Mad Maudlin

by Mercedes Lackey

But something was pulling him back. Something that wasn't supposed to be here at all.

  Magic.

  Hot silver threads of magic. Not as strong as in Underhill, but far stronger than they ought to be here in the World Above. They cleansed his blood, roused him toward life once more.

  * * *

  The Hound lunged through the Mirror of Air, dancing and capering to gain its master's attention, but Gabriel Horn didn't need that additional warning. The silver ring on his finger burned hot and true.

  The wench had used her Gift.

  Quickly he reached out his hand and touched it to the mirror.

  Nothing happened.

  It was as he had thought. She had gone to ground in one of the blighted places. But that would not save her now.

  "Go to her," he told the Hound. "Seek her out. Hunt her tirelessly, and harry her back to me. . . ."

  The Hound leapt through the mirror again, and vanished.

  With a gesture, Gabriel banished the Mirror of Air.

  Now the game began. True, he could follow the Hunt himself directly, but he had gone into the Accursed Lands once, after the Bard, and knew they were dangerous to his kind.

  Besides, his plan was to break the girl's spirit, render her subservient to his will. What better way than to harry her a hundred leagues with creatures of nightmare following always at her heels, driving her inexorably homeward? In a day or two at most he would be able to See her directly, and able to decide whether to drive her to her own doorstep under her own power, or to let her be found by his agents.

  But there was one thing he knew for certain.

  Soon he would have the lost lamb back in the fold once more, and after what he would do to her then, it would be a very long time before she even thought of straying again. . . .

  * * *

  "—fly away home," Ace finished, and stopped. Tears of self-reproach glistened in her eyes. She pulled her hands free of Kayla's and Magnus'.

  The Place was completely empty.

  "What . . . was that?" Kayla asked raggedly, drawing a deep breath.

  "What I do," Ace said harshly. "Why I left. Only . . . it never worked quite like that before," she said, sounding puzzled. "Guess maybe because I haven't done it for a while."

  Or maybe because you never did it while linked up to a Healer and a Baby Bard, Kayla thought, still shaken. She wondered if any of those kids was ever going to come back.

  "Hey," Magnus said, sounding pleased. "You can do things like that? That's cool."

  Ace rounded on him furiously. "No, it isn't! It's wicked and dishonest! It's like stealing from people—only it's stealing their right to make up their own minds what they want to feel! And they don't even get a chance to defend themselves against it, because there's no way a normal person can defend themself from a freak like me—no, I just sneak up on them with a song, and before they know it, they—" Ace shut her mouth abruptly, refusing to finish her sentence.

  "You're not a freak," Kayla said gently. "You're just different. Some people are born different, that's all. I'm different too. I can Heal people."

  Ace stared at her, eyes glittering dangerously. For some reason, that had been the wrong thing to say.

  "Not like faith healing," Kayla said, feeling her way carefully. "You don't have to believe anything. I mean if you had a bullet in you—or you had a broken leg—and I touched you—I could Heal it. That's my Talent, like singing that way is yours."

  "Boy, your folks must have loved that," Ace said, relaxing her wariness just a little.

  "My mother loved it so much she abandoned me when she found out," Kayla said bluntly. Let Ace think it had happened a little more recently than it had. It wasn't quite a lie.

  Ace winced. "Sorry. I just . . . but does that mean you can Heal Jaycie?"

  "I think so." Kayla didn't say that she thought Jaycie was the one making himself sick. Once she'd Healed him, she'd know for sure, and she could say something then. "And I know a place the three of you can go. A place that's better than this, that won't send you back to your parents, or tell them where you are, either."

  "Huh." Ace was noncommittal, refusing to believe it. "Jaycie first."

  "Hey," Magnus said, sounding pleased, though still a little rattled both by what had just happened and Ace's furious outburst. "He's awake."

  "Jaycie!"

  Ace jumped to her feet and hurried back to him, dropping to her knees again at his side. His eyes were open, but he seemed disoriented, and when he spoke it wasn't in any language the three of them knew.

  "Sounds like Gaelic," Magnus said dubiously. "A little."

  "Jaycie, honey, wake up," Ace pleaded. "Kayla's here. She's going to make you better."

