Brí swept past them, out in the light and the boiling air. Fire ignited around her, her magic at full force, her touchstone blazing at her throat. Like a being made of fire itself, her hair the flames, her skin glowing like embers, she crossed to the Long Stone, the assembled crowds falling back from her path, angel and Sídhe alike. She joined Silver, taking the other matriarch’s hand in hers.
Silver stared at her in shock, her other hand still on her neck as if she couldn’t drop it for fear this was a trick and the voice would vanish. Something passed between the two of them, but Izzy had no idea what that might be.
‘Don’t promise things that are not yours to promise, angel,’ said Brí.
Zadkiel seemed to falter. ‘Lady?’ His voice was a whisper that carried like distant thunder. ‘Lady, you of all the Sídhe know this must be.’
‘I know many things, Zadkiel. More than you. But you will not take Jinx by Jasper. Not while I exist.’
‘Lady.’ His odd deference seemed to shock the other angels. Even Ash took a step back, staring at Brí as if trying to work out a puzzle. ‘I beg you, step down. Give us the Cú Sídhe. We will purge him, set him free of the bonds that control him. We will––’
‘You will kill him, Zadkiel. Use your words. And the answer is still no.’
They moved more quickly than thought, angels roaring through the air. Not like people anymore, but flaming swords, great Catherine Wheels, gaping mouths filled with teeth and eyes. Only Ash stood unchanged, looking still as human and vulnerable as ever, a girl amid horrors. Lost in dismay.
A rushing wind swept across the lawns, sweeping up the remains of the tents in a maelstrom. The earth shook and the shadows unfurled wings of darkness. Eyes brighter than stars burst from the blackness and shades spilled from everywhere. The angels faltered, turned towards new arrivals on the field with murderous eyes.
A terrible crash shattered the air. Glass fell like rain, tiny shards so brightly coloured and so beautiful that it was only in the moment before they struck that the beings beneath thought to look away. Screams filled the air, glass tore into Sídhe flesh or melted and evaporated as it stuck the angels. Zadkiel raised his hand, shielding himself and those immediately around him – Silver, Brí and Dad.
The stench filled the air and the verdant plants blackened and shrivelled. The perfect chamomile lawn beneath their feet turned to ashes.
The demons had come.
Another figure joined the group on the steps, dressed in his customary black, his long coat spread wide like bats wings in the wind. He smoothed back his hair with gnarled, clawtipped fingers. When he smiled, his teeth were very white and sharp.
‘Well, this is quite a gathering,’ said Azazel. ‘Sorry to gatecrash, but we felt left out. After all, we’ve lost brethren too.’
‘Abomination,’ snarled Zadkiel.
Azazel shrugged. ‘You’re so fond of that word. He’s an abomination. I’m an abomination. It used to be a privilege. Now everyone’s at it.’
‘I abjure thee, demon—’ Zadkiel began, but Azazel stepped right up to him and grabbed him by the throat, silencing him.
‘Go on, please. Give me a reason, little brother. I’ve been dying to snap your pompous neck for millennia.’ He looked over at Izzy’s dad. ‘Where’s our girl?’
The shades hissed, faces looming from the depths of their darkness as they spread around the doorway to the tent, trying to get in. Something held them back still, some last trace of Sídhe power.
Reaper. It had to be. Izzy could feel the vibrations of magic in the air around her, in her blood. But Reaper was watching her, a curious expression on his face, the way an expert might study an anomaly.
‘Ah, there she is,’ said Azazel, letting go of the angel and smiling broadly. ‘And the boy with her. We’re good to go then.’
‘No!’ said Dad.
‘No?’ Azazel paused, his eyes narrowing. ‘Are you forgetting something? Or rather someone?’
He snapped his fingers and Mum appeared, swathed in shadows. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her skin was pale as parchment. She looked terrified, helpless. Izzy screamed, and this time it was Jinx who had to hold her back, pulling her against him.
‘This isn’t a request, Grigori,’ said Azazel. ‘Give up the boy to them and it is war.’
‘Give him to the demons and we will rain fires of vengeance on this world.’ Zadkiel swept his arms out wide, ready to strike.
