by Mike Shevdon
Alex collected the discarded shotgun from the floor, the weight of it clearly more than she was expecting.
"Do you know how to use that?"
She shook her head. "I've seen it done," she said, "and I can learn." She pumped the reload, chambering a round and resting the butt against her thigh, pointing it at the ceiling.
I pressed the barrel aside, gently. "Leave it. It will only weigh you down."
She appeared to consider for a moment and then dropped it on the corpse. "Didn't do him any good," she said.
I bent down and retrieved my sword.
"Do you know how to use that?" she asked.
It was a cheeky question, one that would have drawn a rebuke from me only a short while ago. I looked at my daughter and for the first time I realised that whatever had happened to her in this place, it had changed her. She had been on her own, beyond rescue or reprieve, and she had endured. The little girl I lost could not have done that. She had been forced to become something else.
Garvin said that the person I got back might not be the person I knew and maybe he was right. It didn't mean she was mad, though the incident with Watkins's severed head left me wondering, but it did mean that things would never be as they were. My little girl had gone, and I was going to have to find out what had replaced her. There would be time for that later. Her challenge remained, though.
"I'm told that I am competent with it," I said. "Though probably no more than that."
She must have heard the truth in my words, because she raised one eyebrow very slightly.
"I've been having lessons."
That was another thing. We routinely lie to our children. We tell them what's good for them, what we need them to know, and what it suits us to tell them. I was going to have to get used to not lying to my daughter. She would know as soon as I did.
I wrapped the glamour around us again, this time being careful to dampen any sound. We established a rhythm: me moving forward, then Alex following when I had established that all was clear. We found a trail of bodies. Raffmir had been busy. Most of them were in military uniform. The soldiers must have been moving the staff and patients out as they worked their way down. The place was deserted.
Once we were past the doors to the stairs there was less debris and fewer bodies. I retraced our route, passing up through the building, taking one stair flight at a time with Alex following. As far as I could tell, the building was deserted. We were the only living things left, which left me wondering what they planned to do next. Alex and I needed to be out, and quickly.
As we rose through the building a pervading vibration turned into a persistent thudding. By the time we reached the stairs to the rooftop and our escape route, I realised they had a helicopter circling the building. As we climbed the stairs its noise became a voice-drowning clatter. I had to shout to be heard.
"Wait here until I shout for you. I'm going up to get a clear view of our way out. When I shout, come up and grab tight hold of me. Don't hesitate. We won't have long."
She nodded her understanding and I took the steps up to the roof access. As I emerged on to the roof, the helicopter swung around the building, a huge thing with twin rotors which thudded through the air as if it was eating it in gulps. From a hatch in the side, a long gun swung sideways, aiming straight at me. I threw myself backwards.
The gun erupted in flame, sending a stream of bright fire in an arc across the access door. As I fell backwards through the hatch, the door was carved in two, sending splinters flying like needles through the air. I tumbled back down the stairs into Alex, rolling into her, the deafening roar of the gunfire rattling in my ears. Then it ceased.
I found myself lying head down on the steps, looking up into my daughter's face.
"Are you hurt?" she shouted.
I shuffled around, so I could sit, patting myself down, looking for fresh wounds. The only blood was where I had taken the shotgun blast. My instinctive reaction to throw myself backwards down the stairwell had saved me.
"No, I'm OK. I can't get to the roof, though. We can't leave if we can't see where we're going."
"Back down," she said. "We can break the windows in the offices below. They can't cover all of them."
It was my turn to nod. I led the way back down the stairwell. At the bottom I heard shouts. As I thrust the door open, gunfire echoed in the corridor. I slammed the door shut again. It was not built to withstand an assault, but it would slow them down. Placing my hand on it, I used my magic to seal it shut. It was the first trick I ever learned, and they would not get through it easily. I propelled Alex back up the stairs ahead of me. Within seconds a burst of bullets pierced the door below us, ricocheting off the metal steps.
"We're trapped," shouted Alex over the thudding of the helicopter.
She was right.
The noise from below as the men in the corridor tried to break through the door was almost drowned out by the helicopter circling above the roof. Even though I had sealed the lower door with magic, it would not take them long to break through it. They only needed a small hole and they could toss through a hand-grenade. In the confined space of the stairwell, the blast would kill us both. We had no time and nowhere to go.
"We're going up," I shouted to Alex, leading her away from the banging at the doorway. Thankfully the door was delaying them longer than I had hoped.
"What about the helicopter?"
I looked up the stairwell. Every thirty seconds or so, the helicopter circled around. Whatever I did would have to be done in that time.
I looked down the steps, wondering how much time we had. Not long.
"Get down on to the middle steps," I shouted to Alex. "Be ready to come up when I call you."
"You're mad! You can't go up there!" shouted Alex. She grabbed my arm, her fingers clinging to the jacket sleeve.
"No. Trust me. Shield your eyes."
"My eyes?"
"Just do as you're told for once, will you?"
She looked up at me and I could see the words forming on her lips: Don't tell me what to do.
