The Left-Hand Path: Prodigy

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The Left-Hand Path: Prodigy Page 3

by T. S. Barnett


  “Darling,” Nathan scoffed, looking scandalized as he touched a hand to his heart, “you honestly think I would come all the way here just to drop three stories of masonry on the very people we came to help? What a waste of effort.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to ask nicely, of course.”

  “There are going to be a lot of unfriendlies in there,” Cora pointed out. “Shouldn’t somebody come with you?”

  Nathan reached out to affectionately rub the shaved side of her head. “Nonsense. If I’m going to do something stupid, I may as well keep you out of trouble while I do it. You can arrange my funeral for me if I don’t come back. Make sure there are a sufficient number of wailing maidens to mourn my passing.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  Nathan smiled at her. “I’ll leave a little insurance policy with you.” He reached behind him into his bag and retrieved the leather-wrapped shard of flint he’d presented her with the last time they stood outside a Magistrate building.

  She looked down at the charm as he handed it to her. “You just said you weren’t going to blow the building up. Isn’t this for blowing things up?”

  “It’s only an activator. I’ve realigned it to another helpful little trinket. You keep track of time for me, and if I don’t come back in precisely ten minutes, you set this off, hm? Do you remember the word?”

  “Yeah, I do, but...are you sure about this?”

  “Of course. Don’t fret, my love. But do keep a good count; I’ve got the other end of that spell in my pocket.” He checked his watch against hers, passed his bag off to her, and turned his attention to Thomas without waiting for her answer. “Your people,” he said. “Lena and Michael, was it? What do they look like? Which one’s the witch? I wouldn’t want them trying to foist a couple of fakes off on me.”

  “Lena is. She’s about my height, pale blonde hair. She wears glasses. Michael is huge. Big, muscular type. Piercing in his nose.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be back shortly. Start counting now, Cora. Ten minutes, hm?”

  Elton moved to block his way. “I don’t like this. We need a better plan than ‘Nathan walks in and kills people.’“

  “Whatever for?” He laughed and gave the former Chaser’s chest a comforting pat. “Caution is not always rewarded, darling. Sometimes you must be bold.”

  Nathan breezed by him, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets as he strode easily down the sidewalk toward the entrance to the building. He paused at the doors and peered through the glass, then pushed the handle forward and let himself inside. Men and women bustled around him, some carrying file folders or tablets, some with their cell phones up to their ears. No one spared him a second glance as he made his way to the front of the short line of people waiting to speak to the man at the front counter.

  “Sir, you’ll have to wait,” the young man started, but he stopped as soon as he raised his eyes to the man at his desk.

  “Good evening,” Nathan said, leaning his elbows on the high counter while the man stared at him. “I believe you’re holding a couple of my friends. I was hoping I might take them with me.”

  The office worker’s mouth hung open, but no words came out. Nathan waited politely for him to collect himself and form an answer, acutely aware of the shifting of bodies around him as wary Chasers took notice and began to form a close circle behind him. The young man at the desk abandoned his post and hurried to a far corner to whisper among the retreating office workers.

  The pull of a binding spell twitched the muscles in Nathan’s arms, and he scanned the faces of the men and women closing in on him. He spoke the counterspell and spared himself the indignity of actually being knocked to the floor, but the binding kept a tighter hold on him than he expected. It actually took him a moment to shake off the sensation—not a common occurrence among the Chasers he’d met.

  “Don’t touch him,” a voice called out from behind the subtly retreating circle. A man shouldered his way through the ring of Chasers to stand in front of Nathan, his eyes narrow and focused. He had fair skin, and his dark hair was pushed neatly back away from his sharp face. He looked young—in his early twenties, maybe. Too young to be standing there with that cold, calm look on his face when Chasers twice his age were inching backward.

