“Yeah … this didn’t have anything to do with portals or the nexus or any time shifting. There was a river of molten silver involved.”
“Silver? Geez, good thing I sat this one out.”
Werewolves were allergic to silver. I wondered if that much silver would have made Kandy sick just by walking through the mountains.
“My boot is ruined,” I said.
“Always good to keep some perspective.”
“I liked these boots. They were … sturdy. Sturdy is good sometimes.”
“You like all your shoes. When Warner shows up, you can make him buy you a new pair for the heartache.”
The airplane turned sharply, then slowed. I glanced out. We appeared to be waiting in line to take off, with two commercial airplanes in front of us.
“It’s not like that,” I muttered as I cranked my neck, then stood half hunched to peer out of the other side of the plane. I was still stupidly hoping to see broad shoulders or pale blond hair racing across the runway toward the jet. I saw neither. “Warner didn’t …”
I sat back down in my seat with a thump.
“Warner didn’t what?” Kandy’s question went in through my right ear but then just rattled about in my madly working brain.
“Your services are no longer required,” I blurted.
“Losing me, dowser.”
“The rabid koala. The crazy dragon kid.”
“From the fortress? With the fucking shadow leeches?”
“Yeah.”
Kandy muttered a string of colorful and inventive curses, but I didn’t hear a single one. I felt like I was on the edge of working out what had happened in the cavern.
“She said ‘your services are no longer required.’ He was falling, yes, but then … I thought she hit him with some sort of magic to push him over the edge … but … but …”
The jet rolled forward as I squeezed my eyes shut to try to recall the scene on the platform. Warner and Shailaja wrestling for the knife, her punching him in the chest … the golden dragon magic that had hurt my sensitive eyes …
“But what?” Kandy prompted.
“But what if she … retired him?”
“Sounds like a bitchy thing to do.”
“She said ‘dragons don’t kill dragons’ while I was … you know, attempting to kill her.”
“Jade, geez. How do you know this conversation isn’t being recorded? And, you know, a bit unlike you, huh?”
“She’d just pushed Warner into a river of molten silver. And I thought Kett was dead.”
“Okay, fine. But I think you should consider hanging out with the vampire a little less.”
“She didn’t kill him. She put him in stasis. I’ve got to go.” I started to get up, but the jet suddenly rushed forward and threw me back in my seat.
I didn’t know anything about planes, and honestly, I’d barely given this one a second glance. But damn, it was fast. The force of the takeoff pressed me back in my seat, and the plane lifted off after barely a few seconds hurtling down the tarmac.
“Trust the vampire to have some sort of top-of-the-line jet,” I muttered into the phone.
Kandy snorted. “Why would you expect anything less from Mr. High, Mighty, and Toothy?”
As I watched the ground drop beneath us, I clung to my idea about Warner fiercely. I slipped my hand into my satchel to wrap my fingers around the map.
“You think you can call him back?” Kandy asked.
“I hope so.”
“Better to do it in Vancouver, behind the bakery. Remember how he collapsed before. Plus, the magic worked there once. It might be imprinted on the area.”
“When did you become wise and sage-like?”
Kandy laughed.
“Talk to me all the way home?”
“Am I still coming to you? I’ll need to get on a plane eventually.”
“How about … I’ll call … if … you know.”
“Okay, then. Why the hell not? It’s not like I’m doing anything important. And Audrey’s driving me nuts with duties I should be performing and shit. She wants me to check up on the oracle, Rochelle. And her boyfriend, Beau.”
“Yeah, I remember Beau. He’s difficult to unremember.”
“Lara calls him delectable.”
“But you keep saying no to Audrey. Even though you’re bored.”
“It’s the principle.” Kandy paused. I could actually hear her thinking. I found myself growing anxious as the silence stretched, until all I could feel was empty air between us. The werewolf never spent this much time considering her choice of words.
I could hear some sort of static on the line. “You still there?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Kandy answered. “I might go next time.”
“Because the far seer paid you a visit?”
“He told you?”
“I saw Drake’s T-shirt.”
Kandy laughed huskily. “That’s a good one. You see the banana —”
“Don’t explain it to me!”
Kandy laughed harder. I could see her in my mind’s eye — head thrown back, her green hair slightly longer and brushing the back of her neck. She gave herself over without question, without hesitation. She was fierce about life. I desperately missed that. I wanted to be that fierce, that vibrant.
The werewolf grew quiet at the other end of the line.
“Chi Wen?” I prompted. “Do you want to talk about it? I bet Desmond was pissed as hell when he showed up.”
“He didn’t come to the house. Drake found me at the gym, took me to a park. There were swings.”
I waited, my heart aching for whatever Kandy was worried about. Whatever the far seer had said to shake her up.
“He asked why I wasn’t wearing the cuffs. I told him the reason to wear them had already passed.”
I groaned. Without the cuffs, which had originally been a gift from the far seer, Kandy wouldn’t have been able to lift the slab of granite that had pinned me when the fortress had collapsed.
“You know, because he doesn’t do great with time.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“He asked how I was healing.”
