No Earthly Treason

by Genevra Black

  Marius nodded, finding that he couldn’t look away. She looked so earnest.

  Swallowing, she rasped, “There’s … there’s a traitor in the Aurora. Indriði said.”

  “I know.”

  “Wha … how?”

  “It’s a long story.” He reached forward, but hesitated. “Are you going to be all right?”

  She wiped her nose and tried to avoid the skeletal remains scattered around the hall as she stepped forward. “I’m … I’ll be fine. We gotta— we should—”

  “Hey, guyyys.” Cal’s voice echoed from down the hall, in a tone that set Marius’s teeth on edge. “Better come quick. We got a problem here.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  They left the cells behind together, with Edie at the front and Marius following close behind in case she felt faint again. It took them a minute to navigate the winding halls, but eventually, the trail of lit torches led them back into the room with the low arched ceiling.

  Fiskbein and Satara stood beside the closed elevator doors, while Cal stood in front, hammering on them with a fist.

  “What’s wrong?” Marius asked as they approached.

  The revenant groaned. “What do you think? The goddamn doors won’t open.” He threw his hands up, then let them smack against his thighs. “The bastards probably cut the freakin’ power to trap us when they figured out we were down here.”

  Marius frowned, watching Cal kick the doors as though they would bend before sheer anger. “No doubt more guards will come once they find the bodies and the empty cells. We may be able to find another route through the tunnels, but it could take a while.”

  “I have an idea,” Satara whispered from where she was leaning on Fiskbein. She crept forward, touching the elevator’s platinum doors. “Can you pry these open?”

  Cal looked around at their group. “Between the five of us, probably. But we’ll never get it working.”

  She sighed, “Just do it,” and backed away.

  Marius came forward, summoning a lance. “I’ll need some help.” The tip was thin enough to wedge between the doors, and he moved it back and forth as he eased it deeper in. At least they knew it wouldn’t break.

  Fiskbein planted his hands on top of Marius’s, and Cal gripped it from the other side, mumbling something snappy about holding hands. Edie and Satara joined, limbs shaking with effort. Together, they were able to pry the doors open enough that they could shove them apart.

  Satara went in first, looking up at the ceiling. She pointed at a small hatch there. “If one of you can break the lock on that, we can climb out. This building is old; there may be a ladder up.”

  Cal peered up, frowned, and placed his hands on his hips. “Where the hell’d you get that idea?”

  “Die Hard,” she answered simply.

  The lot of them looked at her strangely, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  Fiskbein was the only one tall enough to use all his strength against the hatch, and it only took a few blows for the lock to break and the hatch to pop open. He helped Satara and Edie out first, then made way so Cal could climb up himself.

  Marius waited, his hairs standing on end. They weren’t alone.

  Sure enough, a second later, footfalls reached him. When he turned, the basement door burst open, and a large group of guards came pouring in. Dammit.

  Just as Marius was about to summon his weapons, Fiskbein laid a heavy hand on his shoulder, pushing him toward the elevator. “Go, Vivid. I will take care of these fiends.”

  Marius looked over his shoulder one last time to see the vættr turn, puffing himself up to face the guards. The vivid hesitated, mumbled a quick prayer, then jumped and hoisted himself through the hatch.

  The inside of the elevator shaft was mostly concrete, though there were rails along both sides and lips of metal edging all along the walls at intervals. To his right, a thin, treacherous-looking ladder with rungs barely big enough for one person to plant their feet side by side was riveted into the concrete. It trembled as Satara and Cal climbed it.

  Edie must have noticed this, because she was still standing on top of the elevator car, staring wide-eyed up at her friends.

  Marius watched his step as he went to her. “You need to go up.”

  “Are you crazy?” She looked at him. “That thing is going to collapse!”

  “We can’t go back, unless you want to surrender and let Sárr to take you to gods-know-where.” He looked from her to the ladder. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” she mumbled. Still, she reached out and, after a moment of hesitation, climbed up. Marius followed closely to make sure she wouldn’t fall, his breastplate nearly touching her lower back.

