by Kim Harrison
“Deal,” Hodin said, and then I gasped as he wrapped his will around me and threw me into the ley line. I would have taught you how to fly for nothing came his thought into mine, somehow giving me the impression of a matte-finish blade of iron.
I would have given you the baku for the same, I thought back.
And then we were there, safe in my church.
CHAPTER
34
“I’m last!” Jenks shrilled, an angry white-hot dust spilling as he hovered before an ear-drooping but unrepentant Bis. “I’m always last! How many times do we have to go over this?”
“It was thirty seconds,” the small gargoyle said, his thick gray lips trying not to smile.
“Do you know how much trouble she can get into in thirty seconds?” Jenks said before spinning in the air and darting up into the open rafters to sulk.
Trent sidled close, his gaze coming back from the construction-equipment-strewn sanctuary lit by one of Ivy’s old floor lamps. “I do,” he said as he slipped an arm around me and tugged me into him. “I don’t think he’s traveled by line before,” he said, attention going to Landon.
The elf didn’t look good, huddled and trembling on the floor as he tried to process what had just happened. Traveling the lines was rough if you weren’t expecting it. Up until the last few months, such journeys were usually one-way—straight to a living hell as a demon’s familiar.
Suck it up, Mr. Dewar man, I thought as Trent went to check on him. The baby bottle was an uncomfortable bump in my pocket, and I took it out, setting it on the denuded pool table beside one of the glyphs. Bis rose in a pulse of sliding leather to sit next to Jenks in the rafters, clearly trying to smooth things over. Zack was staring at the six pentagons on the pool table, a hand at his slim waist and his youthful features creased in study. Hodin fidgeted, probably trying to decide if he wanted to explain it to him or leave the kid in ignorance.
I sighed as the peace of the place slipped into me, leaning back against the pool table with my ankles crossed. As messed up as it was, smelling of construction dust instead of coffee, filled with tools and lumber instead of my things, it still felt like home.
But my expression fell as I saw the head of the dewar paralyzed on my sanctuary floor. I’ve got to stop doing this.
“You said you were going to fix the table,” I said, and Hodin turned from Zack.
“Now?” One by one, Hodin pushed all the rings on his right hand to the base of his fingers. “We might need a quick spelling surface.”
“Lazy ass,” I said, but he was right, and I began to wipe one side of it clean with a rag.
“This is abduction,” Landon said, panting as he recovered. “You forced me through the lines! You will rot for this, Kalamack.”
Which I thought was funny, because Trent hadn’t done it. Finished, I tossed the rag into the waste barrel and scooted up atop the table to sit cross-legged. “So . . . how do we get the baku out?”
Jenks dropped down from the rafters to stand before Landon. “Let’s knock it out of him,” the pixy said, and Landon sneezed on his dust. “There’s lots of two-by-fours.”
“It won’t leave voluntarily.” Hodin looked sage in his black jeans and T, a wise-biker-dude-demon vibe on him. “You have to convince Landon to kick it out.”
“That’s not happening.” I stared as the frustrated man choked and trembled, smearing his dewar robes with sawdust as he tried to break the curse holding him.
Hodin’s lips pressed. “I think we’re very close to where he won’t be able to anymore.”
“I control it.” Landon’s hate-filled eyes found mine. “I can kick it out anytime I want.”
“Prove it,” I said, channeling my inner sixth-grader, and Zack gave up on the pool table scribbles and went to stand beside Trent.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Landon struggled. “You are finished, Kalamack. I will hound you and your children’s children. I will live through the ages as a plague upon your house.”
“Tink’s tampons. He’s monologing,” Jenks muttered from Trent’s shoulder.
“But for you, we’ll start with abducting a high priest,” Landon continued. “Transferring without consent through the lines. The damage to the undercroft alone will bankrupt you.”
Bis dropped down to land on the sawhorse. “It’s just a hole under the church.”
“For the last time,” Trent said, brow furrowed, “I’m not destitute. I have money.”
I slid off the pool table and sashayed over to Landon. “How can we catch it if he won’t kick it out?” I asked.
