by Cat Adams
Jason shook his head as the boys eagerly followed the pair to the procession and were handed robes which materialized from thin air. “And so three more join their ranks. You see how easy that was? The equivalent of a street corner half-pence show and they’re suddenly true believers. But the Sacred Tree has abandoned us, so people scrabble for something … anything to provide hope that we’re not yet another endangered species about to end our time on this planet.”
Tal furrowed his brow, thinking. “But where is the magic coming from?”
The other man shook his head. “Dunno, mate. That’s the question, isn’t it? If I didn’t worry I’d be bargaining with the devil, I’d consider joining up me own self. They’re certainly a happy lot.”
“So, where do we go next?” The procession had started on their way again, with two new voices joining in on the chanting.
“Next we go visit my cousin Chauncy.” He reached into the pocket of his cloak and then got a panicked expression, suddenly patting his hands up and down his body.
“Lose something?”
“Damn it! I must have left the box in my other jacket. We’ve got to go back to the shop. Bleedin’ hell.” He started walking that way, not stopping to see whether Tal was going to follow. He lifted the sweater from his wrist to check his watch and then started muttering under his breath angrily.
“Anything I need to know?” Keeping the suspicion from his voice wasn’t easy, but this was no time to be so trusting of anyone that he wound up the subject of an O.P.A. trap. “What’s in the box?”
Jason must still have caught some note of suspicion because he abruptly laughed. “It’s not like that, Tal. I haven’t turned you over. But Chauncy’s getting ready to take the next gate out of here and he’s the one who knows where most of the illegal gates are here. After all, I am an agent. You’d be surprised how many of my old lads stopped talking to me after I got my glove. The box has topsider chocolate in it. He’s got a right fat sweet tooth on him, that bloke. And if I forget the chocolate—” He tipped his head and raised his brows.
Tal completed the thought. “No chocolate … no information.”
The other man nodded. They were now in nearly a sprint, boots pounding on the cobbled sidewalks and echoing down the silent streets. “Right-o. I gotta tell ya, though—I feel like a blinkin’ idiot showing up at his door with a box of sweets every few weeks. Like I’m courting me own cousin.”
Tal’s laugh was abruptly cut off when the sounds of a scuffle came from around the final corner. Three men were surrounding a woman menacingly, just outside the butcher shop about three blocks down. It was still too far to see much other than movements, but the fighting style of the woman reminded him very much of his sister. One man lunged for her but she sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and did something to it that made him drop to the ground screaming. It wasn’t a move Tal recognized, but it was certainly effective. He rolled around, clutching at his hand as the other two moved in.
They’d already increased their speed, in an unspoken agreement to assist the woman, but when Tal heard Mila’s voice echoing down the street, he put on an extra burst that left Jason struggling to catch up.
“You really don’t want to do this,” Mila said as she circled opposite the men.
“Oh, but you’re wrong, sweetling. You and us … we’re gonna have a party. And you’re gonna pay for hurtin’ Ralphie.” He lunged forward and grabbed her arm. But instead of screaming, she lashed out … delivering a vicious kick to the side of the man’s knee. It sent him to the ground, but he held on, taking her down with him.
Without a second thought, Tal raised the opal focus and shouted, “Karalt!” A blast of liquid fire caught the man in the chest, ripping his hand from her arm. “O.P.A.! Remain where you are.” Mila turned in shock just as the third man decided he had better places to be and took off running down the street. Ralphie had likewise gone, when she had delivered the kick—rightly figuring she was a bit too much of a fighter for his taste.
Normally, he’d run after or cast a net of fire to contain them, but he really didn’t want them to stay. He didn’t have a place to put them.
“Tal!” Mila’s face brightened and she rushed forward the last few steps, throwing her arms around his neck as he slowed to a stop. It surprised him, but he couldn’t deny it was what he’d hoped she’d do. Both of their hearts were pounding from exertion and a fine trembling was running through her body that spoke of too much adrenaline in her system. He let himself take a few moments to just hold her until they were both calmer. The scent of her hair, the heat as their magic met and mingled—they overwhelmed his senses. It’s only been a day. It shouldn’t feel like this. But even as he thought it, he felt his arms tightening around her until she let out a sigh.
