by Laura Kirwan
His son. She forced herself out of the lethargy that kept trying to take her. “Lynette, tell me about this tracking charm. I couldn’t figure out what you were doing back there.”
Lynette gave a worried smile. “I know. I’m sorry. You wanted fireworks, but I knew they’d put up a wall first thing. The Order are good at big showy stuff and barriers, but not the smaller more personal magic. I started it the moment the truck pulled up. I could feel him in there and honed in. I can feel him now.” Her eyes filled with tears.
“He’s still alive?” Natalie asked breathlessly.
Lynette nodded and a tear slipped down her cheek. “But in pain. And scared. He’s still fighting it, but the fear is taking him.”
“The ritual,” Russ said, nodding. “Oh, hell. That’s got to be it. They’ll do the same thing to him they did to John. Jamie was sentenced to it as a kid, but Dad got him out before they’d hurt him too bad.”
“How long does it take?” Meaghan asked.
“Well, the good news, if you can call it good, is it’s not a fast way to go. They broke John down over a couple of days. It’s the Fahrayan version of capital punishment, meant to deter the worst crimes.” Russ shook his head. “We gotta get him home.”
“How much time does he have?”
Russ stared into space, watching something unfold in his mind. He turned, took a few steps away from everyone, and threw up his breakfast.
“Russ,” Meaghan said. “Pull it together. How much time does Jamie have?”
“A couple of days at least. But . . . oh God, Meg. I saw what they did to John. And what it did to him. He was a Fahrayan warrior, a king. Jamie’s a nice kid with an office job.”
She dragged Russ away from the group by the arm, grim determination etched on her face. “Don’t talk like that again,” she hissed. “I need everyone to believe he’s fighting hard and we can get him home. No giving up. Ever.”
He stared back at her for a long moment, really stared, like he was seeing her for the first time. He nodded. “I know he’ll fight hard. I just hope it’s hard enough.” Louder, so the rest could hear him, he said. “Got it, Meg. What’s the plan?”
Meaghan walked back to where she had fainted and picked up the shotgun. “I go to Fahraya. With John. We get Jamie back. But first, I need to talk to Emily. And somebody contact Melanie. I need a Troon who has experience with Fahraya to translate. As much as I want to charge in there, we have work to do first.” She headed for her car. “Everyone who needs a ride, come with me. Natalie, bring Emily to my house. We’ll make that our base of operations. We’ll be safer if we concentrate our fire power. Split the troops as you see fit. One group to help you with Emily. One group to move John, Patrice, and the kids to my house. Somebody grab that SUV and take everybody far enough away so they can zap themselves wherever they need to go.”
Kady saluted.
Meaghan smiled, feeling a tiny spark of hope. “For that Miss Smarty Pants, you’re in charge of clearing everybody’s calendars and thinking up a reason why none of us go to work tomorrow.”
Kady nodded. “On it, boss. Staff retreat. I’ll call Buzz Hallam to cover anything I can’t put off.”
“Let’s move.” She put the shotgun in the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Russ, on the way home, tell me everything you know about Fahraya, and this damn treaty I should already know about.”
Chapter 33
By the time they got home, Meaghan knew the basic outline. The treaty, such as it was, had been negotiated by Matthew to get John and Jamie out of Fahraya alive. V’hren, John’s brother, agreed, in exchange for John’s exile, to allow John and Jamie to live. If they ever attempted to return to Fahraya, V’hren would consider it an act of war and be entitled to execute them.
Even with these broad brushstrokes, Meaghan could sense the presence of something larger and darker pulling strings. V’hren’s victory seemed too complete, his path to power too straight. John had been well liked by his people and strong, but V’hren had somehow managed to undermine and overthrow him in mere days.
There had to be more to the story.
As Meaghan suspected, she was the only one who could save Jamie. Under Fahrayan tradition, only the parties to an agreement or their kin could petition the king for its enforcement. John had no credibility without his wings. Jamie, as a presumed traitor, wouldn’t be allowed to argue his own case. Matthew certainly couldn’t do it. And Russ would get fried by all the magic. Unless John and Jamie had family she didn’t know about, that left Meaghan.
