by Alicia Wolfe
He laid the gold down on the table. Demons from other tables were starting to look over. I noticed some truly nightmarish fellows begin to take an interest in us from the far side of the room. Shit, I thought. We need to finish this fast.
When the three fine fellows we’d been talking with were satisfied, Shortstuff said, “That’s a very powerful spell, imp. Stronger than most could lay. Very few could lay such a spell.”
Federico chewed on his cigar. “Well? What’s it do?”
“It creates a magical space within the mirror—a sort of holding area.”
“A prison?” I said.
“Naw. Just a place to store stuff. Or people. It would make a pretty big area.”
Davril’s jaw bulged. “How many could fit in it?”
A sly gleam lit Shortstuff’s yellow eyes. It was clear that though he would take our money happily, he was rooting for whoever had laid that spell. In other words, whoever our enemies were.
“A lot,” he said, and it seemed as if that was all he would say on the matter.
Davril tensed. I felt it, too. Fear crept down my back and sobered my mind, flushing the alcohol from my system. Angela had stolen a mirror that might well contain an army. And I had no doubt that whoever composed that army, they were enemies to both humans and the Fae.
“How’d someone go about recovering the people stuck in the mirror?” Federico said.
“Ley lines,” said the demon. “Magic like that can only be done at a major crossing of ley lines.”
“Great,” I said. “Where the hell’s a crossing of—”
Someone grabbed my arm and wrenched me around. I gasped as I stared up into the six eyes of a huge nar-demon. His riot of horns caught the lights of chandeliers that, I saw, seemed composed of human bone. Behind Many-Horn were various other huge, awful-looking denizens of the Pit. One had drool running down from his open maw and staining his scarred, bare chest. Another had four arms, one of which ended in a hook inset with ancient runes. These were some seriously bad hombres.
“Don’t touch her,” Davril said, and stepped forward, one hand darting to the hilt of his invisible sword.
I placed a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” The last thing we needed was to get into a bar fight here.
Many-Horn laughed. His mood soured, though, as his six eyes fell on Federico. “So,” he said slowly, “you’re the traitor what works with the Fae.”
“I’m more of an … independent contractor,” Federico said, looking queasy.
Many-Horn grinned nastily. “I don’t like the Fae.”
Federico turned back around to face the three demons we’d just been dealing with. “Hey, guys, tell these jerkwads I’m alright. Tell them about Times—”
The three demons were gone.
Federico swallowed and turned back to Many-Horn and his charming pals.
“You were saying?” said Many-Horn.
Chapter 20
I saw where this was going and wanted no part of it.
“I think we need to boogie,” I whispered to Davril.
His brow wrinkled. “Boogie?”
Sigh.
Before I could rephrase the suggestion as something he might understand, Many-Horn threw a huge fist right at Federico’s face. The imp swore and ducked, then flung his cigar in Many-Horn’s most central eye. Many grunted and staggered back, right into Hook Hand. The fourth member of their merry band, who was covered in coarse black hair, sprang at Federico, a growl ripping up from his throat.
I tripped the furry guy so that he went sprawling—face-first into Davril’s foot. I laughed as the demon sank to the floor, unconscious.
The other three leapt forward. Federico flew upward, darting between Many’s outstretched arms, then punched him on the side of the head.
The demon I was calling Hoofer kicked a hoof at my face. I dodged to the side, then chopped him in the side of the neck. Hoofer gagged and fell back, out of the fight for a moment. The second one swung a spiked club—a mace, my training told me—at Davril’s head. Davril ducked under the swing, then swung his fist right at the asshole’s jaw. The demon grunted and staggered back, one hand wiping away the blood from his teeth.
“You’ll pay for that,” he said.
The furry one was starting to come around.
Federico laughed and flew circles around Many-Horn, occasionally kicking him in the buttocks as he passed by.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” I said.
Already other demons were gathering around, eager to join the fight, and as much fun as a good old-fashioned barroom brawl sounded, these were odds we couldn’t win against.
“I hate to agree with retreat,” Davril said, “but where pride rules, blood spills.”
“That must be a Fae expression, because I don’t know it,” I said, then added, “Sounds true, though.”
“Aw, but this was just gettin’ interesting,” Federico said, giving Many-Horn’s ass one last good kick. With that, the imp flew over to join us.
The other three demons in the band had been gathering themselves for a group attack, but we beat them to it. With Davril leading the way, we hit them right in the middle. Davril blasted one demon with a beam of light, and I kicked another in the balls when he stared in surprise. Federico hawked up a ball of nasty-looking phlegm and shot it straight at the third’s eyes.
They scattered and we rushed toward the doors. A demon lunged at me from the right. I punched him in the belly and he sagged back. Another reared up, meaning to ambush Davril. The Fae Knight grinned and knocked the creep in the side of the head with his fist. The demon collapsed. I was impressed. Davril hadn’t even drawn his sword, which showed how confident he was in his own prowess. It also proved he kept a level head even in crisis; he knew enough not to escalate the situation, and he had the will to keep his sword in its sheath.
We spat, kicked, punched and wove to the door, then we burst out of it. I spun as we emerged from the bar, threw some dust at the door, and said, “S’traca hu!”
