“Nice kitty,” Garrett said, a hint of laughter in his voice. He looked down at Celine. “And you’re Celine from no place in particular.” He clasped her hand briefly as well, then turned back to Corbbmacc.
“I guess I’d better get you lot to the safe house. Paige is scouting tonight, but she’ll be back in a couple of hours, and she’ll want to see you.”
He turned and lumbered away into the darkness, picking his way through the rocks.
“Garrett?” Corbbmacc called after him.
The big man stopped and turned back, waiting.
“How’s Mona?”
There was a brief silence, and Emily sensed the strain of some old and precarious truce as it loomed between these two men.
Garrett sighed. It was a resigned sound, and some of the jocularity left his voice. “She’s fine. She’ll be happy to see you, Corbb.” He turned away again and led them into the dark.
* * *
Emily stood with the others, huddled together halfway down an alley in the shadow of a tall building. They’d left the fires and the stench behind them, and the streets here at the south end of Hellsgate were largely deserted and silent. They’d skirted the edge of town to get here, and Emily had only caught brief glimpses of dark figures flitting between the fires that blazed on. What were they burning, she wondered, and why?
Garrett fumbled with a lock, muttering to himself, and at last a narrow door swung inward and they stumbled inside.
Emily blinked against the bright light of a pair of lanterns hanging at either end of a narrow hall. The walls and floor were paneled with old and scuffed wood, but the house seemed relatively clean, considering the soot and ash that covered everything outside. Incense filled the air, masking the remains of the smell of smoke and decay. Old and yellowing paper peeled from the walls, but the effect was one of pleasant antiquity, in sharp contrast to the neglect of the rest of the city outside.
Emily turned as Garrett closed the door and saw that he’d already pulled down the scarf that had been wound around his face. She felt her heart leap into her throat.
There was nothing at all human about Garrett. His flesh was covered in shiny blue-green scales that gleamed like gems. His face was dominated by a long, lizard-like snout, and a series of bony ridges ran up from between his eyes in a straight line over the crown of his head. His eyes were black and slanted along the angle of his nose, and two small holes on either side of his head, which Emily supposed must be his ears, opened and closed spasmodically.
She took a step backward, all thoughts of Garrett’s friendly demeanor gone. Her hand dropped to her sword, and she opened her mouth to shout a warning to the others.
Corbbmacc stepped between her and Garrett, and he looked up into his reptilian face without any sign of discomfort.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s good to see you again, too. You’re looking good, old man.” Behind him, Rascal leapt from Celine’s shoulders, spread his wings, and glided gracefully down to the floor.
“It’s been too long,” Garrett said, watching Emily over Corbbmacc’s shoulder. It was strange hearing that good-natured voice issue from a mouth lined with dozens of razor-sharp teeth.
She tensed, her gaze flicking between Corbbmacc’s unconcerned expression and Garrett’s strange features.
Celine laid a hand on top of Emily’s, holding the sword still in its sheath. Emily gave her a sideways glance and found the other girl smiling slightly, the strip of Corbbmacc’s tunic now pushed down around her neck.
“I don’t think Emily of the little Mini Apples has seen someone like me before,” Garrett said easily, winking at Emily with one of those depthless, soulless eyes.
Corbbmacc turned to look at her.
“S’okay, Em,” Celine said.
“Okay,” Emily said, closing her eyes and willing her heart to slow. “Okay…okay…I can deal with this.”
“Course yeh can. Yeh survived a tree trying to disembowel yer innards, didn’t yeh? I reckon yeh can ’andle just ’bout anythin’.”
She opened her eyes again, looking into Garrett’s strange cold ones.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling heat in her face. “And I actually have seen someone like you once, but not up close.”
Garrett struck a pose that would not have been out of place on the cover of one of Casey’s fashion magazines.
“Well, now you can take me in at your leisure in all my stunning glory!” He leaned against the wall beside the door. “In all seriousness, we’re not all that common these days. Dying out, you see.”