Melanie and Sid were waiting for them on the back porch. “I’m coming with you to translate,” Sid announced, as Meaghan approached him. His little blue face was screwed up with worry and something else.
Resolve, Meaghan thought. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked Sid, handing the shotgun to Russ as he passed her. Russ made a face, took the gun from her carefully like it might explode, and headed upstairs to lock it up in the attic gun cabinet.
Sid nodded. “You need a translator. I speak the best Fahrayan.” He looked down at the floor. “Jamie’s my friend,” he said, fighting back tears.
“Thank you, Sid. We’ll get him home. If you’re sure you want to go, I could really use your help.”
He beamed at Meaghan, his snarky demeanor of the day before utterly vanished. Melanie walked over, put her arm around him, and kissed him on the cheek, pride and worry fighting for control of her small face. She stepped back and carefully, with trembling hand, adjusted the collar of Sid’s jacket.
She was Sid’s mother, Meaghan realized. Parent. Whatever the Troon called the Troon who bore them. Or hatched them. She had no idea how they reproduced. Another race I know nothing about, she thought, angry at herself again.
“Melanie, I need the Fahrayan treaty and any notes Matthew wrote on it,” Meaghan said. She told herself she couldn’t get those lost days back. Self-loathing was an indulgence she couldn’t afford at the moment. “You know his files better than I do.”
“I’ll go find everything I can. Sid can help me.” Melanie grabbed Sid’s hand and they entered the house.
Meaghan followed them into the kitchen. Marnie was sitting at the table.
“Where’s Matthew?” Meaghan asked her.
“In his room. Asleep. He’s been asleep since you left.”
Meaghan nodded. “Good. Would you go upstairs with Melanie and Sid and help them hunt down some files?”
“Okay, boss.” Marnie trotted out of the kitchen.
Boss. Now Marnie was calling her that. At least with Kady it was functionally true. It was like the first time a store clerk called her “ma’am.” Meaghan had looked over her shoulder to see who the clerk was talking to. Ma’am was a real grown-up. Not Meaghan.
Natalie arrived, shoving Emily through the door in front of her. “What do I do with this?” she asked. “I know what I’d like to do.”
Emily stared at the floor, shaking with fear. She wouldn’t meet Meaghan’s gaze.
Good, Meaghan thought. She should be scared. “Basement,” Meaghan said. “I’ll be down in a bit. With questions.” She waited a beat for effect. “Questions, Emily, you would be wise to answer with a minimum of bullshit. If Jamie dies, I’ll let the other witches dispense justice any way they see fit.”
Natalie scowled. “Emily, you don’t want to know what I’ll do to you. He’s family.” She shoved Emily hard toward the basement door. “Move.”
Meaghan took a couple of deep breaths. She had to stay ahead of the fear trying to overtake her. She could only do that if she kept moving. Okay, she thought, what do I do next . . .
A gentle tap on her shoulder made her whirl around. Caleb stood behind her. “Can I help?” he asked.
Oh, God. What to do with Caleb? He wasn’t working for the Order anymore, Meaghan felt confident about that. If Russ and Lynette hadn’t held him back, he would have charged and attacked the wizards in the clearing. But, they still didn’t know if the Order could control hi
m or use him somehow.
No point in tiptoeing around it. “I don’t know if we can trust you yet, if it’s safe to let you help.”
His face fell. Meaghan took his hand and squeezed it. “I know you wouldn’t betray us on purpose. But I don’t know if they can listen through you or still control you somehow. Do you understand? We want to trust you, but we aren’t sure about what they can make you do.”
He nodded slowly. “It’s not me you don’t trust, it’s them. What they can do through me.” He met her eyes. “And considering it was only last night I broke into your house, I wouldn’t trust me either.”
Meaghan smiled at him. “I know you’d never help them on purpose. If that was you pretending to hate them back in the woods, then you’re one hell of an actor. Sit tight for now. We’ll figure out something you can do to help.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for Lynette. She went to get Jamie’s family.” He sat at the table and stared up at her for a long moment. “You can do this. I know you can. It’s okay to be scared, but stay angry too.”
