Black Spring

by Christina Henry

  The river churned, waves rising abruptly. The water turned a poisonous green and steam rose from the surface. A group of kayakers appeared shocked by the sudden change in conditions and paddled quickly back toward their launch site.

  “He’s angry,” I said, glancing up at the glass surface of the tower. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him there.

  “In the event you have not noticed, so am I,” Nathaniel said. “Madeline, tell me why it was necessary to confront Alerian. We gained nothing from this.”

  I pulled my gaze away from the river and looked at Nathaniel, who appeared to be restraining himself at great cost.

  “We did gain something,” I said. “I know what Alerian plans to do.”

  Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose. “How is that possible?”

  “When Alerian grabbed hold of me, he tried to push his power down in me. He was too distracted to notice the flow of magic moving both ways. In that instant when I fought back and broke away, he was surprised, and in his surprise he revealed something that he hadn’t intended to show. I saw just a flash of it, but it was there.”

  I paused, watching the water. The waves were dying down, the color returning to normal. Alerian was drawing back, mastering his anger.

  “Let’s walk a little,” I said. My baby turned and kicked inside me, and my encounter with Alerian had filled me with restless energy that flying wouldn’t burn off.

  Nathaniel fell into step beside me. “Are you planning to tell me just what it was you saw when you peeked into Alerian’s mind?”

  “He’s going to use the city of Chicago to herd anyone out of the ordinary into his camp. Then he’s going to use one of his shapeshifters to control the whole mass as an army to start killing off humans. He’s breaking Lucifer’s toy, wiping the slate clean,” I said. “It’s diabolical, really. We know about the plan but it’s difficult to stop. He’s got the machinery of the city in motion, so even if we remove Alerian from the equation, all the supernatural creatures would still be rounded up and fenced in. We could find some way to prevent Alerian from controlling them as an army, but all the supernaturals will still be in one place. And what do you think will happen then?”

  “A leader will rise. Someone who would tell them that they need not submit to human law,” Nathaniel said. “A revolution would begin.”

  I nodded. “And it would spread to other places and other cities, and humans would be killed. There would be total chaos, and Alerian’s purpose would be served regardless.”

  “What if we can stop the imprisonment of supernatural creatures before it happens?” Nathaniel asked.

  “I’m not sure how. Like I said earlier today, there will doubtless be motivation for ordinary humans to turn in their not-so-ordinary neighbors. The collection may have begun already. And if we encourage those creatures to resist—”

  “Fighting would inevitably ensue, and deaths, and chaos,” Nathaniel finished. “You are correct. It is diabolical. No matter how we examine the problem the ultimate outcome is the same, and Alerian obtains what he desires.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Maybe we’re just not looking at it the right way. Maybe we need the rest of the brain trust.”

  I wondered what J.B. would think of all this. I hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of weeks. He’d taken a leave of absence from the Agency after I’d killed Titania. He needed to spend some quality time with his faerie court. He was a king by right and by blood, but since he was almost never there tending to his courtiers, there was often a lot of rebellious grumbling.

  The death of the High Queen of Faerie and her only son, Bendith, caused sufficient ripples through the faerie world that J.B. deemed it prudent to spend some time acting like a king. Since I’d been the one to take out the High Queen (and a lot of faerie were angry with me about that), he had also deemed it prudent that I not try to get in touch with him while he was there. Which was too bad, because J.B.’s advice would probably be useful.

  “It is some consolation that we now know the identity of the shapeshifter’s master,” Nathaniel said.

  “No, we don’t,” I said with a hollow laugh.

  Nathaniel looked puzzled. “You said Alerian would use his shapeshifter to control his army, as in days of old.”

  “Yeah, a new shapeshifter that he hasn’t made yet. He wouldn’t risk Daharan discovering and destroying the new one before he had a chance to really get his plans under way,” I said. “And there was something else, another shadow working in the background, I think. There was a flash of something that I saw but couldn’t latch on to.”