Azazel shrugged. ‘War, chaos. We’re good with that too. But we want him.’ He pointed right at Jinx. ‘If you want her back, David. Ever.’
‘Isabel,’ said Dad. He never called her that. Never. But his voice carried through the chaos and protests as clearly as if he whispered it beside her. He swallowed hard, glanced at his wife, and then looked at Izzy again. ‘Isabel Gregory, you know what you have to do.’
She did know. She hated herself for it. But she knew. ‘We have to get out of here,’ she whispered.
‘Your wish,’ said Reaper, ‘is my command.’ He stood behind them, with Clodagh at his side and Dylan slung over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Like he’d been ready all the time. ‘This way.’
He rubbed the finger and thumb of his free hand together and blue on the spark that formed there. Suddenly the tent filled with lights, dancing, swirling, a firework display of chaos.
The world ripped open, the ground heaving. ‘Follow me,’ said Reaper and stepped through it. The tent material billowed out, ballooning around them.
‘But we can’t leave them,’ said Jinx.
Mum. She couldn’t leave Mum. But she couldn’t stay either. She couldn’t hand him over. And Dad had told her what to do, hadn’t he? This had to be what he meant. It had to be. She pulled Jinx with her, through the portal Reaper had opened. Who know he could do that? Who knew anyone could do that? Just open ways on a whim. Brí for one, Izzy supposed. Maybe her dad too. Or at least, she hoped so.
‘Dad can negotiate. The very sight of you is driving them crazy. Without you, they don’t have a reason to fight. Maybe they can stop arguing and work together to find a way to stop the Fear and Shining Ones.’
‘You heard them. They have a million reasons to fight.’
‘They don’t have a prize then. Just shut up and run. Don’t lose Reaper.’
They caught up with Clodagh first, gasping in panic as she ran. But still running hard, not giving up and dissolving in tears. Izzy pushed onwards, her feet pounding on stone now. There were cobbles underneath her, the Sídheways winding on ahead like a narrow alleyway she almost knew.
She had to find Donn, find a way to help Jinx because otherwise the angels and the demons would come for him again. And there would be war.
The telltale glimmering of another Sídheway opening filled the far end of the alley. They plunged through and let it take them wherever Reaper was heading.
Jinx tried not to think. It was so much easier not to think. The angels and the demons were after him and whatever Holly had done to him was clearly so dreadful that they were prepared to break the most serious laws of all to get to him. They’d violate every treaty, go to war. They’d tear the world apart to capture him. And if he was lucky, capture was as far as it went. He didn’t think that likely. Neither would allow the other to take him. He knew that. And if they thought he was lost … or a threat …And even Silver could no longer be trusted. They’d promised her the one thing she wanted – her precious voice. She’d lost it to free him from Brí, given it to the other matriarch. Given the chance to get it back, he knew she’d take it. Nothing had ever hurt her like that except perhaps the destruction of her tree. When Brí had taken her voice, she’d weakened her so much that Holly could get to her touchstone and shatter it. Only Dylan had saved her. No one truly understood how that might work out, what it was doing to either of them. And now… now she could be more powerful than ever. With Dylan and her voice, she’d have the power she thought she needed to really be a matriarch. Without realising that she already had it. A
nd that her power wasn’t the thing that mattered.
Only Dylan wasn’t with her. He was lying there on the other side of the cellar where they hid, unconscious still.
Jinx had dreamed when he was unconscious, strange and terrible dreams. It hadn’t just been the Púca, not when he’d looked in the pool. The Dubh Linn was a seer’s pool. He knew the old stories. What you saw in there was always true. The voices in his mind had been too harsh, too real. They’d invaded every molecule of his body, leaving barbs of memory behind when Brí had forced it to withdraw. How she’d done it he had no idea and didn’t want to know. It didn’t do to dwell too closely on the ways of matriarchs and their abilities.
Or the amount of power Brí could command when she put her mind to it. Even the angels had been scared of her. He’d seen that. From the moment she stepped out. Sorath hadn’t wanted to confront her. Neither did Zadkiel. What had she been to them?
And now Silver.
He didn’t know where they were. Reaper had brought them through the Sídheways by paths he didn’t know. Paths he couldn’t hope to know, for they were old indeed, their edges frayed and worn which meant, to know them, Reaper had to be very old as well.
