Chapter 26

Chapter

26

I scrambled for balance as I slid across a polished floor in the absolute dark, jerking when I hit something that fell with a harsh clatter. Effectively blind, I reached for a ley line, elated when I realized she had lifted her block.

"Lenio cinis," I whispered as I wondered why, and faintly glowing light blossomed off the floor of the cell. And it was a cell: low ceiling, flat floor, no windows or doors, only fifteen feet across, maybe. The walls themselves were curved, making it look as if I was sitting inside a hollow doughnut, the ceiling of which was just over my head.

My shoulder bag had not made the trip, and I had a moment of frantic panic as I patted my pockets to make sure I still had my dad's broken stirring rod. It was still there, and I exhaled in relief. Everything else could be replaced, and I slowly sat where I was and rubbed my elbow. It was obviously Newt's oubliette, the "little forgotten space" where she stuffed people until she remembered them—if she remembered them. And from the pile of purple and green silk still sheltering the bones and hair that I'd fallen into, I clearly wasn't the first.

"Hey, hi," I whispered, not as horrified as I should be at the skeleton curled up at the base of a wall. "Sorry about running into you, Fred," I said, naming my cellmate.

My expression pinched as I realized this was probably the oubliette that Nick would die in. Maybe I'd still be here when Nick showed up. I could throttle the neck of my onetime boyfriend myself.

But no. Al had discovered Nick's body. He would have told me if I had been there beside him. I think. Maybe not. Just two spell-robed mummies in the desert.

Frustrated, I eased myself into a more comfortable position, smacking the dust off my bejeweled jeans as I stole little glimpses of my cellmate. My breathing was the only sound. It was warm, almost stuffy, but a hint of burnt amber and dust led me to think there was an air vent somewhere.

"I am so sorry, Elyse," I whispered, imagining what was going on in Newt's chambers right about now. The proud woman wouldn't submit, and Newt would run a ley line through her as punishment, trying to quash the woman's will and strengthen her carrying capacity at the same time. It hurt. Al had done the same thing to me until I had learned how to spindle line energy in my head and throw it right back at him. Ah, good times.

I'd told her I could keep her safe, and my pride and overconfidence had bitten both of us on our collective asses. Even if I could return myself and Elyse to reality, she'd never trust me. None of the coven would. And if I kept making such stellar mistakes, perhaps they shouldn't.

"Knock it off, Rachel," I said as I gathered myself and stood. I was in a box. I'd been in a box before. If air was coming in, there was a way out—robed skeleton aside.

The ceiling was only a few feet over my head, and I reached up to touch it to make sure it was real. The stone was warm under my fingertips. Perhaps I was closer to the surface than I had first thought. I had access to a line. I wasn't helpless. The air was coming from somewhere. "Hang on, Elyse. I'm coming."

Slowly I began to pull the ley line energy into me, gathering it, spindling it into a wad. Scintillating, it pooled in my chi, and I raised my hands over my head, forcing the energy into my palms until they glowed an unreal gold and red, ribbons of smutty black tracing through them. I was going to bust out of here right now. Newt could make a new oubliette for Nick.

"Celero dilatare!" I shouted, forcing a small bubble of air to expand.

It hit the ceiling and rebounded, smacking into me with the force of a train.

I hit the stone wall, arms and legs askew. Groaning, I slid to the floor, a hand clenched to my shoulder. My light had gone out, and I willed it back into existence. "Ow," I whispered as I sat up, that pile of bones and silk clattering with my movement. It had been pushed into the wall with me, and I felt a twinge of guilt. Whoever it had been, they probably hadn't deserved being left here to die of dehydration.

"Sorry," I said, an inane feeling of companionship welling up as I scooted away. My head hurt, and I held it as I willed the room to stop spinning. Regret tightened my chest, and I dropped my forehead to my knees. Elyse was right. It had been stupid thinking I could waltz into the ever-after and make a deal with Newt. Trent might have killed me for trying to steal from him, but he would've given me a sporting chance. Newt was erratic and unpredictable. She moved on instinct, and I had stomped all over hers. I'd been so intent on proving to Elyse that I knew what I was doing, I proved to her I didn't—even if she hadn't been making the situation any easier.

