You can move with it, right?
Yes...well, I think so, Ian said, and Scythe could feel how much of him was dedicated to maintaining the focus needed for the barrier. Never tried to move through fire...
Let’s give it a try. We can’t stay here.
Ian nodded.
How long can you hold it?
Several minutes at least.
Good. Then he looked over the two Kin and one Human they had pulled out of the room where they had been trapped; one of the explosions had caused a beam to fall from the ceiling and block the only door to the small lab where they had been working late. The long, heavy bar of steel had been too much for Ian and Scythe to move on their own, so Ian had formed one of his larger cords, wrapped the bar and lifted it up. He had held it until Scythe pried the door open and evacuated all three. When the last was safely across the room, he let it drop to the ground with a tremendous crash.
Between that and the flames that swirled harmlessly above them, the three of them were having a very unusual and eye opening day.
Scythe said to them, “Okay. We’re going to try moving. I know you can’t see the shield, but it is there and it will protect us from the fire until we can get to safety. But, it is barely covering us all, so you need to stay very close to me. No, don’t crowd Ian. He needs to focus. Over here. Good.”
Let’s go.
They moved forward at a good pace, crossing the hall in a matter of minutes. Ian used another ribbon to open the door and they all stopped and stared. The whole hallway was engulfed in flames; even the walls were on fire.
“We’re...we’re not going down there, are we?” asked the Kin woman fearfully. She and the other Kin man had instinctively clung to each other and they huddled even closer together at the sight of the hallway that was supposed to be their way to safety.
“Yes, and we need to make it quick. Keep up with me. Let’s move.”
They started down the hall in tightly packed pairs. The shield shrank until it barely covered them. When they got to the first door, the one Scythe had hoped they could use, it was smoking. Ian created a bubble in his barrier and hit the portal solidly; the door burst inward and they saw that the room inside was completely overtaken. They continued down the hall. The next door, however, was not as bad as the first and through it Scythe spied his goal: a large window that signaled an outside wall.
“This is it. We’re going for the window.”
They couldn’t take a direct route because there was office furniture and some filing cabinets in the way, so they traced a curved path through the room that seemed to take forever.
With a fraction of his attention, Scythe listened to the transmissions on the headset he had borrowed from Summer.
“It’s in the vent,” Captain Reave’s voice sounded thoughtful, or distracted, which put Scythe on alert.
“What, sir?”
“I can smell it, finally. Arina. It takes a while to build up to high enough concentrations to be sufficiently flammable, at which point, of course, it finally becomes detectable.”
“Sir, what is your location?” The woman was getting concerned for him. So was Scythe.
“Ian…” Scythe began. He didn’t know how much more Ian could do, but there was at least one more run they needed to make before they were finished.
“I’m almost there…” Reave said, and then his voice was cut off by an explosion that Scythe heard twice: through the headset as well as with his ears. It wasn’t far off...
Their group had only a few feet left to cover before they reached the window when the explosion that had cut off Captain Reave weakened a section of the roof. It broke away, fell onto the edge of Ian’s shield and slid down to the ground; it settled right next to the man Scythe had been holding on tightly to, which was fortunate, because he tried to bolt.
“We’re almost out. Just hang on,” Scythe told him, yanking the man back until he was right up against him.
“Oh...okay. Okay,” the man stuttered. His eyes were darting back and forth.
Finally they made it to the window. Ian used another thick cord and cleaned out the broken glass that jaggedly stuck up from the sill and then Scythe helped the three Huran laboratory scientists through the window and outside.
He looked at Ian who was getting ready to climb out himself. His face was tightly held and he was sweating, but other than that he looked all right. Scythe could also tell that he was doing well enough by the steady way his power was held around him.
We’ve got one more thing to do.
What?! Ian didn’t even try to hide his reaction. He stared at Scythe unbelievingly.
And we need to move fast.
Ian picked up on the urgency in Scythe’s thoughts, and with a swallow and a breath calmed himself. He nodded determinedly and they moved as one to the door, twice as fast as they had when they were escorting the others.
Within moments they were crossing the courtyard and Scythe felt Ian’s relief the moment he let the shield go. He automatically put his hand out and steadied his friend when he stumbled.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
They passed by the rooms that had been home to the military for the last couple of weeks; they had already alighted and were burning steadily, the fire consuming the personal belongings and equipment of the border patrol and the Scere’s military unit. It didn’t bother him. Property was replaceable. It was the irreplaceable things that had to be safeguarded.
“Captain Reave! What is your status?!” She had been hailing him repeatedly but had had no response.
Then Reave mumbled, “Underground, maybe.”
“Underground?”
When they got to the entrance that led to the hall where Reave’s office was, Scythe knelt down in front of the man; he was in shock and had been hurt badly by what looked like a powerful impact. When the Kin moved his head and one arm, Scythe decided it was safe enough to transport him. He leaned over and started gathering the man up, without a doubt causing him some intense pain, because Reave’s eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out.
