But I held on to it. I wanted that sky, that air, that space.
I think it was him, just him, holding between me and the magic around us, giving me space, giving me what I needed so I could get through this. So I could stand strong when all the world was falling around me.
“The well,” he said, or maybe thought. It was hard to tell over the strangely muted sounds of the fight, of the curses and litany of spells all around us.
“Only one spell,” he said.
And then he was gone. His heat, his strength, his steady hand. And all the blue of my sky.
But that respite he had given me had been enough. I no longer felt like I was trapped, boxed in, suffocating. I felt like I was going to get this done so we could get out of here.
We jogged the last few paces across the living room and down the slightly curving hallway to the little room.
I didn’t like that little room. Painful things had happened to me there.
Right now, I didn’t have time to care about that either.
Shame kicked the door, then stumbled back, hopping on one foot. “Son of a bitch!”
Terric tried the handle, then rammed his shoulder into the door, which burst open. We rushed in, then through the opposite door to another space. Zay took point and Collins lingered behind, walking backward and talking to himself—no, reciting a poem…“The Raven” by Poe; I realized he’d been reciting it during the entire fight—watching our backs.
The room with the Faith well was fairly small. It didn’t have a high arcing ceiling like the other well rooms. It was a solidly built space, with wooden walls carved in a scattering of symbols, beautiful in their simplicity. It was serene here, a place suited for meditation. There were even lit candles burning in a row on the low shelves built across each wall.
In the center of the room was the well. It didn’t appear to be closed…which was good news as far as I was concerned.
But then I looked at it again and realized there was a finely etched glass floor worked over much of the center of the room and directly over the well. Magic shifted, flickering in tones of blue and gold and setting opalescent fire to the glyphs in the glass above it.
“It’s…” Beautiful didn’t seem like enough. “Amazing,” I finally said.
No one was paying any attention to me.
“Drop the Shield.” Zay’s voice was a crack of command.
Shame and Terric stopped chanting and took a step away from each other, then another step, in synch, fingers stretching to the floor, releasing the magic they had used back into the well.
The Shield fell around us like gossamer threads, collecting in a wispy pile at our feet and ankles, before melting into the floor.
“Shame, open the damn thing,” Zay said. “Terric, close it. Allie, one spell. One.” He held up his finger just in case I’d forgotten how much one was.
“Collins,” Zayvion said, “watch them. Ground them. Hell, knock them all out if you have to. Keep them safe.”
“You have my word,” Collins said.
Then Zay started toward the door we’d just come through.
“Wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”
“We’re in the middle of a war,” he said. “I’m not going to stand by and watch my people die either.”
He jogged out of the room.
Past me.
Gone.
No.
I couldn’t do this without him.
Yes, Dad said, sounding a whole lot stronger and clearer than just moments before. You can. And so can I. We play our part, or his sacrifice will be for naught.
Sacrifice? The hell he’s going to sacrifice anything.
I tramped toward the door. Then my feet weren’t working. I was standing very, very still. I was no longer in control of my body. Dad was.
We all play our part, Allison. From the moment we take our first breath, and until the day of our last exhalation. Our part, your part, is to stay here. With me. With Stone. To purify the well. To use that single spell to the best of our ability. Then we’ll let fate fall where it may.
Shame was finishing the Open spell. The glass floor cracked like ice, each of the glyphs smoking and heating and burning outward until the glass appeared to have melted back out of the way so that the well was there, open, accessible. It wasn’t nearly as dark as the other wells.
Maybe setting the purification spells in the other wells was making a difference. Or maybe this well hadn’t been as tainted as the others.
I still wanted to go to Zay. I could hear the cries and his commands over the voices of the other people out there.
But I didn’t go to him. Instead, I did what my father said. I turned my back on my lover and set myself to the job at hand.
Chapter Thirteen
“Done,” Shame panted. Tendrils of smoke rose from the disk in his hand. The dark magic around him reached toward the well with hungry fingers, snapping back before actually touching it.
Shame turned his back on the well with what looked like effort and walked the very narrow glass path that spun out like a crystal brick road over the well to where the rest of us stood against one wall on a wide band of solid wood.
He fixed me with a look. Not a lot of green in that gaze. Just hungry, dangerous blackness. He licked his lips and smiled. “Your turn, Beckstrom.”
I glanced around for Stone. He was pacing behind us nearest the wall, wings up, head down. Snarling at the sounds of the fight in the other room.
“Stone,” I called.
He came to me.
Collins took a step forward too.
“I don’t think there’s room for all of us on that path,” I said.
Collins’ eyes narrowed behind his glasses. He nodded once. “I can cast from here.”
Stone walked behind me as I took the glass path.
I’m not afraid of heights. However, the path was only about a foot wide, made of glass, and the well swirling beneath me was something that Shame had once told me would kill me fast if I ever fell in.
Who designed this thing?