Ice spread across the door, forming a barrier and freezing the wood fast. Almost immediately, demons on the other side struck the barrier. The ice bucked but didn’t crack. We didn’t have forever, though.
“Come on,” Davril said.
He led the way to Lady Kay. Demons on the way to the bar turned to watch us pass, looking perplexed, but they didn’t try to stop us. We dove into the car, Davril thrust his key into the slot and turned the motor on, mashed the gas, and we were away. I wiped sweat out of my eyes and gasped, then turned to watch the lights of the bar and the district recede below.
Behind me in the backseat, Federico looked winded and tense, but he was grinning and already lighting another cigar. When he turned to watch the bar diminish, though, I saw sadness touch his expression, and I understood. Poor guy. He truly was an outcast, wasn’t he? He didn’t fit in among the Fae, and he certainly didn’t fit in among his own kind. The encounter must have really stung him. My heart tore for him, even more so because I knew he would never say a thing about it. I could see that from the tightness of his jaw and the faraway look in his eyes.
Grumbling under his breath, he said, “Can’t this thing go any faster?”
I wanted to squeeze his hand, but knew that would only embarrass him, at least in this instance. Normally, he would have loved it a little too much.
Davril glanced at the imp in the rearview mirror. “Did you get what you needed?”
“Mm?” said Federico, still distracted.
“The mirror? Did you learn what you needed to find it and stop Angela from using it?”
“Not really,” said Federico. “I know what Angela wants it for now, but I’m going to need someone versed in human magic to know where the nearest set of ley lines meet.”
To me, he said, “How about it, toots?”
“Don’t call me toots,” I said. “And I’m hardly an expert in ley lines. I just know a few spells, that’s all, enough to hide me and help me in scrape
s if the hiding part fails. But I know someone who might be able to help.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Davril said.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I am not involving an innocent in this matter.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “She was a lot of help last time, remember? Hell, she helped save the Queen.”
“Pure luck,” Davril said. “And desperation.”
“We’re not desperate now? We have no way of knowing where Angela plans to bring the mirror.”
“We can pray it’s not Central Park,” Davril said.
“Shadowpark.”
“Exactly.”
“Screw that place,” Federico agreed. “But Jade’s right. We need an expert in the magic of this world. The Fae can’t help.”
“Or perhaps she just wants to see her sister,” Davril said, and there was a dangerous edge to his voice. I didn’t have to wonder why. Even though the action had renewed whatever bond was between us, he still hadn’t forgotten—or forgiven—the original issue: I’d started thieving again. And Ruby, according to his way of thinking, was the corrupting influence. “I’m not sure I want you around her,” he told me, as if to confirm this.
“Well, too bad,” I said. “Speed and secrecy are of the essence.”
Davril let out a harsh breath. “Very well, then. To Ruby’s place it is. I only hope that, when all is said and done, that you are still a knight in the morning.”
A night in the morning, I heard, then corrected myself. When the true import of what he’d said hit me, I shivered.
More soberly, I said, “Me, too.”
Turning back around, I could see Federico watching us with a mild grin, cigar clamped between his teeth. The wind whipped its smoke behind him. He had his hands behind his head and his legs crossed. All and all, he looked quite content.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is your sister single?”
Ruby was watching Outlander when we arrived, and she had popcorn crumbs on her T-shirt, which read in purple sparkles on a black background, Witches not bitches. I had no idea what that meant. She stared from Davril to Federico to me as I closed the window to the fire escape and said the wards to seal it.
“Um, popcorn?” she asked, offering us a bite from her bag.
Federico floated closer. “Don’t mind if I do.”
They munched as Davril and I filled her in on what was going on, and what the stakes might be. Federico chimed in when it came to describing the spell on the mirror. When he spoke, Ruby’s face turned pale and tense. She glanced several times at the clock. Twice she consulted the calendar.
“Well?” I said when Federico was through. “What’s the deal?”
“At that particular spell class, and at a crossing of ley lines, the working will have to be done at midnight on the last full moon of winter.” She swallowed visibly. “That’s tonight, people.” She glanced again at the clock. “In about one hour.”
“Well, shit,” I said.
“That doesn’t leave much time to coordinate with the Palace,” Davril said.
“Sure doesn’t,” Federico said. He’d been sitting on the table, but now he jumped up and flapped his wings. “Guess we better hit the road.”
To Ruby, I said, “You know where the ley lines cross?”
She gathered her resolve, then nodded. “Just follow me.”
Without a wasted moment, she threw on a coat, then climbed onto the fire escape and readied her broomstick. I climbed on behind her. In surprise, she said, “Don’t you want to ride with Davril?”
“Federico can keep him company.” The truth was I just didn’t like using her like this, and I wanted to show her I cared.
I think she got it, because she flashed a little smile and said, “Hang on.”
She shot the broom forward, and I cried out.
“You still haven’t learned to drive,” I said, holding onto the saddle.
She laughed and made a turn. I swiveled my head to see Davril driving Lady Kay right behind us, Federico in the passenger seat beside him lighting a fresh cigar. He was enjoying this way too much.