Instead, she nodded and released my sleeve.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, then took the steps up as far as I dared. I could hear the giant helicopter, the rhythmic thudding of the twin rotors, the whistle of the engines. I waited until I had the cycle in my head and then drew all the power I could.
The air chilled instantly, frost riming on the rails for the stairs. I heard the chopper engines falter and then whine with renewed force as the helicopter swept past the open doorway. I opened the dark well of power within me, feeling the prickle as white fingers of light crept around my hands. The world fell into a smoky veil. I could see through the walls of the small stair enclosure to the dark blocks of the air conditioners arrayed around the roof. I could see the insubstantial shape of the helicopter, wheeling around above me, its rotors too fast to perceive, the heavy steel of the machine gun poking inelegantly from its side.
The light from my aura must have attracted their attention, because another burst of fire swept across the open doorway above my head in a rattling crescendo, peppering me with brick fragments and concrete shards. I did my best to ignore it.
I cupped my hands in front of me. I had seen this done only once, but I thought I knew how it worked. The space between my hands was empty and not empty. It contained only air. I was a creature of the void. Blackbird could do things with air and fire, but that was not my element. My element was the void, the space between things. It was what kept matter from collapsing in on itself. It was what kept everything apart from everything else.
What happened, though, when it didn't? What happened when the space between things contracted, so that they came together in ways they were weren't supposed to?
I took the tiniest part of space and pulled the void from it. There was a fizzle and a pop.
Concentrating, I tried again. I reached in with my will, keeping it small, drawing the void into itself from the area between my hands. A
spark fizzed into life and then crackled with energy. As the space around it bent, it grew brighter until it threw my shadows on to all the walls.
Another burst of gunfire hit the access, showering me with dust and brick chips. Where they fell into the spark, they vanished and it grew.
Opening my hands slowly, I allowed it to float, splitting my concentration between maintaining the spark and timing the helicopter's circles. If this was to work, I would have to get it right. Its noise grew as it thudded past the open doorway and then circled away.
I walked up the steps.
The helicopter circled round behind me, its view momentarily blocked. My spine itched with tension as I lifted my hands and let the spark rise and grow. I concentrated on feeding it, collapsing it into itself, seeing it brighten into an arc-light and then into a tiny star.
The chopper thudded into view. I heard the motor of the machine gun whine up to speed. If I left it any later I would be sliced in half.
I sent the star arcing into the sky into the path of the helicopter. The reaction was instant. The chopper tipped sideways and banked hard, klaxons screaming raucously from the open hatchway, The machine gun sent a stream of tracer out into the empty sky as it tipped wildly. Flares streamed out in pulses, bursting from the sides, aiming to distract a heat-seeker from its target.
This was no heat-seeker. The star rose ever brighter, unerringly following as the helicopter banked hard, the rotors chopping into the air. Everything stood out in harsh brightness, walls bleached of colour, shadows etched in black, sliding over surfaces as the star flew, chasing its target. The helicopter tipped and banked again, aiming to turn away. The star buried itself deep into it.
There was a flash, brighter than daylight, brighter than anything. It streamed from every doorway, every pinprick hole in the helicopter, outlining it against the blistering light. I covered my eyes with my hands, clearly seeing the bones outlined through them. A screaming, squealing, grinding clash of metal echoed across the sky.
The chopper exploded.
The shockwave thudded through me, a low pulse of destruction. Fire and metal rained down. Chunks of fuselage, scything lengths of rotor, metres long, strewed themselves out. The sky filled with a boiling cloud of thunderous fire, rolling ponderously upwards.
I was thrown backwards, sliding down the metal stairs, sheltering in the access as fragments rained down. When I opened my eyes, Alex was standing over me, looking down. I could not interpret her expression. It might have been fear.
There was a dull thud from below. The doorway had finally given way. I got to my feet. Opening the well of darkness within me, I drew energy into me until I glowed with an aura of white fire. I tugged my daughter out on to a rooftop scattered with burning debris, acrid with smoke and burning oil. Focusing on the distant hill, I hugged her close to me, pressing her skin to mine. The world faded before me and I stepped behind it, emerging through the flash on to the distant hilltop.
Looking back, we could see the plume of black smoke rising over the buildings and drifting out across the darkened moorland. Sirens wailed and blue and red lights flickered. Tiny figures ran around, shots echoed out, but there was no one left to fight.
We were free.
TWENTY-SIX
When Blackbird first showed me the Ways, the means to travel far across country on a wave of power, I was blown away by it. I was expecting the same reaction from Alex.
All she said was, "S'OK."
We travelled slowly, one Way-node at a time, in the knowledge that both of us were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I shepherded her through each point until we arrived at the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what to expect when we reached our destination. Where else could I go?
I couldn't return to the guest house with my daughter in tow, not without first establishing what had happened after I left. Had they found the boat? Was Shelley OK? What about the missing men? Were the police involved? I needed somewhere safe, not an inquisition.
