by Luna Lindsey
Orven sighed a great, deep sigh like a mountain gust. “I see. The spirit of that cathedral lives, as I do. The bricks can stand without an architect’s pen. They will not be real bricks, but bricks of its soul.”
“You can start right now. Build it again out of glamour.”
“No one will see it except the fae!”
“And children. And dreamers, like me. We will go there and sense it. And when we squint just right, and believe hard enough, it will appear. We will see your magnificent cathedral. Anyway, what use is a cathedral to an unbeliever?”
Orven leaned forward just a little. A tear dripped down his creviced, stony face. “You did it. You found me a purpose when I’d lost all hope.”
“I didn’t do it,” Jina said. “You did.” She came to him on unsteady legs and hugged him. He wrapped his great arms gently around her. She shivered and he felt the skin of her neck press against his belly.
It was as cold as a corpse.
“You are not well,” he said.
Jina stepped back and drew in on herself again. “I’m faestricken,” she said. “I am slowly freezing to death from the inside out.”
“Who did this?”
“A korrigan. Pogswoth. I think you knew him?”
Orven sucked in a breath. “Barely. A spiteful creature, a browbeater and a liar. He has a ‘sick cat’ locked away in his dwelling, that I doubt is a cat. Probably a dreamer he is rending.” Orven shook his head. “I was so naive. I really believed he had a cat.”
“You know where he lives?” She sounded excited.
“There is a red building on Capitol Hill. His dwelling lies behind the graffiti of a cartoon face.”
“Behind the graffiti? How?”
“It is an elf door. You just… walk through the hole in reality.”
“Like Tir Nan Og?”
“You understand.”
Jina appeared uncertain. “I hope so.”
“Jett could show you how.”
Jina’s face darkened. “She wouldn’t. She wants to protect me, and doesn’t want me rushing into danger. She thinks there’s someone who knows how to reverse this spell.”
“You should listen to Jett. She cares for you, and knows much.”
“No,” Jina said shaking her head. “I can’t just sit here waiting. I have to at least try, to save myself, and the dreamer you say he has.”
The little dreamer did not look in any condition to fight. She had started shivering hard. He watched her pull out her phone and fumble at the buttons.
“Sandy can’t help me, but Trey will. If Pogswoth dies, maybe I live.”
It might work. If she or someone else killed Pogswoth… Or if someone held that korrigan’s neck beneath thick fists and made him whimper until he lifted the curse…
Orven rose to his feet, pebbles and dirt falling from the ceiling. He gazed at the drop falling from the stalactite into the silver pool. He could be at that red warehouse before Jina could blink.
When he glanced back at her to wave his farewell, her mouth hung open.
“No…” she whispered. “Not Trey…”
CHAPTER 53
*
JINA STARTED TO DIAL Trey’s number, until she saw that she’d missed calls from him.
There were three messages.
“Jina please pick up.” He spoke in desperate tones. “The iron heart you gave me. It’s gone. I didn’t lose it. I left it hanging from my lamp when I went to take a shower. When I came out, it was missing. Call me back.”
Maybe it fell, she thought to herself, and the next call is saying he found it under the bed.
Except from the beginning of the next message, Trey had a fearful tone to his voice that Jina had rarely heard in a man.
“He’s at the door. I saw him through the pinhole. It’s locked, of course it’s locked. Now I hear the sound of… a spray can. How did he get the iron if he’s still—it doesn’t matter. Jina, call me back now and tell me what to do!”
That call had come at 3:08 a.m. Three hours ago.
The final call had come from Trey’s phone, but the message was not from Trey. At first there was a scuffling noise, and then a thump. Then Pogswoth’s voice. “My old dreamer is all used up. Since I couldn’t have you, I needed to get a new dreamer somewheres elsewhere. Got to be self-sufficient, get my own toradh, not mooch from the commons. But I would rather have you.”
It was as if Pogswoth had run out of milk and gone down to the 7-11 to pick up more, to find they were out of 2%.