Ruby flew for twenty minutes, then began to slow down.
“I’m trying to sense the ley lines,” she said over her shoulder.
“You don’t know where they are?”
“I know generally where, but I’ve never actually needed to go there. That’s not the sort of magic I—there!”
She stopped and pointed. Something grew cold inside me at the sight of a huge, hulking domed building. It took me a moment to realize it must be some sort of abandoned sports stadium. It stood like some dinosaur, looming out of massive empty parking lot with unlit light posts jutting up like ribs. The wind took that moment to blow down my back, and I shivered.
Lady Kay pulled up beside us. Rolling down his window, Davril said, “That’s it?”
Ruby nodded. “Mistress Angela and her people will be inside preparing the working.”
I studied the giant, swollen tumor of a building, which practically throbbed with unnatural energies. It’s just magic, I told myself. Sure, there was dark magic, but there was good magic, too. And really, wasn’t its hue all in the hands of the user? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Angela’s “working” was so dark it tainted the natural flow of magic in the area. Demon magic, I thought. Some demonic spell for hiding an army in a mirror. Great.
“How do you want to play this?” Ruby said.
Davril frowned. Beside him, Federico was scowling at the abandoned stadium. Then he scratched himself and spat out the window.
“I’ve alerted the Palace,” Davril said. “They’re mustering their forces even now.”
“Can they get here before midnight?” Ruby said, and Davril nodded.
“I doubt a frontal assault will finish Angela,” I said. “She’ll have her whole goon army with her, you can bet on it.”
“The might of the Fae can defeat them,” Davril said confidently.
“Yeah, but her goons only need to hold them off long enough for her to complete the spell on the mirror.”
“Too true, toots,” said Federico.
“Don’t call me toots!”
“Sure, angelcake.”
I rolled my eyes. “So what are we going to do?”
“We can’t let her complete the Working on that mirror,” Ruby said.
Davril ran a hand through his blond hair. “Jade, you can guide us in an infiltration. We can sneak past Angela’s security and into the stadium. Slip through her defenses and come on her unawares.”
“Then what?” Federico said.
Davril frowned, obviously still coming up with the plan.
I clapped my hands. “I’ve got it! We’ll use the Fae army as the distraction. When they attack, they’ll draw Angela’s defenders away. Then we slip in close and put an end to her.”
“And destroy the mirror before she can summon her real army,” Ruby added.
“Very well,” Davril said. “I concur.”
Pride swelled in my chest, and I tried not to look smug. But it wasn’t every day a lowly cat burglar devises battle plans. It felt pretty good, I have to admit. “Okay, then,” I said. “Let’s start sneaking. The place is huge. Angela can’t be covering every tiny little entrance.”
“I can disarm the magical traps,” Ruby said.
“You’ll need my help with the demon magic once we get to the mirror,” Federico said.
Speaking quickly, I cast a spell on Lady Kay, cloaking her, then let Ruby have the honor of cloaking her broom. (I knew she wouldn’t want me messing with it.) That done, we drew closer to the dark, hulking stadium, slowly drifting toward it.
“Crap,” I said, and pointed down toward a line of what looked for all intents and purposes like soldiers. They didn’t wear uniforms, as such, but they were armed and organized.
“Angela’s goons,” Ruby said. “How many of them are there?”
I tried to count, but we were going too fast. At any rate, there
were more than fifty of the rough biker-types who served Angela. All carried assault rifles or shotguns, and they were probably just one of several different sentry patrols. And this was outside the stadium. What would we find inside?
“At least they can’t see past our spells,” I said.
“Yeah, but what about further in, when we’re actually dealing with magic users?”
I tapped my chin. “There’s something else to consider, too.”
“What?”
“The trolls Angela makes, or whatever you want to call it. She does it by turning her goons into the monsters. I guess they volunteer for it. Maybe she doesn’t give them a choice. Whichever. It’s the biker-types she does it to. If she’s brought an army of them to the stadium…”
Ruby nodded. “There could be a bunch of trolls.”
“Better be on guard, Rubes.”
She reached back to squeeze my hand. “You, too, J.”
We were close to the structure now. Ruby scanned it for weak points in the defensive wards. Finding one, she brought her broom in to the window there, just like at the creepy doll factory. Lady Kay followed.
Ruby brought the broom alongside the window and stopped, then said a spell and waved her hands before the window. Magic shimmered colorfully, then folded away. I produced my tools and opened the window in seconds, then took the lead in climbing inside. I crouched in the darkness and probed the shadows with my shifter sight, then gestured the others to follow me. Silently, they did.
“Guess your cat burglar instincts serve you well for shit like this,” Federico said, still smoking his cigar.
“Guess so,” I muttered. “Can you put that thing out? Its smell will give us away.”
Federico grumbled but complied, and I turned to see Davril frowning. Mention of my criminal activities seemed to annoy him, or maybe even disturb him. I remembered it had only been hours ago that my shenanigans had given him such a moral crisis he’d almost left the Order over it. Our fighting together had helped heal some of the damage—he knew I had his back now—but my burglaring ways still didn’t sit right with him. If we lived through this, there was still the very real possibility that he would inform his Queen of the truth.