Then he felt a sharp pain in the tendons of his shoulders, as if talons had seized them, and he was jerked upward violently. He felt himself rising, rising, until he was flung violently onto the ground, into the mud. When he heard the clamoring voices of Lindsay and Alex and Davis and Severance, he opened one eye. He was at the edge of the pit—not falling inside it—in a clearing in the middle of the Pine Barrens, surrounded by his friends.
And the Jersey Devil.
“Once a fool,” it said.
Chapter 62
When they compared notes later, Ben reported that he saw the Jersey Devil, though a muted, friendlier version than what he had seen in Barcroft. Its claws were not so frightening, its teeth not as sharp. Cuddly almost, a monster rendered as child’s toy. Lindsay said shyly that the jinn had appeared to her as Marie, the idealized woman she had had an encounter with in the Northwoods, eyes the color of pale lake ice and wrapped in a flowing bedsheet. Alex had seen animikii, the giant thunderbird who created the wind with the beating of its mighty wings. Whenever he was asked, Davis would demure, looking away. Whoever he had seen, it was clearly painful to him.
But in the moment, as they stood around the edge of the pit, all Severance saw was Miranda. Still, it was evident she was more than meets the eye. When Ben had leapt into the hole, Severance saw a winged creature streak past to follow him, as if he had been buzzed by a low-flying bird of prey. Seconds later Miranda had emerged, carrying Ben with ease and tossing him aside.
Then she called Ben an utter fool.
“She means you,” said Davis.
“Yes, I know,” said Ben, getting to his feet. “Thank you very much.”
Severance stared at her, aware he looked a mess, aware his jaw was hanging wide, but unable to present himself in any state other than awe and confusion. Had he been able to tear his eyes from her, he would have noted the others staring after her in the same fashion.
“You’re her, aren’t you?” said Severance. Ben had recounted the story enough that he knew it by heart. And even though Severance had seen Ben vanish with his own eyes into the freezing waters of Lake Superior, only to emerge the next morning unharmed, he could still scarcely believe it. While the redmouths—the ghul—assumed the forms they devoured, her class—the marid—altered perceptions. “You’re McKelvie’s jinn,” he said.
Miranda turned her gaze toward Ben.
“Never called you that,” said Ben, holding his hands up. “He’s totally editorializing.”
“All this time?” asked Severance. He fought to keep his voice from cracking. “How?”
Miranda took a step toward him. She reached for his wrists and pulled him to her. He offered no resistance. She looked up at him with a dazzling smile but sad eyes. Was that pity in them? he wondered.
“When I found my way back here, I had a lot to learn about this new age. After the battle with the ghul, I thought it best to keep an eye on your soldiers. Then I wanted to meet their king.”
“King?” said Ben. Lindsay shushed him.
“I learned loyalty from your friends. Selflessness. But you? You charmed me.”
“I feel a ‘but’ coming…”
She reached out and touched his face. “I thought I could hide here, with you, but I know now that I can’t. I can’t pass up this opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” asked Alex.
She addressed the rest of them. “You have no idea what you’ve done. Mortally wounding one of the ancient ones? The first jinn? All I need to do is deal it a killing blow and I’ll be a legend. They’ll fear my name in every room of the infinite palace.”
“Or you could stay,” said Richard quietly.
She leaned in and kissed him.
“As much as I’d like to be your queen, Richard Severance,” she said, “it’s time to be a god.”
She turned her back on them and stood at the edge of the pit. Severance stared at his feet, which he realized were bare. The feelers had stripped him of his shoes and socks. He gripped the cold mud with his toes. It kept him from falling over, from watching her leave, from crying.
“Hey,” said Lindsay.
Miranda turned and Lindsay pitched her the blade, pommel first. Miranda caught it, regarded it, and smiled.
“Right between the eyes,” said Lindsay.
Miranda nodded, then waited for Severance to look up. “Thanks for a great vacation. See you around, love,” she said, then leapt and was gone.
They stood around the lip of the pit not saying anything. After a moment there was another tremor, smaller than the others, and the edge surrounding the lip of the pit began to cave in, but instead of a widening gyre, the dirt and sandy soil rotated in a diminishing whorl, until all that was left to mark what had transpired there was a crater in the middle of the field, matching the depression Severance felt in his chest.
He stood at the edge of it and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and looked up, blinking, as if the difference of a few extra inches of altitude might dry his eyes.
“Same old story,” he said. “Boy meets girl. Girl turns out to be a genie, leaves boy to slay a nightmarish interdimensional monster. If I had a nickel for every time—”
Severance felt a hand on his shoulder and stopped speaking. When he turned, he was surprised to see it was McKelvie.
“That was a jinn. A legendary magical creature.” Ben nodded. “And she…with you…”
“If you say something crude, McKelvie, I swear…”
“She fell in love with you, man. With you. And we all thought you were just an asshole.” Ben smiled, squeezed Severance’s shoulder, and gave it a rough shake. “That’s pretty cool, right?”