  “So there is another master for the creature that tried to attack you this morning,” Nathaniel said.

  “Yup,” I said. “Nothing is ever easy when I’m involved. And here’s the worst of it. Have you thought of how Lucifer will respond once he figures out what Alerian’s up to?”

  “If it appears that Alerian is raising an army for his own purpose, then Lucifer will declare war on his brother,” Nathaniel said. He took my hand and held it tight.

  “Boom! goes the world,” I said. “No matter what story plays out, that seems to be the result.”

  “Perhaps you could speak to Lucifer, make him see reason. Perhaps you could even influence him to halt Alerian’s plans,” he said.

  “I think you are vastly overestimating the effect I have on Lucifer. Plus, when has Lucifer ever done anything out of the goodness of his heart?” I said with a pointed look at my belly. “He’s made it clear from the start that he wants my baby. If I ask him to help out with Alerian or to give up what he would view as his rightful vengeance for Alerian’s behavior, then he will want something really good in exchange. Like my child. Or me as his heir.

  “Daharan might be able to influence Lucifer,” I continued, “but I don’t think he can do much with Alerian. He keeps talking about how their powers are in opposition to one another.”

  “He says that, but he can influence Alerian when he so chooses,” Nathaniel said. “He forced Alerian to give up the shapeshifters, do you not recall?”

  “Hey, you’re right,” I said, wondering why I hadn’t realized this before. “Why does he keep acting like he can’t do anything?”

  “Perhaps he believes that if he repeats it often enough, you will think it is true, and not question his motives,” Nathaniel said.

  For the first time I felt a flicker of doubt. Did Daharan have some sinister purpose here? Was he in fact working with Alerian? Was it his job to lead me away from Alerian’s true intentions, to distract me?

  I shook my head. “No. Daharan doesn’t mean me any harm. If he won’t go up against Alerian, it’s for some reason of his own. And if I ask him, he will tell me.”

  Nathaniel looked doubtful. “I hope your trust in him is not misplaced.”

  We had walked east in an aimless manner, unconsciously putting distance between us and Alerian’s wrath. I realized we had ended up on Michigan Avenue. “Let’s go to the Ghirardelli shop by Water Tower.”

  “There is a crisis of epic proportions at hand and you are thinking about chocolate?” he asked.

  “No, I’m thinking about ice cream. Ice cream with peanut butter and hot fudge and whipped cream on top,” I said, heading north through the usual midday cluster of people on Michigan.

  “There is a crisis of epic proportions at hand and you are thinking about ice cream?” he said.

  I laughed, taking his hand. “I’m pregnant and I will not be denied. Besides, there’s a crisis of epic proportions every five seconds around here.”

  “I love you, but I do not understand you,” Nathaniel said, allowing me to tug him in the direction of the store.

  We strolled along, not speaking much. I was trying to enjoy the moment, to allow myself these few moments to pretend that we were as normal as we looked. It was not the first time I had wished that my life had turned out differently, that I had a future that didn’t involve blood and magic and darkness covering the world.

  As a child I’d year
ned for sitcom normality—a mother who packed Wonder Bread lunches and volunteered at school instead of running off to collect souls at all hours, a dad who was actually present. Even though I loved Beezle and could not imagine life without him, there were still occasions when I wished for a puppy instead of a grumpy talking gargoyle.

  Over time I’d come to a kind of peace with the presence of the Agency in my life. But since I’d discovered my relationship to some of the most powerful creatures in history, I yearned for that normality more than ever. The impending birth of my son only intensified this feeling.

  Parents want their children to have what they did not, and I had never had stability. I did not want my baby to enter a world that was constantly under the threat of magical destruction. I especially did not want him to grow up like I did, always waiting at the window hoping Mommy would come home to give me a kiss before bedtime.

  The worst of it was that I could not see how I could change my fate, or his. Everywhere I turned there was another wall to box me in.

