“I expected you sooner than this,” he was saying to Sorin.
Ciprian. The head of the Lynx Chain.
“I’d like to speak with you alone if I could, sir,” Sorin said, more deferential than I’d ever heard him.
Sanda and Ciprian exchanged glances. Every inner alarm I had went off. Something was going on here—the two of them had been talking about Sorin and it wasn’t anything good.
Sanda’s nostrils flared as she sniffed the air. “Oh, Sorin darling, your little friend is frightened. What did you tell her about us to make her so anxious?”
Sorin’s hand, which I now realized had never let go of me since he’d grabbed me a minute ago, tightened briefly, a warning to me to keep quiet.
No worries. I’m not about to speak up in this crowd.
If I could have sent the thought to him telepathically, I would’ve. My silence seemed to get the same message through, though, and he finally quit clutching me.
“It’s important. I have information you might want to consider.” Sorin continued directing his comments to his pack leader, ignoring the other lynx around him.
“All right,” Ciprian said amicably. “We’ll have a chat. Sanda, would you like to join us?”
“I would prefer to talk to you alone,” Sorin said tightly.
“I’ll bet that doesn’t mean leaving your little friend out here alone with me, though, does it?” Sanda didn’t bother to hide her disappointment.
“Mirela is witness to the truth of what I have to say.” Sorin’s mouth tightened and he stood straighter, his discomfort particularly obvious among his own Chain—the shifters he should have been safest with.
Just as Maicǎ and I should have been safest inside our own enclosure.
The closer Gypsy got to waking, the more everything we had taken for granted fell apart.
I’d known the various rules imposed by the Human-Fae Council, the ones that kept us safe, were a thin barrier between us and chaos. I hadn’t realized how easily our system would break down.
We were fools. All of us.
As Ciprian led us into the church, I paused to admire the framed icons decorating the outer walls, their gold gilt glinting in the sunlight. Inside, the walls were covered with even more symbols of a religion I barely knew about, its popularity having flared immediately after the world cracked, but then mostly died under the pressure of everyone knowing magic truly existed. Then again, its temples and cathedrals and churches still dotted the city, in use as places people gathered together. In some ways, many of them continued to act as symbols of the idea that people could sometimes rely upon one another for protection. I rather thought that was a nice tribute to the religion.
The faces of the images on the wall were unrealistic, medieval in their expressionlessness. As Ciprian took a seat in a gold covered wooden chair shaped like a throne, he fit in perfectly.
“Gypsy is rising.” Sorin began speaking without any prologue. “The vampires have been feeding her blood in rituals that are increasing the magic she can wield. We think they plan to raise her at her peak of power two full moons from now. The Human-Fae Council—at least some of the members of it—are working to bring her out of her grave sooner. Sanda has been working with both groups. I don’t know whose side she’s really on.” He matched his Chain leader’s blank expression.
Ciprian leaned forward, resting his weight on his forearm balanced on one knee. Narrowing his eyes, he considered us for a moment. After a long moment, he leaned back again. “Sanda is on my side.”
I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think Sorin believed him either, but all he said was, “Are you sure about that?” His voice was mild.
Ciprian’s voice, on the other hand, was rock hard. “Absolutely.”
“Did you know she was working with them before you sent me?”
Something flickered through Ciprian’s eyes. “Yes.”
“Then why send me at all?”
The two men eyed one another warily.
“Who’s your friend?” Ciprian gestured at me without answering Sorin’s question.
“She has the Vision—she reads the tarot.”
Ciprian’s attention sharpened and his gaze took on an acquisitive gleam. “Will you tell my fortune?”
Sorin nodded when I glanced at him, so I pulled my cards out. I wasn’t sure what this did besides buy us time, but I hoped it might possibly convince Ciprian to help us.
I found another chair, much less ornate than the one Ciprian sat in, and pulled it up to a small table. It felt strange to do a reading without Maicǎ, and tears almost clogged my throat when I began setting out my reading shawl and shuffling the cards.
“Would you like to draw a card?” I held the deck, slightly fanned, toward Ciprian. With a shrug and a smirk, he stood and reached out. The instant he touched the cards I felt a shock shudder through me. Whatever else he was, Ciprian was also very powerful.
With every interaction, I worried even more that we wouldn’t get out of here in time to reach the vampires’ stronghold by dark.
Or at all.
Ciprian pulled the Strength card and stared for a long moment at the illustration of a woman gently petting a lion as it gazed at her adoringly. He turned the card over, his gaze flickering back and forth between me and Sorin. “What does this mean?”
I regarded him calmly, working to keep my expression completely neutral. “It’s a card of compassion, strength and courage—but also patience and control.”
He snarled and flicked the card at me so that I flinched, but it landed on the table rather than hitting me in the face.
“It’s a trick.” Ciprian stalked to his throne-like chair and threw himself back into it.
“My readings are not trickery.” I fanned the rest of the cards out on the table. Picking up the Strength card, I set it face-up on the table. “The card you pulled is both a prediction and a warning—every card is, in fact.” I fell into the singsong cadence of readings. “If you follow the way of the card, allow your inner beast to be tamed and calm, practice patience and control and compassion, then strength will prevail.”