  They both paused when, with a boom, Fiskbein flopped onto the top of the car below. His obsidian eyes were gleaming, his front covered in gore that poured from his mouth. When he looked up, Marius could see little bits of human flesh stuck between his sharp teeth.

  Dread filled the vivid, though for another reason entirely. If anything was going to cause the ladder to collapse, it was the sjóvættr’s seven feet, three hundred pounds of densely packed muscle.

  But fortunately—and astonishingly—he forewent the ladder, using the rails, metal edges, dents in the concrete, and his own inherent stickiness to scale the wall. He was so quick that he arrived at the lobby doors before any of them. Hyped up on bloodlust, the vættr managed to wrench them open on his own, then hung precariously on the edge to help the others make the big step out to the lobby.

  Marius held his breath as the sounds of fighting reached his ears.

  The sight that greeted him when he turned and leapt from the ladder and into the lobby was not exactly a welcome one. The clean white floors were coated in venom and blood, the chandelier cracked, swinging. Antoniu, Matilda, Sissel, and her drake were all engaged in a fierce battle against a group of Gloaming guards.

  Marius’s eyes caught on the wraith as it was thrown and slid across the room, leaving a streak of its own blood on the tile. The copper scent was thick in the air. Matilda was clutching her own wounds, and the dragon had to fight twice as hard to protect the teenager behind it. He could tell from the bodies riddling the floor that the Reach fighters had made significant headway, but more simply replaced those Gloaming that fell.

  Cal hurried forward, supporting Satara with one arm while he picked off Gloaming with his revolver. “Get the fuck out of here!” he shouted without slowing. “There’s too many. Move it!”

  Spells were still flying, steel clashing as the guards rounded on those trying to retreat. Marius’s heart caught in his throat, and he pushed Edie in front of him, hurrying her along. The drake charged to the front, spread its wings, and roared. Under its cover, Fiskbein dashed forward, then Matilda and Antoniu in uneven limps.

  Would there be more opposition waiting on the street? Marius stopped short, momentarily forgetting the battle, his eyes darting as he counted heads. Almost everyone had made it to the getaway car, he thought—

  Something whined through the air, reaching him too quickly for him to react. Blistering heat slammed into his shoulder and neck, and he was thrown forward, hitting the floor hard and twisting his wrist. Pain raced up and down his arm as though he’d shattered the bone.

  Whoever was wielding the fireballs assaulted him with another volley. The tiles around him cracked, the flaming debris trapping him in. The fire only burned the small amount of skin not protected by his armor, but the force of the magic kept bowling him over. He tried to pull himself to his feet, but every time he did, another salvo would knock him down again.

  With the right timing, he could throw up a barrier and break the pattern, but he couldn’t seem to get the hang of it. Was he going to die here, surrounded by Gloaming? Helping the Reach? What in the gods’ names would his father think?

  The ground trembled, and there was a scream of agony. Something wet tore, accompanied by bone-deep roar. A second later, Marius felt a hug
e, foul-smelling form stomp over him.

  The drake. Had it broken from Sissel’s control?

  He looked up frantically, but was surprised to see a small brown hand reaching down to him from the beast’s back. The teen had mounted her new friend.

  Her dark eyes shone. “Come on, before someone puts that dude’s arms back on!”

  The vivid huffed and pulled himself forward, thankfully able to dodge the other spells being thrown at them. Sissel pulled him up behind her, and he held her waist tightly as the drake barreled toward the open doors.

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea!” Marius cried as they neared.

  “Don’t be such a baby,” she returned with a grin. “Hang on!”

  The drake pinned its wings back and crouched as it charged toward the doorway. If the Gloaming didn’t kill them, being crushed against the door’s casing would. Marius held the girl close, ducked, and summoned a shield of light.

  The doorframe whistled above their heads, close enough that it ruffled his hair. Then the drake was back to its full height, thumping down the street, its wings spread in triumph. It raised its face to the sky and bellowed happily.