“Pull out his soul,” Zack whispered, and Jenks’s wings rasped in surprise as I turned to Zack. The kid’s eyes looked haunted, and his face was pale. “With a soul spiral,” he added, looking at Trent. “Take out his soul, and the baku will be forced to follow.”
My lips parted. True, but without a soul, Landon would be dead in five minutes. You could get around that by putting his soul in a bottle and keeping his body alive on life support as Trent had done with me. It would work on paper. The only reason the demons didn’t do it was because it required elven magic, and they would rather die than ask the Goddess for help. Me? I wasn’t so picky.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jenks said from Trent’s shoulder. “Won’t Landon die without a soul? Not that I care, but the I.S. or the dewar might.”
“Not right away,” Hodin said, and Zack nodded, solemn and scared.
“You wouldn’t,” Landon whispered, his fear obvious on his sweat-tracked, sawdust-caked face. “That curse isn’t supposed to be used until I’m dead. I’m not dead!” He wiggled, random bits of glass catching the faint light, and I nudged him back into place before turning to Trent, my eyebrows high.
“How does Zack know about the soul spiral?” I accused, and both Trent and Zack flushed. “We agreed that the dewar’s curse to move souls was going to die with us.”
Trent grimaced. “I didn’t tell him how to do the curse. I told him how I used it to save your life. A lesson on how something inherently bad can be used for a good reason and outcome.”
I shook my head, agreeing with Jenks. “No. Killing Landon is bad,” I said. “Even to catch the baku. And that’s what we’re going to get if we pull his soul out.”
“Not if he’s at the center of the spiral,” Zack said, and Hodin nodded.
“I’m alive!” Landon said, his voice echoing in the empty space. “I’m still alive!”
Yeah? And so is that baby you want to drop your soul into. “Then kick it out,” I said, and he gaped at me, his eyes round with fear.
“I can’t,” he whispered, and Trent gestured as if that said it all and why were we waiting?
“It would work, wouldn’t it?” Zack inched closer, his eyes on Landon. “If you pull his soul out, the baku will come with it. You can catch the baku, and Landon’s soul will be snared by the soul spiral and land back in his body before he can die.”
Breath shaking, I turned to Trent. He was clearly ready to try it, eyes alight and eager.
“That might actually work,” Hodin said from the pool table, and Zack bobbed his head.
“I’ll take the responsibility if it goes wrong,” Zack said, and both Trent and I stiffened. “It was my idea,” Zack insisted. “With Landon compromised, I’m the dewar leader. It’s my decision.”
“You’re going to kill me!” Landon said, desperate now, and I almost felt sorry for him. Eyebrows high, I studied Trent. He’d be the one doing the magic. Though with Hodin’s curse linking us, I’d probably walk away with a good knowledge of how to do it.
“I’ll sketch the spiral,” Trent said, the glint in his eye making him look dangerous. “If Landon is at the end of it, he’ll get his soul back, sans baku. If it fails, Zack will not take the blame. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Pulse fast, I took the chalk from my pock
et, snapped it in two and gave him the larger piece. Damn it, we were doing it again. “There’s enough room where he is. Three turns, widdershins,” I said, but Trent knew how to do this as well as I. It was just nerves, and as Zack grabbed a broom, I found my phone and texted Ivy that she might need to bail Trent, Zack, and me out of the I.S. lockup tonight if she didn’t hear from me by three.
“This is murder!” Landon exclaimed, and Jenks hovered beside Trent, advising him on how to keep his lines even. “You are murdering me! I can’t survive without my soul!”
“It’s only a few minutes,” I said to Landon. “Suck it up. Next time don’t make deals with energy beings.”
Landon moaned, terrified as the reality of the next five minutes hit him.
Nervous, I tucked my phone away. Zack moved the sawhorse out of Trent’s way, and Bis, still standing on it, unfolded his wings and shivered at the rumble echoing through him.
“Can you catch it by yourself, Rachel?” Trent asked as he worked, bent double as he drew his unhurried even lines. “It’s going to take all my concentration to do the curse.”