“Time to go,” Scythe said, and then he noticed that the smell that had been steadily increasing around them quickly intensified.
Ian! Shield!
The red and orange flower bloomed around them, sending its petals out to devour everything it touched. They swayed in an unseen wind that blew against them, around them and then past them, shrieking and shaking them in frustration and then moving forward to find more easily obtained sustenance.
-----------
Hmm. Blue or black? He guessed it didn’t really matter. He turned to the woman and asked her, “Blue or black?”
She stared straight forward while he looked inside. She really loved that black car.
Blue it is. He sent her to get the keys and began transferring their things over. As soon as she returned, he switched out the cars, hiding in the garage under the car cover the one that Jenna had shown up with. When everything was stowed in the new sedan, he carried a chilled Mercy into the house, and then came back to close the garage door. He turned to the woman who had been pulling weeds in the garden since the moment she had handed over the keys.
“Um, auntie?”
“Yes, dear?” she answered without stopping.
“Could you help me inside?”
“Of course, sweetie.” She said and brushed off her hands. “Let me just get these cleaned up.”
“I’ll do it,” he said, scooping up the small pile of dandelions and grass.
“You are a darling,” she said, patting him on the shoulder and then leaning on it slightly to help herself up. “Oh, these old bones.”
He walked with her into the house, dumping the weeds in the trashcan by the door. When she had washed her hands, she asked, “Where’s Winnie?”
“She’s sleeping on the couch. Do you have any clothes she could wear?”
“Well, there are a few upstairs in her old room, still. I’ll go get them.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll do it. Maybe you could start a warm bath? She is chilled after falling in that pond.”
“Silly girl. She’ll catch her death if she’s not careful,” she mumbled, heading towards the bathroom.
Cord went upstairs and found several pieces of clothing in the closet. All were oversized for Mercy, which was fine because they would be much easier to get on than the pair of jeans in her backpack. The clothes she had been wearing when she was taken to the center were gone, of course. He grabbed what he thought they would need and returned to the living room, where the woman who thought her niece had come for a visit was just removing the wet shift.
“I’ll take it,” Cord said, and carried it to the kitchen where he hung it over the sink. He was definitely not losing track of that piece of dynamite lingerie. It was too bad he had lost his bounty hunter…
When he got back, the woman had covered her niece with a bath towel, which Cord made sure to hold in place when he carried her to the bathroom.
“I’ll take care of her,” the woman said, after he had lowered her into the water. He allowed her to push him to the door, but stood by listening while she bathed Mercy. “You don’t have to hover. I think I know how to bathe a child.”
Cord didn’t answer.
She chuckled, “Men.”
He let her think what she wanted to. He wasn’t about to let Mercy die of drowning after going through all the trouble of getting her back. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it, auntie.”
“I won’t have any trash talk, boy.”
Sigh. “Yes, ma’am.”
She reminded him of another old lady from the neighborhood where he grew up. Ornery and strict, that woman would chase you with a stick and beat you with it if you got out of line within earshot. She also made cookies. And dinner, if you were in need, but you had to use your best table manners if you planned on getting through the meal with your hand intact.
She’d been beaten to death for mouthing off to the wrong “punk kid” when Cord was eleven.
The smell of some flowery shampoo reached his nose along with the sounds of scrubbing. Then, water being poured from a cup.
“It’s odd. She never used to sleep this deeply before…” Her ability to believe the reality that he had placed in her mind was slipping. It was probably because it was something that he was still developing and he wasn’t very skilled at it yet. Similar to his directives, the reality he implanted distorted the woman’s perceptions, making her believe that her niece really looked and acted like Mercy, and her niece’s boyfriend was a man like Cord. He had run a similar scam on Warren Liftner to drive him to live out the fantasies that Cord chose for him.
Cord went in and took control of her again, giving her the instructions about the new car in her possession, the memory of her niece’s trip that she would wake up with, and the strong desire to retire for the evening.
“Well, I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning, dear,” she said, getting up, patting him on the head, and leaving without a backward glance.
“Goodnight, grannie,” Cord mumbled, and finished rinsing off Mercy’s hair.
A short time later, he sat with a bowl of fried eggs and toast at the small kitchen table. He ate slowly, savoring the simple flavors and textures of the typical bordertown meal. When he was done, he washed the dishes and stacked them back on the counter.
He turned off the light, passed through the swinging door and crossed the living room to sit on the short table in front of the couch. He sat and watched her not-sleep, his face impassive. Mercy had not stirred once in the seven hours since he had left the center. He leaned over and checked her pupils and pulse again, but they both looked normal to him. On the other hand, he wasn’t a doctor, so he wasn’t sure what exactly to look for.
