Chapter 19

We cleanedup as best we could with Lucy's wet wipes, performed triage on each other's wounds, and then ate like starving werewolves—washing down our food with much-needed swigs from Lucy's flask.

The roadhouse had packed deer meat for Daisy. She returned to her normal size and ate it outside the jeep. Lucy divided the contents of her travel bag between us. If she wondered where all my food had gone, she didn't ask.

Between bites of her sandwich, Lucy used the jeep's radio to report the location of the werewolf pack's grave and the graveling attack. Luckily, the dissolving bodies meant she could under-report the number of gravelings that had attacked and avoid mentioning she'd had the assistance of a ghost, a mage, a pū?is, and a giant magical wolf.

She sent in the pictures she'd taken via her cell phone and promised to file a full report when she had a chance. The dispatcher took her brief account of what happened and asked where Lucy was headed next.

"South," Lucy told her. "Toward where I think the gravelings are coming from. When I find the source, I'll call in my coordinates."

"Ten-four," the dispatcher said briskly. "Keep us posted, Four-oh-one."

Lucy signed off, hung up the radio, and started plotting a route on her dashboard GPS.

"Where are we headed?" I asked, tearing into a package of cookies.

"South, like I told dispatch." She frowned and tapped on the GPS screen. "By way of a healer and a motel."

"A healer? Is that like a doctor?"

"A mage." She studied the screen, scrolling through information. "A healer uses magic to heal."

"What kind of magic?"

She glanced at me, then returned to searching for a healer on the GPS. "It depends on the healer. For our wounds, we're going to need something strong and fast." She tilted her head. "I see a mage healer on the way, endorsed by several Guardians I know and trust."

"Sounds good." As a general rule, I didn't like anyone but Malcolm to use healing magic on me because it reminded me of being a prisoner of my grandfather's cabal, subjected to both torture and healing by his blood mages without my consent.

My shoulder hurt like someone had driven a pike through it, though, and every bone in my body ached. Besides, I might be able to learn something from the mage that could help me figure out how to use my own natural magic instead of the dark magic I'd absorbed from Mira?. I'd liked the feeling of the dark magic a little too much for comfort.

Daisy had finished her food all too quickly; I was sure she was still hungry, and so was I. Apparently traveling to another world and battling werewolves and gravelings could cause one to work up an appetite. She waited outside the jeep on high alert, watching for any other threats that might try to sneak up on us.

Meanwhile, my cat-dragon had finished washing graveling goop off her fur and curled up in her basket at my feet, but she wasn't asleep. She watched me, her emerald eyes glittering and occasionally flashing with violet magic. She was a pretty little thing—and completely and utterly deadly. And I still had no idea what to name her.

Finally, Lucy had our route planned from Oakdale toward the center of the attacks by way of the mage healer, avoiding areas shaded black, except one.

"A colony of earth spiders," she said. "Shapeshifters. A form of yōkai. They generally keep to themselves and don't bother anyone, but this colony's leader is an isolationist. We should be fine to just drive through the edge of their territory."

"Shape-shifting spiders sound fun," Malcolm said. He'd been forcing cheerfulness since we got back in the jeep. Seeing the dead wolves had really rattled him.

I got out to open the back door, stifling a groan at all my aches and pains. "Let's load up," I told Daisy.

She looked meaningfully at the empty spot where her dinner had been, and then up at me.

"I know; I'm still hungry too," I told her. "We'll try to find some food on the way." Where we'd find some, I had no idea. I hadn't seen any businesses open, but there had to be somewhere to get food.

Clearly disgruntled, she jumped into the jeep. She sat down on the back seat with a snuffly chuff. I shut the door and got in.

When we were all settled, Lucy turned on the ignition and backed out onto the street. No one had stirred from their homes, even in the wake of the very noisy fight. A few curtains moved as we drove away, but that was the extent of movement I saw from people living near what I was starting to think of as the killing field.

Lucy noticed me looking around. "Unless they have special training or a death wish, most civilians stay inside with their doors barred and windows shuttered. It's just how things are here. It helps us because there's less collateral damage usually when something happens, and reduces the number of call-outs we get."

