"No," Ramon said, suppressing a smile. "I disguised myself as a fabled jinn god called Natrik. Poor Mr Gorski was simply a pawn, so desperate to be granted jinn powers he was willing to do anything I asked of him."
"So it's your fault he accosted me in the park?"
"I was attempting to let you know how important it was that you took the role of Deiwo seriously. Perhaps the over-eager Thad Gorski wasn't the best messenger to send in my stead."
"No, perhaps not."
They lapsed into silence, each watching the other from the corners of their eyes, both reflecting on the sordid truths ripped apart and spread before them like glittering confetti.
"What will happen now?" Christa finally said. "Can't the fae stop Bredia?"
"That is impossible," Ramon said, a deep sadness casting his face in shadow. "We cannot turn on our own kind. It would mean the end of our society, the crumbling of the Inbetween. It has never and will never be done. Even Bredia won't aim her violence directly at us. She does it surreptitiously, through her human puppets. You, dear Christa, were our loophole."
"Wait," Christa said, holding up a hand to silence him. "I'm confused again. Bredia is fae? I thought she was a jinn goddess."
"And what do you think the jinn are?" Ramon said. When Christa only stared at him, her face blank, he sighed and sat up in his seat. "I don't know how much you've been told about our kind, but we and our home, the Inbetween, are linked to this fragile place you call Earth. If you fall, we fall. If Earth is destroyed, so is the Inbetween. That is why we walk among you, why we tend and nurture your brightest talents and why we chastise and weaken your blackest souls. Bredia saw things differently. She has watched the relentless march of mortality through the ages with an anger in her heart that cannot be quelled. While we saw potential in war for the learning of vital lessons, Bredia only saw mindless bloodshed carried out by ignorant animals. We burn with the hope that humans will stop polluting their earth and slaughtering the birds and beasts they share it with, but Bredia is adamant all is already lost. She used to tell us we should exert more control over humanity. We should rise as gods and force them onto a better path. But that is not our way. We are not dictators or power-hungry overlords. Unfortunately, Bredia is."
"So she created the jinn?"
"Yes, but they are not a new race or species. Before she left us, Bredia stole a tremendous number of stones from the river bed of the Abrain, a long, winding river that links every plane of the Inbetween. These stones hold no power in our world, but on earth they take on a strange energy. This energy can be transferred to a mortal body and make it strong, filled with a fiery, warrior's rage. You see, Christa, the jinn are little more than half-breeds, feeding on the weakened fae magicks they glean from the stones sewn into their stomachs."
Christa gaped at Ramon for several seconds before mustering a reply. "The jinn are a lie, then?" she eventually managed.
"I suppose they are. Bredia could have called her servants anything. She chose to name them jinn because the moniker harkens back to a dark time before humanity rose to take their true place in the world, when powerful beings born of fire and thunder roamed the early cities and deserts. They were related to the fae, but their hearts were black, pulsing with irrational hate for the mortals with whom they were forced to share this earth. Your legends about genies and magical lamps originate from that time, although if a jinn did grant a wish to a human, it certainly wasn’t an act of kindness. Entering into a magickal agreement with the jinn was binding. They would strip the souls from the men under their thrall and consume them."
“What happened to them?”
“Nobody really knows. There are whispers, rumours about their defeat at the hands of an unnaturally strong mortal hero. Others say they simply found a new home, a plane of existence unknown even to us.”
Christa expelled a long breath. “Well, true jinn or not, Bredia’s lapdogs are still dangerous. I’ve seen what they do to people, how they pull out their insides with their bare hands.” She paused. “If Bredia wins, if she takes over the world and populates it with jinn, humanity won’t be able to fight back, will they?” Her voice began to tremble. “Anyone who isn’t turned jinn would be ripped apart and eaten, their corpses left to bloat and ripen in the streets.” Ramon grimaced. “And what would happen when the human stock ran out? Either mass breeding would have to be introduced, herding humanity like cattle, or the jinn would begin to cannibalise each other.”