It had occurred to him to check her mind with his power, but every time he got serious enough to do it, he balked. It made him nervous to think about it. If he fought the nervousness and moved closer to her, he got sick to his stomach. If he fought that, he became dizzy and started to pass out.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he couldn’t use his power on her. He’d been programmed. He had no idea when, but he knew who. The who was a real pro, which made him rightly suspicious of dying if he pushed it any further. Since he thought it would blow if he killed himself involuntarily after finally deciding to live again, he gave up on the idea.
Another man might have been offended, but not Cord. He was a criminal, a murderer, a rapist, a liar, a greedy, selfish bastard that used people like tissue paper and then threw them away. He had been like that for a long time, and, although he hadn’t actually done any of the really bad things in a long while, he didn’t see any point in pretending that he wasn’t still every bit the asshole he’d always been.
Of course Scythe didn’t trust him. Besides, it was his Mercy, and where she was concerned, he took no chances. Everyone knew that. Nothing to be offended about.
If he had a Mercy, maybe...no, he’d definitely be the same way.
Still, it didn’t help him right now. He took a deep breath and stood up. He took the supplies he had stolen from Winnie’s aunt, and what things he had brought into the house to look over out to the car. Then he returned for Mercy. He loaded her onto the backseat of the car, tucking a handmade quilt around her.
“Time to go,” he said, using the expression that Ian and Lena Young had brought with them out of the borderlands. He got behind the wheel and turned onto the road, heading out of town.
Those two were the strangest pair he’d ever met. Bordertown rats for sure, down to being orphaned like half the kids he grew up with. Somehow, they’d made their way to the city, like almost no one ever did, and had adapted to it so well that even city folk didn’t recognize them for what they were. Clean, sweet talking, gentle manners, high ideals, compassionate to a fault. Heh, it was more accurate in Ian’s case...and his daughter’s for that matter...to say dangerously compassionate.
He had wondered more than once how all the traits of the ignorant, sheltered city brats had been able to worm their way into the spirits of two people who had been through the same types of things he had. At first, he thought their manners were affected. Later, he had supposed it was just willful stubbornness to rise above their beginnings. But, after living with them, he realized that they had been that way all along.
The idea was ridiculous, of course. No one from the bordertowns could believe what they believed, care like they cared, give like they gave. It was impossible. The life just didn’t permit it. Or, rather, it was death to try to live like that.
Like granny, who was one of his first teachers. Good manners and high minded ideals did not prevail over a pipe.
Or like his mother, who was another. Love was something you sold, and sex was something you took when you could, because warm moments were scarce.
His uncle. Be smart, because being out smarted meant being hungry, or cold, or dead.
His father. Take what you can. If someone is dumb enough to leave it around, you deserve to have it. If you are too weak to keep it, it’s not yours; it’s just passing the time with you until its owner comes along to get it.
His real father. Everyone is a tool. You can use or be used.
All the kids he grew up with. Everyone is open season, all the time.
The law. Be the one that makes the rules, not the one that follows them.
The real law. Real power is knowing what scares the shit out of people and having the balls to use that.
And in defiance of all the sane people: Scythe. Lena. Ian. Faith. Smoke. If you don’t like the way things are working in the world, don’t live in that world.
Don’t live in that world.
Cord shook his head. Radically mentally unfit.
Mercy had taught him a lesson, too, but she was not the first to show him that. And, since her predecessor was dead, so was that lesson, so Mercy needed to stop fucking pushing him so much, trying to make him se
e what he already knew but couldn’t, wouldn’t fucking deal with.
He gripped the steering wheel and shook it a little, and then calmed himself down. He counted again. Three days if he drove straight through, stopping only to sleep for short periods. He started to think about what he would do after he dropped her off at home. Maybe he’d travel south. He’d never been there before.
After a long while on the road, he felt a small, distant disturbance behind him, and glanced at the back seat. She hadn’t moved at all, but her power had, just a bit. He let his own expand, until it brushed up against her, just probing. He encountered a thin film, where there had been nothing around her before. It began to crumple under his light touch, so he pulled back. When he probed again, it was there, rebuilding itself.
He drove for hours. Every few minutes or so he would press again, just enough to elicit a response. Each time, the shield was stronger and her power steadily increased until her shield came all the way up late into the night. Her significant energy humming behind him made him jumpy after so much time next to nothing. For some reason, it felt more intense than he remembered...
When out of the blue she barked a sharp, “No!” he flinched. He shook his head and forced himself to relax. He hadn’t known how tense he was until he made his shoulders drop and his back loosen. He pulled over the car and turned in his seat. Reaching over, he shook her and called her name.
She frowned and turned away at first, starting to push at his hand. Automatically, her power reached out to him, and he let her in just enough to recognize him. She woke up all at once, sucking in a breath and opening her eyes. She grasped onto his wrist tightly. Her heart was pounding in her chest and her eyes roamed the ceiling before taking a wider tour of the car.
“Mercy,” Cord said again, drawing her attention.
She stared at him and blinked a couple of times. Her heart rate had not slowed at all. She made a small whining sound in the back of her throat and turned toward him, pressing his hand to her face.
Halfblood Legacy Page 35