It wasn’t until Jason cleared his throat uncomfortably that he realized he’d lost track of time with her in his arms. He pulled back and cupped her chin in his palm. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, moving his hand. “Fine … now. I was okay with the first two, but I was running out of steam. They generally don’t throw three attackers against you in defense class. I should have conserved my energy a little more at the start. I was afraid I was going to have to start injuring them.”
He let out a little frustrated breath. “You need to always be willing to hurt an attacker. You can’t rely on them running off.”
Her face took on a similar frustration. “No duh. But when you break skin, people get mean in return. It escalates really fast, and then they aren’t willing to run away. Three against one is still really sucky odds.”
He couldn’t deny the logic, and was about to comment when Jason again reminded them of his presence. But this time his voice came from a different direction and he sounded slightly out of breath. “Tick-tock, mate. Thought you’d be done fussing with the bird by now. Got the chocolate. Let’s go.”
Mila raised her brows. “The bird?”
The dark man dipped his head in apology and gave a small bow. Tal couldn’t decide whether or not he was being sarcastic. “The young lady, then. No offense meant.”
“This is Mila, Jason. Mila Penkin. She’s the person I was supposed to meet later.” What he couldn’t figure out was how she’d come to be here. And Jason apparently thought the same thing.
“She’s a topsider?” He stared at her incredulously. “How did you get here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Long story.” Then she looked at him with excitement and touched his cloak while she pulled a paper from her pocket. “Tal, you’ll never believe what I found out about Vegre in the vault. It changes everything, and I might know where the portal is.”
“Vegre?” Jason’s face dropped into serious lines, and his arms crossed over his chest. “Vegre Peircevil? The dark mage in Rohm Prison? What does he have to do with anything?”
Mila looked at Jason then, apparently realizing she’d spoken out of place. She shut her mouth, but the tall man wasn’t going to sit still for her silence for long. Tal sighed and backed away from Mila, then waved his hands quickly to settle everyone down. He’d hoped not to explain everything to Jason, since the lack of information might be all that was keeping his friend safe. “Okay, okay. We all need to calm down. We’ll do this in order. Jason, is there anywhere nearby we can sit down and have some privacy? I’d hoped not to involve you in this any deeper, but—”
“But … I can assure you we won’t be taking another step toward my favorite cousin until you do.” Jason crossed his arms over his chest and stared for a moment. Then he turned and crooked his finger. “C’mon then. We can talk in my folks’ flat above the shop.” He flipped his arm again to reveal his black leather watch. “But try to make it fast. I can’t afford to lose my job up there.”
As soon as his back was turned, Mila shoved the paper in her hand toward Tal. He opened it as they walked, but while he understood what he was seeing on the document, he couldn’t quite grasp the significance. He looked at her questioningly before passing it back
.
She motioned with her thumb toward Jason and spoke out of the side of her mouth as they slowly followed him back to the shop. “Can we trust him?”
It nearly made him laugh, because he had no doubt Jason would ask the same about her. Of course, that left him considering whether either of them could be trusted. He’d been roommates with the Fomorian in the guild academy—yet never thought he was capable, either magically or morally, of crafting an illegal gate. And he’d known Mila for only a day. Or had he known her all his life? I can’t tell up from down, nor right from wrong lately. “Yes, I think so.”
At least, I hope so.
Mila took another sip of juice while she decided how to respond, marveling at the taste and smell of the drink. It seemed to contain every fruit in the world in tiny sealed bits that she could individually identify.
What do I say to them? She wasn’t certain Tal would want his friend to know about the connection they had. She was also reminded of the line from a Harry Potter movie about even in the magicking world, hearing voices wasn’t a good thing. “Let’s just say I found the gate the same way you survived the first encounter with Vegre.”