And now they huddled in a cellar, under the ruins of some old house burnt out almost a hundred years ago. Dylan slept peacefully, though he’d woken when they first arrived, wild and raving, hysterical. Reaper and Clodagh had calmed him, the girl still holding him close and Jinx suspected that Reaper had used some magic as well.
‘You couldn’t have done anything,’ said Izzy. ‘They would have killed you.’
‘I don’t know what they would have done. Perhaps it would have been a good thing.’
‘No.’ She drew close in the darkness and pressed her lips to his. ‘That would never be a good thing.’
‘Izzy,’ he started, but her lips were in the way and he’d dreamed so long about kissing her again that he couldn’t pull back. He wrapped his arms around her, touched her face and her hair. All the while she kissed him, that sweet, delicate way she had of kissing, like she was tasting him, that drove him out of his mind with need. He couldn’t seem to let go, to move back, or to be anywhere but there with her. She tugged at his shirt and slid her hands underneath it, her hands so cold against his hot skin, so soft against his muscles.
She brushed against a bruise from the fight the other day and he hissed with the shock of it.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. Nothing at all. Izzy—’
One of her hands pressed against his cheek then and she stared up, her eyes so bright and blue that he felt like he was falling into the summer’s sky. ‘I won’t lose you again.’
The sudden rush of anger in her voice made him smile and the smile made her angrier still. ‘You won’t, won’t you?’
‘You think I’m joking?’
‘No.’ But he couldn’t keep the laugh from his voice. He should have, he knew that. It never did to laugh at her. And that fiery temper was never easily quelled. But at the same time he couldn’t help himself. He threaded his fingers through her bright fire-red hair, soft as silken strands.
In all this danger and terror, this moment was perfect happiness. How could he not laugh?
She punched his shoulder. Surprisingly hard. She’d been practising, leading with the first two knuckles, the hardest bones of all. ‘Shut up.’
‘Yes, my lady,’ he murmured, lowering his mouth to capture hers again.
‘Oh, God, get a bloody room,’ Clodagh snapped from the other side of the cellar where she sat beside Dylan. ‘It’s nauseating.’
Izzy opened her eyes, so blue, and laughed. Probably not the sound Clodagh was expecting but after a moment she joined in as well. A bright sound in the darkness. Jinx could only stare at them, bewildered.
‘You’re so weird, Izzy Gregory,’ her friend said.
‘I know. What’re you going to do about it?’
‘Embrace the crazy I guess.’
‘You okay? Really?’
Clodagh shrugged. ‘I’m still here, aren’t I?’
‘Mari wouldn’t be.’
‘Of course she would have been!’ she scowled. ‘Maybe you didn’t know her. Mari was complicated. She could be a bitch, sure. But when she had your back … and she had our backs, Izzy. Always. Remember when Sarah Blake started that rumour about you in second year?’
‘No.’
‘Yeah, because Mari told her to shove it or the world would know about her secret fluffy unicorn collection. See?’
Jinx listened, bemused. It was like another language, words from another world. He envied them.
‘Where is Reaper?’ he asked.
Izzy shook her head and the brightness in her dimmed a little. She didn’t know any more than he did. ‘He said he’d be back.’
‘How’s Dylan?’
‘Awake,’ he said, his voice ragged. ‘My head wishes I wasn’t.’
Izzy got up and crossed to him, kneeling down beside him. ‘Are you okay?’
Dylan struggled upright, swinging his legs down, but clearly he thought better of it a moment later as he dropped forward, head in his hands. ‘No. Not really. Give me a minute.’
‘What happened?’
‘They gave Silver back her voice. Temporarily, I expect. Nothing’s for nothing or what’s the point? But it broke our connection. I lost the music. All of it.’ He sounded bereft. ‘But they won’t let her keep it. Not unless she hands over Jinx.’
There was no doubt in any of their minds that she would. That was the worst part. If it got Silver her voice back, it was worth it. That was all she wanted, after all. She’d given it up to save him. In a way it was only right.
If it meant this would end and Izzy would be safe…
‘You ought to have left me there.’