Emily didn’t know what to say. ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem adequate. She looked away, feeling her flesh crawl under that reptilian gaze.
She was spared the need to say anything at all, as Corbbmacc turned back to face Garrett.
“Who’s here at the moment?”
“At the moment, just the usual lot…plus Mona and me.”
“Mona’s here? Why isn’t she at home? Where is she?”
Not waiting for an answer, Corbbmacc turned and strode down the hall. Garrett didn’t move, and Emily wasn’t sure whether to follow Corbbmacc deeper into the house or stay in Garrett’s uncomfortable presence. She felt like an actress suddenly dropped on stage without any lines.
“Not that way, Corbb,” Garrett said, a resigned note in his tone.
Corbbmacc stopped. He did not turn to look at them, but only spoke to the lantern on the wall in front of him.
“What do you mean, ‘not this way’?” he asked. His tone was perfectly flat.
Garrett sighed. He glanced at Emily, but the expression on his strange features was totally unreadable to her. Still, there was no mistaking the weariness in his voice.
“She’s downstairs, Corbb. Thought you would’ve figured it out by now.”
Silence spun out between them for a moment, then Corbbmacc stormed back up the hall toward Garrett, his fists raised. Rascal took flight to avoid being trodden on and came to rest at Celine’s feet with an irritable hiss.
There was never any real danger to Garrett’s face. He waited until the last possible moment, then reached up with one gloved hand and caught Corbbmacc’s fist in his palm before it broke his jaw. His other hand closed around Corbbmacc’s wrist, and the two men stared at one another, hands locked together like a pair of the most unlikely dancers.
“Easy, Corbb. You had to know this would happen sooner or later, right? I mean, you’re not an idiot.” He paused. “You’re not, right?”
Corbbmacc fumed, struggling to free his arms. His face was blotchy, and Emily was taken aback by the wild look in his ordinarily controlled expression.
“It’s not right!” he spat at Garrett through clenched teeth. “You know it.”
“Garrett?”
A woman’s voice came to them from deeper inside the house. It was high, sweet, and brimming with excitement.
“Is that Corbbmacc? Bring him down here!”
At the sound of the voice, Corbbmacc stopped struggling. The two men looked at one another for a moment longer, then Corbbmacc turned and headed down toward the opposite end of the hall. Garrett let him go.
He shrugged to himself, gave Emily what might have been an apologetic look as easily as a murderous one, and hurried after Corbbmacc.
Emily and Celine looked at one another.
“Should we…” Celine looked uncertainly after the boys.
“Probably better than waiting for someone to find us here,” Emily said. She thought of the look in Corbbmacc’s eyes and wondered if that was true.
She started after Garrett. Celine grabbed Michael’s hand and dragged him along behind them as Rascal flapped up to perch on her shoulder. Somehow, Emily reflected, the kitsper didn’t seem so bad anymore.
She turned a corner, and a set of stairs led down into an underground level. Garrett had just reached the bottom when Emily started down.
“Wait up,” she called to him, and Garrett paused, looking over his shoulder at her. He was full of ner
vous energy, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet like a ludicrously overgrown child. She forced herself not to look away. In this world, he was just another person. Who cared what he looked like?
As Emily caught up with him, Corbbmacc’s voice came from down the passage to their right.
“Shit…shit shit shit!” He sounded on the edge of hysteria.
Garrett sighed again. “I knew it was going to be like this,” he said to Emily as Celine and Michael joined them at the bottom of the stairs. “He’s never been happy about…”
He let his words trail off as he led them down another hall. Awkwardly, they gathered in the doorway of a small bed chamber.
Lanterns flanked a tiny bed, by the side of which Corbbmacc knelt, staring at the room’s only occupant.
Propped up against a pile of pillows lay a woman who could only have been Corbbmacc’s sister. She was perhaps five or six years older than her brother, but the similarities in their features were startling. She, too, could have been a movie star in another world. Her hair fanned out across the pillows on either side of her face, and she all but glowed in the golden light. She looked like a Renaissance painter’s vision of an angel.