Jason simply looked confused, but Tal … he looked abruptly shaken and somewhat panicked, his face growing ashen in the pale amber light from the stone. “You were able to reach me?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t communicate. I could only see and hear. But yeah.” There really wasn’t any way to convey the feeling of helplessness and frustration she’d had. “I tried to talk to you when you were near the fire door, but it was like you couldn’t hear me. But I was able to recognize the painting on the wall near the gate once I got to the library.”
“What in bleedin’ hell are you two talking about?” Jason pointed at her. “Are you saying you eavesdropped on our conversation in the library? How? I shielded that room from listeners. What did you use to break through me best spell?”
His Irish accent was increasing the more agitated he got. “How do you have an Irish accent anyway? I thought black Irish just meant dark hair and eyes.”
He shook a finger in front of his face. “Oh, no. You won’t be shakin’ me teeth from this bone with fluff and nonsense questions, lass. What spell did you use?”
“It wasn’t a spell.” Tal’s voice was quiet, nearly a whisper. He was staring at the opal’s swirling colors, but then looked up and blue eyes met the other man’s brown ones. “Mila is the Tree spirit, Jason. She’s the voice in my head. She saw the library through my head.”
Apparently, Jason understood what Tal was saying, but scoffed after a moment of thought. “Bollocks, mate. You’ve heard the Tree’s spirit in your head since you were a boy. That was in the fourteenth century. This lass is a guildercent. She can’t be more than twenty-five or thirty. Who was speakin’ to you before her? Answer me that.”
The fourteenth century?! She tried not to gape as she stared at him again, trying to place Tal in a morning coat and top hat, or in serf clothing. But even a zoot suit was too much for her brain to handle, so she tried to focus instead on the conversation.
Tiny movements of his head and hands spoke his confusion. “I can’t, Jason. I only know that she is the voice in my head—the voice that has always been from the Tree. She is where I drew power from to free me from Vegre’s death curse.”
Jason thought about that for a moment and then pursed his lips, as though accepting it. He hopped down from the counter and grabbed his cloak from an iron hook on the wall. “Well then, let’s go and reunite the spirit with her vessel, shall we? I’m afraid I’ll have to see this to believe it.”
Tal looked at him askance. “We don’t have time to go visit Tree Square. We need to find the gate Vegre used to reach Mila’s house and close it. To do that, we need to visit—”
Jason let out a bitter laugh. “Me cousin, Chauncy? Bleedin’ hell, Tal. You are so freakin’ trusting. I don’t have a cousin with that name. Think on it, mate. Chauncy? What sort of name is that for a self-respecting Fomorian?” He stared at Mila as he fastened a wooden dowel through a loop of cloth at the neck of the cloak. “Ireland via Africa, lass. Me mum’s clan were fierce warriors—dirtdogs with a taste for steel and a love of gold. They didn’t merely arrive in Ireland, they conquered and claimed part of it. I might have inherited me da’s magic, but the love of the finer life? That was me mum’s legacy.”
She looked around the room, trying to compare his words with the furnishings. The apartment was nothing special. It was small and tidy, but there was nothing to give her the impression of exceeding wealth. He laughed, apparently understanding what she was mentally doing.
“Not this place, Mila girl. This is just here to keep up appearances for the customers. There’s another gate just outside that opens to where Mum and Da really lived—out in the third ring where there was plenty of splendor and a gate to keep out the curious. I did well by ’em, as a son should. In fact, I crafted all the gates in Vril, Tal. Me and me alone. There’s no mysterious cousin. I crafted them for the highest bidder … and there were plenty of bidders when the evacuations started.”
Tal looked floored and Mila started to wonder why he was suddenly revealing this. Apparently, Tal was thinking the same thing. He flicked his fingers and the opal dulled and then he picked it up, all the while watching Jason with suddenly suspicious eyes. “Why tell us this now? What’s changed in the last five minutes that you’re suddenly willing to risk me turning you in?”