It’s an older approach, Dad said. Originally capped by interlocking wooden boards that could be moved by pulley. That was destroyed in a fire. An artist in the industrial age replaced it with glass and lead. He was experimenting with art, magic, and the possibility of creating a public feed from the well, much like the networks we now have.
Wow, ask a question and get a history lesson.
The path seemed to be getting narrower the closer I came to the center of the room.
It doesn’t, Dad said. But you are close enough.
Good, because I was starting to remember that I completely sucked at the balance beam back in grade school.
Be careful, I said to Dad, but make it fast.
I will make it right, Allison. No matter how long that takes.
He stood beside me at the front of my mind. Even though neither of us were physical in any real manner in my head, I got the sense that if he’d been physical, he’d look like he’d just been hit by a bus. I sensed pain, breaks, and bruises from him.
One of the things about sharing a mind with someone was that they pretty much knew what you knew. He felt my awareness of his pain. Then that pain was gone, replaced by a convincing illusion of him standing strong, perhaps bored, but plenty able to handle magic.
You don’t have to put on a show for me, I said. I know what magic is doing to us.
Did I raise you to give up so easily?
I’m not giving up. I’m stating the facts.
You don’t have the facts, Allison. Not all of them. Not enough of them. And I would appreciate it if you were quiet so I could concentrate on this spell.
Had he just told me to shut up? In my own head?
I hated being possessed.
But I kept my opinion to myself.
“Begin, Eli,” Dad said. “Faith magic, of course.”
Collins got busy with drawing on the disk in his hand.
Dad called the mag
ic out of Stone.
Me? I kept myself distracted by trying not to scream in agony.
A new spell and new glyphs burned to life across Stone’s body.
Maybe it was pretty. I couldn’t tell. Couldn’t even hear Dad anymore. I was surrounded by pain.
I wanted out of my body. Out of my head. Dad could have it. Have my brain and body if he would make the pain end.
I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t feel anything but the pain. I didn’t know if Dad had finished the spell and combined it with the magic from the disk or if he had just begun casting. I didn’t know if I was standing anymore.
It felt like I was falling.
Everything went black.
Allison! Dad yelled, his voice a slap across my mind.
I opened my eyes.
Holy shit. I was falling, backward, tipping off the path. I reached out to catch myself but was too slow.
I felt that sickening slip of solid ground pulling away from my boots.
And then two rock-hard hands grabbed under my arms and yanked on me. Hard.
It took me a second or three, longer than I’d like to admit, to figure out what the hell was happening. The room seemed to be swaying as it fell away from me. The ceiling was getting awfully close.
A grumble over my shoulder, and I finally put two and two together.
Stone had caught me. Stone’s hands were under my arms, lifting me up, flying me back away from the well.
“Good boy,” I said, or tried to say. I think all that came out was a croak.
I felt scorched. Burned from the inside out. Sick. Exhausted.
I closed my eyes. Just for a minute…
“Oxygen,” Collins yelled.
…of sweet…
“Breathe,” Zayvion said.
…sweet…
Allison? Dad said.
… sleep.
“Allie.” Zayvion again. “Wake up.”
I opened my eyes, suddenly awake. Very awake. I was lying on my back, somewhere dark. Zay’s face was so near mine I could make out the lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled.
“God,” he exhaled. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, as if he’d just been screaming, or crying.
“She’s okay,” Collins said.
I hated to break it to the good doctor, but I didn’t think he knew what he was talking about. I wasn’t even in the same zip code as okay. Everything hurt, like whoa.
“Let’s see if she can sit,” he continued. “Then we can go.”
“I can,” I started. Okay, wow. Just those two words took a lot of effort.
This was ridiculous. I hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. One little spell couldn’t knock me out. Could it?
Permanent Damage.
“Ready?” Zay asked me. His voice was calm; so was his expression. I couldn’t tell if he was angry, pleased, or, well…anything. Even though his hand was on my arm, I didn’t sense anything from him.
I nodded. With Zay’s help, I sat. The world did one circle on the merry-go-round, and then everything was solid, set. Normal.
“I’m good,” I said, even though I was shaking and weak. “Help me up.”
Zayvion did me one better than that. He scooped me up like I didn’t weigh a pound and started walking.
I didn’t know where we were going. Hell, I didn’t know where we were, though from the smell of all the magic, I’d say we were still at the Faith well.
I suppose I could get all tough and tell him I could walk, to put me down, and all that. But I didn’t think I could walk. And even though I felt sort of stupid having him cart me around like an armful of kindling, I decided to take this chance to get my head together.
Using magic hadn’t just been painful. It had been incapacitating.
So, that was bad.
“Did Terric close the well?” I asked.
“Yes.” Man was not in a talking mood.
“Seattle?”
“Closing the well broke their hold. They had no magic to pull upon. Then we…restrained them in a more conventional manner.”
“How many are dead?”
“None.”
That didn’t seem likely. There had been a hell of a lot of magic thrown around in that room.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
So that whole he-could-tell-what-I-was-thinking, I-could-tell-what-he-was-thinking thing was working again. Nifty.
