Solatium (Emanations, an urban fantasy series Book 2)

by Becca Mills

  After I’d learned the postures and gestures, Gwen filled me in on where the ice men lived. They were a cold-weather species and had a presence in at least six S-Em strata where the summer temperatures maxed out in the fifties Fahrenheit. They were especially fond of ice-age strata.

  “Not so many dinosaurs in those,” Gwen said.

  Their homeland was in a stratum called Fur. That’s where I’d be going. It was of their own making, less than a million years old. She called up a map on her phone and showed me northeastern Canada. The stratum contained the same landmasses. She pointed out Baffin Island, which was the part closest to Greenland. The ice men’s great citadel was there.

  The weather would be dangerous, even in the summer. I’d have to be careful. Frostbite and hypothermia would be ever-present dangers. Gwen spent quite a while talking about cold-weather safety — especially the risks of crossing glacial melt streams.

  “They run fast and deep,” she said. “The water’s often opaque, and they’re very cold.”

  I probably wouldn’t see any other humans while I was there. Occasionally, a diplomat, trader, or scholar visited the citadel, but that’s it. Most humanoid Seconds didn’t like the ice men, and the ice men returned the sentiment. There was little contact between the species.

  Eventually, Gwen seemed to run out of things to tell me.

  We sat there in silence for a minute. A feeling of awkwardness that I didn’t quite understand began stealing over me.

  “So, any chance you’ll be on the team Lord Cordus is sending with me?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I’m leaving for St. Louis in the morning. A kraken snuck into the Mississippi, somehow. Or was put there.”

  “A kraken?”

  “They’re not really monsters — just a very large species of octopus.”

  “How large?”

  “A hundred feet, or so.”

  “Holy cow. Do they eat people?”

  “No, just fish. But they like to build underwater structures to concentrate prey. This one has caused two shipping accidents, and one of its structures is showing up a bit on Google Earth. The humans don’t know what the heck’s going on with their shipping channels. It’s a problem.”

  “I bet.”

  I wondered if the Octoworld isolate I’d visited had any kraken.

  “Lord Cordus is coming with me,” Gwen said.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  The powers who held territory in the F-Em didn’t do their own dirty work. Nolanders did that stuff. That way, if the one law got broken, a Nolander would pay the price.

  “If he’s willing to get personally involved, things must really be a mess.”

  Gwen nodded. “I don’t know exactly how many of his people remained loyal, but it’s not a lot. He’s going to have to reestablish control over his territory, get a handle on stuff like the kraken, and then deal with the defectors.”

  “Deal with them?”

  She gave me a don’t-be-naive look.

  I shivered. Then I felt a rush of gratitude that he didn’t treat me as badly as he treated the others. Then I felt horribly guilty for feeling that way.

  Gwen was watching me. She didn’t say anything.

  I began to feel uncomfortable again.

  It was weird. Gwen never made me uncomfortable. Even before she’d gotten to know me and had seemed very reserved, she’d been a calming presence. I couldn’t figure out what was setting me off. She wasn’t shutting me out. In fact, she was being quite forthcoming about Lord Cordus’s position — usually she was more circumspect. But something still felt wrong.

  It bothered me. I had a headache coming on.

  “Is it okay if people come by tonight?” Gwen said. “You know. To say goodbye?”

  “Yeah, of course. Definitely. I really want to see everyone.”

  Why didn’t I think of that?

  “Okay,” Gwen said. “After dinner?”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll pass the word.”

  She stood. For a horrible moment, I thought she was going to cry. But she just nodded and turned away.

  “See you later, Beth.”

  After she’d left, I sat there for a few minutes, trying to understand why Gwen wasn’t happy for me. I’d finally gotten what I wanted most: someone who believed in me — Lord Cordus, no less — and a chance to really help. Why was she acting like it was some kind of disaster?

  “What’re you going to tell Tiffany?” Kara said.

  “Um … I don’t … shit.”

  “You didn’t think of calling her? You’re going to be gone for months. Jesus, Beth. That’s not like you.”

  “Sanchez,” Gwen said, her voice flat.

  Kara crossed her arms and sank back into the couch, swearing under her breath.

  I looked around at my other friends.

  They’d all come — Gwen and Theo were sitting to either side of Kara. Andy was beside me, an arm draped around my shoulders. Even Zion was there, squeezed into the narrow space between the arm of my green sofa and the suspicious stain on its cushion.

  They looked like they were at a funeral. Even Andy was weirdly silent.

  They were pretty obviously just as concerned as Gwen had been earlier in the day.

  I’d tried to get into their point of view. My friends were smart and experienced. I knew they cared about me. If they thought this mission was a bad idea, I should try to understand. But I couldn’t. Every which way I looked at it, it just seemed like they weren’t getting how great this was for me, how it was the answer to all my dreams, how Lord Cordus’s belief in me made me feel.

  Their lack of understanding made me angry.

  At the same time, my inability to even grasp their point of view disturbed me. It was weird. Not agreeing with someone is one thing. Having no flippin’ idea why they think what they think — that’s something else. It didn’t usually happen to me. I had plenty of weaknesses, but I’d always been reasonably good at empathy.