  "Nay . . . no." Jaycie's eyes opened wide. He was awake enough to speak English now. He stared at Kayla in horror.

  "She won't hurt you," Ace said. "She wants to help."

  Jaycie struggled up onto his elbows, and now even Magnus could see how terribly weak he was. "But she lied to you, Ace," he said. Though the words obviously cost him great effort, he smiled triumphantly as he spoke. "She and the Bard both. Lied to make you trust them." He took a deep breath, summoning the strength to say more. "I don't need help. All I need is sleep."

  He fell back against the sleeping bag, exhausted.

  Oh, shit, Kayla thought. He knows Eric's a Bard. But how the hell . . . ?

  "Looks the picture of health, don't he?" she said aloud.

  "What Bard?" Ace said. Her voice shook with fear. Kayla could feel how desperately Ace wanted to trust her, and how terrified she was of doing so.

  "I guess he means Eric," Kayla said, fudging desperately. "Look. I haven't told you any lies. And I'm willing to swear on anything you want that whatever happens, it isn't going to end up with either of you being taken back to your parents. Not because of me or anybody I know, anyway."

  "Funny you should mention that," Magnus said.

  "You want to tell me you're living here for your health?" Kayla shot back angrily. "I don't know about you, dude, but I'd guess a few people know what Ace can do. And I'm betting they want her back so she'll keep doing it. So they're looking for her. Now, you guys can't stay here—"

  "I bet you got a place all picked out for us, right?" Magnus sneered.

  Kayla dug in her pocket for the flyers from Somerset House. She pulled them out and threw them at him. They fluttered to the floor. "Read 'em an' weep, moron. It's legit, it's been around for a while, and it's got nothing to do with me. It takes runaways in off the street and protects them. It'll take the three of you. But Jaycie'd better be able to walk to get there."

  Hesitantly, Magnus stooped down and picked up the flyers. Ace, still looking confused, came over and took one of them from him.

  "It's a real place," Ace said slowly. "But there's a waiting list. And I don't believe they wouldn't tell your folks if . . . if they knew who you really were."

  Now that Kayla knew what Ace could do, her paranoia made a lot more sense. A Talent like that—to make her hearers experience any emotion she chose—would be worth millions to whoever controlled her. No wonder she'd run away. But why hadn't Kayla ever heard of her? With an ability like that, Ace's face—if not the name Kayla knew her by—ought to be on billboards all over the country.

  "It's got vacancies now. I checked today," Kayla said. "Just go and talk to them. If you don't like it, you can leave. They won't stop you. Now, let me work on Jaycie, okay?"

  "Don't let her," Magnus urged.

  "Yes!" Ace said. "I believe her. I don't think she's told us the whole truth, but I believe her when she says she hasn't told us any flat lies. And he's sick, Magnus. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he's awful sick—and whoever his folks are, they've got to be worse than yours and mine put together, the way he cries at night. We've got to help him. You've got to help him, Kayla," she said urgently.

  "I'll do what I can," Kayla said. "Now, when I touch him, there's going to be a kind of light. Don't touch me or him while I'm
working, okay? That could mess things up."

  Magnus grinned without humor. "Just be careful. He could start struggling—he does that sometimes if you startle him—and he's a lot stronger than he looks. Knocked me all the way across the floor once."

  Oh, this just keeps getting better and better, Kayla thought. She nodded, and went back to where Jaycie was sleeping. Though they'd been talking—and arguing—in normal voices, the boy was sleeping soundly again.

  Kayla crouched on her heels, preparing to spring out of the way at the first sign of movement from Jaycie. She unzipped the sleeping bag and peeled it back, revealing Jaycie in a parka and gloves. That was no good. She needed to touch exposed skin for the best results, and all she could see was a bit of his cheekbone at the moment. She sighed and pulled off his watch cap.

  Long silky black hair tumbled free.

  Huh. I wonder how he keeps it so clean?

  He didn't move, and she relaxed a little.

  Very cautiously now, she brushed it away from his face, but he still didn't stir. His eyes were closed, long black lashes stark against his milky skin. I'd have to use two tubes of Max Factor to get the same effect. It isn't fair.