“It would be a grim future indeed,” Ramon said.
“So what are we going to do about it?” Christa demanded. Then quieter, “I don’t want to bring my child into a world like that.”
“I don’t want you to, either, but I’m afraid your rash actions have placed us into quite a quandary.” Christa shifted in her seat, fingers fidgeting on the table top. “Bredia’s forces seem to grow in number by the hour. Even here, on this street, I can sense at least four jinn presences in the crowd, passing among their mortal cousins unseen. Bredia will put her ultimate plan into action any day now and London’s streets will run crimson with blood.” Christa shuddered. “I didn’t bring you here simply to chastise you or answer your questions, however. I aim to help you cross over to the Inbetween, to meet with my brethren so we may formulate some solution.”
Christa brightened, a small smile beginning to bloom at the corners of her mouth. “I’m going to fairyland?”
Ramon glared indignantly. “I strongly suggest you refrain from calling it that before the fae. They would be sorely insulted.” Christa nodded her agreement. “Very well,” he continued, “let us be going. We have little time left.”
He reached out across the table and grasped one of Christa’s hands. His fingers burned with heat as the cafe and the busy street began to fall away, whirling into a deep, grey cloud so thick, Christa was sure she could reach out and touch it. When the wind stopped beating against her ears and her feet felt firmly planted on solid ground, Christa looked around in dismay, disappointed to find she was still surrounded by an impenetrable cloud. The only thing she could see in the midst of the dense mass was Ramon standing before her, resplendent in his golden fae form once more.
“You were expecting rolling fields and gingerbread houses, perhaps?” he said, noting the disillusionment etched on her face.
She shrugged. “Maybe a castle or a forest.”
Ramon smiled. “Our world can be difficult for a mortal to comprehend. You are used to solid, physical forms and structures. Here, we shape the landscape with our thoughts and desires. Only the unending waters of the Abrain remain a constant.”
“You desired a large, ugly cloud?” Christa said.
“Such impatience,” Ramon said, attempting to stifle a laugh. “We are on a connecting plane, a place where the veil between my world and yours is thin. It is easier for you to be here than to be fully immersed in the Inbetween. Now, look over there, see what is forming.”
Christa followed his pointing finger and saw a door materialising from the cloud beside her, sketchy at first, like a pale watercolour. In a matter of moments it had blazed into life, the stones of its high, arched frame shimmering with translucent pinks and purples. The door itself was hewn from polished, dark wood, a single metal ring hanging from its centre.
“Should I–” Christa paused, not wishing to sound presumptuous. “Should I knock?”
“Go ahead,” Ramon said. “We shall see who answers.”
Timidly, Christa reached up on tiptoes to grasp the immense door knocker. It seemed to grow larger even as she looked at it. She swung it down towards the hard wood of the door twice, wincing as the loud knocks echoed around them before petering out into the grey cloud. Finally, the door swung inwards on creaky hinges and two beings emerged from the indistinct space behind it, so tall and fierce that Christa found herself backing away from them to stand beside Ramon.
“So, you have brought the Deiwo,” one of them said. Her voice was deep and throaty, yet it came from a startlingly b
eautiful woman. Her skin was smooth and glowing like Ramon and Kelena’s skin, but hers was infused with subtle hues of olive green. She wore a red velvet dress that flared at her hips and swirled about her as if her skirts were caught in a constant, springtime wind.
“Virikay,” Ramon said, “thank you for coming; I knew I could rely on you. And Mamur, it is good to see you too, old friend.”
At this, Virikay’s companion stepped forward and removed a wide brimmed, pointed hat from his head, bowing and sweeping it towards the floor in a respectful greeting. It shone silver against the grey cloud, blacks, blues and purples undulating across its surface. His eyes seemed too large for his thin face, huge and unblinking, and beneath the brim of his hat, two curled horns protruded from his forehead. He was shorter than Virikay and slightly hunched, although he was impeccably dressed in a deep blue suit and a white, open-necked shirt that displayed the tufts of course, grey hair sprouting from his chest. As Christa inspected him more closely, fascinated by his enormous, watery eyes and jutting horns, she realised his blue suit was subtly embroidered with thin silver thread, creating swirls and intricate patterns that mirrored Earth’s myriad constellations.