  Gwen cut into my thoughts. “Theo, why don’t you call Tiffany tomorrow and let her know? It’ll be less … disruptive.”

  Theo nodded and looked down.

  Andy cleared his throat. “Maybe it would be, you know, good for Beth to make that call herself? Now?”

  Gwen gave him a hard look. “What’s good for Beth is not the only consideration, here.”

  Andy’s expression darkened. “Excuse me, but I’m a damn sight more worried about her than I am about me right now.”

  “Thank-fucking-you,” Kara growled.

  I looked from one of them to the other.

  What the hell are they talking about?

  “No,” Zion said. “Gwen’s right. This isn’t something we can undo. All we can do is temporarily mess it up — very temporarily. There’s no point. We’d be risking ourselves for nothing.”

  “Like hell,” Kara said. “For once, he needs us. If he kills us, who’s he going to use to get a handle on things, here?”

  “I don’t know,” Zion said acidly. “A whole bunch of super-powerful lackeys from the S-Em?”

  “Enough,” Gwen said, sinking a lot of I’m-in-charge into her voice. “We shouldn’t be having this conversation. Not anywhere, and especially not here. We’ve gotten used to running things pretty much on our own, used to speaking freely. That needs to stop. Things are as they are. We are who we are.” She looked around at each of them. “This could be any of us. For all we know, it has been one of us — or all of us. Who’s to say?”

  Andy opened his mouth to speak.

  Gwen just looked at him, shaking her head.

  He sighed and leaned his head back on the top of the couch.

  A heavy air of defeat settled across the room.

  I looked around, mystified.

  “Come on, bro,” Theo said.

  He stood and gave Andy a hand up off the couch. The two stood there for a second, some silent communication passing between them. Then Andy nodded and headed for the
door, his head low.

  “Bye, Beth,” Theo said. “Stay safe over there.”

  He leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. It wasn’t perfect, like when Lord Cordus had done it. Theo had a little beer on his lips, and I felt his nose push into my hair. Then he followed Andy out.

  “We should probably all get going,” Gwen said, rising. “Beth has an early day tomorrow.”

  “Yeah,” said Zion.

  She stood, dusting off her pants.

  Kara perked up. “I’ll spend the night here, so Beth doesn’t have to be alone.”

  “No, you won’t,” Gwen said firmly.

  Kara stood, her posture combative. Gwen just stared back at her impassively. After a few tense seconds, Kara’s face crumpled, and she started to cry.

  Surprisingly, Zion put an arm around her. “Come on.”

  The three of them left. None of them really said goodbye to me.

  I sat there for a long while after they left, going over their words and actions in my mind. I couldn’t remember ever feeling so confused. In the end, I had to just let it go. Once I did, I felt much better. There really was no reason to worry.

  My alarm went off when it was still dark. I had a terrible headache and the vague sense that something was wrong. Then I remembered my mission, and a warm sense of competence and purpose flowed through me.

  I showered, dressed quickly, and headed for the door, holding the tiny bunch of things Gwen had allowed me to bring. I stepped out into the hallway and then paused to glance around the room. Seeing Sniggles the bear propped against my pillow made me smile. This place really had become home. It’d be good to come back here when my mission was done.

  Still smiling to myself, I closed the door.

  The estate’s back entrance was bustling. Crates and bags were piled near the door, and a bunch of staff members were ferrying them out. I watched Koji come in, stack a couple boxes, and lift them. When he straightened up, he saw me and grinned.

  He probably doesn’t know where I’m going.

  Koji was one of the estate staff — one of the few I’d managed to befriend. People like Koji weren’t told anything important. They were grunts.

  That’s wrong.

  I shook my head. It wasn’t wrong. Just regrettable. You had to be practical about these things.

  Then Williams walked in from outside.

  My heart rate spiked. Nausea gripped me, and I felt dizzy.

  Damn. I hadn’t had a panic attack in months.

  I dropped my pack on the floor, then sat down on it and put my head between my knees. It was either that or faint.

  I heard Williams pick up some boxes and head outside.

  For a few seconds, I was blessedly alone. My breathing calmed, and I turned my head to the side, so I could see.

  The sun was rising. The light leaned its golden shoulder in through the open door. Dust particles swirled in the light according to their own weird logic. It felt like if I could just watch their movement long enough, I would understand.

  Koji came back in. “You okay, Beth?”

  He gave me a hand up.

  “Yeah. I’m all right.”

  “You going on this trip?”

  I nodded. “Is there a pack around here that might be mine?”

  “Yeah, just outside. Come on.”

  I followed him out. An extended-cab pickup was parked in the driveway. It was hitched to a big horse trailer. Made sense — we’d need horses for the trip. The other world didn’t have the same technology. As far as I knew, it was a King-Arthur-meets-Stagecoach kind of place.

  Williams was in the pickup’s bed, checking the hitch. He straightened and jumped down, then headed back to the trailer to check the horses.

  It suddenly occurred to me that there was only one reason he’d be out here checking the rig — he was driving it. My team included Williams.

