Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

M ick had been taken from me before. On one occasion, a witch had imprisoned his mind, though Mick had been physically free to do what he liked. He'd also let himself be locked up a couple of times to complete a dragon-y ritual. In those instances, he could have escaped his prison if he'd wished, but he'd felt honor-bound to remain. He'd even been annoyed whenever I'd tried to rescue him.

This time was different—Mick had been captured by beings he couldn't fight. I knew by the sharp sting in my ring finger that he wasn't dead, at least not yet. But he could be anywhere, in this world or in some weird dimension inhabited by the Phantomwalkers.

"We will find him, Janet."

My father's gentle voice brought me back to myself. I stood in the sand a few steps beyond the parking lot, wind chilling me, the darkness dense. Most of the spectators had gone by now, and so had the bus driving the other team back to their town .

My aunts and cousins remained. I vaguely heard my young cousins babbling excitedly about how they'd whacked the skeletal demons with their basketballs. Hadn't that been so cool?

With them were Dad and Gina, Grandmother and Nitis, Gabrielle and Colby. I should have been one of a pair as well. My heart felt hollow.

Dad had drifted away from them to speak to me, and we stood relatively alone.

"He's in deep shi— in danger, Dad." I barely had the breath to speak.

My father laid a warm hand on my shoulder. "I know. But you and he have many friends. We will find him and bring him home."

I wanted to cling to him and weep. My dad didn't do wild embraces, so I controlled myself. His hand on my shoulder was enough.

Dad was right. Everyone in my circle liked Mick, and Titus and Drake at least respected him. I knew people. I had resources.

I swallowed. "I just don't know what to do. Where to start."

"Start with your grandmother. She always found you , didn't she?"

I choked out a laugh and swiped tears from my cheeks. Dad's wry smile held understanding. True, Grandmother had usually known where I was and always when I was getting into trouble.

We turned together and made our way back across the lot to where the knot of our family waited.

My young cousins were bouncing with excitement around Gabrielle. "I didn't know you were a shaman, Coach," Shirley said.

Gabrielle didn't correct Shirley about what type of magic she wielded. She managed a mysterious expression. "I try to keep it under wraps."

Colby, who knew exactly how much Gabrielle didn't bother to conceal her magic, chuckled.

"You were really badass," her sister Lily put in. "You can make sure we win all the games. We could go to nationals!"

Gabrielle sent them both an indulgent smile. "I won't use magic to cheat. You ladies are good—no need to enhance that except with training."

The girls looked a bit disappointed, but I felt a swell of pride in Gabrielle. It would have been a bigger surge if I hadn't been so concerned about Mick.

"Don't worry, Janet," Gabrielle said with confidence. "We'll find him. Mick is amazingly strong. He'll be all right until we do."

Colby didn't appear as optimistic. He'd seen firsthand how impervious the Phantomwalkers were to dragon magic.

"I appreciate it," I managed to say. I could barely speak—breathing was like lifting a heavy weight.

They'd taken Mick north, Nitis had said, but that was a fairly vague direction. Many things were north. The rest of the Navajo Nation. Utah. Montana and Wyoming. Canada. Alaska. The fucking North Pole.

Plus, they could have turned aside anywhere, heading a different way entirely.

I needed to think. I also needed a witch who could locate people .

"I'm going back to the hotel." I wheezed the words. "Can anyone give me a ride? I don't think I can drive myself."

"I can lend you a wing," Colby offered.

"And I'll ride your motorcycle back for you," Gabrielle said brightly.

Grandmother broke in firmly. "No, you will not. The Firewalker will carry Janet to the Crossroads because she needs to go swiftly. You will follow with Pete, Gina, and me in the truck, and the Old Crow will take Janet's motorcycle."

Gabrielle's dismay at the prospect of being squashed for several hours in Dad's pickup with Grandmother was palpable, but she bravely lifted her chin.

"Sure thing," she said in resignation. "Don't drop Janet, Colby. I've only just started liking her."

Colby pressed a hand to his chest in feigned offence. "I'd never do that. I'm a careful flyer."

I'd had Colby fly me places before. No, he was not.

I had no choice now, however. I needed to reach Cassandra and start hunting for Mick.