“You are admiring my suit, I see,” Mamur said to her in a thick West Country accent. “It was a gift. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Are the stars moving across it?”
“The stars move across your sky, don’t they?”
“Well, yes of course they do.”
“There you are then.” Mamur seemed to think this was explanation enough because he turned from Christa and addressed Ramon. “The others refused to come, I’m afraid,” he said. “We tried to reason with ‘em, but they were having none of it.”
“What of Kelena?” Ramon said. “She has already spoken with the Deiwo.”
“Yes, but that was before, wasn’t it. She’s not the Deiwo anymore.”
“I was afraid of this.” Ramon looked down at Christa, his shining face grave. “They are angry because of what you’ve done,” he said. “They do not wish to associate with you because you’ve rejected them and their gifts.”
“But I didn’t know they were their gifts,” Christa said, exasperated. “How can they be angry with me?”
“Our kind can be stubborn and overly sentimental,” Virikay said. She tossed her thick hair over one shoulder, making it ripple with flares of violet and rich purple. “We are all disappointed with the turn events have taken, but that doesn’t mean we should simply turn our backs and hope for the best. Bredia is not going to disappear.”
“No, I fear not,” Ramon said. He shook his head. “This is no good. We need more time to gather the others, to convince them to help us find a way to halt Bredia’s plans. We cannot give up because of this dire setback; it has to spur us into further action, not apathy.”
“I agree,” Mamur said, “but what of the girl? Will you leave her here while we talk to our folk, to wander in this fog?”
Christa stared at Ramon, silently pleading with him to return her to her own world.
“No, I have protection in place for her,” he said, smiling at Christa as she breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m glad I don’t have to wait here,” she said, “but why do I need protection?”
“Because you can no longer protect yourself,” Ramon said. “And because we may still have need of you. Bredia has been far too engrossed in her own diabolical business to realise what you really are; she believes you are simply a powerful witch. You did frighten her, however. She sees you as a threat and her followers will surely be looking for you.” He turned back to his companions. “I have sent my emissary to the vampire, to tell him that Christa will be in London and that she will need his help.”
“Wait a bloody minute,” Christa said. “I haven’t seen Dylan since New York and we certainly didn’t part on the best of terms. I don’t know if I want to see him again.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Virikay said, ignoring her. “The vampire is infused with our own magicks, he will make a formidable defender.”
“Then we are decided,” Ramon said. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked Christa.
“I suppose so.” Christa was brimming with indignation, but she also felt helpless before these magickally-charged beings who had walked the world before her ancestors had even pulled themselves from the DNA soup of humanity.
Ramon placed a hand on her shoulder and she closed her eyes, bracing herself against the now familiar swirl of the ether as they travelled. When she opened them again they were back in London, chilled by the damp shadows of a narrow side street.
Twenty Four
Christa faltered as the turning air dropped and the London night rushed up to meet her. She thrust a hand out to lean against a brick wall, out of breath and flushed with sickness.
"Are you okay?" Ramon asked.
She turned to look at him, human again, his hair an opaque blanket beneath the yellow light of the city, and attempted a small smile. "I'll be fine. I think I'm just travel sick."
"That is good. I've arranged to meet the vampire here. He should arrive soon."
Christa sighed, wondering how she would explain her burgeoning belly to Dylan.
A sudden scream rent the night, making them both look up to scan the building above them. The high pitched shriek seemed to be emanating from the top floor, piercing the blank windows lining its side. Other screams took up the call, playing against the first like a demonic melody.
"What's happening?" Christa said, edging towards Ramon.