When she ran upstairs she found Jett sitting on the porch in a thin sundress sipping lemonade. “Lovely morning. I made you coffee.” Jett gestured at a steaming mug on the rail.
“I wish it was morning,” Jina said, snatching it up. It warmed her fingers, a little, and soothed the shivering. She hoped the caffeine would be enough to tell her brain to stay awake.
“Did you call Triona?” Jina asked, hoping she’d have one less thing to worry about when she went to rescue Trey.
“Call? Lady Triona doesn’t believe in phones. I sent a bird.”
“A bird? We don’t even know if she can help me, and you sent a bird?”
“The Lady of Undergrow Knowe is bound in the roots of her hearthtree; sap runs through her veins. She is set in her ways and runs on her own time.”
That seemed to be the problem with a lot of faeries. A bunch of powerful, crotchety old people who couldn’t seem to get with the times. “Can’t we go visit her at least?”
Jett shook her head. “You can only enter Undergrow Knowe at night.”
“Well it’s night now!” Jina waved her hand at the sky. “Never mind. Pogswoth has Trey. I’m going after him myself. Right now.”
Orven ducked through the door at that moment. Jina had completely forgotten about him. She had no idea how he’d fit up the tunnel or the stairs.
“I will go with you,” he said.
“Good,” Jina said, setting the mug back on the rail. “Glad to see someone around here is willing to be useful.”
“This is folly,” Jett said. “You have no weapons, you’re freezing, and you’re tired. This is what the korrigan wants.”
“I would have weapons, if Sandy was free. With her, Hollis, Gret, and Orven here, Pogswoth wouldn’t stand a chance. It’s up to you. I go alone, or I go with Sandy.”
“I could command you not to go,” Jett said, the lemonade turning green and oozing over.
“I wish you would,” Jina said. “Then I could command you to go instead.”
“I would go now!” Jett exclaimed, rising to her feet, letting the glass fall off the arm of her chair. “But…” She looked away, out into the trees. “I have no power over him.”
“Exactly,” Jina said. “You need Sandy. If I don’t have Sandy, I die. And if I die, you die.”
Orven interjected. “Flidais would have wanted peace.” His soft voice carried a power that made Jina want to follow him to the depths of Tir Nan Og.
“What do you know about my mother?” Jett spat, turning away.
“Flidais was the beginning and end of many wars. I fought for her, when we were gods.”
Jett inhaled deeply. “There is no guide for the thistle down…”
“Then why do you snatch the acorn out of midair by controlling Sandy with your magic?” Orven gripped the air with his giant fingers.
“If Sandy did not cling so tightly to the briar, she might find her hands would stop bleeding!”
Ezra lowered himself down to sit on the porch. He made the short steps look tiny. “Maybe the wind has brought her to you to help protect the brugh from Pogswoth. And to save the dreamers he abducts. Did you think about that?”
Jett leaned forward. “My brugh will be fine.”
Orven lifted Jina’s frostnipped hand. “Will they?”
From just down the street, Jina heard music playing loudly on cheap speakers. It had been coming closer for the last couple of minutes; Jina now noticed it was one of her songs.
W
hile I’m wondering who to save,
I will love you to your grave.
You can fend off my attack,
But my heart will bring you back.
The words reverberated off the walls of the neighborhood houses, distorting the sound. It came closer, along with a scraping noise. Jina felt a cold breeze blow inside her skin. Then a soft voice somehow lifted over the volume of the music, “Sunday…”
“Shit,” Jina whispered. “He’s saved us the trouble.”
Pogswoth came into view from behind the laurel hedges. His scarf was shorter, cut and frayed. He dragged a boom box behind him on a rope, and behind that, a small iron cage. He had some kind of long, straight staff in his hands that made a brittle ringing sound when it hit the ground.
“Monday…”
The music faded out slowly, drawing the sound deep and slow, like batteries running out on a cassette tape.
“Tuesday,” he sang. He looked up at Jina, and said, “I got your CD. They had it at Silver Platters. Quite a local selection there. But it isn’t signed.” He held out the case.
