Blood Magic (24 page)

This is not wholly inaccurate, but it is not applicable to our current problem. He—ah, I perceive that he requires additional oxygen. I believe your tech includes a device which . . . yes
, Sam said as Cynna fitted the oxygen mask over Cullen’s face.
That will help. I have instructed the healer to return. Cullen Seabourne is reluctant to be put back in sleep, but will require that shortly.

Cynna’s face creased with fresh worry. “He could rest now.”

I observe his physical functions, Cynna Weaver. He tires, but he does not fail.

He directs his thoughts to the Chimei once more. He believes the Chimei has surrendered a portion of her name to her lover, or somehow shares her name with him, or perhaps imposed a portion of it upon him. He remembers that Li Lei spoke of the Chimei marking her lovers. He sees differences between these variants, but believes any of them might create a bond that allows the sorcerer to use some of the Chimei’s innate abilities. He thinks this must work both ways—the Chimei must need or desire the sorcerer’s abilities as well. He speculates that the Chimei may be too instinctive in her use of magic to craft spells without such a bond.

He speculates on the sorcerer’s desire for his death. He believes the sorcerer fears that another sorcerer might discover the name with which he and the Chimei are bonded. Cullen Seabourne considers it unlikely that anyone other than a sorcerer—or possibly, he adds, a dragon—would be able to use a true name effectively. He is wrong.

Cullen glared and dragged the oxygen mask down. “Better . . . explain.” Cynna glared back at him and replaced the mask.

It wasn’t Sam who explained. It was Grandmother. “He is wrong on two counts. First, it is not sorcerers who are best able to use a true name. It is those who possess one themselves.”

A general silence fell. Lily frowned. “That presents a problem. I don’t think any of us have a true name. Except for Sam, I suppose, but he can’t act against the sorcerer or the Chimei. Wait a minute. Maybe Max—”

Names function somewhat differently with gnomes, and the one you call Max is divided in his nature. Neither Cynna Weaver nor Cullen Seabourne possess their names. Li Lei does, of course. She knew her name at seventeen, but she is restricted, as am I. Lily Yu, your soul was sundered. You will not know your name until that sundering is healed. Rule Turner, however, lives with portions of two names. They are not his alone, but they are true.

Rule’s nostrils flared as if he’d scented something. After a moment he nodded.

It took Lily longer to catch on. Sam was talking about the mantles—which he wasn’t supposed to know about. She glanced at Rule, eyebrows lifted.

He tilted his head in a gesture that was neither a nod nor a shake. She took that to mean something along the lines of: Sam’s a dragon. Who knows what he knows?

It is possible
, Sam continued,
that the possession of these names will grant Rule Turner some immunity from the Chimei’s mind-magic. I will speak with him privately about this.

Lily’s eyebrows rose. Rule was frowning abstractedly, maybe listening to Sam. “Good to know. Let’s see if I’m following so far. If we somehow learned this secret name, which belongs to both of them, Rule could use it to . . . do what? Command one or both of them?”

I am unable to respond to your question. Cullen Seabourne speculates, but his lack of knowledge renders his speculations questionable.

There was a muffled snort from the bed. Cullen reached up to pull off the oxygen mask—and Cynna clamped a hand over it, narrowing her eyes at him. He sighed and let his hand drop.

Lily figured he must be frustrated. She sure was. The name business was important, or Sam wouldn’t have spent so much time on it. But they didn’t know why it mattered, how to learn a true name, or how to use it if they learned it.

Lily opened her mouth to ask another question, but Rule beat her to it. “Madame Yu, I interrupted when Lily asked why you came out of hiding. I hope you will answer that now. I also wonder why you hid in the first place. It seems out of character.”

“You are perceptive.” Grandmother said that much, then fell silent, her expression turning inward. Was she consulting with Sam? Checking to see what the treaty would allow her to say?

“I will answer,” she said at last. “There is no longer any value to my remaining hidden. The sorcerer changed the . . . Bah, what is the word?
Parameters.
He changed the parameters under which the cursed treaty forces us to act. With this, he placed himself in danger. He does not realize this; I think the Chimei will. She will act to protect her lover. She will act soon, and harshly.”

THIRTY

GRANDMOTHER
stopped there, her face grim.