  Showtime.

  She glanced up. Ace and Magnus were standing several feet away. Apparently they hadn't been kidding about how violently Jaycie reacted to being awakened, though she doubted he could be as strong as Magnus said, not now. Well, at least her health insurance was paid up.

  Kayla pulled off one of her gloves, flexed her fingers—it was cold in here—and reached for his cheek.

  A spark of blue fire leapt from her fingers to his skin. She touched him, and the glow raced over his body.

  He isn't human.

  He was—

  He was Sidhe.

  But elves don't sleep—

  Suddenly Kayla thought of every time she'd seen Jaycie with a can of Coke in his hand, of all the pound bars of Baker's chocolate she'd seen him wolf down.

  It's the caffeine.

  She'd known Jaycie was an addict just from watching him, and hadn't been able to figure out what he was using. Now she knew. Coca-Cola. Chocolate. Caffeine was deadly to the Sidhe. And he'd come here to poison himself with it.

  Focus!

  He was Sidhe, so caffeine was a poison—a drug—like any other. She concentrated on sweeping it out of his system, repairing the damage. She knew the way that the Sidhe "were" now, familiarly, intimately. Once you knew that, every system was alike to a Healer: it wanted to be well and whole.

  But Jaycie didn't.

  The stronger she made his body, the stronger she made him. He began to fight her.

  Where's the off switch on this thing?

  Normally she could simply send an unruly patient to sleep. But a healthy Sidhe didn't sleep. And he was getting healthier by the minute. He began to struggle, trying to push her away.

  She reached up his spine and cut off the nerve impulses to his muscles—tricky, that, and she couldn't leave the block in place for long. Dimly, she sensed his body going limp again.

  But that left his mind—awake, aware, and fighting.

  Will you chill out? I'm trying to save your life!

  A wordless response: fury, grief, despair . . . and terror, as if life was something to be fled from at all costs. Kayla soothed him as much as possible, but Healing the mind was a delicate thing, and she couldn't afford to split off too much of her attention from Healing his body.

  At last she'd taken care of the worst of the damage—as much as she could in the time she had before she had to remove that spinal block, anyway. She pulled the block, releasing control of his body—

  A blow from Jaycie sent her sprawling, breaking the link.

  "How dare you?" he shouted, standing over her and glaring down at her, fists clenched. His eyes flared green in the dim light of The Place. "How dare you meddle in my life, you foolish mortal wench?"

  Kayla stared up at him, mouth quirked in a half smile. He'd knocked her sprawling, she was dizzy from the abrupt breaking of the link, and her stomach hurt where he'd punched her, but whether because of the Healing or because she'd gotten him well and truly wound up, he'd dropped his glamourie. She could see his pointed ears plainly. And if she could, so could Magnus and Ace.

  "You've got an audience, elf-boy," she said breathlessly.

  "Oh." Jaycie looked truly appalled. He turned around.

  "Magnus— Ace— I did not mean—"

  "What did you do to him?" Ace cried.

  Gee, thanks a bunch. "I didn't do anything to him," Kayla said, taking a deep breath and getting to her feet with a wince. "This is what he actually looks like. Your friend Jaycie is an elf—a Sidhe. And he's a junkie. Elves can't handle caffeine in any form. It poisons them. Coffee—chocolate—Coke—they've all got caffeine in them. And he's hooked on it."

  Jaycie took a step toward them. Ace hesitated.

  "Elf?" she said blankly, stunned. "Like in my books?"

  "There's no such things as elves," Magnus said flatly.

  "Yeah?" Kayla said. "Tell that to him."

  "Magnus? Ace?" Jaycie repeated uncertainly. "I didn't want to lie, but—"

  "Oh, you damned fool!" Ace cried, and threw herself into his arms. "You can be an elf if you want—I don't care—but how could you do something like that to yourself?"

  "It isn't true," Jaycie said quickly, putting his arms around Ace. "She's lying."

  He reached out a hand to Magnus. Hesitantly, Magnus took it, grinning in relief.

