at my approach. "You taught him at the Musuem, right?"

  "Back then, I would've said he was loyal to a fault. Driven. He made small connections, extrapolated theories. He was a good curator. Some thought he was better than …" His voice trailed off.

  I could fill in the blanks pretty easily. "Emily's heart was what made her better. She actually cared about people. This idiot apparently didn't, since he's been selling relics."

  Simon cleared his throat awkwardly, then said, "Well, clearly Henry isn't the same man I trained years ago."

  "Fae, Dad," Zeke repeated. "He probably never cared."

  Simon rubbed his forehead, but didn't say anything.

  Footsteps on the stairs announced Josh's arrival. He crossed the room, face scrunched in thought. I studied him. He kept both hands clenched in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders stiff. He looked up at me and nodded.

  Okay, so we were on the same page.

  "So what—what's the plan here?" Simon asked Josh.

  Josh sucked in a breath and leaned back on his heels. "Henry's the only fae I've seen besides Eliaster who wears gloves while handling relics. That tells me that he's scared, or at least nervous, around them."

  "So?" Zeke interrupted.

  Josh didn't bat an eye. "So, we scare him."