“Me neither. It felt so good, though. And it was easy.”
“Still, we need to be careful.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. We’re in this together, aren’t we?”
Melanie laughed. “Who are you trying to fool? If things go wrong, you’ll throw me to the wolves without a second thought.”
“Mmm. At one time, maybe. Not anymore.”
“Really? What changed?” From the tone of her voice, it was obvious that she didn’t believe a word he was saying. In fairness, he’d given her good reason to be that way.
He shifted so that he was lying next to her, and could look directly into her eyes.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Ever since you said…. well, what you said. Before Malachi called for us. And, well, I do, too.”
She searched his eyes for a moment, then kissed him lightly and rose from the bed. “I still don’t believe you.”
“What can I do to prove it?”
“Stop being a jerk, for one. Respect me as an equal. That would be nice.”
Equal was tough. Thaddeus really did love her, as far as he felt he was able to anyway. Still, she wasn’t from a Great House like he was. There were certain facts of life that just were.
She was staring at him, a bemused, sarcastic twist to her mouth.
“Yeah.” He sat up. “I admit, I have a problem with the whole difference in House status thing.” He held up his hand to forestall her objection. “But here’s the thing that I’m coming around to. I’m not House Whispering Pines anymore. And you’re not House Flourishing Maple. We’re both Subtle Hemlock. I know I’ve still got work to do, and I’m willing to do it, if you’re willing to give me the chance.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Go ahead, get inside my head and see. I won’t try to stop you.”
“Pfft. Like you could.” She considered him. “All right.”
“All right? All right, what?”
“All right, I believe you.”
Thaddeus jumped from the bed and grabbed her around the waist, kissing her deeply.
“You won’t regret it,” he said, hoping that was true for them both.
♦ ♦ ♦
“We should go back,” he said later on.
They were walking the dimly lit halls of the underground parts of the House. Thaddeus had more training today and Melanie was still to oversee it, a fact that both of them found strange.
“Back where?”
“To Malachi. We should find out what he plans for the Greenweald and see what we think of it.”
“To what end?”
“Let’s see if it’s something that we could use to benefit ourselves, maybe even take the opportunity to better our situation now. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of skulking through these tunnels. If I can’t have a tree around me, I’d at least rather be up where there’s air.”
“And how do we do that?”
“You. You’ve already gotten into his head once, for which I thanked you quite vigorously.” He smiled as she pushed him with her shoulder. “Let’s see what else we can do.”
Melanie didn’t answer and walked along for several steps in silence, her face pinched in thought.
“Here’s the plan. We’ll do your training, which you really do need, no matter how strong you think you’re getting. Then, we’ll say that we discovered something, some weird new ability of yours, and that we need to tell Malachi. That should get us in.”
“And after that?”
“After that, it won’t be a problem.”
The training went well. Thaddeus was back up to his full power after being stripped of it by Melanie the day before. He summoned great balls and clouds of flame, shaped it into whatever form he chose. He sent thin, delicate tendrils of fire into the barely open shutters of a lantern, lighting the wick inside.
Then, he concentrated on creating light. For that, he still needed a focus; it didn’t come as easily as the fire did. He used a stone, as he did in the Rustling Elm tree which seemed forever ago. Now he could make it shine like the sun itself had dropped into the room, and hold it with little effort. He laughed to remember his efforts to get the three of them free that day. The day they had left him to his fate.
Now he could have driven the entire Soul Gaunt army back and burned the tree to the ground for good measure. And he could have made sure that Shireen and Orlando were the ones left inside.
“I still have no idea how Malachi will use you,” Melanie said when they were finished. “You’re a destructive force of nature, for sure, but not exactly subtle.”
“Well, maybe we’ll have to change his plans,” he smiled back.
♦ ♦ ♦
“What is it that I simply must see?” Malachi was back to his usual sour expression. He showed no sign of remembering the events of last night, however.
“Thaddeus has taken a huge step forward in control,” Melanie said, then turned to him. “Go ahead, show him.”
“Be careful,” Malachi growled. “If I don’t like what I see, I’ll shut you down. Maybe for good.”
Thaddeus didn’t know if the man could do that or not, but the memory of the pain he could easily inflict was never far from his mind. He had no desire to test that again. His role right now was to be a distraction, to allow Melanie to slip into Malachi’s mind more easily.
He conjured up a small flame and made it dance above his palm, moving in a circle, dividing itself in two to form a tiny ball and hoop that passed through each other.
“Very cute,” Malachi sneered. “You’ve managed to make a toy from flame.”
“Wait,” Thaddeus said, and sent the flame forward, slowly, toward Malachi’s desk and the stack of papers neatly piled in the corner.
“Careful,” Malachi growled.
Thaddeus set the flame down on the papers but didn’t let it burn them. There was no smoke or odor of singed paper. He let it come back up and shoot toward his open hand. Closing his fist around it, he extinguished it and looked back at the Head of House Subtle Hemlock.
“Wonderful….” Then Malachi’s voice died and his eyes unfocused.
With a start, he came back to. “Truly wonderful! You are coming along very well!”
“Thank you,” Thaddeus said, aware that Melanie had him. “Well enough to get out of the tunnels? Maybe live up here?”