"I guess that's one way to look at it." Malcolm's voice was grim. "This is a tough world to live in."

"I suppose it would seem that way to you. To us, it's just Thursday." She glanced at me. "There's a way station not too far ahead. We can get food for everyone and fuel so we don't have to stop again before we get to the healer. I'll pay for use of the facilities so we can clean up, but let's not stay long. I'd like us to get as far as we can by dawn."

"Got it." I winced and settled back into my seat. A way station sounded like the Broken World equivalent of a convenience store or truck stop.

I was ready to go home to a world that made sense, with all-night fast food and no giant shape-shifting spiders. A world with Sean in my bed and threats I understood how to fight.

We couldn't go home, though—not until we found Mariela and the scroll and made our way back to our return gate.

The cat-dragon hopped into my lap. She turned around a few times, curled up, and lay her head on my leg, purring quietly.

We drove out of Oakdale and into the night.

* * *

The way station was indeed a heavily fortified version of a truck stop. We were in and out in less than fifteen minutes—a little cleaner, moderately refreshed, and carrying several bags of road-friendly food and drinks. Our blood and black goo-splattered clothes barely got second glances from other customers.

In addition to food for myself, I bought Daisy another good-sized hunk of deer meat, which she ate in the parking lot. The cat-dragon happily consumed a full-sized can of cat food and drank about a pint of water. She settled back into my lap, purring. I wondered if she sensed my dark mood, or if she just wanted a warm place to nap. Either way, I appreciated her comforting warmth, even if I had no idea what to do with her when it was time for Malcolm, Daisy, and me to return home.

A way station employee—a troll in blue coveralls, whose name tag identified him as Ureg—fueled up our jeep. He and Daisy growled at each other until the tank was full and Ureg ambled off to assist a different customer.

We headed south on a major highway that actually had some traffic—mainly semis and large vehicles traveling in caravans. The vehicles were equipped with supe lights and oversized metal bars on their fronts, presumably to protect from collisions with large objects or creatures.

Despite my best efforts, I fell asleep not long after we got back on the road and dreamed about witches with enormous blades etched with pictures of male genitalia.

I woke with a start some time later when Lucy turned the jeep down a rough country road. I rubbed my bleary eyes and wiped some drool from my chin. I suspected I'd been snoring. "Where are we?"

"Approaching the mage healer's house." Lucy drove slowly, trying to avoid the largest bumps and dips, but the vehicle didn't have much of a suspension and the rough road rattled my teeth.

Peering out my window, I spotted an enormous castle on top of a hill in the distance. Bluish-white floodlight supe lights illuminated the building, its roofs and towers, and lawns brighter than the midday sun. Nothing would be able to get close without being seen.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, pointing.

Lucy winced as the jeep hit a particularly deep pothole. "The local Keep."

"Which is…?" I prompted.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting this is all new to you. Fae citadel. A prince of the Dark Fae lives there."

"Gulp," Malcolm said. "I vote we stay the hell away from the citadel of the Dark Fae prince."

Daisy chuffed. "Sounds like we're all in agreement," I said.

Lucy slowed to a crawl as a small house built into the side of a hill came into view in our headlights. Despite the late hour—or early hour, depending on how one looked at it—several lights were on inside.

Powerful magic sizzled on the edge of my senses. I braced myself as we crossed the mage's wards. Like the wards on the roadhouse, they lit up in distinct colors, signaling the healer who was approaching and what kind of magic we had. Unlike the coven wards, they didn't hurt me, just prickled on my skin. I let out a breath.

Lucy parked the jeep and we got out. Malcolm had gone invisible to avoid detection by the mage healer. I sensed him on my right.

"Will you stay and guard the vehicle and our things?" I asked Daisy.

She studied the house intently, then sat on the back seat so she could see anything that approached. I wondered what she'd sensed or seen from the house that made her willing to let us go in without her.

My cat-dragon jumped onto my shoulder. "Stay in the jeep," I told her, trying to disengage her claws from my shirt. She growled.

"She's your guardian," Lucy reminded me, coming around to my side of the vehicle. "Bring some cash, or something to barter."