But regardless of my pride being ground to a paste under Newt's heel, I had to get out of here. Kisten was languishing under the library. I couldn't save him, but I had hoped I could say good-bye, maybe, when he left. Now, even that was gone, and I blinked the sudden tears away.

"Way to go, Rachel," I whispered, throat tight. I had dropped myself in the past thinking that, with everything I'd learned, I would be okay, but it hadn't been enough. I needed my friends. I was never going to get out of here. I was going to die in this cruddy little hole in the ground, and Nick was going to find my bones next to Fred.

"I'm sorry, Elyse," I whispered, knowing there was no return for her, either. I'd never see Ivy or Jenks again, never see Trent, touch his face, feel his strength, his gentleness, his love.

I sniffed back the tears as I spun the ring he'd given me, indulging in my pity party. It wasn't as if I had anything else to do. I had risked everything for what? Because I was scared of the coven? Because I couldn't leave Cincy to its fate? Because of my pride?

And then I sighed, the pain about my chest easing. No. I'd risked everything because I had used a dark curse and hurt someone. I'd come here not to evade the coven's snare but to find a freaking Atlantean mirror and uncurse Brad. That it would free me from the coven was simple justice.

But it was still my pride that had gotten me stuck.

"Son of a moss wipe, pixy-pissed, troll-turd excuse of a demon!" I shouted, hearing my voice hit the smooth walls and floor.

Maybe if I made myself look like Fred, Newt might throw me out with the garbage, I thought. Newt had my bag and everything that was in it. Apart from being able to tap into a line, all I had was the transposition charm. That, and my wits.

Grimacing, I got to my feet. Maybe it was like an escape room where, if I could find a way out, I'd be worthy to be her familiar. I'd been down here a good ten minutes. The air wasn't getting stale. There had to be an exchange.

More careful now, I began to explore, skirting Fred's remains as I ran my hand over first the walls, then the ceiling, searching for the way out. Not a glimmer of magic or a hint of fresh air found me. The walls were perfect, almost as if I was in a bubble and the rock was only an illusion, like a holodeck on a sci-fi flick.

Like a glamour, I mused. Lips pressed, I fumbled for the transposition stone and peered through it. Inch by inch I went over the walls and floor and ceiling, pulling the air into my lungs with a pained slowness as I searched for a stronger scent of burnt amber until, with a jolt, I found it. There in the ceiling under my questing fingertips was a laced mesh of power glowing with a silken thread of black. It had to be covering something.

Eyes narrowed, I stared up at the ceiling. "Adaperire," I cautiously whispered, yelping when even that mild of an open spell bounced back with a vicious fire, flicking over my aura and soaking in with a harsh warning. And yet it was proof that something was there to protect.

Stymied, I stood where I was, head craned and arms over my middle. I'd found the opening. I couldn't see it without the stone, but clearly something was there. It was magical in nature, meaning only magic could break it. I needed something subtle to pare the spell away. I needed a knife, but not just any knife, which I didn't have anyway. I needed a magic knife.

I lifted my brow at the first hints of an idea. I could tap a line. I had been accessing spells from the demon collective since we got here. I'd taken a summoning name this week if I had my timing right. Maybe I could get into the demons' vault? Not for a lethal charm but for something with the exquisite precision needed to cut through a powerful spell.

I sat down right where I was, a thread of excitement spilling through me. Eyes closing, I exhaled to quiet my thoughts…then sent them into the collective. My breath caught and I felt a moment of familiar vertigo as the multitude of conversations beat at me. They were all in my head, and I tried to muffle my confusion and sly hope amid the deals being struck, complaints being made, and gossip finding a foothold.

I say Gally has no proprietary claim on the spell that allowed him to break the summoning curse, came loudly into my mind. Even if he would use it to pay his debt for letting that bitch of an elf Ceri escape knowing how to spindle line energy. The spell to give us reality again belongs to everyone.

It was Dali, the self-appointed leader of the demons, second only behind the erratic power of Newt, and I hid my presence behind a cluster of thought revolving around Newt's recent disappearance, and perhaps it was time to trade Minias out for a more careful caretaker?

"Reserare, Jariathjackjunisjumoke ," I whispered, shuddering when the word to enter meshed with my password and I felt my thoughts drop into the vault.