  “Madeline?” Nathaniel said. Something in his tone told me he had tried to get my attention more than once.

  I shook my head, wishing I could shake away my gloomy contemplations of the future. “Sorry.”

  “We have arrived,” he said, pointing at the white-and-blue awning in front of us.

  The intense craving that had seized me earlier had by this time faded, but ice cream would still help my mood. There is no mood that cannot be improved by a giant sundae.

  Nathaniel expressed no interest in eating. He watched me enthusiastically attack my ice cream, all the while wearing what I thought of as his I-do-not-comprehend-humans expression.

  “Don’t you like ice cream?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Most angels do not see the appeal of sugar. It does not seem to affect us as it does humans.”

  I thought back and realized I’d never seen Gabriel or Nathaniel eat anything dessert-like.

  “Is it because of differences in body chemistry?” I wondered aloud. “Or because angels have such long lives that simple things become boring?”

  “Perhaps some of both,” he said. “I have often wished I could take comfort in small pleasures, as you do.”

  Somehow it had never occurred to me that Nathaniel might have some of the same longings I did, a desire to be more human. Part of this was because he had expressed contempt for humanity so often that I’d assumed he would never give up any aspect of the “superiority” of angels. The changes that occurred since his magical legacy had been released still surprised me.

  “Well, there’s no time like the present to start learning,” I said.

  I scooped a big spoonful of vanilla ice cream mixed with hot fudge and peanut butter sauce and held it out to him, smiling.

  He looked at me, then at the spoon, then back at me again. The smile faded from my face. Suddenly the action seemed fraught with implication. Something shifted in his eyes. There was a light and a heat that was not there before. My hand seemed frozen in place, and everything inside me stilled. I could not take my eyes from his mouth as it moved toward the spoon.

  “Ms. Madeline Black?” a voice asked from somewhere above my left shoulder.

  I dropped the spoon to the table with a clatter, the spell broken. Several patrons glanced over at the noise and my face reddened. The shop seating area was small and the tables were stacked beside one another with barely enough room to maneuver through the aisles so privacy was completely nonexistent.

  Nathaniel calmly wiped the ice cream from the table with a napkin as I turned to glare at the person who had interrupted us.

  It was a tall man with blond hair curling over his brow and the tops of his ears. His eyes were a brilliant green, like the poisonous shade of the river, and he was dressed like an Ermenegildo Zegna ad. There was something about him that struck me as familiar. In his right hand he held a creamy white envelope with a seal I recognized on the back. The snake tattoo on my palm twitched.

  “Whatever you’ve got, I don’t want it,” I said. I pushed the half-eaten sundae away from me, any pleasure I took in the moment sucked out by the presence of a messenger from my second-least-favorite relation.

  “Lord Lucifer expected you to respond thus and instructed me to wait while you read his missive,” the messenger said in a carrying voice.

  If anyone had not been looking at us before, they certainly were now, especially after they heard the word “Lucifer.” Some people looked confused, like they thought the guy was kidding. Others looked offended, frightened or suspicious. They may not know for sure whether Lucifer existed, but everyone in Chicago knew there were bad things loose in the world.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I hissed at the messenger. “Go outside, for the love of Pete. I’ll be out in a second.”

  He looked doubtful, like I was going to try to slip away from him somehow. “Lord Lucifer instructed me to—”

  “Shut. Up,” I said through my teeth as I came to my feet. All I wanted was for him to stop talking and everyone to stop looking. Pretty soon someone would put my face together with the video footage of me destroying the vampires at Soldier Field, and then who knew what would happen?

  I didn’t want to wait to find out. I waved the messenger ahead of me as I waddled my way out of the seating area and past the bar where the ice cream was prepared. The stares of everyone who had witnessed the scene pressed into my back.