I nodded, pulse quickening. Catch it, bottle it, and then try to explain to the world why Landon was dead in my church if it didn’t work.
But when I saw Trent with chalk on his fingers and magic in his hair, something tightened in me. Hodin stood by the pool table, eager to get his baku but clearly not going to do anything to help. His interest was a little too keen for my liking. Great, I’m teaching him something new. For free.
“Jenks?” I called, and the pixy zipped over, his expression cheerful at the prospect of killing Landon, even if only for a short time. “Take Zack and get out of here,” I said in a whisper, and Hodin snickered. “I mean it,” I added when Jenks’s dust shifted to an angry red. “Get him on a bus. Take him to the movies, or our boat, or something.”
“My wing is fine,” Jenks said bitingly.
His wing was not fine, but it was his pride that was going to get him killed, and I needed him. “Please,” I added, glancing at Hodin. “I don’t want Zack seeing this. The ability to pull a soul from a living being should end with the people in this room. And if he’s somewhere else, he won’t get blamed for any of it. Besides, you want him here if the I.S. or the FIB shows up?” God help us if the Order crashed the party.
Jenks spun in the air to see Zack doggedly pushing that broom, looking like the younger brother Trent had never had. “Fine,” he muttered. “Troll turds, first I’m guarding the church, and now I’m the fairy-ass babysitter.”
Dusting a depressed blue, he flew to Zack. “Zack. Let’s go. Rachel wants you out of here.”
“What?” Zack spun, the broom going still in his hands. “Why? It’s the dewar’s curse.”
“You want this to end? End it,” I said as I turned to Hodin. “I’d like you to leave, too. You aren’t getting the baku until I can fly with Bis.”
“A snowflake’s chance in the ever-after,” the demon said, laughing. He was in too good a mood for my liking. But why not? He was about to get the baku and my promise that I’d stand up for him against the demon collective both. I was getting . . . a lot of trouble. Maybe this wasn’t such a good deal after all.
Trent stood from finishing the spiral, silent at Zack’s betrayed look. Finally the kid threw down the broom and schlumped out the front door, slamming it hard behind him.
Jenks went with him, and I sighed, praying that he and Zack really left and didn’t hang around outside to peer through the window. Then I jumped, startled when Bis flew to me with a rustle of leather wings. “Thanks for that,” he said as he landed on my shoulder and wrapped his tail snugly. “He’s my best friend apart from you,” he added, and I touched his feet.
“You can’t do this,” Landon said, voice panicky. “It will kill me. Please!”
“It’s ready.” Trent bent to get the broom, carefully setting it to the side before looking at the three-ring spiral that began and ended at magnetic north. “Rachel, I’m thinking we need a circle around Landon and the spiral.”
“To keep everything contained? Good idea,” I said, and Bis went back to perch beside Hodin when I bent almost double to draw a larger circle around the spiral.
“You can’t do this,” Landon said as I passed him. “I’m the dewar’s leader!”
Not anymore. Worry puddled up in my gut like black tar as I rose. “You getting all of this?” I sourly said to Hodin, and the demon beamed at me.
“Let me go,” Landon begged, trembling to make the bits of broken glass on him twinkle. “I’ll kick it out. We can come to some understanding. I won’t file any charges. That was the baku, not me. You were right. It was dangerous, but I can kick it out. Rachel? Rachel! Listen to me!”
I looked away, gut souring. Trent had taken a purple ribbon from his wallet, carefully smoothing the creases before draping it over his neck. The small elven embellishment turned him from wealthy businessman into something dangerous, and my breath quickened.
“You pull souls from the living often?” Hodin said as he inched closer.
“Not because I want to,” I said, then jumped when Trent took my hand. His hair was staticky and his eyes were bright. Chalk decorated his fingers, making him far away and distant from his usual boardroom calm. He was again my warlord elf, and I loved him for it.
Feeling it, he gave my fingers an encouraging squeeze, then moved to stand at magnetic north. I eyed the spiral uneasily. It had an enormous pull once invoked by memory and will . . . by drum and song.