The conversations vanished with a shocking suddenness as my mind shrank down to just me. But it didn't stay that way, and soon the long-fallow memories of the demons who had died over the eons rose up from the shadows, their presence clinging to the spells they'd made, their essence angry and vindictive as they demanded I use the war curses they had twisted and stored here. I ignored them, my thoughts on one thing only: Al's dagger. I hadn't accidentally given it to Dali yet. It had answered to me once before. Perhaps it would again.

Quaere, I whispered into my thoughts, framing my request with my belief of its obedience. I summon you, Quaere, not to soak in my enemy's blood but to sever their snare that would see me languish into death. I summon you at the will of your maker, Algaliarept.

Either it would come or it wouldn't, and I felt a smile find me as my hands in my lap began to thrum, an eager thirst tickling the edges of my awareness.

My eyes opened, my sight pulling me from the demons' war vault. In my hands was a small dagger, hazed with magic and prickling against my aura. Actually, it was magic, and with it I could kill demons and elves.

I was sure it would be disappointed when it found out all I wanted to do was escape.

"Thank you," I whispered, knowing the dagger had a quasi-intelligence. It didn't recognize time, didn't know that I shouldn't be aware of it until two years from now. All it knew was that I had called with the assurance that it should answer…and it did.

I stood with a renewed hope. Peering through the transposition curse, I angled the knife to the faintest haze of black, cringing as I boldly slashed through it.

Magic cramped my hand and arm, and I hunched with a muffled cry. The dagger, though, pulsed in satisfaction, and my head snapped up at the new scent of dust. The glamoured mesh was gone. A three-foot-wide shaft rose straight up through the rock. At the top, a patch of night sky showed, blacker than the walls lit by my light, and I stifled a quiver of angst. Not too late…

"Yes!" I exclaimed, deciding that if I could get into the smooth shaft, I could wedge-walk my way to the surface. I hesitated to make sure Newt wasn't coming to investigate, and then I jumped for the opening, fingertips brushing the inside before falling short.

There was no way.

Peeved, I looked over the cell, seeing only Fred. The thought to animate him to give me a boost came and went. I couldn't do that. Fred wasn't going to be much help. Using a charm to propel me up the shaft wasn't happening, either, lest I miscalculate and snap my neck. I needed something to stand on or someone to pull me out. Unfortunately, the only things up top were surface demons and the occasional gargoyle.

Gargoyle? I mused. I couldn't call Bis, but maybe Adagio would help.

Licking my lips, I stood right under the opening, staring up at the patch of red-tinted darkness high overhead. The sun was going down, and a cool wind blew in, bringing dust with it.

"Adagio!" I shouted, hands cupped.

Nothing.

"Adagio!" I called again, my hands going to my ears when the word bounced around the room, beating on me. Crap on toast…

Frustrated, I slumped against the curved wall and slid down to sit, staring at my dusty boots. The thought to try to contact Bis rose and fell. He hadn't been at the church at this time, didn't know me. My melancholy thickened as I recalled his shy smile when he tried anything new, his deadpan seriousness when pranking Jenks, and his utter devotion to me even as he gave me the space I thought I needed. He had trusted me when I said I'd make it home. I missed him, and he was the one whom I fell short with the most. And now he would be alone.

"I'm so sorry, Bis," I whispered. "I didn't mean to leave you." Depressed, I thumped my head against the wall and sniffed back a tear.

A soft scrape pulled my eyes open, and I stared at the ceiling. "Bis?" I whispered, a horrid mix of dismay and delight cramping my gut. He shouldn't see me. He shouldn't be here!

But it was a rougher voice, older and cracking like stones, that answered me with a slow, "Why do you pine for my kin?"

I sat up, neck craned. "Adagio?" He had heard me. Relief it wasn't Bis washed through me, shortly followed by heartache. "I need your help," I added as I got to my feet and peered up the hole to see nothing. He was blocking the view of the sky. "I know you have no reason to give it, and probably a few not to."

A flash of the night showed as he shifted his head—then was gone. "Why do you pine for my kin?" he asked again, and the dry scent of feathers and iron drifted down to remind me of Bis.

"Because one of them looks to me. But he doesn't know me yet and I don't dare call for him."

