I’d taken Abrams’s confession for granted. It hadn’t occurred to me that he’d know all of Spector’s secrets and in-jokes. But it was reflex that had betrayed him to us, not his conversation. And the tricks we’d used on the beach wouldn’t work now—he’d be braced to speak more civilly to the women, react with cooler blood in their presence, hold himself still if we invoked the things he found sacred. “He admitted to us that he was an imposter.”
“I might do the same if you held a gun on me. You’re wasting our time—and you, Ron, maybe you’ve learned something now about trusting your irregulars?”
“I still think…” he said. His pupils were wide with reluctant disappointment; in that moment I might have doubted what I’d seen.
“Vi s ‘deyn eydish?” asked Deedee abruptly.
“Nisht shlekht. Vi s dayner?” One corner of his mouth quirked in pleasure at passing the test, where Spector’s colleagues couldn’t see.
“Your questions are useless,” S’vlk told Barlow. “The Outer Ones steal thoughts as easily as people, and hand them to their favorites as gifts.”
“Then how did you know?” asked Peters, exasperation overcoming fatigue. “Mary, you seeing anything we don’t?”
“I don’t know him as well,” she said. She looked at the rest of us. “I’m sorry. I trust George’s judgment.”
My eyes felt caked with grit. I was exhausted, furious, and every course of action seemed too costly. I knew what I should do: with so much at stake it was time to explain plainly what difference we’d seen between Spector and Abrams. But S’vlk’s words had put a horror in me. The Outer Ones had left Spector no privacy, no thought or memory that wasn’t shared. How could I compound that by exposing his most precious secret to colleagues who would hate him for it? I saw the fear in Charlie’s eyes too, and knew I couldn’t do it.
“I can see it was stupid to come here,” I said. “We’ll leave now.”
“And let an imposter infiltrate your government?” asked Nnnnnn-gt-vvv.
Barlow and Peters moved instantly to stand between them. “We know what you are,” said Peters. “We’re not letting you near him.”
“Let it go,” I said tiredly. “We’ve lost this one.”
I half-hoped Nnnnnn-gt-vvv would ignore me and pull Abrams into the borderland, though Barlow would probably grab as many of us as he could in retaliation. But the Outer One simply spread its wings, drawing claws in tight. “Have it your way. My mates are waiting for me.”
It left, alone. I considered the elders, considered the FBI agents, and hoped that at this time of night no one outside the room would look at us too carefully.
“Out,” said Barlow.
In the hall, Audrey burst into tears. “Goddamn hell! I’m sorry…”
“Don’t apologize,” said Charlie. “We’re all right there with you.”
Deedee nodded. “It’s awfully late to be ladylike.”
“I’d better, though.” She wiped angrily at her eyes. “I think we’re going to have to go down and get a room. If someone finds us in the hall like this, I don’t know what’s going to happen.” The elders had pulled their cloaks over their faces, but the overhead lights were unforgiving. A luxury hotel had little place for the exotic mysteries of the streets. I couldn’t be angry at Nnnnnn-gt-vvv, though. It had delayed rescuing its faction-mates to bring us here. Their lives depended on what it had accomplished with Glabri, and there was only so long it could wait.
Deedee looked the rest of us over with cold calculation. “Charlie, you’re the most respectable gentleman we’ve got right now. Caleb, give the man enough to cover an absurdly expensive hotel room. I hope we’ve got the cash.”
Caleb grimaced, but dug out a wad of bills.
“I’ve got a little walking money if that’d help,” said Clara.
“Don’t worry,” said Deedee. “We can swing it. He’s being frugal, but I think we’re past that.”
We huddled in the hall while our ostensible upper-class white couple (mascara streaked, shoes filthy with sand and subway grime) went to procure a private space. We’d have no recourse if a maid came along; our only hope was that it was far too late, or early, for housekeeping. I settled against the wall, head against my knees, eyes heavy.
I leaped awake at the sound of voices, on my feet and ready to fight before I realized that it was Charlie and Audrey returning. My relief nearly overcame the surge of terrified wakefulness.
“It’s even on this floor,” said Charlie, and Audrey smiled pride over this small but vital triumph.
