by Andy Hyland
“You’re not going to budge on this, are you?” I asked. His smile didn’t waver. “Fine, let’s get this over with. How do we get out of this one?” I motioned to the guards.
“Nobody knows I’m here. I’m just going to kick you out of the Library and then be gone myself before time catches up with them again.”
I looked at Zack. “Both of us?”
“Absolutely. You’re not nearly as effective without your friends. Which is a strength, by the way, not a weakness.”
“And you can get Mercy out of here as well.”
“No. I’m afraid not. Freeing her would raise…questions in a way that your disappearing act will not. But her execution has just been pushed a long way down the list of things to get done. She’ll still be safe and intact by the time you get all this figured out. Probably.”
I thought about arguing but it would have been a waste of time, and even I could see the sense in what he was saying. “If not Mercy, then someone else. I need to pay a debt.”
His eyes grew wide as I explained. When I’d finished a short laugh exploded from his lips as he turned and started to walk away. “That’s one of the things I like about you, Malachi. You never fail to surprise me. Why not, though? Why not indeed? Now, get out.”
The sensation was less nauseous than the slide to the Library, but altogether more violent and abrupt. My internal organs felt like they were being ripped out of my chest and stomach as my entire being experienced what it meant to tear through the fabric of reality backwards, and at great speed. Somewhere along the line I lost consciousness, and the only thing left was the pain.
“Malachi? You awake?”
I thought I was, but a really big part of me just wanted to curl up and crawl back into the darkness. My eyes were shut, but I didn’t need them open to feel the rain beating down on my face, and the hard rough surface of the street digging into one of my cheeks. The snow had turned to slush in our absence, making things even more unpleasant. I could feel the chill in my bones.
Something hit my arm. “Malachi, we need to move.”
I moaned, in a complicated manner designed to suggest that the idea was stupid and pointless and would only lead to even more pain. I got another jolt in the arm for my trouble. Forcing open my eyes, I saw Zack’s face a few inches from mine, looking as rough as I felt. “You really want to move?” I asked him.
“Hell no. But I figure things’ll only get worse if we don’t.”
I hated to admit it, but the man had a point. Closing my eyes again to minimize the pain in my head, I dragged myself onto my elbows and knees, and then, after a long and necessary pause, and with the help of a wall, up to my feet. “How do you feel?” Zack asked, a couple of seconds before I bent double and vomited onto the ground. I stayed there for a minute before finally deciding to ditch the pity-party and get the show back on the road.
Zack was also upright, leaning on the wall across from me. We were in a wide alley. Darkness, not daylight, was our ally for the moment, and we needed to get under cover before that changed. The weather was crap, and that also worked to our advantage - anyone still on the streets would be taking even less notice of other people than usual, focusing on getting themselves somewhere indoors and dry.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Not sure,” Zack admitted. “We’ll just have to start walking and get our bearings. Should be able to do that quickly enough. Once we’re clear on that, what do you reckon?”
“Whatever’s closest. And the less people know about it the better. Maybe one of your stashes. After that, we need to get back with Julie and Arabella. And once we’ve done that…well, one step at a time.”
“You got any idea what’s going on? It’s just you don’t seem too shaken up by us being here. As opposed to…there.”
I looked over at him and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got an idea of what’s going on. Let’s get somewhere safe first. Then I’ll fill you in.”
“Don’t I even get a short version?”
“Sure. The short version is that we’re so far in the shit that we may never, ever be able to climb back out again.”
“Business as usual?”
“No, this is much, much worse. Come on, let’s get going.”
“What about her?” Zack said, pointing further down the alley.
A naked woman lay sprawled on the ground, face down, so at least most of her dignity was preserved. A mass of hair covered her face. “What do we do about her?” Zack asked again. “We can’t leave her here, can we?”
“No, we’re not leaving her,” I told him, walking over to her. “She’s with us. For the time being, anyway.”
Zack followed me, and we took a shoulder each, trying to get her upright while touching as little as possible of her, admittedly attractive, currently unclothed form. Zack was particularly awkward about it, right up until the point where her hair fell away from her face. “Stacey?” he said, jumping back. I flung my arms round her waist which stopped her crashing back to the ground.
“Yes, Stacey,” I told him. “I owed her a favor, remember? So I…arranged for her to get out of there too. Are you going to help me or not, because if I have to hold her by myself any longer then my hands are going to end up somewhere they shouldn’t go. Come on, get a grip. Literally.”
He stared at me and shook his head, but stepped back over and took her weight while I took my coat off and slid her arms into it.
“What’s that?” I asked, nodding with my chin at Zack’s feet where something was glinting in the lamplight. He stooped down, picked it up, and after looking it over carefully, tossed it across to me. A delicate silver chain, with a small horn charm on the end, twisted and pointed. The whole thing was charred, or something similar, with the horn being the worst affected, and the black rot spreading halfway up the chain. “Ideas?” I asked Zack.
“Looks like Julie’s.”
“But not, obviously. What do you make of the discoloring?”
“Don’t ask me to carry Stacey and think at the same time,” he answered. “Can we just move?”