I shifted as a few pebbles sprinkled down, and then the brighter light of the night returned. "I can't help you," he said as he moved away.

"I know." I whispered it, more for me than him as I sank down, clear of the falling pebbles. "He lives in reality. Just a kid. Size of a big cat. He showed up on my church one day, and he never left. Even when he should. He stuck with me. Lost his life saving mine."

A soft rumble of confusion echoed in my prison, and his face filled the opening. "And yet you call for him? When he lost his life?"

I lifted a shoulder and let it fall. "Because I held it in trust until he got it back."

"Mmmm," he rumbled, the sound almost a force pressing down on me. "You say you are bonded. I know all the demons. I do not know you."

"I'm new," I said listlessly, thinking Al was right about my chances of making it to old age. But, man…I thought I'd make it further than this. "Just like Bis," I added. "Not being there for him is my biggest regret." I hesitated, wondering if Adagio had talked to Fred, too. "Hey, Adagio? What is it that you regret the most?"

More pebbles sifted down, and his billows-like breathing grew fainter. "I do not regret."

"Everyone has regrets," I insisted, and the gargoyle made a huffing rumble.

"I do not," he insisted. "I have a wish."

Wishes were cousins to regret, and I fiddled with the pebbles, trying to stack them up. "What do you wish for, Adagio?"

"That I knew how to give peace to the one I care for."

"Newt?" I smiled ruefully. "Yeah, she's a churning mess most of the time. It's hard being confused when everyone else seems to know what they are doing. I have a secret you can tell her. No one knows what they are doing. Some of us simply know how to fake it better." My pile of pebbles slid into nothing, and I started again. Click, click, click… "I think I saw her at peace only once. You were with her."

"I must go," Adagio said, and a slew of pebbles sprinkled in, destroying my new miniature tower. "It's not safe after dark, even for me."

"It was The Hunt," I added, not caring if he left but wanting to talk. "Jointly led by Newt and a Kalamack son, if you can believe it."

A rumbling chuckle of laughter drifted down. "I do not."

"Everyone was there, even Dali in those ugly torn robes he wears when he wants to remind everyone of their civic duty to hate elves." I stared at the black hole in the ceiling. "Bis was too small to carry me, so his dad did. We followed our quarry through both realities, through every ley line until we drove our quarry to ground. I've never seen anything like it, and I probably never will again. It was magnificent."

"This thing you say that hasn't happened yet," Adagio prompted, his disbelief obvious.

"It has for me." My voice went wispy as I used Quaere to cut the last of the sequins from my shirt and flick them one by one across my cell. "Bis fixed them all. Every single line. And then together they killed the idiot who set the lines' resonances against each other as easily as he had set the demons against themselves. Demons need each other, like the flower needs the sun. That's okay. I need my people, too."

Adagio was silent, but I knew he was up there, and I found I could still smile. My life might have been short, but it had been full. Trent would remain to remember The Hunt. It hadn't been for nothing.

"She was happy," I said softly. "Flying astride your shoulders, meting out justice. Saving those who looked to her from a pain she didn't want them to carry." I tilted my head to the ceiling. "That's why she takes my place as the Goddess. To save me from a pain she didn't want me to carry. But she will be happy, Adagio. And later, she will find peace. She will be allowed to set down her promise to keep her kin from heartache. She will be free. I promise you. Soon, not in forever. You will get your wish."

I guess wishes were different from regrets.

Adagio made a long, rumbling sigh. A drift of red sand sifted down the shaft…then nothing. He was gone.

My shoulders slumped…and then I jumped when the air grew stuffy, and with a scrabbling rasp, a thick, lion-tufted tail flicked into my cell. I pushed to the wall, jaw dropping when the tail was followed by gnarled feet, wiggling hips, and finally a wing-wrapped body as the ceiling gave birth to a craggy old gargoyle.

He hit the ground hard, catching his balance easily. I stared as Adagio shifted from foot to foot, wings rasping as they settled and he filled the space that was left. Glancing up at the hole, he shuddered. Dust sifted from him and he looked at the knife in my hand.

"I don't know how to put it away," I said as I set it on the floor. He was down here with me, and I felt myself go pale. Dude. The guy was huge, his gray skin crisscrossed with lumpy white scars. Something had shifted, and I didn't know what.