I lifted Mick's backpack from my motorcycle and hugged it to my chest. After a moment's inner debate, I decided to leave the egg in Gina's capable hands. If the Phantomwalkers attacked Colby en route, he wouldn't be able to defend himself, and I might drop the egg trying to save him. Gabrielle had proved she could fend off the Phantomwalkers, and so the egg would be safer with her. Nitis had proved this as well, though I still wasn't certain I could trust him. I trusted Grandmother, though.

I swallowed as I patted the bowling bag in farewell, hoping all of us made it to the hotel in one piece .

Colby, once dragon, took off in the way he always did—arrowing up into the sky and doing a near somersault to straighten himself out. I bit back a scream, willing my stomach to stay in place. It did no good to yell at him—he wouldn't listen even if he could hear me.

Thankfully, we reached the hotel in only about twenty minutes. Colby set me down beyond the railroad bed before flapping off into the darkness to become human.

I left his clothes in a pile for him and trudged to the hotel. Setting Mick's backpack in my bedroom, which was cold without him, I made my way down the short hall to the front rooms.

A party was going strong in the lobby. I stood in the doorway, taking in people everywhere, drinks in hands, music booming. Carlos ran from the saloon with a tray to replenish empties. Flora helped him, chattering and smiling at everyone as she liked to do.

"Oh, hey, Janet." Fremont Hansen saluted me with a beer bottle as he sauntered toward me. "What's up?"

"I was about to ask you that." At least I could talk once more. My breathing was almost normal again, though I had a stitch in my side as though I'd been running.

"Carl Jones's idea. He's celebrating not being taken to jail."

I recalled the image of Coyote picking up Jones's grandfather on the side of a highway yesterday, after Carl had taken off with Mick's bike. Coyote might have threatened to lock Carl up then pretended to go easy on him and brought him back here. The threat would have been empty, because Coyote wasn't a real cop, but Carl wouldn't know that.

"Great," I said wearily. "Where is Cassandra? "

Fremont waved his bottle in a vague direction. "Somewhere. Those girls are wild, aren't they?"

The Horribles were in full swing. The daughters danced from male to male, which included their own husbands, Carlos, Grandfather Jones, and a Native American man dressed in a tribal cop uniform.

"Coyote!" I yelled.

He either didn't hear me or was having too much fun shimmying his hips in time with Allie's.

With renewed strength I marched over and laid a firm hand on Coyote's shoulder.

"Hey!" Allie shouted with a glare. "He's dancing with me ."

Coyote started to make kissing noises at both of us, but then he saw my face. His grin deserted him.

"Sorry, babe," he told Allie. "I gotta take this."

Allie pouted, but then she caught sight of Colby, who'd come in through the patio, and brightened considerably.

"Hey, who started the party without me?" Colby asked the room.

Allie squealed in excitement and made a beeline for him. No one answered Colby, but Allie grabbed his hands and pulled him into the dance. Since Colby could worry about dire danger and enjoy himself at the same time, he put his hands in the air and started waving his butt in rhythm to the beat.

"What's going on?" Coyote asked in a serious tone as I ushered him into my office. "You okay, hon? You look beat."

I slumped into the chair behind my desk and buried my face in my hands. "Mick is gone."

Before Coyote could ask me startled questions, I told him the tale, from Mick and I seeking Cesnia's island, to heading for the dragon compound, to the battle in the school gym.

"Phantomwalkers," Coyote repeated when I'd finished. "Is that what they're calling themselves? Holy shit. I thought they were long gone."

"You know what they are?"

"Mistakes." Coyote's expression was grim. He settled into the visitor's chair and rested his arms on his thighs. "They were dragons almost created. Not quite finished. Like pottery that melts or breaks in the kiln instead of hardening. The gods who created dragons threw them out—as one would with ruined pots. They kept on until they'd perfected the dragons we now know and love."

His explanation was similar to Farrell's. If true, it was no wonder the Phantomwalkers hated and wanted to kill all dragons. Gabrielle had loathed me for a similar reason—our mother had caused Gabrielle to be born and then rejected her in favor of me, because I had a mix of Beneath and earth magic, instead of only Beneath. Gabrielle had nursed a resentment that had nearly killed me. The perils of bad parenting.