  "I'm not lying," Kayla said. "And I'll tell you something else that's true. Elves do just fine a lot of places in our world, but not in New York City. There's too much iron in the air here, or all around them, or something like that. If Jaycie stays here very much longer, even without caffeine, he'll get even sicker. And die, maybe. I dunno for sure; no Sidhe I know of ever stayed around long enough to find out."

  "Die?" Magnus said, looking past Jaycie to Kayla, his grin fading. "But you did that thing. We saw you."

  "I fixed most of the damage that's already been done. Not the damage that hasn't been done yet," Kayla said patiently, walking over to the three of them. "Every time he takes a breath, he's hurting himself again. He needs to go home."

  "Home!" Ace said cynically, stepping back from Jaycie and looking at Kayla. "None of us needs to go home."

  "Jaycie does," Kayla said. "Because if he stays here in this world he's going to die. He doesn't need to go back to his own folks. Just to . . . Underhill."

  "No," Jaycie said quickly. All of a sudden he looked human again, though just as stunningly beautiful as Kory had looked. Apparently the elves didn't know how to cast a glamourie to make themselves look ordinary. "I won't go back. And if this is the only place in the World Above that the Sidhe don't go, then this is the only place I can be."

  "You did lie to us," Magnus said accusingly to Kayla. "Maybe you weren't looking for me or Ace—but you were looking for him, weren't you? How else would you know so much about elves? How else would you know they even existed?"

  She could feel the three of them drawing together, drawing away from her. Jaycie didn't want them to trust her, and he had a lot more influence over them than she did. All Kayla could do was tell the truth, and hope that Ace and Magnus cared enough about Jaycie to try to keep him alive.

  "I've met elves before," Kayla said. "Lots of times. There's more of them around than you'd think. Just not here. Look—" she said desperately. "It doesn't matter what trouble you're in, any of you. Here or in Underhill. Just let me and my friends help."

  "No one can help—" Jaycie began. And stopped.

  It was getting darker.

  Kayla stared around The Place. All the candles and lamps were still lit and burning just as brightly as they had been a moment before, but somehow it didn't seem to matter. The Place was filling with shadows. And it was getting colder. Lots colder.

  "No!" Jaycie cried, sounding suddenly terrified. "Run! Run now!"

  He grabbed the hand
s of the other two and began dragging them toward the stairs. Kayla followed.

  The stairwell was absolutely black. Maybe Jaycie could see in the dark, but the other three couldn't. Ace and Magnus stumbled and cried out as he dragged them all the way to the bottom, slipping and skidding across the trash and garbage.

  "Hey! Wait—" Magnus said as they passed the half-open window.

  "There is no time!" Jaycie shouted out of the darkness. "If the shadows touch you they will take your will, and you will be nothing but mindless prey!"

  They ran down the last flight in the dark. There was a wrenching, ripping sound, and Jaycie tore the chained and locked street door open. Light from the street shone in across the filthy lobby.

  The four of them ran.

  Eric drifted in an aimless, healing sleep. Something exceptionally bad had just happened—or almost happened. He was aware of that, dimly. And also that he'd been in pain, terrible pain, and had fled from it with all the power at his command.

  But now that was over.

  It was okay to wake up.

  So he did.

  Eric opened his eyes. He felt good. In fact, he felt much, much better than good.

  He was lying in a bed in a room he'd never seen before. It was . . . he was somewhere Underhill.

  What was he doing Underhill?

  He tried to think back. His memories were jumbled and discordant. He remembered going to see his parents—Magnus—The Place—

  And after that . . .

  He'd been back at the SoCal Faire. But he couldn't have been! The Fairesite had been bulldozed years ago.

  He remembered seeing Karen.

  But . . . hadn't he heard that Karen had died in a bombing overseas? And Beth had said that Ian had died in a car crash a few years back.

  Had everyone he'd seen there been dead?

  But he'd been there. Only . . . not as he was now. He'd been Eric Banyon at 20: feckless, irresponsible, with no particular thought for the future, living from party to party.

  And there'd been a lot of parties.

  He grimaced, sitting up. He supposed it had been . . . nice, in a way. But the clearer those memories became, the less he liked them, and the less he liked that Eric, the one who ran like hell from anything that looked even remotely like a commitment. He knew where he'd been, now.