"I listened to you at the Basilica. You rely on your friends because your friends rely on you. You understand demons better than they do themselves. What is your name?" he asked, his low voice rumbling like distant thunder against the curved walls to sound as if it was coming from right over my head.

I licked my lips. He wouldn't hurt me, but this was really odd. I knew he didn't care about me, but he was down here nevertheless. "Rachel Mariana Morgan," I whispered, his presence demanding I use all three.

The tip of Adagio's tail twitched, and I felt a pang of heartache when it curled about his feet like Bis's. "That name will be forgotten," he rumbled. "What is the name you will be remembered by?"

"My summoning name?" I blurted, sure that's not what he wanted.

Adagio grimaced, his red eyes squinting at me in annoyance. "That is your name that no one speaks. Who are you?"

I started to say no one, and then I hesitated. I was no one to him already. He didn't care about who I was, only what I was to Bis. "I am the world breaker's sword," I whispered, letting go of my ego and becoming smaller. "I belong to him. To Bis."

"Ahhh." Adagio's ear flicked. "That one I know. But that is a thing of the future, not the past. The ever-after abides. As foul and broken as it is."

I stiffened as he shuffled closer, closing one eye in a wincing squint when he breathed deeply over me.

"Or not," he mused, a hint of confusion in his gravelly voice. "You have already ridden the back of the universe, turning the shadow of memory to bone and dust and air."

He meant creating a new ever-after, and I smiled in remembrance. "Yeah, but Bis is the real artist." And I am going to miss him.

" You are the sword used to break the worlds?"

I squinted at him in apology. "Sorry if you were expecting more."

Wings clamped tight, Adagio looked confused. "The world breaker lives," he whispered, almost unheard. "He's among us even now."

"He is alone," I countered, and Adagio seemed to start, his wide-ranging thoughts coming back to the now. "Or he will be."

A low rumble rose from him, vibrating through me. "Wait," Adagio said, and then he stretched a long, muscular arm up, easily finding the opening and pulling himself up and into the shaft.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I called as he struggled, chunks of rock falling as he dragged himself upward. "Wait for what?"

But he was gone, and I stared at the ceiling, tense until, with the scrape of metal on stone, the grip of Adagio's beaten sword dangled just within my reach. I was going to get free.

But Nick wasn't. He was not anyone's sword, and as Adagio called down to find out if his sword reached, I used Quaere to scratch a note on the wall to Nick in the hopes that it would survive until he found it.

"Grasp the sword!" Adagio demanded.

"Just a sec!" I called, scribbling, Ta-ta, Nick. Kiss, kiss, Rachel.

Okay, maybe that had been unnecessary and snarky, but I felt better.

I felt even better yet when I grasped the ancient silver handle with both hands, holding Quaere between my teeth as Adagio pulled me up. I bowed my head, teeth clenched when my shoulders bumped and pebbles rained down. Something passed through my aura, and with a shocking suddenness, I was free and the gritty wind pushed on me.

Adagio held the sword high, and I let go to drop lightly to the ground. It was dark, but the sun couldn't be too far away, and the pinch of time dug at me.

"Thank you," I whispered, and Adagio leaned heavily upon his dented sword.

"I do this for the world breaker. When you hurt, he hurts. And he does not deserve to hurt."

"No, he does not." I reached out, his muscular arm warm under my hand as I looked into his red eyes, squinting at something familiar. "I only want to get home to him."

"Be more careful. He needs you."

I nodded, surprised when he ran a single gray-scarred finger across my jawline. A hint of the ley line lifted through me, and then his attention shifted over my shoulder.

"Gotta go," he said, suddenly panicked. His hand dropped and his wings flashed open. Pushing down once, he was in the air, leaving a swirl of gritty red dust.

When I could see again, he was nothing more than a fast-moving shadow heading west.

I managed a weak laugh as I stared up at the red-smeared sky past the black clouds. "Come out to the ever-after," I mocked, tired and sore as I beat the dust from my spelling robe. "We'll steal a few spells. Have a few laughs…"

"Adagio!" came a piercing scream, echoing against the heavy, dusty air.

I spun, face going cold. It was Newt.