  They were out.

  Edie was so happy to be safe and dry at Tilda’s house that she didn’t even mind that Mercy was fully in her lap. She sipped fancy soda from a straw while her best friend hugged her neck tightly, cheek pressed to hers.

  “I can’t believe you turned a bunch of men into skeletons,” Mercy mused. “You’re, like, a feminist icon now.”

  Edie knew it was supposed to be a joke, but she couldn’t even muster a laugh. “I don’t understand. I was having such a hard time doing anything with my powers, and that suddenly changes?” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’m not sure I could even do it again if I tried. It felt so ... weird.”

  Cal leaned back in his nearby chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Well, you are supposably meant to just have your powers and know how to use ’em. Maybe the gods finally decided to throw you a bone.”

  For the first time in a while, Marius spoke. “It could be because you started with no grasp of magical theory,” he said softly. He had spent the last couple of hours hovering near Edie, but had taken a break to go watch the summer rain through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Now he approached her again, brows knit. “You had no context for what you were supposed to do, but now that you have a better idea and are being exposed to others using magic….” He trailed off with a shrug.

  “I thought of that.” Edie rolled her bottom lip between her teeth. “Regardless, I guess I’m happy it’s coming along now. Slowly.”

  Marius looked tired, but she wasn’t surprised. She had been able to use necrohealing to restore the undead members of the party, and bloodmending on herself, but the other humans—including him—had been his responsibility. Nearby, Augustus was folded into a loaf shape, with Sissel half-asleep against his side. Miraculously, rest was all the drake needed to regenerate. Antoniu had left the second he was well enough, apparently tired of the lot of them; Tilda was making a big pot of tea, and Fisk sat on his haunches a few feet away, watching the rain.

  The only person she couldn’t touch with her eyes was Satara, who had isolated herself on the terrace despite the rain. Cal had given her a bunch of papers to translate, but she probably wasn’t working on them now. Edie’s heart ached for her.

  With a sigh, she finished her fancy soda—a European brand in a big glass bottle, something Tilda had handed her—and set it aside. “Marius….”

  He looked up.

  “How did you know there was a traitor in the Aurora?”

  “It’s a long story,” he said with a sigh.

  Cal snorted, crossing his ankle over one knee. “We’ve got all the time in the world now, Sunshine.”

  “Maybe you do.” Marius rolled his eyes, but told them anyway: “As her proving, my father assigned a vivid hopeful a mission to retrieve some runepriest’s artifact from a troll. It was a mirror that shows the future when you look into it. I saw my father being assassinated, and the word traitor.”

  Edie frowned. “Has he found out who it is yet?”

  “That’s where the problem lies. He has foresight as well, and he either believes that the vision doesn’t mean anything or is confident that no one would be able to assassinate him. But if they were close enough—” The vivid shook his head. “I can’t afford to lose him. None of us can, not now. I laid out my leads to him, but he shot them all down.”

  Fuck. If Marius was concerned, Edie was concerned, too. As much trouble as the Aurora had given her, they were the only thing really holding the Gloaming back at the moment. “So now what?”

  “Now … I don’t know.” Marius paced to one of the couches and sat down. At some point, his right ear had gotten singed, and he fingered the burn thoughtfully. “I suppose I keep looking until I find out who it is. I think I’m getting close.”

  Outside, thunder cracked. Augustus looked at the window with sleepy eyes and lifted a wing, covering Sissel with it.

  “Ack! I’m all good, buddy, I’m good,” the teen complained, easing into a position that didn’t require she be tucked in the drake’s armpit.

  Edie glanced at them, then looked beyond, toward the terrace doors. Through the frosted glass, she could see Satara’s hunched and shivering outline. Why did she want to be out there, soaking? Carefully, Edie untangled herself from Mercy. The room was silent as she walked to the terrace.