The contrast of this beauty amidst the hellish cityscape outside was breathtaking, and Emily’s heart broke a little with the weight of it.
A moment passed before her gaze drifted down from the woman’s face and took in the rest of her form. A coverlet was drawn up to her waist, and she wore a loose sleeveless top.
Cradled in her arms was a tiny bundle wrapped in a soft blanket. She held it to her breast with all the tenderness of any new mother. As they watched, a small hand reached out from between the folds and touched the woman’s chin with long, delicate fingers that were covered in blue-green scales and tipped with tiny black claws. She laughed and rocked the infant gently.
Garrett stepped into the room, then motioned for Emily and the others to follow.
“This is my wife Mona,” he said, “and our new son.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily fingered the hilt of her sword awkwardly. Corbbmacc was still kneeling beside the bed, his head in his hands. He hadn’t spoken since they’d come in. Garrett had gone to sit on the edge of the bed beside his wife and had taken her hand tenderly into his own. Monstrous countenance or not, there was no mistaking the warmth with which he looked at her and the newborn.
Mona, apparently immune to the tension in the room, had eyes only for her son. She sat, rocking him in the crook of one arm and cooing under her breath.
The only parts of the babe Emily could see from where she stood were the tips of the ridges that crowned his head and his tiny scaled hand. As she watched, he reached up and caught hold of a lock of his mother’s golden hair, tugging on it with surprising strength, far outside the range of normal, human infants. A strange conflict of emotions raged inside her. She was touched by the obvious love she saw in the new parents’ eyes, yet repelled by the reptilian fingers, each tipped with a wickedly sharp claw, that entangled themselves in Mona’s hair. Would those glistening scales be warm or cold to the touch? How could such a creature born of two such different parents exist at all?
Celine tugged on her arm, and she looked around. The girl raised her eyebrows. The question was plain enough. Should they go? Emily felt like an intruder in this scene of family drama. She wished someone would tell her to go somewhere else while it unfolded. She didn’t relish the idea of wandering aimlessly around the unfamiliar house either, though.
Over Celine’s shoulder, she could see Michael, staring blithely into an empty corner of the room. His eyes moved rapidly back and forth, as if he were tracking something only he could see.
She looked down at Corbbmacc’s bowed head. There were clearly unresolved issues here. Maybe they should go and wait outside in the hall until whatever was going to happen, well, happened.
She nodded at Celine and turned to leave, but Mona’s voice stopped her.
“Oh, don’t go. Corbbmacc will get over himself in a bit. Please stay. Garrett, move over and make room for them.”
“Mona, ” Garret protested, “you need…”
“Oh, shush. I’m fine. Move over.”
Garrett sighed and straightened, shifting his bulk to make space for Emily and Celine along the edge of the bed.
This was intensely uncomfortable. They didn’t even know these people. Emily glanced back at Celine for help, but the other girl only shrugged, nearly dislodging Rascal from his perch, and sank down onto the corner of the bed.
Emily stood, uncertain, wishing she was anywhere else in the world. An image of a bright blue eye staring out of a tree trunk filled her mind for a moment, and she smiled wryly to herself. Okay, maybe not anywhere—but it was a near thing.
“Please,” Mona said again. “It’s been so long since I met anyone new. At least, anyone new worth talking to.”
Her voice was so gentle and sincere that Emily couldn’t find it in her heart to refuse. Awkwardly, she stepped around Corbbmacc’s motionless form and sat on the very edge of the bed between Garrett and Celine. Her gaze settled on Corbbmacc’s hunched shoulders, but his continued silence was painfully unsettling. Looking at him was like intruding on something intensely private.
She twisted around to look at the babe in Mona’s arms instead. His hand had mercifully disappeared into the folds of the blanket, and all she could see was a tiny shape in the woman’s arms. He could have been anyone’s baby, perfectly human.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Mona said, her gaze returning to the bundle against her breast.