“Really? He knew you’d been hurt?”
“Guess so …” Kandy trailed off.
“Then he asked you to visit Beau and Rochelle?”
“He said the oracle was going to need me, but I wasn’t going to like it. Then he laughed, and asked me to buy him Oreos because he never remembered to carry money.”
I could see the scene. Chi Wen, an ancient Chinese man in his white robes, sitting on the swings next to a green-haired, slight, tough-as-nails woman who was probably wearing Lycra. Drake would have been wandering around in the background, testing all the playground equipment.
“So you’re wearing the cuffs now?”
“Yeah. They don’t really go, you know?”
I understood. The thick gold cuffs and their runes would be a poor match for any outfit … except maybe if pharaoh-chic became a thing.
“He didn’t give me a timeline,” Kandy continued. “So … I’ll just go the next time Audrey asks.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.”
“No? Did the far seer say no?”
“I’m saying no.”
“I … I don’t think you’ve ever said no to me before.”
“Get used to it, blondie,” Kandy mock-growled. “You complicate things.”
Did I ever.
The steward swapped out my tray for one that contained three Valrhona limited-edition chocolate bars, more hot towels, and — upon inspection — steamed milk in a silver teapot. I smiled at him and he wandered back up to the front of the jet.
“It’s like they know me here,” I whispered into the phone. “It’s on the edge of creepy … except there’s dark chocolate. Chocolate can’t ever be creepy.”
“Again, did you expect anything less from the vampire? He’s such a show-off.”
I laughed. Kett was kind of the c
omplete opposite of a show-off, but Kandy loved to state the unobvious.
“So …” Kandy said. “Did you get the sentinel into bed yet?”
“God, no. He’s taking it insanely slow.”
“At least you have leverage now.”
“Yeah, I totally want to guilt him into sleeping with me.”
Kandy snorted. “Tell me about the new cupcakes you’re testing for spring.”
So I did.
∞
I talked to Kandy all the way to Vancouver. The jet didn’t even stop to refuel, which seemed crazy. But then, what did I know about these things? We both loaded up Guardians of the Galaxy on Netflix, which apparently came along with all the other luxuries on the jet, watching it together while I consumed the holy trinity of chocolate bars — aka Loma Sotavento from the Dominican Republic, Gran Couva from Trinidad, and El Pedregal from Venezuela.
I tasted the Loma first. I picked up hints of yellow plum and a touch of toasted almond, along with Valrhona’s signature smooth chocolate. Overall, though, I found the bar on the too-sweet side — even though it was 64 percent cocoa — so I broke it up and stirred it into the steamed milk, savoring little sips long after it had cooled.
Gran Couva was sublime, with subtle hints of mint and fresh spices in the finish. A completely brilliant pairing — a smooth, creamy sweetness that recalled Kett’s magic — though it was much lighter and more chocolaty.
I managed to stretch the final bar from Venezuela until the jet was circling the twinkling lights in the partially cloudy early morning over Vancouver. El Pedregal delivered a rich, deep cocoa scent that filled my nasal cavities and blocked out all my worries and concerns for the time that I inhaled it. The chocolate itself was well balanced, with a delightful hint of honey in the delicate, lingering aftertaste.
Very, very tasty chocolate.
Kett knew me well. He’d also known there was a strong possibility I’d be heading home alone, which made me almost unbearably sad.
∞
The plane landed just after 3 a.m., and I climbed into the limo waiting for me outside the private hangar without blinking. I didn’t set foot inside Vancouver International Airport. I didn’t check in at customs or security, or collect two hundred dollars when I passed ‘Go’ …
Okay, I might have been unraveling a bit. The closer I got to the bakery, the closer I got to confirming if Warner was actually dead. I wasn’t sure I wanted the confirmation. Denial might be a nice place to live for a while. I’d vacationed there heavily the year before through all the shit with Sienna — and screwing around with Desmond — and enjoyed the ignorance. Though coming back to reality had been a painful bitch.
Yeah, so, unraveling.
I had the limo drop me in the alley behind the bakery, then waited for it to pull away.
Then I waited some more.
And a bit longer.
Maybe I was the one locked in stasis …
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The early morning air was cool and misty, which didn’t happen often in Vancouver, where it usually poured rain rather than sprinkled it. A few lights, perhaps from TV or computer screens, were bleeding through the closed curtains of the apartments that faced onto the alley, but a quick glance up confirmed that my own apartment was dark.
I pulled the map out of my satchel and spread it in the middle of the alley, in the general area where Warner had appeared the first time he’d been called here. Not that it needed to be open for this to work. But I was pretty sure it needed to be away from any sort of magical warding, including me.
If this was going to work.
I was hanging a lot on that ‘if.’
I’d gotten home on that ‘if.’
I stepped away — one step, two steps, three big steps back — and pulled my knife. I wasn’t sure the shadow leeches would make an appearance. They certainly wouldn’t be in the nexus with Shailaja. If Shailaja was in the nexus … but maybe she’d been whisked away to wherever Pulou kept the dragon prison. Maybe I’d jumped to conclusions, seeing my newly found father babying a crazed teen who I’d thought had killed Warner moments before.
