Got Luck

by Michael Darling

  Erin stood beside them. She didn’t have the benefit of using her arms and hands, so she stood with her eyes closed, in silence. I knew now that there was a tattoo on the back of her neck, hidden beneath her flowing hair. She would be unable to move until she was told to do so. Worst of all, Caimiléir’s ugly Stain now flowed among her own beautiful ribbons. I rolled my eyes down. A writhing black ribbon turned on top of my white Stain. My cousin had Stained me too.

  More mental magnets clicked into place. I’d been so stupid.

  At the dance club, when she had kissed me, I’d been pleasantly surprised. And duped. She’d kissed me so quickly in the dark, among the crowd. I might have caught a hint of her new, dark Stain if I hadn’t let myself get distracted. Besides, it wasn’t at all characteristic of her or the relationship we had. I should have recognized that moment for what it was: what Caimiléir thought our relationship must be like. Somehow, while Nat and I had been looking around the club, he’d spirited Brandy and Carlene off. Then he’d caught Erin by surprise. He’d applied a tattoo and then he’d told her what to do. He’d told her what to say and how to act. Forced her to kiss me and tell me she’d be right back. All to keep me from looking for her in the bathroom for as long as possible while he stole his prizes away.

  If I’d given it one non-hormonal thought, I’d have realized Erin hadn’t been herself. I’d have realized the reason for her behavior, so much out of character, and I’d have known she was being controlled. Realizing that, I might have kept her safe.

  She was the one person I would trust completely. Caimiléir had used her against me, and now I was about to find out the price of my stupidity.

  I had found the women all right and they were alive. But now it may be too late.

  Caimiléir stood between me and the girls. It was safe to assume that Caimiléir was determined enough, after all this time and effort, to kill them without hesitation. He’d been ruthless and cavalier with lives before, and I suspected we didn’t mean anything more to him than Greim had. I have to get them out of here.

  Two glass daggers appeared in his hands. One moment his hands were empty and the next, they held a pair of wicked-looking blades. Caimiléir grabbed Carlene and yanked her to her feet. She screamed and tried to pull away. Even though he looked exhausted, Caimiléir was a knight and more than strong enough to control her.

  “Pick her up and follow me,” he commanded.

  I did as I was told. I lifted Carlene off the ground. She fell over my shoulder. Her weight reignited the pain in my ribs but I could only groan inwardly. She tried to hit and kick but she was so wrung out she barely had strength to fight. My heart ached. To what doom was I carrying this innocent girl?

  We walked around to the other side of the ring. Caimiléir had probably chosen Carlene first because she was the smallest. Because they were Stained, I knew he’d used magic on them, but I wondered why Caimiléir had not tattooed them as well. Not enough time? Or because the girls were mere Mortals? Or maybe he knew that having them struggling and crying would entertain the sadistic side of MacPherson’s warped personality. And that would amuse Caimiléir.

  I hated both of them.

  “Drop her here,” Caimiléir commanded.

  With her hands and feet still bound, I dumped Carlene unceremoniously to the floor. She crumpled to the hard concrete and it looked like it hurt. She was crying again. Caimiléir remained unmoved. I regretted every moment.

  We were at the edge of the ring, adjacent to the glittering circle of diamonds. Now that I was closer, I could see a faintly-glimmering spider web of power over the diamond circle. A ward had been placed over them, but I couldn’t tell what the ward was doing. Next to the circle, there was small receptacle of some kind that fed into the diamonds.

  Caimiléir grabbed Carlene’s hand and slid the blade across her palm. Blood welled from the wound and she cried out again. Caimiléir squeezed her hand and the receptacle quickly filled with Carlene’s blood. I could almost hear the beating of Carlene’s heart matching the rhythm of the beating gate.

  The shock of watching this happen turned my heart to ice. I wanted to scream for her. I wanted to wake us all up from this horrible nightmare. But I couldn’t.