The only bits of the child Emily had seen were his clawed hand and the bony ridges peeking out from the folds of the blanket. Judging by these, though, she thought that “beautiful” might be taking the notion that love was blind to hitherto unimagined heights.
“Uh…yeah…sure, he is,” Emily stammered, when it was plain that Mona was waiting for a response.
Rascal leapt down from Celine’s shoulders and onto the bed beside Mona. He sat back on his haunches, staring unblinkingly at mother and child with his wide silver-gray eyes.
“’Ave yeh named ’im then?” Celine asked, stroking the fur between Rascal’s ears.
“Not yet,” Garrett said, leaning over his wife to get a better look at the infant. “It’s the custom of my tribe to wait a day before naming our children. The time is supposed to give the parents a chance to choose one that suits him. He was only born this morning, so we will…”
Garrett was interrupted by a long, low mewing that made Emily jump. She glanced down and saw Rascal standing on all four paws, his fur bushed out and his tail held high over his partly spread wings. He was staring at Mona, and as she watched, he let out another cry. It was long, plaintive, and eerily human.
“Rascal!” Celine soothed. “Stop that now.” She scooped him up in her arms and pulled him into her lap. The kitsper let out one last distressed cry, then settled down and allowed Celine to stroke him once again, though his eyes never left Mona and the baby.
“Are you done moping, Corbb?” Mona asked suddenly, entirely ignoring the activity around her. She had torn her eyes away from the bundle, and they were now boring holes into the top of Corbbmacc’s bowed head.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she said, a familiar bite of impatience in her voice that Emily had heard in Corbbmacc’s on several occasions.
The words, or perhaps the tone, got Corbbmacc’s attention, and he raised his head at last to look at his sister.
“Ridiculous? Me? Mona, what would Mom and Dad have said?”
“They liked Garrett,” Mona said, and the words had the dull and lifeless quality of lines that have been rehearsed a thousand times before. “You know they did.”
“They liked him,” Corbbmacc said. “That doesn’t mean they’d have wanted you to marry him.”
“They’d be happy for us. I want you to be happy for us.”
“But just…just look at that…that thing,” he said,
his whole body shaking, though whether it was rage, or fear, or disgust, Emily could not tell. Sure, it was a strange kid, but he seemed to be overreacting. It was plain, even in just the few minutes they’d been in this room, that Garrett doted on his wife and was proud of his son.
“No, Corbb,” Mona snapped, “you look.” She drew her hand away from Garrett’s and gently turned the bundle to face them. The blanket fell away, and Emily got her first good look at Garrett’s and Mona’s son.
The infant had Garrett’s blue-green scales, and very similar, if less pronounced, ridges running from his forehead and up toward the top of his head, but the resemblance with his father ended there. Fine blonde hair covered his head on either side of the ridges, and his nose and ears had a perfectly ordinary shape to them.
But despite this strange mesh of features, it was the boy’s face that stunned Emily speechless and caused Celine to let out an audible gasp beside her. The boy was the spitting image of Corbbmacc in miniature.
Emily tore her eyes away to look at Corbbmacc. He’d rocked back on his heels, apparently every bit as dumbstruck as she was herself. It might’ve been funny at another time—in another place.
“He’s part of me,” Mona said, her voice softening again as she stared at her brother. “And so are you. Please, Corbb…be happy for us.”
There was the sound of rustling cloth at the chamber door, and they all turned to look as one.
A figure was there, draped in a long black cloak. He stood in the shadows just beyond the bright light of the lanterns, nearly invisible against the gloom of the passage behind him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt this…touching moment,” the figure said, and his voice was a hoarse whisper that sounded like dry leaves in an autumn wind. “But Paige has just arrived, and she wants to see our…” he paused just long enough to infuse the next word with a touch of sarcasm, “…guests.”
* * *
With promises to return before retiring for the night, Emily, Celine, and the boys followed the cloaked figure through the quiet corridors of the house. Their guide moved soundlessly, his footfalls eerily absent as he deftly avoided the light of lanterns that hung from the walls.
Haven Lost Page 24