Clodagh tutted. ‘Suicidal, are we? Great. That’ll help. That’ll help loads.’ Jinx just glared at her, putting every bit of malice he could into the expression. She arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. ‘I’m not scared of you, you know?’
He glowered even more. ‘You should be.’
Clodagh just rolled her eyes, already bored. ‘Please, tell him, Izzy.’
‘Yeah, she’s not scared of you,’ said Izzy. ‘Years of Mari. That’s why—’
‘Do you mind?’ said Dylan, sharper than Jinx would have expected. He’d lifted his head again, blinking in the dim light. Mari had been Dylan’s sister, his kin. Jinx understood in an instant, even if the girls did not. Kin were everything … or at least, they were meant to be. ‘Where are we?’
Clodagh answered. ‘Hiding in a cellar. A really funky smelling one. It’s brilliant. Not. I don’t think he’s coming back, Izzy.’
‘All right.’ She stood up, stretching out her back in that hypnotic way he couldn’t help but watch. ‘Reaper wouldn’t just leave. He made a deal with Brí. You don’t do that lightly. And if you do, you certainly don’t double cross her.’
The door scraped open behind them and Jinx slid to his feet, ready to fight if he had to. But the figures that entered on silent feet weren’t a threat. If his heart could speak it would have sobbed with relief.
‘What have you got into now, Jinx by Jasper?’ asked Blythe. The other Cú Sídhe laughed. Blight always had a better sense of humour than his sister. That wouldn’t be difficult as Blythe probably couldn’t break into a smile without cracking her face. But she was the most skilled Cú Sídhe he knew, leader of her pack – his pack – and she had never let him down. Or indeed, let him forget it.
Behind them, Reaper stepped into the room and shut the door. ‘We need to move on. It’s chaos out there. The rumour mill is running riot. And there are rather a lot of fae saying we should hand you over. They can’t decide which side gets you though. The Fear killed many tonight, and drove more out of their minds. Humankind cannot cope with such things. They have their excuses already – gas leaks and rioting, such things – but it won’t be long until they strike again.’
br /> ‘Where’s my dad?’ asked Izzy.
‘That I do not know. I ran into these two and—’
‘Lady Brí sent word,’ said Blythe. ‘She told us to track you and guard you. So here we are.’
‘And if they did, others can as well,’ said the blue-haired Aes Sídhe.
‘Not bloody likely,’ snorted Blight. ‘No one tracks like Cú Sídhe.’
‘Some do,’ Reaper told him solemnly, not amused by his bravado. ‘Perhaps not as fast, but just as accurately in the end. We should go.’
‘Where are you taking them?’ asked Blythe.
‘To My Lord’s hollow. That’s where you want to go, isn’t it?’
‘And who’s your Lord?’ asked Clodagh.
‘Donn.’
‘Oh, good,’ said Dylan. ‘Just what we need. Yes, let’s go and pay the Lord of the Dead a visit. That’s what Mari said we had to do. Why the hell not?’
‘Hell,’ said Clodagh. ‘Funny.’ She nudged Dylan, who only winced.
Jinx frowned. She had the strangest sense of humour. Maybe proximity to the fae was turning her mind. Maybe Amadán had done something to her regardless of his promises. ‘Izzy?’
‘Yes. That’s what Mari said. That’s what everyone said. The only one who can help us is Donn. If Reaper can take us there, then that’s where we go.’
The night air felt cold when they stepped outside. The cellar had offered shelter Izzy hadn’t realised. Now a fine misty rain made the Dublin streets grey and dull. It haloed the streetlights in yellow, the ornate black lamppost casting a strange multi-shadow of swirls and shamrocks. Izzy paused, leaning against the cold metal.
Nothing felt right. She wanted to phone Dad, but she didn’t dare. He’d tell her not to do this, she knew it. He might even tell her to give Jinx up for the greater good, and she couldn’t do that. He might even say it was the only way to get Mum back and she couldn’t make that choice. She just couldn’t.
‘Isabel, you know what you have to do.’
He only used Isabel when she was in trouble and they both knew it. And she was in trouble now. Maybe that was what he’d meant? Oh God, had she done the wrong thing? Had she abandoned and doomed her mum?