I had nothing to barter, so I took cash from my wallet and followed Lucy up the walk with my cat-dragon on my shoulder.

A hinged gunport in the middle of the door opened. The barrel of a shotgun appeared. We stopped in our tracks.

"These are loaded with spelled pellets and silver flechettes," a brisk, young male voice said. "State your business."

"We're looking for the mage healer," Lucy said. "We have cash."

"Let's see it."

Slowly, Lucy withdrew a roll of cash from her pocket and raised it. I showed my own cash.

"Not enough," the young man said. The barrel raised slightly. "Show me more, or get going."

"It's more than enough," Lucy countered. "Going rate plus twenty percent for us showing up in the middle of the night, and a little extra to get us back on the road in less than an hour."

"What's all that black goop?" he asked.

Lucy heaved a sigh. "You want to play twenty questions or let us inside?"

"I want to play twenty questions." His voice hardened. "What's the goop?"

"Graveling innards," I said. "We've had a long damn night."

"Graveling innards, huh? That's a new one." The shotgun barrel disappeared. "Fine. I'm intrigued. You can come in. Tell your ghost friend to stop lurking around my blood garden."

A muttered curse from over by the garden. If I hadn't been so tired, I might have laughed. Poor Malcolm. He'd gone from not being able to be seen to not being able to hide, even when he wanted to.

A lock clicked and the front door swung inward. No point having a bunch of deadbolts with deadly wards on the house.

A young blond man of about twenty stood in the doorway, his shotgun cradled in the crook of his arm. He wore a gray T-shirt, pajama pants, and slippers. "Take your shoes off, please. Don't want that gunk in my house." He ran his fingers along the doorway, opening a passage in the wards for us to cross.

Lucy and I took off our boots and left them on the front step. Malcolm turned visible and followed us into the house. The mage shut the door behind us, and the wards flared again. I rubbed my arms as the house's ambient energy tingled on my skin.

"What's with the cat?" the mage asked, eyeing my companion.

"She's scared to let me out of her sight," I told him. "You're not allergic, are you?"

He clearly thought there was more to the story, but he didn't push. "I'm Tom," he told us.

We introduced ourselves and looked around. The house was spartan by any standards, but with comfortable spots for reading and a nice kitchen. He must like to cook.

I sensed no magic other than the house wards. No doubt his work area was hidden behind masking spells like my own back home. "Where do you want us?"

Tom gestured at a straight-backed chair near the door. "Bring that chair."

Lucy picked up the chair. We followed him into the kitchen. He leaned his shotgun against the wall and rolled up a carpet to reveal a circle inlaid in the stone floor. Lucy placed the chair in the middle of the circle, its feet in four tiny indentations. A lot of magic had been performed in this circle—enough to wear away the stone.

Expressionless, Tom got a bucket from under the sink and set it next to the chair. He ran his fingertips over some runes on a cupboard. Wards shimmered. He opened the cupboard, took out a wooden box, and set it on the counter. "Who wants to go first?"

"I'll go first." Lucy sat in the chair. "Hit me with your best shot."

He held out his hand. She put the cash in it, returned her arms to the armrests, and waited.

Tom set Lucy's cash on the counter next to the wooden box. He raised the lid and took out a beautiful dagger with an obsidian blade and carved wooden handle. The blade was etched with runes I recognized.

"You're a blood mage," I said.

He glanced at me. "That a problem?"

"Not at all."

"Good, because you know where the door's at if it is." He stood in front of Lucy, dagger in hand. "Some of these wounds damaged muscle." In other words, this was going to hurt.

She draped her hands over the ends of the armrests and crossed her legs, casual as could be. "Whenever you're ready, let's get this show on the road."

He cut the pads of his fingers without flinching. Magic rose and Tom's eyes glowed. His blood magic danced on his fingers, filling the air with the scent of pepper and copper.

He brushed his bloody fingertips on Lucy's arm, painting a rune in crimson on her skin. When I used blood magic for healing, I didn't have to touch the person, but Tom wrapped his fingers around her arm. "Heal," he said.