  “Maybe you can help me,” Nathan said in a pleasant voice. “I’m looking for—”

  “I know why you’re here,” the boy cut him off. “For them. Yes?” He gestured behind him, the sweep of his arm parting the crowd of bodies as a man and a woman were guided forward. The woman was petite, with glasses slipped low on her nose and blonde hair loose and wild down to her shoulders. Her eyes were red and empty—any tears they once held were long since shed, the only remaining sign of them the cracked trails they’d left in her foundation. The man beside her was hulking and broad, and the dead, staring look on his face told Nathan everything he needed to know. He’d had the ingnas. The girl had the dazed, feverish look of someone recently out from under the cuimne. They were too late.

  “We processed them this morning,” the young Chaser said. “We only kept them here so you would come.”

  “My, but I’m in high demand these days,” Nathan answered with a chuckle. “You’re the latest Chaser to try his hand at me, are you?”

  The boy stared at him with unwavering, icy eyes. “I’ll be the last.”

  Nathan hummed in approval. “Feisty. I like that.”

  “Where are your companions? Where’s Willis?”

  “Sorry. Just me today.”

  The boy’s blue eyes narrowed to slits. “Lying,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Maybe if we keep you, too, your friends will follow.”

  Nathan couldn’t help the short laugh that burst from his lips. “That would certainly be a good plan, if you were trying to keep anyone but me.”

  The couple was lost. There was no help he could give them. Now he just needed to keep the Chasers distracted while he counted down the rest of his time. Ten minutes exactly. He glanced back to the couple and paused as he noticed the man leading them forward. Chris, Elton had called him—he looked pale and thin, like his skin was drawn too tightly over the bones of his cheeks.

  “Good lord,” Nathan laughed, “look at what the cat dragged in. That is you, isn’t it, spare? Still hanging in there post-mortem, are we?”

  “Fuck yourself,” the Chaser growled, but his voice sounded weaker than he’d probably hoped. His hands at his sides made fists that failed to hide the tremor in them.

  The younger man inserted himself between them, lifting his hand to show the thin silver chains woven around his fingers and palm. “подчиняться.”

  Nathan felt his throat constrict under the force of the silencing spell, and he had to catch himself on the desk to keep his knees from touching the floor as the binding pushed him downward. He ran through three counterspells in his head before he hit on the one that freed him, but he managed to push himself away from the desk, and with a jut of his chin, he sent the group of Chasers between himself and the door flying backwards into the walls. The young Chaser scowled at him, his sneer intensifying as Nathan winked at him and tapped a finger to his own lips to hint at the uselessness of the silencing.

  “Don’t let him near the door,” the Chaser snapped, focusing sharply on Nathan’s hand in his jacket pocket.

  Nathan held up three fingers on his free hand, counting them down to one as he rolled his trinket in his pocket, and when time was up, he tossed the charm toward the Chaser and bolted for the exit. He barely caught sight of the boy throwing up a shimmering barrier as the enchanted bauble exploded behind him. The glass in the front doors shattered around Nathan as he tumbled down the front steps, the heat of the fire at the back of his neck. He stumbled into the street with laughter on his lips, and flames poured from the broken windows behind him as he ran.

  “Nathan!” Cora called to him, allowing herself to be taken by the sleeve and pulled along into a jog beside
him. She struggled to drag both skittering suitcases behind her. “Are you okay?” Elton and Thomas were right on their heels as they rounded the corner.

  “What did you do?!” Elton demanded.

  “No time for questions, dears; come along.”

  As soon as they were out of sight of the building, Nathan whistled for a taxi and all but shoved the three of them inside, tossing their suitcases into the trunk with careless haste.

  “What did you do?” Elton snapped once they were inside, pressing his still-laughing companion roughly against the car window with one hand fisted in the front of his shirt. Cora tugged at his arm and shouted in protest, but he didn’t budge. “Where are they?”

  “Control yourself, darling; we aren’t alone,” Nathan answered, finally taking a breath and composing himself. He smiled and waved at the concerned-looking driver to reassure him. “There wasn’t anything to be done. Their sentence was carried out this morning.”

  Elton’s grip loosened on him, but he didn’t quite let go. “You’re sure?”