The house in the woods had burned and there was no way I could take Alex back to her mother, even if her house wasn't still being watched. There were too many questions to answer there too. We would have to answer them in due course, but not now, not tonight.
The High Courts had once said that they would accept my daughter if she inherited my fey bloodline.
That was a promise and the Feyre kept their promises.
I was relying on it.
We arrived at the Way-node under the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what welcome we would receive, whether I was still a Warder and if I had any right to be there at all.
Unsure what reception I would receive from the other Warders when they found out where I had been and what I had done, we arrived cautiously, first me, then Alex. I caught her as she stumbled into me off the node, the rush of adrenalin finally drained from her, her knees shaking from exhaustion.
Slimgrin and Amber were guarding the node.
Slimgrin immediately disappeared upstairs while Amber took the sword from me and simply guided us to the floor against the wall where we could rest, our backs against the stone. It was only then that I noticed that Alex was still wearing the open-backed hospital gown from the test lab. She was practically naked. I put my arm around her and she collapsed across me, her head resting on my chest, her dark curls winding under my hand as I stroked her hair. I could feel her trembling as she breathed.
They could do what they liked. I wasn't moving for anyone.
Then people started arriving. Everyone talked at once. They were all asking me questions. I couldn't hear them, or if I could hear them I didn't know which one to answer first. Was I hurt? Was Alex hurt? Did I know that Altair had gone and taken Raffmir with him? Where had the blood come from? Why hadn't I told them what I intended to do?
"Silence!" Garvin's voice cut across the mayhem.
In the quiet that followed, one figure crept between them, inserting herself under my other arm and resting against me.
Blackbird.
I kissed her head and stroked her shoulder while Garvin gave orders. Rooms were to be prepared, clothes to be provided, food was summoned, Amber was to carry Alex while Tate helped me to my feet.
"No." I held my daughter close as Amber tried to collect the sleeping Alex from me like a floppy child. "Don't take her from me."
Alex's eyes opened suddenly and she grabbed my arm, suddenly aware that we were being separated. Her eyes had a corona of lavender fire and there was a low rumbling from beneath the ground.
"Fionh!" Garvin's voice cut across the murmurs. "Damp it down!"
"I'm trying," said Fionh. "She's strong."
"Ah!" Blackbird wrapped her arms around the bump, curling around it protectively. "The baby! She's hurting the baby!"
The rumbling died in an instant. The look on Alex's face was as if she had been slapped.
"I didn't mean…" she faltered.
Silence filled the gap as I looked from one to the other. Alex looked shocked at what she'd done, but Blackbird looked accusingly at her.
"I wouldn't hurt you or the baby," Alex said.
Garvin's voice cut across it all. "Amber, take Blackbird up to her room. Fionh, take Niall and Alex up to the west wing and find them a suite as far from Blackbird as possible. Slimgrin, go with them."
Blackbird was led away by Amber, while we were half-carried and half-guided along the hall in the other direction and up the stairs to a suite of rooms. Stewards ran around turning back sheets, running baths, bringing towels. We were the centre of a vortex of activity, everything whirling around us.
Garvin told Fionh to take Alex and get her showered and cleaned up.
"Bathroom, Alex," Fionh told her, gently.
Alex stared at her. "Don't…"
"Alex, please," I interjected. "You're covered in blood and dust. No more tonight. Go and get cleaned up. Fionh will help you. She'll look after you."
Alex looked at me and must have seen how close to exhaustion I re
ally was. She lowered her eyes and went with Fionh.
"She's not crazy," I told Garvin.
"She's not in control, either," he answered. "Her emotions are driving her power, making her unpredictable and dangerous. She can't be allowed near Blackbird. Think about it. The baby is floating in water, near enough. It's too dangerous."
"She didn't mean to hurt anyone."
"She doesn't have to mean it."
"She's exhausted. So am I. She'll be better in the morning."
"I've seen this before, Niall, though not with anyone that strong. She has no brakes, no limits. It's all or nothing. Fionh was having trouble damping it down. That's Fionh we're talking about."
"It'll be better tomorrow," I insisted.
"You'd better tell me what happened."
It took several attempts. I kept missing pieces out; the mess with the girls and the boat, finding out that Greg was fey. It was all jumbled up in my head and even when I thought I'd told it all I wasn't sure it made sense.
"Where is the vial now?" asked Garvin.
I pointed to my jacket. "Inside pocket, double wrapped, plastic container."
Tate searched my jacket and came back with the container. He handed it to Garvin who held it up to the light to view the vial of liquid inside.
"Tate, go to Kimlesh and tell her that on the authority of the Warders I seek an immediate audience with the High Court. Get them assembled as soon as possible. Slimgrin, guard these two with Fionh while they get some rest. No one goes in or out without my say-so. Fellstamp, close the Way. No one in or out."
He turned to the diminutive figure of Mullbrook, who had been directing operations among the stewards.
"Mullbrook, if you could get some food inside these people and get Alex some rest. I need Niall dressed and presentable inside twenty minutes. Can you do it?"