To his amazement, Severance found himself smiling back at him.
Will wonders never cease?
It had been a night of surprises. They all felt the beating of the air and raised their hands to block the sudden rush of wind. Erica debarked from the Eurocopter and shouted over the whirling rotors, “That was the most badass shit I’ve ever seen!”
With no more preamble than that, she strode past them one by one until she reached Lindsay. She wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her close, dipped her backward, and planted a wet kiss on her. Lindsay’s hands fluttered up for a moment, then wrapped around Erica as well. Severance glanced at Ben, who, to his surprise, was smiling even wider.
Chapter 63
Breaux abandoned any semblance of stealth. He moved as quickly as his burden would allow: two large backpacks slung over each shoulder, loaded with Nazi gold. He struggled against the weight of them, and they swung beneath his arms, the bars shifting in the bags, making low tolling sounds. He was already out of breath, but he was not about to stop. He had grabbed as much as he could and thought, I can always come back for the rest.
But after he saw what he saw, he knew he would never return to Välkommen. Breaux was just superstitious enough to register bad vibes when he felt them, and the camp had always had some bad juju. And it had all gone pear-shaped tonight.
He had fulfilled his duties to Drexler. And in so doing he had created a hell of a diversion to slip away in, while still managing to spare a kindness for an old brother, although ol’ Galahad likely wouldn’t see it that way.
Then he remembered what came next: Drexler taking out his own son.
Seriously fucked up.
Breaux had been paid to maintain order until the time came. The time for what exactly, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t paid to know, nor did he give a shit. He didn’t care what crazy-ass Charlie Manson business Drexler was up to, so long as he got the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And when Breaux fled the stage finally, and followed the old man’s coordinates, there it was. A cache of Nazi gold bars, the beautiful brothers and sisters of the one Drexler had given him in his office. He loaded himself down with as much as he could carry and vanished into the woods. In moments he passed through the ribbon, into the camera field, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. The cameras registering and recording
movement, he thought, and he grinned at the image he knew was being sent to him at that very moment: the back of a very wealthy man, receding into the darkness.
He smiled until he heard the semiautomatic rifles in the distance.
The Black Cadre.
He didn’t understand them either. Truth be told, they gave him the creeps, but they did what they were told. And from the sounds of the rifle fire and the attendant screaming of the crowds, he guessed they had been told to fire into the crowd. It began to dawn on him that maybe Drexler wasn’t into some Charlie Manson–type shit after all, but rather some Jim Jones–type shit. How long would it be before Drexler sent the Black Cadre into the woods after him? Let ’em try, he thought.
Then came the tremors, which knocked him off his feet, and the deep, otherworldly bellowing that he heard as much in his gut as he did with his ears…
Any way you sliced it, thought Breaux, it was time to get the hell out of Dodge. He picked up the pace.
Over a mile out, he allowed himself to slow for a moment at the edge of a small ravine to catch his breath. He straightened again, rearranged his load, and crossed the stream.
He heard a faint sound on the wind. Another chiming. Not the deep tolling of the gold at his sides, but higher, tinny. Hollow.
Cowbells, he thought.
He had covered every inch of the woods during recon and there wasn’t a farm around for miles. He shook his head and continued.
A figure emerged from the stand of trees in front of him and he started. A man in a strange ghillie suit with all manner of bells hung from it. He wore an odd mask with powder burns on it and a gash stitched to resemble teeth.
“The hell are you supposed to be?”
As if in answer, another large figure emerged from the trees on the other side of the path. This one was dressed in a stag’s hide, with an antlered head atop its broad shoulders.
Breaux smiled. The old man had betrayed him after all. He let the gold fall to the ground, the heavy tones sounding like a clarion call. Rather than reach for his gun, he went for the sheath at his back and pulled his blade. The one with MOTHER etched on its sides.
“All right then,” he said, laughing. “Let’s dance.”
Chapter 64
On a bright Saturday morning in early June, Lindsay turned the rental car down the long, familiar dirt road to the main house. Erica sat beside her, her bare feet on the dashboard, mirrored sunglasses on. Trees did not hem in that long entrance road, the main house, or the surrounding property as they had in Välkommen—this was corn country—but she felt a similar claustrophobia. A similar dread. She pulled to a slow stop in front of the weather-beaten house.
Erica pulled her feet down from the dashboard, slipped them into her wedges.
“No,” said Lindsay. “Like I said, I have to do this solo.”
“You sure?”
“I’m just glad you’re here.”
Erica grinned as she reclined the car seat and put her feet back on the dash. “Should I keep the car running? In case you need a quick exfil?”
Lindsay got out of the car and into a perfect day. The sky was so blue it could bring tears to one’s eyes, and for a moment, Lindsay remembered with a twinge of sadness that these sorts of days had been her favorite on the farm. At the sound of a car door, a mutt wheeled around from behind the house and charged her. For a moment her heart leapt. It was the same breed, the same size and color as her old dog, but it was not the same dog. That dog had long since gone, but this place had never been friendly to change. The imposter dog came no closer than the edge of the dirt road.