Anyway … shadow leeches.
I just had to hope they’d be drawn to the map, whether I needed them in order to trigger the transportation spell that pulled the sentinel out of stasis or not. Warner was of the opinion that he’d been called to the alley — and me — by the presence of the map three months before, but a shadow leech had appeared right before he’d shown up.
God. Was that only three months ago?
Nothing was freaking happening. My neighbors were still slumbering, and even the cars a block away on West Fourth were few and far between. The predawn air around me felt devoid of life, empty of light and love and laughter. What if I’d miscalculated? What if Warner was locked inside the mountain with the centipede? What if I’d been meant to draw that thing out of the molten silver, slice its belly open, and free my boyfriend from its intestinal tract?
I took three more steps away from the map. Pulou had said I naturally shielded the magic of the map and the instruments …
The instruments of assassination.
I pulled off my necklace, stepping even farther back from the map as I did so. I didn’t want to defend two objects, but if I had to choose, I’d sacrifice the map over the necklace with the centipedes. Especially if that was what it took to get Warner back. Especially because Shailaja hadn’t needed the map to seriously screw with Warner anyway.
I laid the necklace on the dirty asphalt at my feet. My heart ached over treating it so badly, and I whispered a promise to it — so really, to myself — about adding the vampire wedding rings to the chain in the morning. The silver of the centipedes caught in what little moonlight was filtering through the mist-filled clouds.
I stepped away, my knife held at the ready. The mist collected in a layer of moisture on my face and hair, mimicking the tears I should have released but couldn’t.
I held my breath so long that I felt myself growing faint, but I refused to exhale. I wondered if I could asphyxiate myself through sheer willpower. I wondered when my body would take over to demand oxygen, to force me to move forward.
I was always moving forward, wasn’t I?
Always forgiving, always resilient.
Maybe it was time to stop. Maybe it was too much.
I’d had these thoughts before and dismissed them … Warner. Warner had been in my kitchen … he had made me pancakes.
And I’d wanted that.
I had so, so wanted that life.
My lungs were going to explode. I was going to collapse in this alley. The garbage truck would probably run over me in the morning … no, Bryn would find me first when she came in for her baking shift.
I let my breath out with a gasp, then inhaled again, painfully filling my lungs and rebooting my brain.
A shadow streaked out from behind the bakery’s green dumpster. It was heading for the necklace, not the map.
I lunged, thrusting my knife into that seething mass of evil incarnate, and taking wicked pleasure in slashing it apart.
I could feel other leeches gathering in the shadows around me. They hid in the crevices of apartment roofs. They hid between the slats of the fences that edged the alley, and underneath the car illegally parked two buildings away.
They watched me.
The first shadow leech tried to get away from me and my blade, but I held onto its magic. I sliced it to ribbons until it collapsed like the tangle of yarn in the bottom of Gran’s knitting basket.
I let them all watch as I destroyed.
Warner was doubtful that we could kill the leeches. They’d sought eternal life. They had sacrificed their mortal forms and their magic to be reborn in this leech form, to serve Shailaja in her quest.
But I could rip and shred their magic. I could destroy the very thing that held them together.
And I would.
I would take on each and every one of them. If they fled, I would hunt
them down.
Then I would walk into the nexus and wrap my bare hands around Shailaja’s throat. The guardians would hesitate, just long enough for me to rip the magic out of her.
I’d done it before. I could do it again.
I was the avenger now.
I lifted my foot and its silver-bottomed hiking boot. I stomped the shredded shadow leech at my feet to crush the evil sorcery out of it. To destroy the black magic —
I remembered Sienna’s eyes. And how dark they’d turned the deeper she’d delved into sacrificial magic.
I wondered if my own eyes would flood with black magic after I destroyed the shadow leech at my feet … after creating the sacrificial knife, the bakery wards, and draining Sienna’s magic into my katana with blood magic … I wondered if this was what it felt like to be in the thrall of darkness.
I released my hold on the leech’s magic.
It disappeared.
I stood, winded by my own viciousness.
I was alone.
Then light exploded in the alley, blinding my still-sensitive eyes so much that I had to shield my face with my arm. Magic hit me. I stumbled back, then leaned into it.
Golden transportation magic. Dragon magic.
The light winked out.
I stumbled again, forward this time, as I dropped my arm to look … to see … to taste.
Warner, once again wearing his training leathers, stood frowning at the map at his feet. The striped cashmere scarf I’d given him on the shores of Lago Puarun hung from his otherwise limp hand.
I stepped toward him and drew his attention.
His frown deepened. He looked me full in the face, but he didn’t know me. My heart started beating madly in my chest, so hard and fast it instantly winded me.
He didn’t remember me.
He slid one foot back and rested his hand on his knife … the weapon I’d tailored for him by molding and honing the magic and blade of the sacrificial knife.
He was going to draw the blade and attack. I could see the instinct in his stance, in the way his shoulders shifted sideways. I would draw my own knife, then. I would defend myself.
Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser Series Book 5) Page 22