"I don't know," he said. "I thought we would be safe here, this place is little used and inconspicuous." He moved in front of Christa as a small group of people appeared at the head of the street. "Who goes there?" he shouted.
The group were indistinct, swathed in shadow. It was only when they began to advance that Christa could make them out; five grinning jinn, led by a catlike, sinewy woman in a balaclava.
"Hello again, Christa," the woman said when they reached her. "I had a feeling you'd turn up, sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."
"Who the hell are you?" Christa said, determined not to register any fear. Only the woman's mouth and eyes were visible beneath the black balaclava. Her eyes were two glazed orbs, blood red and hard as polished marbles.
"Of course you won't recognise me," the woman said, "not in this outfit. My name's Lindy, we met briefly in New York."
"I know you," Ramon said. "You act for Bredia, and her actions are rarely good. Tell us what you're doing here."
"You're jinn," Lindy said, cocking her head as she regarded Ramon. "Interesting. What are you doing with the little witch? No matter, you won't trouble us. We're here for Christa, of course. We can't have the naughty scamp running around London, getting herself into mischief and upsetting Bredia's plans."
Ramon lunged forward, reaching for Lindy, but was instantly flanked on both sides by her cohorts. They pinned his arms to his sides and dragged him backwards, away from Christa.
"You know what I did to the Coldbloods," Christa said, hoping the jinn didn't yet know about her lack of powers. "What makes you think you can take me?"
"Pure numbers, my dear," Lindy said. She licked dry, cracked lips, an act made gross and disorientating through the hole cut in her balaclava. "The Coldbloods were stupid, they thought you could be controlled with a couple of magic stones. We know better. There are a thousand jinn surrounding you, all of them waiting for a chance to rip your pretty little throat out. You can't possibly stop us all." As she spoke, the keening shrieks surrounding them became louder, filled with a fierce, feral urgency.
With a roar that cut through the jinns’ cries, Ramon threw the men holding his arms away from him, scattering them like bowling pins across the damp tarmac. He turned on Lindy, suddenly ablaze with the piercing fire of his true fae self, his eyes burning like molten steel.
"What the fuck?" Lindy exclaimed, jumping away from him.
&n
bsp; "What the fuck, indeed," Ramon said, his chest heaving, crackling with fury. "Christa, you need to run," he said, his eyes fixed on Lindy. "There are too many coming, I won't be able to hold them all off."
Christa began to back away, unwilling to leave Ramon behind. She finally turned and broke into a run when the dark, scurrying shapes of a great outpouring of jinn began to swell before her. They gathered at the head of the street and poured down it in a mounting tide, joined by numerous others who dropped from windows and crawled down the walls of the buildings pressing in on either side. Christa ran without looking back, trying to ignore the pain beginning to burn in her chest and legs. She ran blindly, hands pressed to her stomach, furiously hoping that adrenaline alone would get her to safety.
***
Dylan stared in amazement as the man on the ground below him seemed to burst into flames, shrugging off his assailants as though they were lifeless dolls. From his vantage point on the roof of the building, he had heard the rumbling cacophony of shrieks and catcalls, had caught glimpses of shapes moving behind the darkened windows of the building in front of him. He had also seen Christa standing with the pale man with the long, black hair, looking tense and weary in an unsettling manner he hadn’t witnessed before. He had been building the courage needed to descend from the roof and reveal himself when the group of jinn arrived, surrounding the couple on the street and pulling the man away from Christa.
Dylan strained to hear what the man, now huge and terrifying, bristling with a living fire that arched across his body and wound through his hair, was saying to Christa. He continued to watch, fear rising in his chest, as she turned and began to run in the opposite direction. The glowing man seemed to waver and spread when Christa turned her back on him, stretching himself into a trembling quilt of roaring flame that encompassed the jinn rushing down the narrow street towards him. Many of them were halted in their tracks, burnt black and hollow in an instant. On the periphery, others fell to the ground in an effort to smother the blaze, set alight by floating sparks.
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