“Perhaps.” Malachi nodded happily. “You’d be a great asset to the House and a huge help to me personally.”
“And Melanie, too, of course,” Thaddeus put in.
“Oh, of course. You two make such a great couple. We couldn’t split you up, now could we?”
Thaddeus sat back in his chair. “But if we’re going to help you, we really need to know what the plans are. Why we’re involved in the Greenweald.”
“Well, that’s a secret….” A slight sheen of sweat broke out on Malachi’s brow.
Thaddeus looked over at Melanie. She sat stiffly upright in her chair, her eyes closed and her breathing deep and controlled. Malachi might be fighting her, but judging by their appearances, he was losing.
“Still,” Thaddeus said, “we can’t help if we’re not privy to it.”
“True. It’s simple really, and two-fold. The first is for profit. This place didn’t come cheap, and it’s not inexpensive to maintain. There are some things that can’t be done by magic, you know. We hire out to those who can afford us, like that insufferable Jamshir, and we use the money for the betterment of the House. And since I am the House, well, you get the picture.”
Thaddeus did indeed. He was slightly disappointed that Malachi’s grand scheme was based on something so… ordinary… as simple greed.
“What’s the other reason?”
“Revenge, of course. Revenge on a system that keeps those of us not fortunate enough to be born into wealth down in the muck. Suitable only for serving our betters.”
Malachi’s voice lost its pleasant tone and became harsher. The sweat on
his brow began to trickle down his temples. Strain was beginning to show on Melanie’s face as well.
Thaddeus didn’t quite understand Malachi’s complaint, but he could deal with that later. Better to steer the discussion into safer territory now.
“That’s a fine reason. To do that, we’ll destroy the three Great Houses and rule the Greenweald ourselves then? With you as the supreme ruler, of course.”
“Of course.” Malachi calmed slightly, and some of the tenseness left Melanie as well.
“Or at least I used to think that,” Malachi continued. “But not anymore. Who cares about the Greenweald? Look at this place, the majesty of these mountains. And there are many other worlds, with places equally grand. No, I have no use for the Greenweald and its antiquated ways any longer.”
“Then if not ruling it, what?”
“Destruction. I’ll let the whole thing be destroyed and laugh as I watch. It’s already started with Jamshir and his once-proud House. Glittering Birch is already feeling the effects of my new friends, and they’re only the first. Soon, the Greenweald will be…different. The best part is that those who looked down on me for so long will still be there to reap the harvest of what they’ve sown.”
Thaddeus looked at Melanie. Her eyes were open and staring at Malachi, a tear leaking from one eye.
She shut her eyes again and screwed up her face in concentration. Malachi stiffened, his eyes slowly closing. Moments later, he was breathing deeply.
“He’s out,” Melanie said. “We should go. All he’ll remember now is that we spoke, and he was thrilled with what we’ve accomplished. He’s granted us rooms up here, too.”
“Nicely done.” Thaddeus rose. “But what was he talking about?”
“Exactly what he said. He plans to let the Greenweald be destroyed.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure. All I could get was images of a place that’s all sadness and anger. It was buried deep though, and I was afraid to push too hard. He was fighting me, and make no mistake, Malachi is strong. He was starting to push back.”
Thaddeus hesitated. “Is it as bad as he’s saying? Can he really destroy it all?”
“Yes. I have no doubt he can, and what’s more, he’s started to.”
“We may have to rethink our plan.”
Melanie nodded. “And we don’t have a lot of time.”
Chapter 35
Solomon caught himself chuckling as Old Sam helped him to sit up against the wall again.
“Why are you laughing?” the old man asked.
“Feels like I’ve been in this situation a lot lately, that’s all. From someone who always had it all together and overcame every obstacle. Now, it’s like I can’t go two days without getting beat up or knocked out somehow. Kind of funny.”
Although it really didn’t feel all that funny. He hurt all over, again. The bite from the… what did Sam call them… plague rats? ...was still bothering him. His leg felt too heavy and he couldn’t bend it, and his hand was swollen like a balloon. And it had become increasingly difficult to concentrate enough to even notice those things.
He leaned his head back against the dirty wall behind him and closed his eyes. Focus. Breathe. Use the same techniques that helped him before.
It was no good. Every time he tried to focus on the problem at hand, getting better and finding Celia, his mind slid off it like it was made of ice. He saw no way, and could only picture himself sitting here, the infection getting worse until he dropped off and didn’t wake up.
“Hey,” a hand shook him, startling him back into awareness and sending a shock of pain through him. “Hey. She’s here. It’ll be all right now.”
Solomon opened his eyes but couldn’t seem to get his head to tilt forward. It was comfortable against the wall, so instead he moved his eyes, letting his gaze fall from the gray sky between the buildings to the woman approaching.
Short dark hair and a no-nonsense stride. She carried a black bag and, unlike almost everyone else Solomon had seen in this place, she didn’t constantly check her surroundings. Instead, she kept her eyes on him, narrowed as if already thinking of what she needed to do. Solomon liked her already. She reminded him of a shorter version of Willow, at least in terms of focus.