  “I saw them myself. They were just bait.”

  Cora looked over at Thomas, who sat beside her with a beaten, weary look on his face. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “Hey,” the driver interrupted, turning over his shoulder to look at them, “where to? Meter’s running.”

  “The St. Regis,” Nathan answered promptly. “It’s the only place worth staying in this town.”

  The driver eyed their little group through the rear-view mirror with a skeptical frown on his face, but he refrained from commenting as he pulled the taxi back into traffic. They were barely moving before Elton cast a barrier around them, silencing their conversation from the prying ears of their mundane driver.

  “What happened in there? Didn’t we agree not to blow the building up?”

  “There wasn’t anything I could have done to those people that they wouldn’t have thanked me for,” Nathan shot back, swatting the blond’s hand away from his shirt front and relaxing into his seat. “There was nothing left of them. Besides, it was more of a distracting explosion than a damaging one. It was chock-a-block with Chasers inside; I’m sure at least one of them was smart enough to put up a barrier.” He tilted his head as he looked over at Elton. “Your former partner was in there, by the by. Looking rather worse for wear, but moving about, just like I promised. You’re welcome.”

  “Hao was there?” Elton’s brow knit into a frown.

  “Don’t look so surprised. I told you he’d be fine, didn’t I? You never trust me. He had a rather severe-looking youngster with him, asking about you by name. You’re really moving up in the world, darling.”

  “That doesn’t concern you at all? Why would Hao be in New York unless he was sent after us?”

  “I’m supposed to be surprised they sent someone after us? I know you’re new to this game, Elton, but you must at least have realized that there would be Chasers actually chasing us. It’s in the name, after all.”

  “They knew where we were going,” Thomas said, quietly interrupting before Elton could say something rude. He finally lifted his head when the others turned to look at him. “They must have been here already. There’s no way they got here from Toronto since Matthew called them.”

  Cora scooted forward in her seat to better face them. “Well they know what we know, right? If they’re after us specifically, I’m sure they were told everything the Magistrate got from Thomas.”

  “And they probably have the same file that I have,” Elton added. “We’ll need to be smarter about this.”

  “Don’t fret,” Nathan said, patting him on the knee. “You’ll learn the ropes of being on the run in no time. You have the very best teacher.”

  The taxi pulled up along the sidewalk in front of the tall, carved marble facade of the hotel. Elton broke the barrier separating them from their driver while Nathan paid him with a glamour, and together the four of them climbed out of the car and gathered their baggage. Cora stretched and took a few steps backward to peer beyond the lighted awning up at the countless windows facing the street.

  “We’re staying here?”

  “This is New York, my love—anything but the best may as well be a hostel.”

  Nathan led the way into the lobby, his companions marveling at the polished marble and golden detailing with varying degrees of obviousness. A glimmering chandelier hung from the center of the domed ceiling, surrounded by painted murals of pale clouds in a blue sky. Every railing on the curved stairs was gold and filigree, and carved golden columns flanked the broad counter opposite them. Elton only let his eyebrows lift in appreciation, but Cora laughed and swore under her breath. The woman behind the front counter greeted them with a slightly skeptical look, but once Nathan had spoken to her and leaned his elbows on the marble to smile at her, she was ringing a bell for someone to carry their bags and handing him a set of card keys.

  A boy loaded their bags onto a small cart and escorted them to their room, which, to no one’s surprise, was actually a sprawling suite. Cora counted no fewer than fifteen rooms as she explored, including three bedrooms, four full and two half baths, a kitchen, a dining room, an office, and three separate sitting rooms. Every one had a faint, fresh floral scent, as though perfume were being pumped through the air vents. A handsome and smiling man in a suit appeared shortly after them, offering tea and coffee and making his way through the bedrooms to make sure everything was in order. There was even a fruit basket waiting for them on the dining room table. Elton hesitated only briefly before accepting the man’s offer to have his suits pressed, which earned him a sly sidelong smile from Nathan.