  “Take your medallion!” Caimiléir shouted at me. He held my healing coin. He must have gotten it from Lonnie while I’d been looking elsewhere. I took it.

  “Heal her,” Caimiléir commanded.

  I knelt so I could reach her. I put the medallion over her palm and said, “Leigheas,” as I released a flow of my power. The wound started to close itself. I had to move the medallion along the cut to heal it completely, so I repeated the word and my will continued to flow. The wound was about three inches long and my stomach roiled on Carlene’s behalf. The poor girl must have felt the easing of her pain because she raised her head off the ground. She looked at me with fearful sweetness and tried to say something. I couldn’t discern the words but they sounded like hope. I prayed it wasn’t misplaced.

  We went after Brandy next. She cried and shook her head repeatedly. She had seen what had just been done to Carlene and her fear was palpable from the other side of the room. She tried to squirm away, but of course Caimiléir commanded me to snatch her up and carry her toward the next spot on the circle. She was a bigger girl than Carlene and continued to thrash in my grip, trying with everything she had to avoid Carlene’s fate.

  I almost dropped her. The pain in my side is getting worse.

  “Hold on!” Caimiléir said. “We wouldn’t want her to bleed where it won’t do any good.”

  She continued to fight me. Short, explosive sounds came through her gag. It wasn’t hard to guess at the words she was throwing at me. She was tough, and I could see why Nat liked her.

  “Put her here, Goethe,” Caimiléir commanded. I hoped Brandy would be able to endure what was coming, knowing that Caimiléir would command me to heal her after a minute. Caimiléir cut her and the fight flowed out her as fast as her blood. The receptacle filled with crimson.

  “Heal her.”

  I saw MacPherson on the periphery as I closed Brandy’s wound. “Why are we healing them?” he asked. He sounded like a four year-old whose parents had shelved his favorite toy.

  “All we need for now is blood,” Caimiléir answered. “And we need to make sure Prince Luck has used up his power reserves. When our guest arrives, there will be a surge of wild magic. It could undo the wards and spells we have cast. So, if Luck is released from our control, we want him weak and unable to use his magic.”

  Caimiléir fixed his eyes on me and smiled. It almost seemed genuine. “I understand he is fond of fire spells. It would be better if we take away his fuel now lest we regret it later.”

  MacPherson remained doubtful. Caimiléir took notice. “Everything has a purpose, mortal,” he said. “I waste nothing when it matters and everything I do is necessary.”

  Give him a break, Lonnie. He’s killing people as fast as he can.

  “My prince. Follow me,” Caimiléir said. I followed, feeling like a pet dog. We stopped at the third receptacle. I realized now that the receptacles were at the four points of the compass. North. South. East. West. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that we were on at least one ley line as well, and I wished I could ask if we were. A ley line would provide more power to the gathering magic.

  “Are you screaming in there?” Caimiléir asked. He looked directly into my eyes and peered at me as if trying to see behind a mask. All I saw in return was a whole lotta crazy. “If you were unbound, would you beg for your life? The lives of these women you’re so fond of?”

  Beg? No. Take your head off? Yes.

  I was ready to suffer being cut. The women had survived and done so courageously. I just worried I wouldn’t be able to heal myself. Erin had said it worked better to be healed by someone else.

  “Fortunately for you, my prince, I am a ter
rible healer. My talents lie in the opposite direction. I imagine your little wife has a talent for it, but sadly she has been drained of her power already. She opened the first four rings. Such a helpful girl.”

  Caimiléir held out his own hand and cut himself. I noticed he didn’t do so with as much enthusiasm as he’d shown previously. His wound was shallow and it took more time for his blood to fill the cup.

  MacPherson had moved to the other side of the circle to stand next to Erin. He watched us with a mixture of disgust and anticipation. He had produced his own knife—made of steel—and was holding it so hard his knuckles were turning white. He stared at me like he could read my thoughts. Like he knew I would kill him to make sure Erin was all right, if I could. He might be unable to actually murder Erin on purpose, the coward, but I worried he would hurt her for the thrill of it.