I didn’t fully relax until everyone had crowded into the room and I’d heard the deadbolt clank solidly closed. I examined our surroundings: no suite like Barlow’s, but more room for our elbows than the closet where we’d stayed after leaving the mine. Two beds beckoned, but I imagined Spector lost in the dark beyond the sun’s reach, and Neko eagerly preparing to lie down on one of those altars, and decided sleep could wait.
It wasn’t only Spector’s and Neko’s fates that gave me urgency. “Mr. Abrams will try to report to Spector’s masters as quickly as possible. He knows we know what he is, and he’ll try to spread the Outer Ones’—the interventionists’—influence before we can counter it. Spector needs his body back, and we need the passivists back in the mine before Abrams brings more feds into their trap. Only we don’t have any passivists with us, and don’t know when we’ll be able to reach them.”
“We’re here,” said Clara. She patted Shelean’s pendant.
“She’s here,” said Shelean. “I’m in the mine, which would be even better if I weren’t shuffled off in a corner. But we’ve as much right to the place as an Outer One does—if we can make it stick. Once we do that, we can call Nnnnnn-gt-vvv’s shiny new mine and let it know we’ve done its dirty work.”
“Do you know how to change the wards?” I asked.
“If someone gets me in, I think so,” said Clara. “I’ve been looking over their shoulders for decades.”
“I helped set the things up,” said Shelean. “As long as I look over your shoulder, I can make sure you do it right.”
S’vlk pulled back her hood. She sat heavily on one of the beds and dug talons into the quilt. “Aphra Yukhl, are you suggesting a frontal attack?”
The mattress looked blissful, but I refused to make any concession to my fatigue. I tugged at my dress, as if straightening it could restore my body as well. Was I suggesting an attack? “I don’t see any alternative.”
Grandfather rumbled amusement. “Even in disgrace, I have people who could help. But without Nnnnnn-gt-vvv we have no way to bring them to the mine.”
The Outer Ones’ lair spilled across dimensional barriers. There were many potential directions to get in—all guarded and warded. But only through our native sliver of reality could we safely travel. Especially me.
My restless hands found a familiar, and disturbing, lump in my pocket. I withdrew the finger bone, cradled it in my palm. “We have other options for troops. If we can persuade them to aid us.”
“I, too, have a terrible idea,” said Shelean.
“How terrible, precisely, do you have in mind?” asked Audrey. Her voice was light, but her eyes were hard.
“Depending on what you do with it, anything from perfectly reasonable to excitingly catastrophic. If you play with a couple of safety settings, the altar room can recall minds almost instantly into their bodies.”
“Then we can rescue R—Mr. Spector,” said Charlie. My chest eased a little.
“It’s painful,” warned Shelean. “And dangerous. If he’s lucky, he’ll just get his mind scraped up, like climbing naked over sharp rocks. It’s meant for real emergency evacuations. But I was thinking that calling more people back, especially the new ones who don’t all want to be there, would make a great distraction.”
“And we could rescue them too,” said Deedee. “So much the better.”
“What about Freddy?” asked Frances. She seemed calmer than the rest of us, awake
and determined.
“We’ll get him if we can,” Caleb said. “We can’t force him. Or Neko.” That last so quiet I couldn’t swear that anyone else heard.
“Of course you can,” said Grandfather. “The idea that children should be allowed to make any mistake they fancy, no matter—”
I held up my hand. “We’ll do what we can.” I swallowed, and said reluctantly, “I will prioritize rescuing those who want it over those who don’t.”
“And what counts as ‘excitingly catastrophic’?” asked Audrey.
“My body’s there too. If you need a bigger distraction, or someone to walk through a wall—I can hold on to my sanity for a few minutes, if I need to. There are tricks the K’n-yan know that no one else does.” There was a shudder in her voice, and I remembered stories of Mad Ones warping flesh in fits of pique, of their cruel art transforming men into animals and air into poison.
“Let’s try and avoid that,” said Audrey.
“Believe me, no one wants to avoid my embodiment more than I do.”
Grandfather stretched and bared his teeth. “That’s a reasonable range of tactics,” he said. “I suggest we plan strategy.”