  Nathan ordered room service for all four of them—a ridiculously rich spread of steak, fish, chicken, and a variety of fresh vegetables. There was even wine, cheesecake, and crème brûlée. Cora ate until she wished she’d brought sweatpants, promising her future self that good deeds burned extra calories.

  Thomas kept to himself, settling on one of the many sofas with his head in his hands. He didn’t touch any of the food. Cora watched him from the archway separating the sitting room from the dining table, her elbows in her hands as she tried to decide whether or not he wanted to be spoken to. He had helped comfort her when she’d woken up afraid and sick and feverish from the cuimne. Maybe she could help him, too. She decided that whether or not he wanted it, he probably needed someone to talk to, so she stepped quietly over to the couch to sit next to him. He let his hands drop as her weight shifted the cushions beside him, but he didn’t look at her.

  “It’s not your fault, you know,” she said. She knew it would sound hollow to him, but she didn’t know what else to say.

  “No,” he agreed, unexpected certainty in his voice. He took a short breath and let it out in a sigh. “It’s the Magistrate’s fault. And Matthew’s.” He turned his head to look up into her eyes. “Moore—you trust him, don’t you?”

  “With my life,” she answered immediately.

  “You don’t think he—” Thomas hesitated before continuing. “He was telling the truth, wasn’t he? He wouldn’t lie about them already being...lost. Just to make trouble.”

  Cora shook her head. “He’s not like that. I don’t know all the stories that get passed around about him, but I know his reputation. And he isn’t the person everyone thinks he is.” She glanced at the doorway, pausing to listen for Nathan’s distant voice in the other room. “He might not like me telling you personal things about him, but...Adelina, the woman that was with us before? That’s his daughter, and her mother was a mundane. The Magistrate caught her, and she died from the ingnas. I thought he was going to punch Elton when he found out. So he’s...pretty passionate about it. I really think he’s going to do whatever he can to help your people.”

  Thomas actually looked a little relieved by that answer. “Maybe I can still contact Lena once they take her back to Toronto. Once she’s…served her sentence.” He didn’t have to say it. They both knew that the woman would be put under the
cuimne as punishment for her ‘indiscretion.’ Thomas let out a sharp exhale. “Michael will need help, even if he responded well.”

  “You know, Nathan taught me how to make a tonic that’s supposed to help the effects. In witches, at least. He’s probably better at it than me. I bet if you asked him, he’d make some for you.”

  “I...might. Thank you.”

  “It’s been a crazy few days,” she said in a softer voice. “I don’t know about you, but I’m still not a hundred percent after being under that cuimne spell. So I’m going to take advantage of what I’m sure is going to be one of the nicest beds I’ve ever slept in and actually get a good night’s rest. You should too. Tomorrow we can think about the next step.”

  Thomas nodded but didn’t answer her. He seemed to be done talking, so she let him be. She wandered through a few rooms before she managed to actually find Nathan and Elton, who had finally settled into somewhat-congenial silence on opposite sofas. Elton had his file open on his lap again, but Nathan was idly perusing the hotel’s brochure of amenities, looking quite relaxed, as though he hadn’t set off an explosion in a government building just an hour before.

  “There isn’t a pool,” he said to no one in particular. “I could have sworn there used to be a pool.” He gave a soft suck of his teeth and turned the page in the pamphlet. “Oh my—’delights delivered,’ it says. Oh,” he added after a pause. “Cakes and flowers and things. That isn’t the sort of delights I hoped for.” He leaned his head back to peer at Cora in the doorway. “How do you like the lodgings, my love? A step up from a Magistrate cell, hm?”

  “I don’t even want to think about how much this would cost if we were actually paying for it,” she said with a soft laugh, plucking the pamphlet from Nathan’s hands as she dropped down beside him. “Ooh, they have a salon.”

  “Have you tested out all the beds? Picked out your favorite view?”

  Elton finally looked up. “She isn’t staying with you?”

  “Uh, no,” Cora chuckled. “I’m the only girl here. I get my own room. That’s the rule.”

 

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