Chapter 6

Chapter Six

CLIO

Clio's lungs burned as she and Lyre ran into a sitting room littered with dead bodies. Their breakneck charge up to this floor had left her legs aching but she didn't slow down—not with the two incubi somewhere below. She'd thought she'd left the Rysalis master weavers behind forever, and she felt more terrified now than she had with an executioner's sword at her neck.

Not so much as glancing at the corpses, Lyre strode into a bedroom. Inside, his wards glowed brightly in her asper, spanning one section of the wall. He slid his fingers over the wood, dissolving the spells, then yanked the panel open.

Light glinted off the swinging blade of a dagger.

Lyre leaped back with a yelp, the tip of the weapon catching his shirt and tearing a line across it. Half crouched inside the hidden room, a young girl brandished the dagger. Golden-feathered wings quivered against her back.

"Hold up!" Lyre raised his hands placatingly. "I won't hurt you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you? How did you find us?"

"I'm the one who put you in there and set up the wards."

The girl bit her lip, then lowered her weapon. A ruby sparkled in the center of her forehead, hanging from a delicate gold chain that disappeared into her long blond hair. Her scarlet skirt fluttered as she straightened. Several layers of fabric had been roughly cut away.

"We're going to get you out of here," Lyre promised, a soothing croon in his hypnotic voice. "There are enemies in the building. We don't have much time."

The girl drew in a shuddering breath and leaned against the doorframe, the heavy dagger trembling in her hand. Clio knew what the bone-deep fatigue of the shadow weave felt like, and she was impressed the girl could stand at all.

Lyre extended his hand, fingers spread invitingly. "Come on, princess. You'll be safe with us."

"I'm not leaving without him," the girl said, looking over her shoulder. A second griffin was slumped against the wall behind her. Strips of red fabric from her skirt were bound around his middle in a makeshift bandage.

Lyre also glanced into the room. "He's unconscious. We'll have to leave him, but I'm sure he'll be okay until?—"

" No . You said there are enemies here." The girl's voice quavered. "I'm not leaving without him."

Clio and Lyre exchanged unhappy looks. Should they immobilize the girl with a spell?

Seeing their hesitation—or perhaps sensing the direction of Clio's thoughts—the girl lifted her chin imperially. "I know how to get through the embassy without being seen. All you have to do is carry him."

"All right," Lyre said heavily. "But let's hurry."

He dragged the male griffin out of the safe room while the girl ran into the massive walk-in closet and returned with a red shawl. She and Clio used it to bind the griffin's wings against his back so they wouldn't drag.

Then Lyre heaved the daemon over his shoulder, grunting from the effort. "My apologies, ladies, but I need to drop glamour for this."

Shimmers rippled over his body, and when they faded, he straightened under the heavy burden.

"Wow," the girl breathed.

Clio silently agreed.

"Lead the way, princess," Lyre said, his bronze eyes darkened by urgency.

After one more wide-eyed, ogling look at him, the girl raced out of the room with Clio on her heels and Lyre trailing after them with the unconscious griffin.

"There's a hidden stairway," the girl said breathlessly as they entered a corridor lined with windows that offered a sweeping view of the city lights. "It will take us to a back exit. There's a car there. Can you drive?"

"I can," Lyre grunted.

The girl glanced at her limp companion, then increased her pace, her breath growing more labored. By the time they reached the stairs, hidden behind another concealed panel, she was staggering so badly that Clio had the girl climb onto her back. They raced down, down, down, then entered a barren concrete tunnel with water-streaked walls. At the end, a metal door opened into a spacious garage with four sleek black cars.

Irida was a wealthy territory, but Clio wondered just how much wealth Ra was hoarding. Vehicles on Earth were already hard to come by, but a small fleet of matching cars? The vehicles were worth a fortune all on their own.

"That one," the girl whispered, pointing weakly.

Clio tried the back door handle and found it unlocked. Pulling it open, she helped the girl inside, then raced around to assist Lyre with unloading the male griffin. They stuffed him into the back seat, slammed the doors, and Clio jumped into the passenger seat. By the time Lyre circled to the driver's side, he was back in glamour.

He found the keys in the ignition and started the engine. As he fumbled with a set of buttons—triggering the large garage door to slide upward—Clio's skin prickled warningly. She glanced around the garage as light from the streetlamps flooded in.