I glanced up at Sorin. “This is a reading for the entire Chain. Please draw another card.”
Ciprian crossed his arms and scowled as Sorin moved forward and drew a card to set beside the Strength card.
The Chariot. “There is a choice to make,” I said pointing to the black and white beasts drawing the chariot forward in the image. “The card can indicate determination and it way forward, but only through control.”
I drew the third card myself. “My influence, my connection.” The card I flipped over was the Star. “If we work together, then we have the opportunity for renewal, hope.”
Ciprian scoffed, turning away. “You expect me to believe this?” He spun on Sorin, jabbing his finger in the air inches from Sorin’s face. “You bring a charlatan into our Chain and expect me to believe what she tells us?”
“Mirela can also travel—she can See both far ahead and far afield—and we may need her.
A shiver ran through my body. Everything around me went dark and cold and for the second time, another voice came through me, choked with what I knew was grave dirt—Gypsy’s voice. “Everything in this Hollow is mine.”
Even as the words came out of my mouth, I fought against her intrusion.
“To oppose me is to die.”
With a mighty internal shove, I pushed her back.
When I again had control of my own body, Sorin and Ciprian stood across the room, their backs pressed against the wall.
“Don’t you see?” I demanded. “She doesn’t want us to work together. And if Gypsy thinks it’s a bad idea, then I cannot think of a better one.”
“I agree.” Sorin regained his composure first. I swept up my cards and tied them back inside the scarf and around my waist.
“You have no proof that that was Gypsy speaking just now.” Despite his assertion, Ciprian’s hands and voice shook.
“And y
ou have no proof that it wasn’t,” I shot back.
Ciprian paced back and forth along one icon-covered wall like a cat exploring the confines of a cage, and then shook his head abruptly. “No. Whatever the two of you have planned, I can’t allow it. Sandra is working with both the humans and the vampires. In a few short weeks, the entire city will be in disarray.”
“Have you been outside the park?” I pointed west. “It’s already insane out there.”
Ciprian continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “When that chaos is at its peak, we will make our move. This Chain will be the greatest power in the city, in the entire Hollow.”
I exchanged frantic glances with Sorin. This could not be allowed to happen.
“I challenge for Second,” Sorin announced. I blinked in surprise. I didn’t know the lynx-shifters customs, but I could guess what he had just announced—he was going to fight Sanda in order to take over her role in the Chain.
And if he lost, things would not go well for me.
Of course, if we didn’t stop Gypsy from waking, the Hollow would be one giant blood festival. Nothing would go well for anyone.
Ciprian snarled. “Are you absolutely certain that’s what you want to do?”
Sorin shrugged. “It’s the only thing I know that might get your attention.”
“Oh, you have it. It won’t change anything, but you can have your challenge. I’ll be sorry to see you die.” He headed toward the door way leading outside. “You have thirty minutes to prepare. I’ll inform Sanda.” And then he was gone.
“Are you insane?” I hissed, not bothering to keep either my anger or my terror out of my voice.
“I had to,” Sorin said. “It was the only way we were going to get out of here. There was no way either Ciprian or Sanda would let us out alive otherwise.”
A pressure grew inside me, panic bubbling up to the top.
Still, I had agreed to come into the Chain’s territory.
I hope I make it out again.
I had revenge to serve.
And I hoped Sorin would make it out with me.
I was beginning to have my doubts about that, however.
Chapter 18
“What is this fight going to get us?” I paced back and forth in the single room of the church from one saint’s picture to another.
“An escort out of Titan Park, if I win.” Sorin leaned one hip on the small table, at ease here in a way I would never be.
“And if you lose?”
“We both die.”
I suspected he was absolutely right. No matter what, though, this fight was our best chance of getting out of the Lynx Chain’s territory alive.
“You believe Sanda was really working for him?” I asked.
Sorin tilted his head and shrugged. “Hard to tell. I do believe him when he says he thinks that the chaos will give the Chain a chance to take over power in the city. Ciprian has always been interested in gaining more power than he had—he wants to show the rest of the Hollow that he and the lynx are major players.”
“Then he is a danger to us even if you win.”
“Yes, but he will abide by Chain rules long enough for us to get out of here, I think. Especially if we play it off as if we are more frightened of him than of whatever’s going on out there.”
“How likely are you to win?”
“Maybe fifty-fifty. I don’t like my odds, but I like the chances of us fighting our way out against all the lynx even less.” Sorin stood straight and squared his shoulders. “I’ll do everything I can to save us.”
“What can I do to help you get ready for this?”
“Just be prepared to run whether I win or lose.”
My stomach curdled at the thought of him losing. “How will I know?”
“If I lose, I’ll be dead.”
Of course.
“And if I win,” he continued, thinking aloud, “I’ll technically take over as Ciprian’s recognized second, so I’ll have the power to grant you safe passage out of the park.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll ask him to allow me to escort you out. Ciprian doesn’t want me to challenge him—if I beat Sanda, then there’s a chance I can take him out, to—and he doesn’t want to risk that.”