"They don't look anything like dragons," I said. "One was made of rock. The others were like dead humans."

"Because they didn't fully form, they can swap out their appearance," Coyote explained. "They're inspired by nightmares, or what people—or dragons—fear most. In any form, they can kill, and as you said, dragon fire doesn't harm them."

"Dragon fire harms other dragons," I pointed out. "They just have thick hides and are good at getting out of the way. Why wouldn't it harm these phantom things? "

Coyote shrugged. "I don't know all the laws of physics for dragonkind. Or what their gods were capable of creating. Let's take it as given that dragons have no defense against Phantomwalkers. What are we going to do?"

"I was hoping you would know," I said, frustrated anger rising.

Coyote left the chair and moved around the desk to gather me into his arms. I resisted at first, because I feared I'd fall apart if I surrendered, but his warm comfort overcame me.

I sometimes forgot Coyote was a powerful god, ancient, wise beyond any understanding of the word. He held me in a kind embrace, which soothed rather than bound.

I sobbed, ugly crying that had wanted to emerge since Mick had disappeared. The memory of us in Cesnia's guest room last night, making love on the soft mattress, welled in my head. And the wild time in the cave, after we'd defeated the rock creature, Mick's wicked eyes and loving smile making me come apart.

The tightness in my side loosened while I cried, as did the final heaviness in my chest. I blubbered like a baby on Coyote's shoulder, and he patted my back and held me like a friend.

Coyote smelled of desert things: wind, dust, grasses. For a moment I thought I saw a coyote superimposed on his large human body, the two beings one. At the same time, I caught a glimpse of something unfathomable, a light that would blind any mortal who gazed at it too closely. Coyote kept himself in a form we'd understand, I realized, so we'd survive an encounter with him.

I blinked, and the image vanished. I was resting on a man's muscular shoulder, his khaki police uniform now damp with my tears.

I raised my head, drying my eyes. "Sorry."

Coyote shrugged. Here was the affable man who hung out in the middle of town, telling stories to tourists, and making kids laugh. I hadn't imagined the amazingly powerful being I'd witnessed in him, but he did his best to pretend I'd seen nothing remarkable.

"You needed to get that out of your system," Coyote said as he sat down again. "Now, what are your plans for getting Mick back?"

The whirling thoughts in my head were nothing like plans , but I had some ideas.

"Cassandra might be able to get a fix on Mick's position," I said, drawing a shaking breath. "I need to alert Drake and Titus. Once I know where Mick is, even more or less, I'll take Gabrielle and the dragons with me to rescue him. Nash could be useful too, if he understands the danger. His null magic worked against the lightning mesh the Phantomwalkers threw at us, so maybe he can counteract them. Also, Nitis. He seems to be the only one besides me and Gabrielle who can harm these creatures."

"Nitis?" Coyote frowned. "Who's Nitis?"

"He's been hanging around here for some time, watching the hotel." I wondered if Nitis had known what was about to happen with the egg and everything else, or if he'd only been following Grandmother. "Grandmother calls him the Old Crow."

Coyote drew back. "Seriously?"

I blinked at his reaction. "Yes, why? I don't know anything about this guy, except he can become a huge crow, and he's saved our butts a couple of times. "

Coyote glanced out the window, as though checking to make sure Nitis wasn't out back. "He's an ancient being," he said surreptitiously. "Like me."

"Don't tell me." I drew a breath, relieved my lungs were functioning normally again. "You and he have tangled in the past?"

"Maybe. You know how Coyote the Trickster goes after the ladies."

I rolled my eyes. "You went after his lady? That's just great, Coyote. Since I've never seen her around, can I take it she rebuffed you and stayed with Nitis?"

"No, she ditched us both. She decided to go to Norway and hang out with Norse gods instead. I guess she likes the cold. The Old Crow wasn't too happy with me."

I gave him a narrow-eyed stare. "This was before you married Bear—right?"

"Right. Right. Of course," Coyote spluttered, but I couldn't tell if he lied or was simply nervous talking about his formidable wife.