"Go, Lyre," she whispered. "Hurry."

He shifted the drive stick in a mysterious pattern, then hit the gas. The engine revved and the car tore out of the garage.

Red light flashed in her peripheral vision.

Two reapers had appeared beside the open garage door, and standing between them was an incubus with a glowing golden aura. As their car sped away, the incubus's icy stare bored into hers. He raised his hand toward the fleeing car and light danced over his fingers.

Lyre jerked the wheel and, tires squealing, the car skidded around a corner. The incubus vanished from view. Lyre steered through the streets at dangerous speeds, but Clio didn't watch the road. She stayed twisted in her seat, staring back at the shadow-swathed avenues.

Fear skittered along her nerves, and it wasn't until they'd left the downtown core behind and were bumping across a crumbling freeway that she finally settled into her seat properly.

The first incubus, the archer she'd seen through the embassy's front doors … Madrigal. But the cold incubus who'd almost caught them in the garage, almost stopped their escape at the very last moment …

Lyceus, the head of Chrysalis and Lyre's father.

Clio leaned against the armrest as Lyre brought the vehicle to a stop. He braced his elbows on the steering wheel, then dropped his head onto his arms.

In the back seat, the young princess had fallen asleep, curled against her unconscious guardian's side. The male griffin's age was difficult to read, but he was younger than Clio would have expected for a professional bodyguard. His clothes, scarlet with silver accents, had a military look to them, and an insignia marked his left shoulder.

The bandages around his middle were stained with blood. During the drive out of the city, Clio had checked his injuries and done a quick healing to stop the worst of the bleeding, but he needed proper care. With his magic drained by the shadow weave, he probably wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

Lyre let out a long, exhausted sigh. He'd parked off the highway in a clump of bushes, and she could sense the nearby ley line. Peering at her with one tired amber eye, he mumbled, "Well, overall, that was a huge bust."

She nodded glumly.

"Bastian attacked the embassy just like he planned. We did shit all to stop it." He rocked his head back and forth. "And he got away with the KLOC on top of that."

"But thanks to you, he didn't accomplish his main goal," she said bracingly. "We saved the princess."

"Yeah, if she'd died …" He pushed himself up and slumped back in his seat, the overhead light in the car casting sharp shadows across his face. "It's still bad though, Clio. Bad for Irida. Ra won't shrug this off just because their princess survived. I'm not well versed in inter-kingdom political decorum, but I'm fairly certain attacking an embassy is considered an act of war."

"I think so too," she agreed quietly. "And the nymph soldier you interrogated said this was just the beginning—just a ‘test.'"

"Now that Bastian's attack on the embassy was mostly a success, he'll probably pick a larger target for his next assault."

"What's a larger target than Brinford's Ra embassy?"

"Maybe Ra's holdings in Habinal City," he mused, referring to the human capital, "but for a truly impressive target, I don't think there is one … on Earth."

An ominous chill washed over her.

Lyre turned in his seat to face her, his expression bleak. "How much does your father know about Bastian's anti-Ra campaign?"

"I didn't have a chance to explain anything before I ran off to find you." She rubbed her forehead. "All the king knows is that Bastian left Irida with a few guards."

"Then he has no idea what his son is up to. That's a problem."

Clio nodded. If King Rouvin didn't know Bastian was recruiting soldiers and leading them in attacks against Ra targets, he couldn't do anything to stop it .

"Bastian is frustratingly clever. Using helicopters—a human technology—to hit the embassy with the shadow weave … I'd counted on the KLOC's restrictions to hold him back." Lyre ran his fingers through his hair, an unhappy expression pulling at his features. "Clio … your king needs to know what happened at the embassy tonight."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'll have to get a message to him or?—"

"No, I mean, he needs to know now ," Lyre cut in. "Before the Ra family finds out. If he's going to have any chance of preventing war, he needs to act immediately."

"But … how will we …"

He closed his eyes. When they opened again, the amber gleamed with hard resolution. " You need to tell him."

"Me?"

"Who else can? I can't. Bastian won't. The Ras will inform him with a declaration of war, and by then it'll be too late for diplomacy."

She let out a shaky breath. "Right. I guess it has to be me. But you could …" She trailed off hopelessly. "You can't come with me, can you?"