  The realization brought another wave of nausea and dizziness and, along with it, a weird, phantom pain.

  I realized I was having a flashback, an echo of the endless agony of him drawing on me. For an instant, I remembered the barrier he’d made — its different layers, all its tiny particles, what it had felt like to make it and try to keep it whole. Then my understanding of it slid away, leaving my heart pounding.

  It’s okay to be freaked out, I told myself. The experience had been traumatic, and it was only a couple days old.

  It sure looked like I’d be getting plenty of time to work through it. Two months traveling with Williams. Ugh. I could see why Lord Cordus would choose him — he was supposedly the second strongest Nolander in the organization, after Callie. But it still sucked.

  I located my bag, leaning against the side of the house. It was one of those huge frame backpacks. Looking at it, I had some doubts about how far I’d be able to carry it. Good thing Gwen hadn’t let me bring much of my own.

  I unzipped the top and stuffed in my handful of underwear. Then I hefted the thing. It was surprisingly doable. My workout regimen had done a lot of good.

  I walked around to the pickup’s passenger side and pushed my pack into the backseat. Then I stood there, excited but, for some reason, not quite ready to climb in.

  “Were you really gonna leave without saying goodbye?” Andy said from behind me.

  For a moment I was irked. Whatever’d been going on with my friends the night before, I didn’t want to embark on my mission feeling all upset and worried.

  Then I turned around and realized I very much wanted Andy’s face to be the last thing I saw before I left. He’d become precious to me in a way no one else had. Hanging out with him was easy — no angst, no misunderstandings, no stress. He cared about me. And he made me laugh.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I totally was.”

  “You’re a dumbass.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “Oh, the wit … I can’t take it.”

  He grinned and enfolded me in a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head.

  “You be careful over there,” he said more seriously. “Come back to us in one piece.”

  “I keep telling you guys, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I know, but —”

  “You’re the one who needs to be careful, Andy.”

  “Hey, you know me.”

  “That’s what makes me worry.”

  “Jesus, Ryder. You been studying your Lamest Retorts Ever book?”

  He helped me up into the truck. Williams was already in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead.

  Andy stood there as I buckled myself in, smiling at me sadly. Then he leaned over to look at Williams.

  “Dude. Anything happens to her, we will fuck you up.”

  Williams shot him a micro-glance that said, You are almost too irritating to live.

  “Uh-huh,” Andy said, as though he’d come to the same interpretation. “You just keep thinking that, especially when —”

  Williams hit the gas, and the truck lurched forward, rocking as the trailer squealed into motion, then rocking again as the startled horses moved around inside.

  I stuck my head out the open door and looked back at Andy. He was standing in the driveway, giving Williams the finger. He saw me and grinned and switched to waving. I waved back.

  Then the driveway curved away from the house, and I couldn’t see him anymore.

  I felt a jagged pang of loss, one that made everything around me seem pale and false. But after a few moments, it faded. The trip would fly by. I’d see Andy again in no time.

  I leaned my head against the pickup’s window, wishing I could go back to sleep. But I’d dozed for the first three hours of the drive. My sleepiness was gone.

  I’m going to have to talk to him sooner or later. Might as well get it over with.

  “So, who else is on the team?”

  Williams ignored me.

  “Look,” I said, “we’re —”

  My pocket vibrated.

  Maybe it’s Tiffany.

 
; Theo had probably called her, and now she was calling me. I felt a swell of annoyance. I didn’t want to deal with more doubt and negativity. But still, she was my niece.

  I pulled my phone out. The area code was 715 — northern Wisconsin — but the number wasn’t Tiffany’s. It was Suzanne Dreisbach’s.

  I sat there for a few seconds, paralyzed by the question of whether or not to answer.

  Suzanne was my next-door neighbor back in Dorf. Since I’d been in New York, she’d been recruiting neighborhood kids to take care of my pet mouse. She was probably calling about that, but the mouse was supposed to be a secret, and there was Williams, right next to me.

  If I don’t answer, he’ll think it’s weird.

  “Hello, Suzanne.”

  With one finger, I surreptitiously punched the earpiece volume down as low as it would go.

  “Hi, Betty! How are you?”

  I cringed at the nickname. “Fine, thanks. What’s up?”

  “’Fraid I have some bad news. Elaine found the tank empty this morning. I just went over to have a look around, and sure enough, there’s no sign of the little critter.”

  I shrugged inwardly. The mouse could probably live out his life quite comfortably on all the crumbs in the crevices and dark corners of my kitchen.

  “Oh. Well, that’s too bad. I guess one of the kids … you know. Didn’t do a good job.”

  “Beats me, hon. Elaine said the lid was on as tight as can be. I can’t see how it could’ve got out.”

  A shiver passed over me, raising the hair on my arms.

  “Well, you know, maybe one of the kids was fooling around with it and lost it, and then didn’t want to fess up,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully.

  “Mmm, I think you put your finger on it. Well, darn it. I’m sorry about that, Betty. If I’d have thought Elaine would do that, I wouldn’t have picked her.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t let it worry you.”

  “You want me to set a trap?”