“You’re right. Move out.” I pocketed the amulet, and, with Stacey’s arms over our shoulders, we rather clumsily staggered our way out of the alley and into the New York night.
“She’s heavier than she looks,” Zack said as he nearly lost his balance and careered into a shop window. “Shouldn’t harpies be light? Half-bird or something? Hollow bones?”
“You can ask her when she wakes up. Personally, I’m hoping she doesn’t do that while we’re still dragging her along, because if she panics we could both end up being gutted by razor-sharp claws. It’s been a shit day already, without having my intestines crash over the sidewalk.”
“Great thought, Malachi. Really cheering me up. Figured out where we are yet?”
“Yep. Could be worse. Only four blocks of this and we’ll be at Becky’s.”
“Cab, then? Relax, I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Just walk faster, okay?”
Becky’s was down on North Moore Street, between Hudson and Greenwich. Technically, we should start calling it Arabella’s, since she now lived there, even if it was actually the property of yours truly. Becky left it to me when she shuffled off the mortal coil, along with a stash of amulets and charms, and a not inconsiderable magical upgrade. Long story, but I’m grateful, so let’s leave it there.
The signage still proclaimed that it was the trading premises of Madam Morgana’s Home of Psychic Wonders, but nobody ever came knocking. I palmed the main door open and we dragged Stacey up the stairs. Anyone else and I’d worry about serious injury from being pulled around like this. Stacey, not so much. And she’d better be bloody grateful.
The main door to the apartment stood at the top of the stairs. I knocked, hopefully, but nobody answered. Wherever Arabella had ended up, she hadn’t made her way here yet.
“Just get it open,” Zack panted, letting Stacey’s still-unconscious form slide to the floor. “What are you waiting for?” I looked at h
im and realization dawned. “Oh. Shit. Any ideas?”
Back when this place was Becky’s home, workshop and shopfront, she’d installed a particularly brutal security system, a semi-sentient magical guardian built into the door. You let it into your mind, and if you passed as human, you got to go in. If it sensed you were anything else, your brains got to take a permanent vacation from your skull and experience living on a wall for a while. I’d seen the after-effects once or twice. Not something you forget. It would have sensed that there were three of us out here, and it wouldn’t grant us entry until all three had been probed. No problem for me and Zack, obviously, but Stacey…yeah, that wouldn’t end well.
“Can’t you talk to it?” Zack suggested. “It’s yours. Kind of. Right?”
I had severe doubts about whether it was even worth trying, but since it was either that or crash here, I shrugged and stepped forward, pressing my forehead against the door. The familiar tingle came first, and then the woven strands of magical energy, caressing my face before drilling in and inspecting my essence. I’d come to the conclusion that Becky must have left it instructions to cover what would happen in the event of her demise, because over time I’d felt the door grow more used to me, friendly even. Certainly less energetic in its questings than it had been in the past. Now I even felt its pleasure as it recognized me. A bit like coming home to a dog, I thought, before belatedly wondering if it was picking up on what was going through my mind.
Okay, here goes nothing. I pressed back against the guardian, sending my own threads of magic back into the door. Explaining the whole situation was a step too far, not only for this type of communication, but also for the level of comprehension the guardian was capable of. Instead, I focussed on a single instruction: open. At first there was confusion, then resistance, almost a petulant arguing. I didn’t let up and kept pressing my point home. Eventually a wave of resignation washed over me, and the door clicked open, letting me fall into the hallway.
“Nice one,” said Zack. “I was getting worried. How do you feel?”
“Not as bad as I did in the alley, but not great. Still, it worked.”
“I had my doubts. You were stuck there against the door for half an hour.”
“That long? Time flies when you’re having fun. Can you bring Stacey? I’ll get the kettle on.”
By the time dawn’s gray fingers came creeping across the skyline we were crashed out. Stacey had the sofa, with a few blankets thrown over her. I had a leather armchair. Zack just picked a spare patch of floor. Despite my high hopes of getting straight on the phone and getting the gang together, my body declared a time-out and refused to move. My mind grudgingly agreed, and my eyes closed.
Waking up with a knife to your neck isn’t one of life’s great experiences, and I recommend you avoid it where possible. It does, however, kick-start your day and grant almost instant alertness. Stacey was standing over me, buck naked, eyes blazing, and approximately five seconds from carving my neck open.
“If you haven’t got a really good reason why I’m here, then you’re hellbound, Malachi, and I don’t care how much we’ve got on with each other in the past. Spill it, now, or I spill you.”
I looked her straight in the eye and kept my tone as even as possible. This was not only a desperate attempt to calm her down, but it also stopped my neck rubbing against the serrated edge of the knife. Also, confronted with an enraged naked woman, not letting your eyes wander seemed like a good way to go.
“Where were you before, Stacey?” I asked.
“Don’t play games, Malachi. You know damn well where I was.”
“And now you’re not there. You’re out. You asked me to get you out, and I did. So how about you ease back a bit, yeah?”
That gave her pause for thought, and the pressure on my neck slowly lifted, but not completely.