“And why,” Rule prompted gently, “did you hide?”

“To delay her, of course. To keep her attention on finding me. She wants me to suffer. How can she know I suffer if she cannot find me? But I can no longer delay her by hiding, so I stop hiding. I will move in with my son and daughter-in-law. Sam disagrees with this, but I will not leave them unguarded. Lily, I will instruct your sisters and brother-in-law to join me there. Once the Chimei acts, matters will be . . . less stable.”

Lily tried to imagine how that would work—her mother, sisters, brother-in-law, and grandmother beneath one roof. The mind boggled. “I don’t know if Susan and Beth will do that,” she said dubiously. “Not without knowing what’s going on, and we won’t be able to tell them.”

Grandmother fixed Lily with a steady gaze and answered in Chinese—a sure sign of displeasure. The gist of it was, “I have not cultivated my position as autocrat all these years to have them disobey me now. They will do as they are told.”

Well, yes. If Grandmother looked at them like that, they probably would. But it was going to be lively in Lily’s old home. “What kind of action do you expect the Chimei to take?”

Grandmother shrugged. “Something large and messy. Something she has done before. She has not an original mind. She has great patience, great power, but she does not change readily.”

“Can you give us more of a clue?”

Grandmother’s lips thinned. She shook her head.

“Okay. Back to Cullen. You said he was wrong on two counts and told us about names. What’s the other way he was wrong?”

She arched her eyebrows. “Mr. Seabourne possesses more than one ability which the sorcerer fears.”

“Shit!” Lily exclaimed as the obvious jumped up and bit her. “Mage fire. Of course. That’s what he’s afraid of. It’s supposed to burn anything. Maybe it couldn’t kill the Chimei, but it could damned sure hurt her.”

Cullen Seabourne’s thoughts contain many profanities
, Sam observed.
He castigates himself for not perceiving this earlier. He speculates that mage fire might disrupt the bond between our enemies. He wishes me to share with you his belief that a sorcerer who participates to some degree in his lover’s immortality might be hard to kill by normal means.

Probably true, but killing him wasn’t the goal, so that wasn’t a major problem. Lily was more concerned with what to do with him once they caught him. “We’ll keep it in mind, Cullen, but you’re in no shape to toss around mage fire, and won’t be for some time.”

She glanced around at the others. “Assume we find the sorcerer. How do we incarcerate him if he can burn things down or pick locks magically or whatever? I’d rather not duplicate the techniques used in the Purge.” Back then, they’d cut out tongues and lopped off hands. And that was with the people they suspected of being sorcerers, but not workers of dark magic. The ones they thought were into the bad shit they’d killed any way they could.

Rule and Grandmother exchanged a look.

“Oh, no,” Lily said. “We are not going there. Murder isn’t an option.”

“Not for you,” Grandmother said equably. “You are an agent of the law, the government. It is very bad if governments start assassinating people.”

“It’s not an option for anyone in this room.” Lily looked at Rule when she said that. “It’s also very bad if governments sanction murder by looking the other way.”

He met her eyes steadily. “I’ll decide for myself what my options are. But killing isn’t my first choice, so we’ll talk about our other options.”

First they had to think of one. So far, she hadn’t.

Cynna spoke suddenly. “Send him to Edge.”

Lily looked at her, startled. So did everyone else.

“It makes sense,” Cynna said. “We’re not set up to deal with magical heavyweights. They are. Shit, they cope with elves. This sorcerer dude can’t be harder to deal with than the Sidhe.”

Send him to another realm. Yes. It might work. “We could sedate him,” Lily said. “Catch him, keep him sedated, fly him across the country, and shove him through the gate.”

“Banishment is an old punishment,” Rule said, “which means there is precedent. The law appreciates precedent. In modern times there’s extraordinary rendition—”

“Which is only quasi-legal,” Lily said, frowning.

“
Quasi
may be as close as we can get. Given sufficient payment, the gnomes who govern Edge might agree.”

“What about the Chimei?” Lily asked. “Would she be able to follow him there? Can she cross without using a gate? The gnomes might not be willing to take the sorcerer if she tags along.”

“I am not sure,” Grandmother said slowly. “I had not considered this before. I think she could cross, yes. I do not know if she would do so.”

“Sam?” Rule said.