She stared back at Caleb. “The wizards cut symbols of some type into his chest and back. Any idea what they were? Have you seen them do that before?”
Caleb frowned. “I’ve seen them cut people up but not like that. I don’t know what those were.”
“Meaghan,” Natalie shouted from down in the basement. “You want to talk to her now?”
“Yeah,” she shouted back. “I’ll be down in a second.” She squeezed Caleb’s shoulder as she passed.
Down in the basement it looked like a mashup between an estate sale and a scene from a mob movie. A bare light bulb hung from the ceiling. Witches milled around looking through the piles of stuff. Sarah, the young witch who worked in the council office was working her way through a box of books.
Emily was tied to an old wooden chair with whatever the witches had found, which included a plaid bathrobe belt, a few bungee cords, and a string of Christmas tree lights. In the jumbled mess, someone had found an aluminum clip-on task light and Natalie was shining it into Emily’s face.
“Natalie, stop doing that,” Meaghan said.
“I’m gonna break her,” Natalie said.
“No, you’re going to blind her along with me.” Meaghan found an old desk chair, rolled it in front of Emily, and sat down. “You’re making my head hurt with that thing. And it already hurts from all the damn tequila I drank last night and getting punched by that wizard. What’s next? Beating her with rubber hoses?”
Sarah looked up from her books. “I found a box full of old garden hoses under the picnic table. Should I pull them out?”
Meaghan rubbed her temples. “No. Nobody’s getting out any hoses. How about we start with talking?” She stretched her neck to the left and felt a satisfying pop. “Oh, that’s better. So, Emily, what the hell? Why did you do this to Jamie?”
Emily narrowed her eyes and began muttering, trying to cast a spell. Natalie groaned and smacked the back of Emily’s head. “Give it up, already. We cast dampening spells and Meaghan’s impervious. Remember?” Natalie rolled her eyes. “She’s like this at work too. She gets a little frigging power and makes everybody miserable. She never knows when to stop.”
“When I get out of here, you’ll all pay,” Emily snarled. “And Sarah? You’re fired.”
“No, she’s not,” Meaghan said. “You know how hard it is to fire non-appointed staff. The civil service review board will just overturn it. What are your grounds? ‘Sarah helped thwart my evil plan’?” She leaned back in the chair. “And saying how you’ll come after us later doesn’t exactly provide me with strong incentive to make sure you live through this.”
Emily swallowed hard but didn’t say anything. Natalie stared at Meaghan, her mouth open.
“How do you like those ugly politics?” Meaghan asked. “Do I have your attention now? Why did you help them take Jamie?”
“He’s one of them,” Emily said. “Those filthy insect men.” She shuddered. “They’re all the same. He can pretend he’s human, but he’s not.”
“You hate him because he’s Fahrayan? Or because he’s not human?” Meaghan asked, genuinely confused. She’d expected some kind of personal grudge, not bigotry.
“He’s a monster,” Emily said. “Nobody sees it but me.”
Natalie stepped forward and slapped her.
Meaghan raised her hand. “Natalie, not now.”
“Why not? You heard her,” Natalie said, her voice shaking with anger. “The bitch.”
Meaghan stared Natalie down. “Plenty of time for that later. Right now I need information. If she won’t talk, I’ll let you have her.”
Emily smirked at Natalie.
Meaghan reached forward and slapped Emily herself. “Don’t for a minute think I’m protecting you,” Meaghan said, with icy calm. “I’ll throw you to whatever wolves I can find if it suits my purpose. Right now, the only monster I see is you. What’s your problem with Jamie? Specifically?”
“He hurt me. He took my family away,” Emily said. Meaghan’s cold threats seemed to frighten her more than Natalie’s theatrics. She squirmed in her chair, her eyes now glistening with tears.
“Jamie? How did he hurt you?”
“He’s one of them. They’re wrong. Everything about them. They look like fairies, but they’re killers. They made my family hate me.” Emily began breathing heavily, her voice rising in tone and volume. “I told everybody I didn’t do it. I didn’t hurt him. But they blamed me and they thought I was crazy.”