“You certain?”
Sorin shook his head. “Absolutely not—but it’s the only chance we’ve got to get out of here easily.”
Somehow, I didn’t think a fight to the death against Sanda would be easy, but I didn’t want to try to fight our way out against all of the lynx any more than Sorin did, either.
The half hour went faster than I anticipated, and when I stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, I blinked after the illusory peace and comparative dimness of the wooden church.
The lynx already stood in a circle, ready for the fight. Sorin jerked his chin toward the path out, and I slipped toward it.
As I made my way around the circle to the exit, I glanced behind me at what had been, almost a century ago, a parking lot. A few rusting hulks remained, though most of the vehicles, like the rest of them in Bucharest, had been dismantled and used in other ways once petrol became scarce, siphoned out and used to power generators. In fact, several of my grandmother’s kitchen knives came from the remains of automobiles, as did much of the metalwork in the city. They used to move people around the city. Now they served as source material for other things. When the world cracked, we learned to recycle in ways we never had before.
Now I eyed the rusted ruins, wondering how I might be able to use them to our advantage. Ciprian stepped into the center of the fight circle, making long speech about the history of the lynx and their traditions. I prowled the edges of the circle hoping to find some way to help Sorin. When Ciprian finally finished speaking, he raised his hands above his head, and then dropped them as he said, “Begin,” and stepped backward out of the circle.
I half expected Sanda and Sorin to leap at one another’s throats, but they instead moved counterclockwise, staying equidistant from one another as they paced, feeling one another out. Though they had to know one another’s strengths and weaknesses, they circled slowly, watching for an opening.
I realized that I had stopped looking for a way to help and stood virtually paralyzed by the grace of the predators. When the attack finally came, it surprised me. Sanda leapt forward, shifting from human to lynx mid-jump, as if such a change were perfectly natural and simple. She was beautiful in her deadly force.
Before my gasp had even completed itself, Sorin ducked away, flowing effortlessly along the ground into his own lynx shape—stocky and tawny, his tufted the ears swiveling to follow the sound of Sanda’s attack even as he slipped away from her landing spot. They moved around and around, Sanda seeking to use her speed against Sorin as he sought to use his bulk against her. When they finally clashed, it was with the screech of street cats times a thousand, their feline screams echoing past their snarls and growls. Their slashing claws moved so quickly that I could barely keep track of what happened, and when they came apart, both were bleeding from long gashes—but neither was hurt so badly as to pause the fight.
Their yowls echoed through the park and more lynx melted out of the surrounding foliage, drawn by the sound of the fight. The longer the battle went on, the harder it would be for us to escape. That no one had even searched me for weapons when we arrived spoke to how little the lynx feared humans—but also perhaps to how little they knew us. I might not have claws and sharp teeth, and therefore might not seem like much of a threat, but I was determined to escape Titan Park alive, with or without Sorin—though preferably with.
No one paid attention to me as I slipped away from the circle entirely. The screeches of the catfight followed me, assuring me that it continued. I moved around behind one of the rusted cars, marveling that it still existed when most of the city’s automobiles had been dismantled long ago.
The cat-shifters’ sense of superiority had left this one here, though—humans in other parts of the city had tak
en apart vehicles in order to use the component parts in other ways. Lynx didn’t feel they needed human implements, so in their territory, otherwise useful tools sat and disintegrated. Hunkering down behind the larger of the two vehicles, I peered inside. I had been entirely correct—parts of it had indeed been stripped away over the years and what was left smelled of cat urine. But by wrapping my scarf around my hand, I was able to peel away a long, thin sharp piece of half-rusted metal. It was the kind of weapon that could leave behind a wound that would fester and kill the recipient. Once I tucked it away in my skirt to use in an emergency, I shuffled through all my cards, breathing into a reading as I tried to block out my anxiety about the outcome of the battle only meters away.
I had only heard of what I was about to try. The Elders always advised against it, their warnings dire and dark, of a magic that could take me over, destroy me, leave me a shivering hulk of myself, rusting away on the outside much like the car I huddled inside now.
I had seen the results, too—every few years, an overzealous or desperate Visionary tried to combine the Sight with magic. They tended not to live long afterward, their inability to care for themselves, to eat or drink without constant supervision combined with their constant attempts to kill themselves meant that almost all of them died within months—if not weeks or days—after their magical feat.
I didn’t know if I was overzealous, but I was certainly desperate. If I only dipped into Gypsy’s magic the slightest bit…perhaps I could survive. More to the point, perhaps I could help Sorin survive. The vampires appeared to be giving Gypsy more magic, pouring power into her. I was about to try to take some of that power away. As a general rule, Gypsy didn’t appreciate having power stolen from her—not even as she slept. Most of her magical stores had been set aside and used to break the world, but she jealously guarded what was left. I could only hope that the recent influx would mean that she could spare the tiny bit I would be taking. Or perhaps that she wouldn’t notice at all.
Wicked Blood (Dark Fae Hollows) Page 10