“Hello there.”
She said it politely, as if she were addressing someone she had no choice to speak to, then walked past it. She mounted the front porch steps. When she looked back for the dog, it had already padded off back behind the house. She looked back at the car, which was still there, took a deep breath, and knocked.
An older woman answered the storm door, but kept the screen door closed. She looked older, more frail than Lindsay remembered. A bit stooped and her hair laced with more gray. More weathered, as if the winds that blew through here had carried off anything on her face that wasn’t fastened tight. The woman looked hard, but her eyes were the same.
“Mom,” said Lindsay.
They stood regarding each other through the screen door for a moment, shock evident on her mother’s face, before the woman shook her head and offered a forced laugh.
“I didn’t know you were coming. I—where are my manners, come in…”
“No thanks, I can’t stay.”
The older woman looked over Lindsay’s shoulder and down the porch steps toward the rental car, the woman in the passenger seat. Lindsay looked too. Erica rolled her head on the headrest in their direction, saw them looking at her through her mirrored sunglasses, and flashed the peace sign.
“Would your…friend like to come up?”
“She’s not my friend, Mom. She’s my girlfriend. And all that entails.”
“Oh.”
Lindsay let the silence hang in the air between them. She looked around the porch. Nothing had changed. She looked over the railing with chipped paint, ducked down, and caught a glimpse of the perfect blue sky. It hadn’t changed either. She turned back to her mother. Somewhere in the house was her father, likely peering at her through a curtain, and it was a certainty he had not changed either.
“It’s been a strange couple of years for me. There’s no point getting into the particulars, but I really could’ve used parents.”
“Lindsay, we’ve discussed that as long—”
Lindsay held up her hand. “No. I’m not here to renegotiate terms.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I came here to tell you that I am no longer seeking your favor. I’m not striving to meet your conditions or earn your forgiveness or a relationship or anything. I wasn’t doing that already, but I came here to tell you that I reject the very notion.”
“So you came here to be rude then?”
Lindsay took a step toward the screen door. Behind it, her mother flinched.
“I don’t know if you actually subscribe to the bullshit Dad feeds you, but when it came time to pick sides, you picked his.”
“Let me get your father.”
“Don’t bother. I met a father who moved mountains for his son, and in the brief time I spent with him, he was more of a father to me than Dad ever was. Seeing that, feeling that…it was a revelation. I felt”—she held her hand up to her chest, as if clutching an invisible heart, trying to find the words—“family. In that moment, I felt family. That guy would’ve crossed any border for his son. My father won’t even cross a room for me.”
She leaned in and spoke a notch louder.
“But I know you can hear me. I just came to say, ‘I’m done.’ Truth be told, I was already long done. I have a new family now, but it occurred to me that my old one might still be here, thinking I gave a shit about their opinion.”
Lindsay’s mother lifted her chin. “You obviously cared enough to come back, though, didn’t you?”
“Don’t go getting a spine on me now, Mom. You don’t get to judge me. You’re not worthy.”
Her mother’s chin fell.
“I came to say goodbye. Last time it was on your terms. This time it’s on mine.” She turned and walked down the porch steps.
“Lindsay…” her mother called, but she kept walking.
“Tell Dad the house looks like shit.”
She got into the car and Erica stared at her with one eyebrow raised over her shades.
“I take it back, girl. That might be the most badass thing I’ve ever seen. Wanna get naked right here?”
Lindsay blew out a big breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and laughed.
“Maybe later.”
“Seriously, you okay?”
Lindsay nodded. “It was long overdue. I feel like I have another chance, you know? And I don’t want to wast
e a second on people or things that are weighing me down.”
“High speed, low drag,” said Erica.
“I like that.”
“I like you.”
Erica leaned in and after a long kiss, Lindsay said, “Let’s get out of here.”
Lindsay put the car in drive. They were back at Monroe County Airport outside of Bloomington and back on Severance’s Gulfstream G150 within the hour. One of the perks of working for the man, Erica had explained. Full access to his stable of aircraft and vehicles. She could roam as far and wide as she wanted, as long as she was there when he needed her. The flip side was that when he needed her might mean 1 A.M. on a Tuesday to fly him to his favorite bar in the French Quarter for the perfect Sazerac, but she confessed that she loved those trips too. Now Lindsay found herself in a similar arrangement. Director Bankbridge at the zoo had resigned abruptly. He had told the staff it was to pursue other interests, but there were whispers among the curators that there had been complaints by the donors. Lindsay had not asked for this and Severance had scoffed at the notion that he had anything to do with it, but then he winked. What she had explicitly asked for, he granted immediately: Slip the horse was stabled just outside of D.C., all expenses paid, and he belonged to Lindsay.
The women flopped into the leather club chairs and stared at each other.
“Anywhere you want to go, Clark, I’ll take you,” said Erica.
Lindsay smiled and said, “Arlington.”
“Seriously?” Erica looked dejected.
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