“I want to walk,” I said.
He took six more strides before finally stopping, then very gently lowered me so that my feet touched the ground.
Surprisingly, my knees held. “I got it,” I said.
Zay shifted and kept hold of my elbow. I took a look around. Garage. Van not far off. Good. “Any news on Leander and Isabelle?”
“Some,” Victor said.
I jerked. Suddenly, the rest of the world seemed to come into focus. It wasn’t just Zay and me walking toward the van. And there wasn’t just the van parked here.
Six other vehicles, including Detective Stott’s big white box van, were parked, doors open, people standing beside them, police lights spreading blue and red across the ceiling and walls.
People were getting into those cars. Some with police escorts who had guns strapped at their hips—when had we called the police? Others, people I knew—my Hounds Jack, Bea, Jamar—and members of the Authority—Carl, La, Sunny, Kevin. More people and faces I didn’t have names for, helping to make sure the people from Seattle were handcuffed and seated in the vehicles.
A lot of those people I’d seen at the meeting at Kevin’s place.
“How long was I out?”
“About a half an hour,” Victor said. “Dr. Collins recommended we let you come up out of the faint without magical assistance.”
“Faint? I did not faint.”
Victor was walking just slightly ahead of me. “Unconsciousness,” he corrected with a nod. “He tells me you are having difficulty with your father using magic through you.”
I glanced back at Collins. So he hadn’t told him that magic was killing me. And from the slight tightening of Zay’s fingers on my arm, I guessed he hadn’t said anything either.
Why didn’t they want him to know? Did they think Victor would be able to stop me, or rather, stop Dad from using the magic to purify the last well?
“It’s more painful than before. But we only have one well left to cleanse. We can do that. Have you heard anything more about Leander and Isabelle?”
We were at the van now, and Grace appeared from across the garage. That’s when I realized Victor had been walking without her help.
“Can you see?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No more than before. Just variations of light and darkness. But I have lived here for years. I could walk it blindfolded. As for my news, we have received reports that the Overseer landed in New York. Unfortunately, we also received news that Hector and Chloe were found dead.”
“Were they Soul Complements?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes.”
“Where do the other Soul Complements live?”
“Chicago, Atlanta, and San Diego.”
“Have you alerted people there? Have you contacted the Soul Complements and told them to get out of there?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice soft. “We have called. They don’t believe us. The last person I spoke with accused us of setting up these rumors of poisoned magic and possession to frame the Overseer. It’s…horrifying how little we can do.”
“Who can open gates?” I asked. I was still tired as hell, but wanted to do something for these people. There had to be a happy ending for Soul Complements in this world. If it wasn’t going to be Zay and me—and considering how much hell magic was putting me through, our luck was running thin—then it damn well better be someone out there.
Terric and Shame strode off, putting distance between themselves and everyone else. They looked strained. Uncomfortable. They hadn’t started growing anything or killi
ng anything or fighting each other. But I didn’t have the highest hopes of them getting through this in one piece either.
Eleanor paced between them, her arms crossed over her chest, occasionally pausing to say something to Shame I couldn’t make out.
“Any Guardian of the gate can open a gate,” Zay said.
“Is there one Guardian in each city?” I asked.
“If there’s a well in a city, there’s a Guardian.”
“So, yes?”
“Yes,” Victor said.
“Do you know the Guardians?” I asked Zay. “Is there some kind of club or yearly get-together where Guardians get drunk, wear funny hats, and compare war stories?”
Stone sat next to me and leaned against my leg and hip, which helped me stay on my feet. I put one hand on his shoulder for stability.
“We don’t gather,” Zay said, “but over the years I’ve crossed paths with several Guardians. Why?”
“Because we need someone who can open gates to where the remaining Soul Complements are, and somehow remove them from the playing field. Knock them out, tie them up, drug them if necessary. And then hide the hell out of them so Leander and Isabelle will come here while we have people left to fight them.”
Zay was silent, thinking.
Victor just shook his head. “There isn’t anyone who believes us, Allie. Not even the Guardians.”
“I’ll do it,” Collins said.
Zay’s head jerked up and he leveled a piercing gaze at Collins, who was leaning on the front bumper of the van.
Collins lifted his hands and gave Zayvion a disarming smile that did nothing to disarm him.
“I’m not a Guardian of the gate,” Collins said, “never have been. But I’ve opened gates and have done some…experimenting with technology that should allow me to nail my arrival point.”
“Let me guess,” I said. “It’s something you were working on with my dad.”
“No, although my time with him was part of what led me to begin the research. It was something even you weren’t able to Close from me, Victor.”
Victor and Zayvion had mirrored expressions—very carefully Zen. Which was really their go-to cover for when they were pissed as hell.
They didn’t like this idea. Didn’t like putting the safety of Soul Complements in the hands of Collins the Cutter. But it was the best plan we had. No, it was the only plan we had.