An emotional dam seemed to break inside Emily. “They gave me back,” she cried. “I finally had a family and they gave me back.” She dissolved into shaking sobs. “Because of them. What they did. And he’ll start it again unless I stop him.”
Meaghan gave Natalie a questioning look as Emily wept. Natalie, eyes wide, shook her head and shrugged.
“Emily,” Meaghan said, her voice gentle now. “Who got hurt? Can you tell me?”
With a sob, Emily said, “My little brother. They had him right after they adopted me. I was eight and he was three.”
“They being your mom and dad?”
Emily nodded.
The mood in the room had shifted. The anger was gone, replaced by horror and pity. This was a side of Emily no one had ever suspected.
“Emily,” Meaghan said. “Take a minute and breathe. Somebody grab some tissues and make a cup of tea.”
Sarah clattered up the stairs, her face pale and strained. This was not the satisfying comeuppance everyone anticipated.
The basement was silent except for the sound of Emily’s bubbling sobs.
We don’t have time for this, Meaghan thought. Jamie was getting farther away by the moment. She kept seeing that defeated look on his face.
“Emily,” Meaghan continued, not waiting for the tissues and tea, “you made a deal with those wizards, didn’t you. More power for giving them access to Jamie. Is that right?”
Emily looked up. Even as she wept, she tried to sneer at Meaghan. “Bug Boy has to go answer for his crimes now,” she sniffled. “For what he did to me.”
“Which is what? Who hurt your brother?”
“They did. The Fahrayans,” she spat. “In the forest. The car broke down. We were on the side of the road. Toby saw them flying, like fairies, and he ran into the trees. I went after him and when I found him they were swarming all over him and they were slashing at him with their little knives and spears. I threw rocks at them and screamed and they flew away. Then Daddy came and Toby was all bloody and I was still holding a rock.” She paused to catch her breath, wild eyed and staring at some internal movie playing in her head. “And they blamed me. I told them what I saw and they took me to the hospital and I never saw them again. Any of them. Ever again.”
Oh, God, Meaghan thought. Another traumatized child? What is it with this town?
“Emily,” Meaghan said. “Think. Jamie wasn’t even born when that happened. The Fahrayans hurt him too. They killed his mother
right in front of him. He had nothing to do with it. Beyond coming from the same place.”
Emily shook her head. “That’s not true. The wizards told me the real story. How it was Jamie’s grandfather who ordered the attack on my brother and how they’re plotting to go back and start it all again. His father, the drunk, he can’t go back because they took his wings, so Jamie would take over unless we could stop him. Unless we could prove he broke the treaty and send him back to face justice for what they all did.” She stared up at Meaghan, her face tear stained but defiant. “But he was too careful. So they asked me to take his amulet and force him to change so they finally had the grounds to go after him.”
Meaghan heard a heavy tread at the top of the stairs and looked up. John walked slowly down the stairs, staring at Emily with narrowed eyes.
“Is this her? The one who helped them take my son?”
“Yes,” Meaghan said. “She was telling us why.”
“I hear some of it. They lied to you, witch. They take my son to kill him so he won’t take power from my brother. My father punished them, the ones who hurt you. He staked their wings to the ground and cut their throats in front of us all.”
John walked slowly towards Emily.
She drew back and hissed at him. “They took my family away.”
John nodded. “They took my family too. They killed my wife, they hurt my son, they hurt me. And now you hurt my son and his family. What do you think I should do to you?” He stared down at her and Emily glared back.
Meaghan shivered. Even in his degraded state, John was imposing.
Emily was the first to look away. Meaghan saw a small grim smile flit across John’s mouth and then it was gone.
“I think I leave you to Patrice,” John said. “You took her man and scared her babies after she let you in her home. If this were Fahraya, she would cut your throat and hang your head from her door. I think Patrice will do something worse to you if Jamie dies.” The grim smile returned. “That girl is more tough even than my wife. And she loves my boy. You should fear her more than the witches.”