  When no more blood could be contained in the bowl, Caimiléir stood. “Heal me,” he said.

  What I wanted to do was wrestle the knife from him and plunge it into his heart.

  Instead—and it galled me—I healed his wound.

  When I was finished, there wasn’t even a trace of a scar on him.

  “Nicely done,” Caimiléir said. “Follow me.”

  I knew where we were going. There was only one receptacle remaining and Erin was standing next to it. She had to know what was going to happen. My stomach churned and my heartbeat skipped. She had to be dying inside. I know I was.

  As directed, I followed Caimiléir until I stood in front of Erin.

  Our resident psychotic commanded her to open her eyes and she did. They were brilliantly, deeply green.

  I wish I could talk to you right now. I wish I could tell you everything will be all right. Look at me, Erin, and trust me.

  Caimiléir spoke to me, pulling my attention away from Erin. “Prince Luck, you will do exactly what Mr. MacPherson tells you to do.” Caimiléir rubbed his hands together. I think he was maybe a little nervous or excited or both. Maybe it’s just what bad guys do.

  “It’s almost time,” he said. “I will cast the last incantation. Mr. MacPherson, we will need a little blood.”

  “I know what to do,” MacPherson said. He was put out, like being told to clean his room when he was already planning on doing it.

  Caimiléir moved to his platform with the box full of diamonds. With his hand extended, he threaded power into the diamonds.

  He started the incantation.

  The words were mostly unintelligible and most of the bits of sound I caught, I couldn’t begin to interpret. The incantation was long, but one section Caimiléir repeated.

  Ríoga-Brón, tagann ó i bhfad i gcéin,

  Ríoga-Brón, tar níos congarach,

  Ríoga-Brón, tar chun deifir,

  Ríoga-Brón, tar duine le duine liom.

  He sang other sections in between, in a surprisingly strong baritone, but I heard those four lines over and over. As he chanted, the drumbeat in the room pounded harder, ramping up.

  I looked in Erin’s eyes. If I could tell you what Keeper and I had planned, maybe you wouldn’t be so scared.

  “Won’t be long now,” MacPherson said. He was gloating already, but I didn’t see any deamhan yet. “Take this,” he commanded. He held his steel knife out to me. I had to do as he asked. “I can’t kill you but there’s no reason I can’t have a little fun.”

  I took the knife by the handle. The iron in the knife made it feel like an electrical wire. My hand clenched and I felt pain shooting up my arm. My head started pounding. I wanted to drop the knife but I couldn’t. The pain aggravated my sore ribs as well and my breath caught in my chest.

  Caimiléir’s voice was getting ragged around the edges. Five rings in the circle, five chants to wake them. He went on while the pain in my hand deepened and my head felt ready to explode. It was starting to burn now, as if the knife were an ember. MacPherson grinned at me. He knew the knife was hurting me. He knew the dread I was feeling and the fear gathering around Erin.

  The anticipation now was torturing MacPherson too, but in a different way. Keeper had told me that there would be a point of no return. A moment where, if Caimiléir stopped, the whole ritual would fail. It felt like that moment had to come soon. I prayed that it would. There was a pealing bell, low and deep and resonant. Caimiléir’s fevered chanting rose to a climax.

  “Moonrise,” MacPherson said, smiling a gleeful, toothy rictus. “Now slit her throat.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Blood and Summoning

  MacPherson took a step to the side. He wanted a clear view for what would happen next.

  I moved the knife to Erin’s neck. Of course, she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t.

  Don’t be afraid! It was time for the next step of my plan. The plan that Keeper and I had forged to keep me from being controlled. Now I could stop pretending. Stop faking. Take action.

  I turned my wrist so that the flat of the blade pressed against the back of her neck.

  The steel knife, given to me by MacPherson, shattered the spell fueling her tattoo. The release of power trembled through the knife into my hand.