“So I’m out, but how come I’m naked - apart from that filthy coat I woke up in?”
“Were you wearing anything in the pit?”
“No,” she said slowly, thinking it over. “No, the last I remember I was…I was in another form. So I suppose you could say I wasn’t wearing anything.”
“Well that’s probably why you wound up naked here then, isn’t it?”
“And you…you just thought you could manhandle me and dump me here.”
Despite her being the one with the knife I started to lose my temper. “Well what did you want us to do, Stacey? Leave you naked and lying on the ground? Bloody hell, woman, is it too much to ask you to show a little gratitude?”
Fortunately this got through to her, rather than making her freak out and go on a slashing frenzy. She stood up and let the knife hang loosely at her side. “Okay, I suppose you’ve got a point. And yeah, you did get me out so…even, okay?”
“Excellent. So, Stacey…”
“Yes, sugar?”
“How about getting some clothes on, yeah?”
She considered the idea, and nodded. I pointed to Arabella’s bedroom. On the way she stepped carefully over Zack, who had considerately put his hand very firmly across his eyes.
“What now?” he asked once she’d closed the door.
“Now? Now we get to work.”
“Anything?” Zack asked, but he must have known from the look on my face that we’d run into another dead end. I threw the phone at the sofa.
“Easy there, rebel,” said Stacey from the kitchen, where she was liberally applying some of Arabella’s nail varnish that she’d found in the bathroom.
“No point in breaking it,” I muttered. “That wouldn’t get us anywhere. It’s just good to let off steam.”
“There must be other people you can call,” she said.
“Not without setting off alarms,” said Zack. “You did try Julie’s landline, right?”
I nodded. “That was my first guess after they didn’t answer the mobiles. Nobody picked up. Wouldn’t have been sensible to leave a message.”
“I don’t know. Those runes I helped her to put on the place are pretty hardcore. And they’re nothing compared to the leftover stuff of her Dad’s that are lining the walls. The place is a fortress.”
“Against the Host?” I asked.
“Yeah, well maybe not against them. I just think it’s worth trying.”
“It was always more likely they’d come here than go there. Arabella’s a fugitive like us, even if Julie’s in the clear. There aren’t many people who know about this apartment. I’m pretty sure, given how vague the lawyer was, that my name wouldn’t be found on any deeds if you went digging. It was more of an informal inheritance. So it’s this joint, rather than Julie’s, that’s actually our safe house.”
“I’m bored,” said Stacey, stirring a cup of coffee that she clearly had no interest whatsoever in drinking. She’d somehow taken Arabella’s rather practical wardrobe and created her own brand of risqué outfit. Tight jeans had been slashed at the thigh with scissors, and there were gaping holes in the T-shirt that had no business being there.
“You can leave if you want,” I told her. “They might not even have noticed you’ve gone missing from the pit yet. And you haven’t been accused of murdering a high-ranking angel.”
“Might even be best for you if you did leave,” said Zack, with hope in his eyes.
She bobbed her head from side to side, weighing it all up, before coming to a conclusion. “Nah. Way I figure it, Malachi, you’re turning out to be a useful guy to be owed favors from. I help you out a bit more, you owe me a bit more. It’s working out well so far.”
Zack glanced at his watch. “Nearly ten. We’ve been at this for the best part of two hours and got absolutely nowhere. We don’t know where they are, and they probably think we’re still somewhere in the Great Library. I’m stumped.”
“Damn it,” I said jumping up. “How stupid are we?”
“Is this a rhetorical question?” Stacey asked. “They keep tripping me up. Never got the hang of them.”
Zack was shaking his head, but no
t at what she was saying. “They know,” he told me. “They know Benny was there. And Bud. And they know you’re tight. The Host don’t like the Fades as a rule, but they’re going to have at least one set of eyes on the bar. They’ll take you before you step foot inside.”
I thought about it, and nodded. “You’re probably right. But we’ve got to start taking some risks. Let’s start with a small one.
We holed up on the second floor of a derelict building a two blocks from Benny’s, and out of the line of sight. Close enough, but not too close. Then we sent Stacey out with very clear instructions, and I paced anxiously while we waited for her to get back.
“Quit that, would you?” said Zack. “You’re making me nervous.”
“That’s healthy,” I told him. “Stick with it. But stop biting your nails.”
Stacey was back fifteen minutes later. “You see him?” Zack asked her.
“Nope. He wasn’t out front. The bar guy, Alex, took a message for me. Came back with a note for you. Here.” She handed over a folded slip of paper.
“What is it?” asked Zack.
“Don’t know, I didn’t look. I promised not to.”
“You promised not to?” Zack repeated, not even trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice.
“Fine, it’s charmed, okay? I can’t unfold it, can’t read it.”
“That sounds rather more realistic.”
“Cut it out, both of you,” I said, and took the paper. It held an address, five or six blocks from Benny’s. “This is it?” I asked. “This is all he gave you?”
She held up her hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. You asked, I went. And I’m feeling really, really unappreciated at the moment. In case you’re interested.”