Jina ignored him and tried to make an assessment of the situation. She had some protection from destructive magic through the geas, a few spells, and a giant troll who had offered his assistance. And her bare hands.
Jina longed for a sword. She would cut more than his scarf.
Jett rose to her feet. “You dare tread into my realm? Pogswoth, I command you depart!”
He laughed, holding up the iron cage dangling from a rope. “…and take little Perstin with me? I’m guessing he matters to you, milady. Turns out, he likes coffee beans.”
The cage looked like one of Sandy’s traps. And inside was smashed a gnome-looking creature with a long nose and paint stuck in his dreadlocks.
Jett took on a regal poise that Jina had come to recognize as her coldest form of anger. She stepped forward, and at the same time, some of the other housemates rushed out the front door to see what was going on.
“He smells of the newly dead,” Ivy whispered. She licked her pale lips.
Jett held a hand up, keeping them back.
Orven, on the other hand, had no restraints. He lifted his bulk into a standing position and looked about ready to thump Pogswoth with just one of his heavy hands.
“That’s right,” Pogswoth said. “Keep your precious duine chlainne safe behind those walls while you send your minions out to do your dirty work. They might be protected from my glamour, but this–” He stamped the staff into the ground three times. “–is called a ‘harping iron’. Emphasis on iron.”
Jina looked at it more closely. It was a harpoon, wrapped with rope in the middle to protect Pogswoth’s hands. She glanced behind to see Ivy and Fiz back up slowly towards the door. Even Orven eyed the iron warily, and did not advance. Ramón held his ground.
If only she had some iron of her own. At least she did have a rooting rhyme. It had tested true before.
“Korrigan hear me,” Jina said between violent shivers, “Hear me true, You’re fixed in place, Held like glue.”
Pogswoth laughed while she sang, and danced around in a little circle, almost tangling in his various ropes. “You thought that would work thrice? That I’d come here only to let you catch me? Sunday, Monday, Tuesday!”
“Let him go.” Jett put every ounce of command into her voice.
“Shit!” Pogswoth’s face contorted with worry. His hand slowly, haltingly, moved towards the cage door. His finger landed on the latch.
Then he giggled and dropped his arm. “I will surely do as you say, and more. I will let the other dreamer go, too, just as soon as you give me Jina. Two for one trade.”
A look of irritation crossed Jett’s face. “Your offering is dross, Pogswoth. I once sacrificed an army of five-hundred to save one person I loved.” She raised her arm, and a breeze picked up.
Jina’s heart fell.
They needed Sandy’s iron.
Since the korrigan had shown up, she’d grown even colder, if such a thing were possible. She grabbed the coffee and chugged the rest down, but it had gone lukewarm. When she tried to set it back on the rail, it slipped from her numb fingers and shattered on the walk.
She glared back at Pogswoth and took the first step down from the porch. Her feet felt leaden, and she realized she had stopped shivering. She found it hard to think, to organize her thoughts.
“You’ve got them all pissing their pants with your iron, Ugly Scarf. It’s nothing more than a rust-collector to me.” At least, that’s what she thought she said.
That’s when she saw Ramón coming up behind him, and felt Jett’s hand on her own shoulder, pulling her back. Jina looked up and saw Jett’s eyes widen when she saw Ramón for the first time.
Ramón hooked his arm around Pogswoth’s neck in a chokehold. There was a clatter and a squeal as the cage fell to the sidewalk, yet the korrigan maintained his grasp on the weapon.
Orven rushed forward in that moment and Jina longed to follow him. But her body felt warm, and the steps looked so cozy.
The troll was at them now. Pogswoth waved the harpoon at Orven to keep him at bay, his aim unsteady.
A desperate look crossed the korrigan’s face, before he gripped the harpoon in both hands and brought it up against Ramón’s head.
Ramón fell.
Orven was on him then, too close for the harpoon to be of any use. At least, not as a spear. The troll raised his arms like tree branches over Pogswoth’s head.
Pogswoth gripped the harpoon as if it were a baseball bat, reeled back, and swung.