* * *
After intense discussion, we reluctantly concluded that the best way into the mine was to offer the interventionists what they wanted. But Grandfather would not countenance Caleb risking himself along with me.
“This isn’t just about men of the air,” said Caleb, his voice rising. “This is a battle for Innsmouth. We need Freddy, we need a safe place to spawn—you would never have let anyone hold you back from fighting to defend our people! You’d never have sent your sisters into battle alone.”
“If you both sacrifice yourselves to save the spawning grounds, we lose more than Innsmouth. Aphra has already thrown herself too far into this idiocy to avoid risk. You and your lover will wait here, safe.”
Deedee bridled. “Ron Spector is my colleague, and Neko’s my friend. I respect you, but I don’t owe you obedience.”
Grandfather bared teeth, humor stretched wire-tight. “True. You could leave Caleb here alone to prove the point. Do you think your courage in doubt, in this company?”
“I’m not trying to prove anything to you. I’ve got a duty.”
“Deedee, he’s right,” I said. I didn’t like it; I wanted her keen eyes and chameleon speech beside me. “If you got hurt going along with us, I’d never forgive myself. Caleb would never forgive me.”
“That would be stupid of him. Never’s a long time.”
“Deedee?” Caleb’s anger had dropped away. His eyes begged. He took her hand. “Just because I have to breed with others doesn’t mean you’re replaceable. Please stay?”
She gripped his hand, sighed, and said in R’lyehn, “Ich d’luthlu, ri ich ngevh. Ph’chlit nge y-ngavn.” You’re an idiot, but you’re mine. I’ll stay.
Clara couldn’t come in the front way either, too recognizable as Nnnnnn-gt-vvv’s partisan. “Like I said, Miss Marsh needs companions who’ll show off how many groups she’s made connections with. To the Outer Ones, it’s how you prove strength. Like a human strutting around flexing muscles. Extra people will just look like you’re trying too hard. It’ll look suspicious—and he’s already gonna be inclined that way.”
“I won’t take more people than I need,” I said. I felt the abyss of action opening before me. It was time to talk to Glabri, and see how much risk he’d countenance to rid himself of his Outer One neighbors.
CHAPTER 24
“Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt wants to see me.”
The guards at the mine’s entrance were more obviously guards, though still miscellaneously dressed. I had brought both Audrey and Charlie—my excuse that they came from different communities even if they were both part of my confluence—along with Frances. All three branches of humanity, symbolically at least, stood at my back. I’d left Trumbull at the hotel, reluctantly, fearing she’d be interpreted as a representative of the Yith. Clara swore my little entourage was as good a show of strength, by Outer One standards, as the trident-bearing warriors who once accompanied my grandfather.
We waited a long time while messages were carried beneath the earth and answers returned to the crumbling stoop. At last some of the guard—the bearded negro man who’d been there on our first visit, and three more people new to me—led us below. I was exquisitely aware of the balances between us: we had them outnumbered, but we walked through their place of power. They moved among uncounted allies; I had only who I’d brought with me. For now. I moved carefully, afraid to reveal the protective talisman Mary had given me when she thought she could trust us—or worse, the token of Glabri’s dubious alliance. Both lay hidden beneath the collar of my dress.
I was necessary bait, since we needed Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt’s people to take us in, but I was also a vulnerability. I hadn’t Audrey’s or Deedee’s skill in deception. I could only mask anger and fear with cold dignity; my lies were brittle. I only need to fool them for a few minutes. And I can let them see my fear.
We passed through the obfuscatory rubble of the mine’s upper corridors, down rickety stairs unworthy of what lay below. The crumbling plaster walls, unspeakably mundane, made me shudder at how pervasive this kind of scenery was. Like the hills under which they normally dwelt, New York’s untenanted buildings provided endless crannies where these creatures might hide.
Unfair, to find that disturbing. In the twenties frightened policemen, soldiers, mothers, neighbors, had shuddered to think that Aeonists might whisper our gods’ names anywhere or everywhere. The fault wasn’t in the Outer Ones’ species; I had come to know Nnnnnn-gt-vvv as well-meaning and thoughtful, its fits of temper and flightiness no worse than many humans. Yet I still needed to brace myself to look at it.