"It would just complicate matters. Besides"—he tilted his head toward the back seat—"someone needs to take care of the little princess. I'll figure out how to get her back with the griffins."

"That's too dangerous. Griffins aren't friendly toward Underworlders, and if they figure out who you are …"

"There's no way they'll guess who I am."

Clio pursed her lips. He had a point. Few daemons knew that Chrysalis's top-ranking master weavers were incubi, and the bounty on Lyre's head, if by some unlikely chance Ra had heard about it, didn't actually tie him to Chrysalis. Samael was too smart to reveal that one of his dangerous and highly valuable weavers was on the loose.

"Once you get the girl back to the Ras, what will you do?" she asked worriedly.

"I'll catch up with Ash and we'll start tracking Bastian again—see if we can figure out where he's gone to ground this time."

"Once I've filled the king in, I'll join you. Do you have any more of those signal spells so I can find you again? "

He nodded and opened his door. Outside the car, he shimmered out of glamour and dug into his pouch of spells. Waiting in her seat, she kept her eyes closed as soft but irresistible longing washed over her. When the feeling faded, she opened her eyes to find him safely back in glamour. He pulled her door open and she got out.

He passed her an azure gem. "Don't use it until you're back on Earth. And if I trigger mine, maybe barge in with a bit more caution than last time."

"I'll try to remember that." Her rueful smile faded, and she lightly touched his cheek where, under his glamour, an intricate family mark was tattooed on his skin. "Lyre, what about Madrigal and … your father?"

Fear lingered in his eyes. "I'll stay well out of their way. Ash is good at hiding, and he won't want any encounters with them either. He'll know how to steer clear."

"Will Ash help? He's supposed to kill you."

"He'll help … probably. Until we get the KLOC back." Humor chased the phantoms from his eyes. "When we meet up again, I imagine he'll have a few words for me—angry words with a lot of foul language."

"He won't be impressed that Bastian escaped right out from under us, will he?"

"Not one bit." Lyre chuckled. "I wonder how much I can irritate him? For an emotionless killing machine, it's surprisingly easy to rile him up."

"Um, maybe don't antagonize the assassin." Realizing she was still touching Lyre's cheek, she started to pull her hand back.

He caught it, holding her palm in place. "You should go now."

The words were soft, unhappy. Clio bit her lip, fighting back a wave of rising emotion. She wanted to tell him this felt wrong, that they should stay together.

The words stuck in her throat. Saying it … we belong together … would change something between them. She opened her mouth, then closed it, caught in indecision. Squeezing her eyes shut, she rose onto her tiptoes .

His warm mouth met hers without hesitation. She slid her arms around his neck and he pulled her against him. He kissed her with slowly building urgency until she was gasping for air, her head spinning.

With a final brush of his lips, he stepped back. His molten gold eyes slid across her face.

"Be careful in Irida," he said huskily. "You don't know who might be loyal to Bastian."

"You be careful too—with the princess and with Ash. Don't tick him off or he might change his mind."

"He's the definition of bullheaded. He won't change his mind." When she gave him a hard stare, Lyre laughed quietly. "But I'll be careful."

"Good." It took an effort of will to pry her arms off him. Her hands fell to her sides, cold and empty. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll be waiting."

Her chest tightened until it hurt. Why was this so difficult? Turning, she broke into a swift jog, racing into the trees. Racing away from him.

She didn't want to leave him behind again. Last time, Bastian had captured, tortured, and nearly killed him. This time, she was leaving him in even more uncertain circumstances. But she didn't have a choice. She would just have to return as quickly as she could.

She was so determined to keep moving that by the time she looked back, only the glare of the car's headlights was visible through the scraggly pine trees. Her heart lurched but she forced herself to keep going.

The ley line danced over the leafy ground, its warm power rushing across her senses. With effort, she put Lyre out of her mind and focused on the task before her. Return to Irida. See the king. Tell him … tell him his son had betrayed their homeland and put their people in terrible danger. Would the king believe her?

She stretched a hand toward the shimmering power, tasting its essence as she focused on the White Rock ley line a few miles north of the palace. Her other hand slipped into her pocket, closing around the tracking spell.

With a deep breath, she stepped into the ley line and cast herself into the Void between worlds.