Lucy inhaled sharply as blood magic swelled and rolled through her, making her shudder. A tiny sound escaped her clenched jaw.

"Scream if you want to," I told her. "You have nothing to prove to anyone."

She glared at me and stayed stubbornly silent. The healing spell pulsed. She jerked and shook as the various wounds healed.

Finally, Tom released her arm and stepped back. Red magic swirled in the air between them, then dissipated. Panting, Lucy hunched over in the chair, face pale and lips bloodless. She shuddered hard.

"The bucket's on your right," Tom said, crossing his arms. "If you miss it, you clean up your own mess."

"Screw…you," Lucy said raggedly. She straightened with difficulty and glared up at him. "Ass…asshole."

"Guardian," he said, mimicking her tone.

She lurched to her feet and staggered to the other side of the kitchen. She leaned against the counter and breathed deeply. "You're up," she told me.

I gingerly placed the cat-dragon on the counter. "Stay here, please," I told her. "I'll be fine."

Violet magic flared in her emerald eyes.

Tom stared. "What is she?"

"Just a very smart cat. I wouldn't mess with her, though." I sat in the chair and rested my arms on the armrests as Lucy had done.

Tom studied me. "Your aura is strange, and your magic is even stranger. What have you been messing with to make your own magic unusable?"

"I tried to learn Latin and mispronounced something. Damn near killed me and screwed my magic all up."

"I hate it when that happens." He contemplated his bloody fingertips, then glanced at me. "You keep that dark magic to yourself and we'll be fine."

"It's a deal." I gripped the chair.

He painted two runes on my forearm with his own blood. One was the same rune he'd painted on Lucy; the other, a spell I didn't recognize. "What's that?" I asked.

"I'm going to try to heal your magic, just to see if I can. If it works, you can tip me."

"I have no idea if that will work," I said, startled that he'd offered.

He shrugged. "It's a challenge. I get bored healing bites and sword wounds and so forth. Might as well try something new once in a while."

"I can understand that." I considered his offer. I very much wanted to use my own magic here and not the sorcerer power. I was relatively certain I could re-tune my magic using the spell crystals in my cuffs. If not, I could definitely do it once I was back home. "Okay, see what you can do," I told him finally.

I caught Malcolm's eye. He read my expression and joined Lucy by the sink, ready to intervene if Tom got any funny ideas.

Tom's hand closed on my forearm. "Lock that dark magic down," he warned me.

I couldn't blame him for being concerned. If he'd known it was a sorcerer's black magic, not just dark magic I might have gotten mixed with my own, he probably would have told me to get the hell out of his house and burned the chair for good measure. But then again, who knew if sorcerers were the same in this world.

I took a deep breath and nodded. "Ready."

His blood magic rose again. I'd been on the receiving end of many healing spells in my lifetime. Every one of them had hurt—some so badly I'd vomited, passed out, or even wished for death, albeit briefly. But they'd all been familiar magic, and familiar magic was something I understood and could withstand.

Tom's magic, like this world, was not like my own. When the healing spell rolled through me, it was like a tidal wave of broken glass and white-hot needles, and it caused the dreaded healing-spell effect trifecta: I screamed, threw up, and passed out.

* * *

I woke up on the kitchen floor, hurting all over and full of someone else's magic.

Not someone else's magic, I realized. My own magic, partially tuned to the Broken World. The sensation was incredibly unsettling, like my body was out of tune with itself, but more in sync with the world around me. I groaned.

"You awake?" Lucy asked from somewhere to my left. "Get up, then. We gotta hit the road."

"Give her a freaking minute," Malcolm snapped. "Healing spells suck, and he messed with her magic too. That's like a whole-body root canal."

I opened my eyes and found myself staring into the bright green eyes of my cat-dragon, who was standing on my chest, her nose an inch from mine.

Tom crouched next to me. "You good? Or are you going to throw up again?"

"Good thing I don't feel like shit, or your comments would really be annoying." I carefully picked up the cat and sat up. The room tilted hazily, then settled itself. The area beside the chair was wet and smelled of cleaning products. They'd had time to clean up before I woke.