Jason laughed again, this time a bright and happy sound that didn’t match his earlier words. “You really don’t see it, do you? Can’t even imagine the profit potential in the lass?” He reached forward and tapped her on the head. “Demeter’s Children wouldn’t have anything on the true spirit of the Tree. The kings would pay anything to learn what’s wrong with the Trees, and even more to save ’em.”
She brushed off his finger like she would a biting insect, suddenly glad she hadn’t revealed the information from the scroll to him. “I never said I was the Tree spirit, did I? I haven’t a clue why I can connect with Tal’s mind, but I wouldn’t recognize a Tree of Life if I ran bodily into one.”
“Ah, but that’s exactly what I was planning to do, lass. Run you bodily into one.” He grinned darkly, but then turned his head at Tal’s single word.
“No.”
Jason tipped his head, still amused. “You haven’t much choice, lad. It’s my price to show you the gates.”
“No.” The word was said with more force and Tal stood in a rush, his eyes flashing.
Jason likewise steadied his stance, keeping the glove he wore turned stone side up. The narrow gem slab, which could either be a ruby or garnet, glittered menacingly from within. “Think about it, old friend. Think carefully. One word in my mind to flash Commander Sommersby about your location is all it would take. I’ve no love for the man or how he’s corrupted the department at the kings’s behest, but I want life back to the way it was … at any cost. The overworld is no place for me, lad, and I don’t believe an Agathia ruled by Vegre Peircevil would be to me taste.” He opened his arms wide, but with a calculating look. “Now, I’m more than willing to keep your confidence, turn me head to your little journey, and even share me own small secrets. All I ask in return is for your lady friend to tell me what’s wrong with the Trees and how to fix them … if she can. She doesn’t even need to stick around to be later identified. I’ll take it from there. And really, Tal—don’t you want the Trees fixed, too? Don’t you want the world back to the way it used to be?” He pointed to the window, where dark and false light met. “Look at that. Is that what you want for our people? So what if I profit, or you profit? The guilds would be safe, the land free, and Vegre returned to prison.”
Smooth bastard that he was, she couldn’t find any way to disagree with the underlying truth. The message wasn’t any different than Viktor’s speech—only the motivation was different.
She spoke at the same moment as Tal, her “Fine,” tearing his “Abs
olutely not!” into bitter, angry shreds.
His face was horrified, indignant. “Mila, no. You can’t give in to this, this … blackmail.”
She sighed. “Tal, I work in corporate law. A lot of our clients live their lives in the gray area—between the letter of the law and the squishy morals of the spirit of the law. If I refused to work with everyone who wasn’t lily-white the firm wouldn’t have many clients.” He started to interrupt, but she cut him off with a raised hand. “This is my decision, not yours. I came here to see the Trees. I could have waited in the library for you to get back, but I promised Viktor I would try to save your people. I don’t know if I can, but I said I’d try. If Jason’s willing to help us, great. So far as I can tell, he’s a gray area sort of guy, versus the lock-em-up-and-throw-away-the-key sort like Vegre.”
Jason gave her an odd look, as though he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted. Frankly, she wasn’t sure herself. “Thank you, lass … I think.”
She pointed a finger at him and raised her brows. “But I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, so don’t expect me to take anything you tell me at face value. And, I’ll expect you to help us find a way to clear Tal’s name.”
“I don’t need his help.” Tal was almost too furious to speak, and each syllable was delivered to inflict the maximum insult.
She blew out an annoyed breath at him. “Oh, would you get over it, Tal? Look, Jason was willing to help you before he even knew about me. Yeah, he might have been planning to rob or kill you at some point, but I’m betting not. Great, fine. You discovered he’s not all sunshine and light. But he’s not all bad, either.”
Jason’s voice was quiet when he spoke, his words serious and seemingly heartfelt. “She’s right, mate. I’d planned to help you because I owe you. Maybe all those words you spouted about honor and charity didn’t sink in at the academy, but a lot of them did. I could easily have been in a cell beside Vegre if given me own head.”