"Well, patch things up with Nitis," I said. "I need him, and I need you. These things could kill Mick, not to mention Cesnia's kid and all the other dragons too."

Coyote recovered his self-assurance. "Dragons have done a lot of bad things to you, Janet, if you recall. I understand why you want to save Mick, and I'll help you with that, but your life would be much easier if the other dragons were gone."

I huffed in irritation that rose to outrage. "Colby is a friend. Drake and Titus are decent guys, and I'm certainly not going to let anything happen to Cesnia's egg. The other dragons are pains in my ass, yes, but they don't deserve to be slaughtered. It's not their fault their makers couldn't get things right during the formation of the Earth."

Coyote nodded along as I burst out with this speech, his approval rising. "I'm glad you think that way. That's my girl."

"And I wish everyone would stop expecting me to turn into my evil goddess mom," I snapped. "I'm saving Mick and the rest of the dragons. End of story."

Coyote lifted his hands. "I'm just saying I love you."

"You have the most aggravating way of showing affection, I swear?—"

A male voice raised in fury in the lobby cut me off. "What in the hell is going on in here?"

"Oops," Coyote said. "We maybe forgot to tell him Carl was safe. Or that he took off at all."

"Forgot?" I was up and around my desk in a heartbeat. "Thanks a lot, Coyote. You know who he's going to blame for everything , right?"

"You know, both of you need to cut Carl some slack," Coyote answered with a frown. "He's allowed to live his life even if it inconveniences you."

"I'm happy to let him do whatever the hell he wants, as long as I don't have to answer to his grandson."

I marched out of the room to find Nash, furious, his gray eyes glinting as he glared at Carl, who danced happily with one of the Horrible sisters.

Nash saw me. "Begay."

I raised my hands in surrender. "He's fine," I yelled over the music.

"Not the point."

Maya Medina tripped in behind Nash. She appeared as annoyed as he was, until she surveyed the room and the dancers.

"Why didn't you tell me you were having a party?" she yelled to me. "I would have dressed up."

Maya looked gorgeous, as always, in dark blue jeans, clingy sweater, and a short jacket. Even in sensible sneakers, she managed to be sexy.

Allie waved her arms over her head. "Join us."

"I will." Maya pushed past Nash and was dancing before she reached Allie and Colby. Carl and Yvonne joined them.

Nash curled his lip at me and pointed at the relatively empty saloon. I sighed heavily and followed him in.

The music was not as loud in here. Cassandra had taken refuge at a corner table, her face pinched as she tried to work on her laptop. Pamela, who must have come to pick her up, had planted herself in the chair across from Cassandra, arms folded in impatience.

"Why didn't you tell me my grandfather had gone for another joyride?" Nash demanded as soon as we could hear ourselves. "Fremont's cousin happened to mention it to me while Maya and I were grabbing some dinner." Of course, Fremont would have spread the tale through his gossipy family. "You promised me you'd take care of him."

"First of all, I can't handcuff him and lock him in a cell." I was sorry as soon as the words left my mouth, because I saw Nash thinking that was a good idea. "Second, Coyote found him quickly and brought him home safely. Third, I've been a little busy ." My voice broke, concern for Mick gripping me anew.

"Damn it," Nash growled. "I'll have to find a high-security assisted-living place, which I can't afford, because no one can keep him out of trouble." His fury abruptly abated. "He's my only family."

I decided not to point out his brother in New Mexico and his cousin Ada in Flag. I realized he meant the only family he worried deeply about.

I opened my mouth to argue that Carl was obviously fine and currently enjoying himself, when the mirror shrieked.

"Stop! Oh, nooo! Jaaa- neeettt ." Its screech cut off as darkness filled the mirror. The inky blackness blotted out the reflected saloon, me, Nash, Cassandra and Pamela, and the dancers in the lobby.

Cassandra jerked her head up, and Pamela rose like the predator she was, her wolf's snarl in her throat. Nash, who couldn't hear the mirror or detect when magical things were happening, stared at me in exasperated bafflement.

Cassandra gasped as the empty skull faces of five Phantomwalkers filled the mirror's surface. Five voices, nearly identical and overlapping each other, floated out in a guttural whisper.

"Give us the egg. We give you Micalerianicum."