  Nathaniel moved up beside me as we followed the messenger out to the sidewalk. As soon as we were outdoors, Lucifer’s errand boy turned to me with the envelope. I snatched it from his hand but did not open it. The Ghirardelli store was next to a Topshop and only half a block from Michigan Avenue. There were a ton of people walking back and forth, and a lot of women giving both Nathaniel and the messenger admiring glances. A little privacy was necessary.

  We crossed Pearson and went into the little park next to the water tower. There were several benches with people on them, checking their phones, reading magazines, eating potato chips. I looked for a semi-secluded area where I could read what was in the envelope. Anger and embarrassment coursed through me. I was beyond tired of having every decent moment in my life ruined by Lucifer, and I was in a bad enough mood to take it out on the messenger.

  “Are you one of his kids?” I asked as I tore the seal from the envelope.

  I really did not want to see what was inside. Every time I received a letter from Lucifer he asked (read: ordered) me to perform some crappy task that would endanger my life and create more enemies.

  “One of whom’s?” the messenger asked.

  “Lucifer’s, of course,” I said. “You’ve got that look. What’s your name?”

  He seemed surprised. “My name is Zaniel, and yes, Lord Lucifer is my father.”

  “Who’s your mother?”

  “Ariell,” he said with a trace of stiffness in his voice.

  I’d started to unfold the paper but stopped at the name, staring at Zaniel in surprise.

  “Ariell the psycho? Ariell who I—” I stopped, realizing what I was about to say.

  Zaniel finished for me, his green eyes stony. “Killed. Yes.”

  That meant this character was Samiel’s half brother. They shared the same mother. And while Samiel had come around pretty quickly to the idea that the world was better off without Ariell, there was no guarantee Zaniel would feel the same.

  “What’s Lucifer’s game in sending you to me?” I asked.

  “I do not understand what you mean,” he said.

  “Are you normally his errand boy, or is this a new thing?”

  “This is the first occasion in which Lord Lucifer has entrusted me with—”

  I cut him off. “So he sent you here for a reason. I just need to figure out what that reason is.”

  “It is not for us to know Lord Lucifer’s ways,” he said.

  “It is for me. I’m the one who’s always getting screwed over by his plans.”

  While Zaniel and I
had our little exchange, Nathaniel took the letter from my hand, opened it and read it.

  “I do not see that you are ‘getting screwed,’ as you say. Lord Lucifer showers you with honors far beyond your status. You are only a distant heir in the bloodline, not even an immediate child.” There was a strong note of jealousy in his voice.

  “You want my ‘honors’? You can have them. Every time Lucifer has some shit job he wants done that involves bloodletting some freaky monster, I get the privilege of handling it.”

  “That is the right of the Hound of the Hunt,” he said. “By making you, one of his own bloodline, the Hound, Lord Lucifer sent a clear message to all his children that you are preferred.”

  “Yeah, well—” I started, but was cut off by Nathaniel.

  “Madeline,” he said.

  I looked at him. He handed me the paper without a word, and I finally read the missive that was so important that Zaniel had to interrupt my day.

  I’d been wrong. It wasn’t an assignment from my darling great-grandfather.

  It was an invitation.

  And boy, I did not want to attend this party.

  5

  It read, in fancy italics:

  You are cordially invited to share in our joy

  At the marriage of

  Lucifer Morningstar, First of the Fallen

  And

  His One True Love,

  Evangeline of the Bone-eaters Tribe

  At our home

  Saturday, May 15th at 5pm

  Dinner to follow

  RSVP Immediately

  I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Lucifer was formally marrying Evangeline, my psychotic, eyeless, one-armed, many-greats-grandmother. That meant that her child, the one they’d conceived while Lucifer visited Evangeline in the land of the dead, would become his heir, no question about it.

  And that meant me and my offspring were out of it, which was absolutely a relief. Hopefully Evangeline would act less crazy once her position was secured.

  However, I did not think it was a good idea for me to walk into the parlor of the spider. A confrontation with Evangeline in her own home would probably go badly for me.