“What happened?” she said, when she neared. “I thought you said it was a plague rat bite?”
“It was,” Sam answered. “It is. Two of them. But someone got at him while I went to get you. I thought he’d be all right…”
“Oh, Sam. Why would you think that? Why didn’t you leave him hidden?”
“Man can’t stay under a house all day. A man ain’t no plague rat, doc.”
“Yes, but you came to get me. He wouldn’t have been under there all day, just long enough to keep him safe.”
She started to examine Solomon while she talked, touching his swollen face gently and carefully lifting his newly broken hand.
“Well, I—" Sam stopped. “You’re right, Doc. As always. I’m sorry.”
Doc Mia sighed. “It’s okay. We’ll help him.” Then to Solomon, “Can you hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, Doc, I can understand you.”
“What happened to your eye?”
At that, he did bring his head forward. With all his fresh injuries, she was asking about that?
“Soul Gaunt,” he rasped.
“Don’t know what that is, but it did a number on you. That’s all right, you’re still a good-looking man, scar and all.” She smiled up at him from where she was examining his leg. Then, she turned to Sam. “I can’t do much for him here. We need to get him to my office. Can you help?”
“Of course!” Sam bent down and grabbed Solomon’s arm, the one with the rat-bitten hand, and threw it over his shoulder. Solomon took a sharp inward breath as a spike of pain coursed up his arm.
“Easy, Sam!” Doc Mia scolded him. “He’s hurt badly. We need to help him gently.”
She demonstrated by getting on the opposite side of him and easing his other arm over her own shoulder, then they both stood, dragging Solomon upright.
He tried to help them, moving his uninjured leg under him to push himself the rest of the way up.
“Whoa. Taller than I thought,” Doc Mia said. “This isn’t going to work.”
Solomon leaned against the wall behind him, breathing heavily. “I can walk. Just give me a minute, and we’ll have to go slowly.”
“You’re in no condition to—"
Solomon pushed himself from the wall and took a halting step forward, putting his weight on his swollen leg for less than a second. The pain was intense, but he swallowed it down. He took another step, then another, sweat beading on his face.
Sam walked next to him, letting Solomon use him as a leaning post.
“You’re a tough SOB, I’ll give you that,” Doc Mia muttered.
The walk to her office took less than half an hour. To Solomon, that might as well have been days. He let his body do what it had to while he tried to take his mind somewhere else, somewhere that didn’t hurt. He let thoughts of his friends and loved ones run through his mind, seeing his boyhood days with Orlando, being taken under Jediah’s wing, and his exciting, illicit stolen moments with Celia.
“We’re here.” Doc Mia stopped and pulled an iron key from her pocket which she fitted into a lock on a heavy wooden door.
Sam helped him across the threshold and to a table covered with a cloth in the middle of the room. Solomon turned so that he could sit on it, and closed his eyes.
“Almost done, but don’t go to sleep yet,” Mia said. “Let’s get you the rest of the way up there, first.”
Solomon could have told her that he wasn’t going to sleep. Instead, he let her and Sam help his legs up onto the table and lay back. The fuzziness in his head retreated now that he was lying somewhere other than on dirt or stone.
“First thing is the bites,” Doc Mia muttered, speaking more to herself than Solomon.
“Can yo
u help him?” Sam asked.
“I hope so. You did good, Sam, getting me like that. Sorry for snapping at you.”
Solomon opened his eyes to see Sam’s weathered face beaming. He reached out his broken hand.
“Thanks,” Solomon said.
Sam blushed and turned away. “Like I said, it’ll be all right.”
“In a while maybe, but right now, I’m afraid this is going to hurt.” Doc Mia looked him over. “I don’t have anything left to numb the pain or put you to sleep. Most of that stuff got stolen long ago. Hope you’re up for this.”
“Don’t think I have much choice.” Solomon tried to smile through his swollen lips. “Do what you need to. I’ll live.”
“I hope so,” she said, and started.
She walked to a locked cabinet, took out yet another key from her pocket and opened it. From within, she took another key, then walked to the other wall.
“Make sure no one is watching, Sam,” she said.
Sam went to the lone window and peered out. “All clear.”
Doc Mia bent down and pushed aside a small bookshelf containing old, musty volumes. It moved easily enough and behind it was another cabinet built into the wall. She unlocked that one with the key from the first cabinet and removed several items, including a large, wicked-looking knife.
“This is all that’s left,” she explained, coming back to Solomon’s side. “Everything else someone broke in and took. Most of it was useless to anyone else, but everyone thinks that just because something is medical it must be worth a lot.”
As she spoke, she slit Solomon’s pantleg, starting at the bottom and sliding the knife up in a smooth, expert stroke.
“Can you turn over?” she asked.
It took some doing, but finally Solomon lay on his stomach.
“Got you right behind the knee. What’d you do, kick at one of them or something?”
“Exactly,” Solomon replied.
“That was stupid.”
“Thought it would run away.”
“Not plague-rats. Damn things are nasty. Don’t you know that?”
“No, I’m not from… aaaaaaahhhh!”
There was a sudden line of fire on the back of his leg, from his thigh down to his calf.
Solomon's Journey Page 18