This time, less entranced by my newly discovered cousin, I felt the claustrophobic depth of our descent. Perhaps Shelean found the underhill homey. I could only compare it to my imagined ocean, where the swift pull of arms through water and the kick of strong legs would carry me down amid Y’ha-nthlei’s cool hearths, or bring me up through the surface into starlight. For the Outer Ones, of course, this place was precisely that: material barriers wouldn’t stand between them and their native element.
An Outer One was waiting for us. And with it—Neko. She threw herself into my arms. I staggered to keep my balance, returning the embrace reflexively even as my mind churned with relief and suspicion. The way she shifted from toe to toe, was that her ordinary enthusiasm? Were her flushed cheeks and wide pupils what I would expect from my wayward little sister? I shuddered with anger at the mere thought that they might have made mock of her face, and hoped she took it for some more appropriate emotion.
“Oh, Aphra,” she said. Her voice sounded like her voice, but Abrams had sounded like Spector. He’d said the interventionists had no reason to make a doppel of her, but he’d also said they wanted a hold over me. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. I knew you’d argue if I asked, but it seemed like the best chance of helping you.”
With the Outer One watching, I couldn’t afford an honest conversation, but I couldn’t bring myself to any carefully considered response. “You wanted more of their visions. And to see the real thing, even if it meant leaving yourself behind.”
She pulled away. “I’m right here. And yes, I’d like to see other worlds—but I wouldn’t have run away to satisfy myself. Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt says they can help you, if you’ll let them.” Her voice dropped. “But they’ve got problems here, too. And they want our help. Some of their people want to push humans into another war.”
It would make sense, if they’d told the humans here that the passivists were trying to start a conflict—a neat contrast with the interventionists’ desire to prevent one. Part of my mind leaned into the story, into the comfortable lie that Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt’s benevolent intent would lead naturally to benevolent effect. A more nuanced, wounded part of me wondered if it might have been Nnnnnn-gt-vvv who lied to us. But then there had be
en Abrams.
“That’s why we came,” I said, to the Outer One as much as to Neko. “We’re here to help.”
“I’m glad. I’ve missed you.”
She led me to the Outer One and, remembering its instruction, I asked, “Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt?”
“Yes. I’m glad you came.”
“I’m not, but you’ve left me no choice.” A sliver of truth, enough to explain the bitterness in my words. It was easy to try and hide it, easier to fail. Charlie and Audrey stayed close, their warmth and postures bespeaking confidence that I drew in like oxygen. It wove through the confluence in steady breath and tense muscles. I tried to ignore the connection’s fragility.
“What do you mean?” asked Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt.
“You took our friend. Nnnnnn-gt-vvv contacted me, but it has no plan to get him back. It doesn’t like your ideas about how to handle humanity’s peril, but doesn’t have an alternative. I’m not sure I like your idea, but I know you want my help and I’d like to have some say in my people’s future. I just need to see Spector, to be sure he’s all right.” The lie fell like rocks across my tongue. I hoped Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt would only hear fear for a comrade in my stumbling speech.
“Whatever Nnnnnn-gt-vvv’s people told you, your friend Ron decided to travel with us willingly.” Limbs shifted. “You met Nick.”
“Audrey saw through him.” Another sliver of truth, that they’d hear soon enough from Abrams himself: “Barlow, Peters, and Mary Harris didn’t. They still think they’re talking with Mr. Spector.”
Kvv-vzht-mmmm-vvt lowered its head to examine Audrey, tendrils weaving. “You’re perceptive. More gifts from Shelean?”
She shrugged. “I pay attention. Some humans do. How is she, by the way?”
“With Miss Marsh’s cousin. She appreciates what we’re doing—she knows what a species can do to itself, left alone. Would you like to speak with them?”
“Mr. Spector first,” I said.
Around us, the instruments still glowed purple, and Outer Ones and humans still moved quietly around them. I tried to sense some change in the tenor of the room, some hint of tension, but felt nothing. If it was there, perhaps Audrey could see. If I couldn’t sense their distress, I hoped they would miss mine for these few crucial minutes.
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