I checked my injuries and found them all healed. Someone had cleaned Tom's blood off my arm. "Sorry for the mess," I said.

He held out his hand. "Thank you for aiming for the bucket as you went down. I take it this is not the first time you've gone through a strong healing spell."

"Correct." I gripped his hand and he pulled me to my feet. He was stronger than he looked. I put the cat-dragon on my shoulder, where she perched and eyed him. "I don't usually lose my dinner or pass out, but like I said—"

"Like you said, you've had a rough day," he finished. "How does your magic feel?"

"Out of tune with what I'm used to, but like I might be able to use it, at least in a limited way. Thanks. I'll get you some cash when I get back to the jeep."

Lucy waited by the door. She'd washed Tom's blood off her arm and cleaned off as much blood and goop as she could while I was unconscious. "We've got lots more driving ahead of us," she reminded me.

"I'm coming." I paused. "I didn't get you with any of the dark magic, did I?" I asked Tom.

He shook his head. "You locked it down well. You have good training. Where did you learn that kind of control?"

"A long way from here, in a place that doesn't exist anymore." I headed for the door on rubbery legs, with Malcolm at my side. "You've got some impressive skills yourself."

"Thanks." Tom opened the front door. Lucy and I put on our boots. My magic thrummed under my skin, ready to be unleashed. The uneasy sensation faded as I adjusted to the feeling of my tuned magic.

I got money from my wallet in the jeep and brought it back to Tom as Lucy climbed into the driver's seat.

He tucked the cash in his pocket. "Thanks. Safe travels to you."

"Thank you. Fixing my magic was risky for you."

"What isn't a risk when you're a mage? Comes with the territory." He started to close the door, then paused. "Get rid of that dark magic, before it digs in any deeper."

"I don't know how." Why I admitted that to him, I wasn't sure. "I do know I don't want to turn into someone who likes that kind of magic." I hesitated, then asked, "Do you know of a way for me to get rid of it?"

"Get rid of it how?"

"I was advised that I might have to cut it out."

He studied me, his head tilted. "I don't know of any way to do that, with any kind of blade or magic. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I said, since it wasn't Tom's fault I was in this mess.

"It's not okay," he said, surprising me. "However you got that black magic, I'm sure it wasn't your choice. One thing I do know is it requires dark power to take dark power."

"That's what I'm afraid of." And I was fresh out of sorcerers—not that I'd allow another one to get anywhere near me. "Before I leave, do you sell healing spells? If so, I'd like to make a deal."

"I usually don't sell blood magic healing spells. Too many ways they can be used against me."

"I know—believe me, I do. And I wouldn't ask, except I don't think my own will work, and I have nothing else."

He considered. "I've only got one made, and it's expensive."

"How expensive?"

We negotiated a price. I went back to the jeep again for cash and traded it for a red crystal that pulsed with Tom's healing magic. I slipped it into one of the little pockets in my right arm cuff.

"Anyone asks where you got that, you found it on the side of the road, far from here," he told me.

"Thanks again." I backed away. "Be safe."

"You too." He closed the door and locked it. The wards flared.

Lucy was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel when I climbed into the jeep. "What did he give you?"

"I bought a healing spell, just in case we need it later." The cat-dragon jumped from my shoulder into my lap and then into her basket at my feet, where she curled up. "I think I might be able to use some of my natural magic now, with practice."

"Good." She made a three-point turn and headed back toward the main road.

As we bounced along, I asked, "Why were you so harsh to him and in such a hurry to leave?"

She didn't reply for a long time. Finally, she said, "Because he reminded me of someone I knew. The longer I stayed, the more I saw that other person in him. I don't want to think about that. What's past is past. What's gone…is gone."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." She consulted the dashboard GPS. "We'll be able to make about fifty or sixty miles before dawn, then we'll find a motel. We can't hunt gravelings during the day, and we won't be worth much unless we rest."

I couldn't argue with that. Fifty or sixty miles sounded like a thousand. Lucy had to be tired too. I'd force myself to stay awake until we got to the motel to keep her company. And then I planned to sleep, and sleep well.