“No hat,” Trent said, flashing me a nervous smile as he touched his magic-staticky hair to smooth it. “But I think the Goddess will help anyway. She loves to make mischief.”
And this is mischief with a capital M, I thought as Trent closed his eyes and began a humming drone.
The ancient sound hit me like a warm wave, shocking and unexpected. I stared at him, my palms suddenly sweaty. I flicked a glance at Hodin to see if he noticed, flushing when he did.
Landon’s groan became a whimper, his eyes widening as the spiral began to glow with a faint stirring of ley line power. It pulled through me, tingles rising as I experienced the curse through both my senses and Trent’s, thanks to Hodin’s curse.
Tall and unmoving, Trent stood, his lips and chest moving as he breathed out the primordial sound. It spilled from him, at odds with his upright posture, soil-stained suit, and even the new scruff on his cheeks. I backed up, steeling myself against the curse-born pull of his voice. I’d always loved Trent’s voice, but this time, it was the curse that drew me. I was more susceptible to it than most, having been lost to it once before.
“You can’t do this to me!” Landon cried out, terror clouding his eyes and making his voice raspy. “I am the dewar!”
Trent’s voice shifted to a droning chant. I could almost discern the words. They flitted like moths about my thoughts, and I tried to ignore them, feeling that if I listened too closely, I’d be lost. His words pushed the spiral into a brighter, pearly white light, and breath fast, I backed up another wobbly step. To touch the spiral now would have meant my death.
My fingers rose to touch Hodin’s glyph warm on my chest. It joined me dangerously close to Trent’s magic. It was as if the walls of the church were melting away, leaving me in a haze of a midnight I’d never seen but remembered through the curse he was twisting.
And then . . . the memory of drums began.
Landon groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he began to shake. The ancient sound wasn’t real. It was an echo from the past, pulled into existence by Trent’s voice reaching into distant history to find the original curse. It spoke of hidden mossy glens where ley lines ran, of star-filled nights with no moon, and of the elves who gathered to pool their magic into angry, aggressive, terrible deeds. It was a power so great that it had been lost to save the world. And as the drums beat into me, I was there
. I was seeing it. I could smell the grass soft under my feet, feel the wind that made the leaves whisper, sense the power of the earth making me one with it.
I floundered as the power wrapped itself around me, making me less, and more, demanding I let go, and move on. Become something else. Become one with death.
My heart stuttered to match the drum’s beat. Frightened, I backed up, right into Hodin.
His hand wrapped around my biceps, holding me firm. “You’ve walked the spiral once and survived,” he said, as if not having believed me before, and I nodded, attention fixed to the glowing lines coaxing me forward to my death. I didn’t care if he knew I was scared.
I’d felt this before. The lure was unmistakable. The drums were in my head and heart, the beat familiar as they tried to force my pulse to match it. I struggled to keep my breathing uneven and random, anything to be at odds with the force Trent was creating. He’d done this to me once in love to give my body time to mend on life support, and my eyes went to the baby bottle still on the pool table as Trent’s song soaked into me, a muzzy warmth promising succor, an end to strife. It would grant me everything if I listened.
“Never,” I whispered. I wasn’t done yet. I had no rest waiting for me.
“Rachel?” Bis said, red eyes wide. And when our gazes met, he flew to me. I sagged in relief as his feet clamped about my shoulder, his light weight and sharp nails grounding me. With a shocking ping, the haze in my mind was gone and the drums were silent.
“Thank you, Bis,” I said as I risked a glance up at Hodin standing behind me.
“Get me out of here. No. No!” Landon begged, shrieking in fear when his skin began to glow—his soul was leaving him. “Please, no!” he cried. “Let me out! I’ll stop trying to bring down Trent. I’ll leave you alone. I’ll make a retraction. Anything!”
But it was too late, and I swallowed, glad I stood between Hodin and Bis as Trent twisted his terrible magic. Thank God Zack isn’t here, I thought as Landon began to scream in agony as his soul was pulled from him—alive.