  Quietly, she stepped out and closed the door behind her. The terrace was big enough to fit a bar, a long electric fireplace, lawn chairs, and a daybed under the awning. She was surprised at how heavy the rain had become, but Satara seemed unaffected, standing at the edge of the terrace and clutching the parapet. Her head was bowed.

  Edie cleared her throat lightly and came closer until they were standing side by side, looking down at the city together. It felt so strange to think that Astrid wasn’t out there somewhere.

  At length, Satara spoke. “I lost the shield and spear again. She took them. After everything….” Her voice was so thin that the sound was almost lost in the rain.

  “It’s not your fault,” Edie said, feeling unhelpful. She remembered how strange it had been to lose her father. Incomprehensible. Dad was supposed to always be there, and then he wasn’t. Satara’s situation was a little different—she hadn’t lost a parent, exactly—but the hurt was probably similar. It was a helpless, clueless kind of hurt.

  “I have to get them back.”

  Edie straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I promise we will.”

  No words passed between them for a while. Edie found her mind going back to the ritual, replaying it over and over again in her head. She was sure Satara was doing the same.

  Eventually, the shieldmaiden sniffed, raising her head. Her eyes were puffy, deadened. “I need to see the shop. I need to make sure they didn’t send people to upturn it, and I….” She inhaled shakily and turned her face away. “I have to go see it.”

  Even though she knew Satara couldn’t see her, Edie nodded.

  “Will you go with me?” She turned to look at Edie again, her expression open. She looked almost scared that Edie might say no.

  “Yeah. I’ll go with you.”

  God, she wanted to hug Satara. They hadn’t known each other for very long, but Edie cared for her, and they had been the only ones to see Astrid die. Her last moments lived with them. That was a hell of a thing to have in common.

  But she sensed that Satara needed space for now, so she stepped away from the parapet. “I’ll tell the others.”

  Satara dismissed her with a silent wave, and Edie reentered Tilda’s apartment, happy to be back in the warmth. A conversation had been going on between Cal, Mercy, Marius, and Tilda, but when Edie stepped in, it died. They all looked at her expectantly.

  She took a deep breath. “Satara and I are going to Astrid’s shop first thing tomorrow morning. There are some things we need to take care of.�
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  Cal hoisted himself out of his chair with a grunt. “Guess I’m going, too, then.”

  “I’ll come,” Marius said, his tone brooking no argument. “If there are Gloaming there, you’ll need the extra hands.”

  Cal smirked. “You mean extra hand?”

  The vivid shot him a look.

  Sissel yawned. “I’ll come—”

  Before she could even finish her sentence, Tilda was shaking her head. “Not under my watch, young lady. It is late, and your parent will be wondering where you are, no?”

  Sissel rolled her eyes and groaned at the ceiling.

  “Don’t roll your eyes at me.” The wight was now waggling a spoon at her like a proper Romanian grandma. “We kept you alive all day and this is the thanks? Pe dracu’! You will be the one to tell your dad where you’ve been all day and night.”

  The teen sighed and looked down at Augustus, petting his big, blocky head. “But I don’t want to leave. Augustus needs me.”

  “You could always take him with you,” Edie suggested. It probably wasn’t the best idea she’d ever had, but Sissel couldn’t stay here and never see her dad again—that was ridiculous.

  “I guess that would be okay.” Sissel looked at him thoughtfully, screwing up her face. “Dad said I couldn’t have a ferret, but he didn’t say anything about a dragon.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  It rained all night, and when Edie woke the next morning, it was still raining. All the beds in Tilda’s penthouse were downright luxurious; Edie had slept so soundly that she woke up dazed, not quite remembering where she was. She relaxed when she glanced over and saw Mercy on the other side of the queen-sized bed, cocooned in blankets like a princess.

  Careful not to wake her friend, Edie padded softly into the hallway. The clock there read 6:03. Yikes. No wonder the apartment was so quiet.

  She knew vampires and zombies didn’t have to sleep, but she didn’t spot Cal or Tilda as she crept down the long glass staircase to the living area. She did, however, spot a familiar face passed out on one of the couches.