Had the rod been made of steel or wood or stone or bronze, Jina was sure it would have merely tickled the giant. Instead, the iron seemed to dent the nykk, leaving a sunken place on Orven’s right side. With a surprised gasp, his knees bent. The ground shook a little as he came down.
Jina roused herself to move, shaking off Jett’s hand. If she remained still, she would fall asleep, and so she put one foot in front of the other down the walk. She felt drunk.
Pogswoth removed a cord from his neck and threw it over Ramón’s head.
It was Trey’s necklace.
No wonder the rooting spell had no effect. And now, Pogswoth hoped to… To what, remove Jett’s protective Arrow from Ramón? If it worked so easily, it could remove faestroke. A bit of iron could save her.
Ramón struggled dizzily to get up. A crow landed on Pogswoth’s head, and another lighted upon the harpoon. The korrigan seemed to be concentrating, and then, frustrated, he raised the harpoon high over the dreamer.
Jina heard the cries of a dozen crows descending, but they did not drown out Ramón’s scream as Pogswoth brought death down into Ramón’s chest.
Jett cried out in despair. She fell to her knees.
He swept off the crows, yet he stood still over Ramón’s body, which lay on the grass strip between the sidewalk and the road. Jina could see little detail in the darkness – it seemed as if the body was shriveling.
By now, five crows perched on Pogswoth. He turned away from the desiccated corpse and beckoned to Jina.
“Told you. I said you’d come to me. Just a little closer.”
Jina lurched forward like a zombie. She almost forgot where she was or what she was doing.
One crow pecked at Pogswoth’s ear and it bled. He shooed it away roughly, and another replaced it. This one aimed for his eye.
“Too slow, time for me to go,” he said. “You’ll come to me some other time.” He danced away like a leprechaun.
“Be careful about going outside!” he sang. “On Sunday, or Monday, or Tuuuesday…”
Jina’s forward momentum carried her to Ramón’s side, where the harpoon stuck out of his chest. All the water, fat, and meat had been sucked right out of him.
Jina knelt and retrieved Trey’s iron from around his neck and put it around her own. The ground was so close. She could just curl up right here.
Orven stood up. He clutched at his side, but he was breathing and walkin
g.
“I need to get him inside,” Fiz said, as the last of the crows fluttered off.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Jina asked, feeling empty inside. “Really gone, as in, not coming back gone.”
“That’s what mortals do,” Orven said sadly. “They die for good.”
Jina tugged at the harpoon, where it stuck all the way through, even into the grass. It resisted, like it didn’t want to leave. The lawn looked like a big downy bed. She lay next to Ramón to join him for a little nap.
CHAPTER 54
*
SANDY WORRIED THAT POGSWOTH would never respond. Either it had all been some nonsensical sham, or Pogswoth was running on world’s time.
In the world’s time, Pogswoth had only been here a day ago. Certainly not enough time to rescue Jina. Maybe when he showed up, he’d have her in tow. It would save an extra step.
She wished he’d hurry. In the past three days, they’d nearly eaten through Trey’s groceries and were back to plain lentils. Fortunately, Trey had thought to bring salt, which was easy to take for granted until you ran out and had to eat things like lentils.
Moreover, she’d rehearsed her speech over and over. You lied to me, she would say. I know you have the power to cure Jina. Do that, and I’ll help you kill Jett.
A knock sounded at the front door. It could only signal good news: A Trey with groceries, an escaped Jina, or an elf-killing korrigan.
One of her wishes came true. Pogswoth looked tired, bedraggled, and his ear was bleeding. And he’d brought a bottle of Glenlivet. Sandy licked her lips and nearly forgot about her speech.
“What happened to your ear?”
His voice sounded as bedraggled as he looked, more gravely than ever. “She did this to me. When I tried to rescue Jina. Set an army of ravens loose at me. Bloody dark vermin.”
If she’d been there, a couple of shotguns would have evened the odds. She should have made a deal with him in the first place, without all this waiting for him to prove his goodwill.
Sandy remembered herself. “Let’s talk. Same place.” She motioned out back.