  Erin blinked and I pulled the knife away and she gasped. In reflex, her hands went to the back of her neck. I turned and threw the knife at Caimiléir. He didn’t see the knife coming, but my hand was numb with pain and my throw went wide.

  MacPherson, expecting blood, growled like an animal. He jumped and grabbed Erin around the stomach, lifting her off the ground.

  She whipped her head back and nailed MacPherson’s face with an audible crunch. His growl turned into a scream as his nose erupted in blood. She kicked back with her foot and caught his knee with her heel, which made him drop her. She landed on her feet and turned. She kicked from the side and connected with the knee again. It buckled inward and MacPherson went down.

  His scream rose higher as he clutched his knee with both hands and then the sound went too high to hear. Not for the first time, I wondered how this walking bowl of pudding had managed to father an intelligent, competent woman like Milly.

  Different deal when you’re on the receiving end, huh, Lonnie?

  Erin stepped back and left him in agony on the floor. I caught her by the shoulders and she turned to throw her arms around my neck.

  “I knew you wouldn’t do it!” she said. She buried her face in my shoulder. “I knew somehow you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  There wasn’t time for explanations. “Good job,” I said. “You remembered your training from the gym. I’m proud of you.” Erin looked into my eyes and then she started to kiss me but she felt me take her necklace in my hand.

  “Hey, what are you—” she said before I yanked the pendant off the chain. She disappeared. Blink.

  “Following my plan,” I said to the empty air.

  A rumble took over the whole complex. The drumming sound had increased tempo and now beat a heavy staccato that raised the dust and rubble off the floor. All five rings in the Jeweled Gate were spinning in alternating directions. Caimiléir continued his chant. He looked over at me, wild-eyed. He needed blood in the last bowl but Erin was gone.

  I broke for Carlene as she was closer. My ribs complained as I sprinted towards her. I had extra necklaces from Keeper. I told Carlene she was going to be all right now. She was in shock and couldn’t even focus on me. I put the chain around her neck and pulled the pendant. Blink. In my mind, I thanked Keeper for his help.

  Caimiléir leaped from his pedestal, running too. Running toward MacPherson.

  My priority was to save the innocent. Until that was done, I had no other purpose. I went to Brandy and put the chain around her neck. She said “Thank you” as I pulled the pendant. Blink.

  I spun around.

  MacPherson was still writhing in pain on the concrete and Caimiléir stood over him. I’d never reach him in time.

>   Caimiléir kept his song flowing uninterrupted as he raised MacPherson’s head by the hair. Caimiléir’s glass knife flashed, and the cup filled in a literal heartbeat.

  No corner of the kingdom for you, Lonnie.

  The drumming struck five beats in a row as Caimiléir’s chant came to a climax. Finally, he fell silent.

  Underneath the drumming had been a second sound: a keening whine. Now it grew as the five rings of the Jeweled Gate accelerated. Red lightning filled the space in the center with crackling energy like a tornado made of electricity. The accompanying thunder added fresh booming sounds to the symphony of the summoning. The ritual was completing itself now. The machinery was running away on its own, and I had no idea how to stop it. All I could do was watch. Lightning bolts flashed from the vortex, striking the pillars overhead. The smell of sulfur and charred concrete suddenly filled the air. The temperature jumped up noticeably. I was already sweating through my shirt.

  Caimiléir watched the unfolding release of elemental power, transfixed. He moved back to stand on his elevated platform, never taking his eyes off the spinning dance of light. I crept toward MacPherson’s body, trying to stay out of Caimiléir’s view. I wasn’t in the habit of rifling through a dead man’s pockets. Desperate times.

  I took everything. MacPherson’s wallet. Car keys. A pair of reading glasses in a hard case, and all the things he had stolen from me, including my gun. I checked the clip and it was still full.

  For all the good it will do. This is shaping up to be a really lousy gunfight.

  Worth a try.