Chimei can travel between realms. It would be costly to her, however. I had not considered this possibility. I will do so.
He was silent a moment.
I believe Cynna Weaver has changed the parameters again with her idea. I am able to tell you that this would be a temporary solution. If you are able to banish the sorcerer and if the Chimei follows her lover—which is far from certain—she will seek to free him and return here.

“How temporary?” Rule asked.

I cannot say. Twenty years, fifty, a few hundred . . . a considerable delay by your standards, I suppose.

“It could work.” Lily’s mind was starting to buzz with possibilities. “I’ll call Ruben. No, shit, why bother? I’d have to be able to tell him about the Chimei.” She looked at Rule. “You can tell him.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow,” Rule began.

Lily’s phone interrupted with “The Star-Spangled Banner.” It was clipped to her jacket pocket, so she had to retrieve that to get the phone and accept the call. “Lily Yu here.”

“I’m glad you still are. I heard about the fire,” Ruben said.

She winced. “I should have called. Everything’s happened pretty fast, but I should have called. Cullen’s okay. All of our people are, but there were casualties. The . . .” She paused, waiting to see if the damned geas would stop her.

To her surprise, it didn’t. “The perp’s a sorcerer. Evidence suggests he started two fires here—I’m at the hospital—using magic, plus he used some kind of broadcast spell to knock people out, so this is our case. Magic used in the commission of a felony. He wanted a distraction so he could plant a bomb in Cullen’s room. Rule found the bomb and tossed it out a window.”

“Mr. Turner is certainly competent.”

“I think so, too. This perp’s the one who tried to kill Cullen last night. He’s a sorcerer, like I said, capabilities largely unknown, but he’s powerful. I caught a glimpse of a man I believe was him. The man is Asian, apparent age between thirty and fifty, clean-shaven, height between five-three and five-six, weight maybe one-forty. He might be Chinese. Han Chinese, specifically. I think he is. He didn’t look Mongolian or Korean or Japanese. I think he’s a pro. A hitter. He likes to use a knife strike to the heart, but he can change up if he needs to. He used a bomb today.”

There was a moment’s silence. “That’s substantially more information than you gave me this morning.”

“When he started burning things, the, ah, the binding on me changed. It didn’t go away, but the terms of it changed. I need to tell you about the other perp. She’s the real problem. She—” Her voice shut off. Just closed up. “I can’t. I can’t say anything more.”

“Interesting. I—”

The door opened. Lily dropped her phone and had her weapon in her hand before she even thought of it.

Nettie stepped in, with Jason behind her. “Sorry. Should have knocked first. We’ve got an ambulance waiting. Rule, we’re short on personnel. I need you to handle one end of the gurney. Jason can tell you what to do. Cynna, you’ll have to follow in a car. There isn’t room in the ambulance.”

Lily put up her weapon and bent to pick up the phone. It still worked. “Sorry,” she told Ruben. “I, ah, dropped the phone and didn’t hear that last part. Nettie and Jason are here. They’re ready to move Cullen.”

“I said that I’d run a check on your possible hitter.”

“I looked for similars already. There’s a real dearth of top-dollar Asian killers who like to use a knife to the heart, partly because most hitters prefer a gun. There’s one woman who might be Asian who likes knives—descriptions for her vary from Puerto Rican to Italian to Asian—but my perp’s definitely male. There’s a Japanese hitter who uses a blade, but he’s in top-security lockup in Kansas.”

“Hmm. Did you have Ida query other nations?”

“Ah—not specifically.”

“I’ll look into it. I can see this isn’t the time to request a report, but I need your attention for one more moment. I called in part to assure myself you were uninjured, but I also wanted to let you know that my sense of urgency increased just before I heard about the fire at the hospital. I’m flying out today instead of tomorrow. I should arrive shortly before ten your time.”

“You want me to pick you up?”

“Thank you, but no. Ida has arranged all that. Take care, Lily.” He disconnected.

Lily frowned as she slid the phone in her slacks pocket, clipping it to the material. “You heard that?” she said to Rule as he came up to her.

He nodded. “I’ll be going with Cullen.”

“I heard.” Grandmother had left her chair and was saying something to Cynna, who nodded seriously. Nettie and Jason began the business of transferring Cullen to the gurney.

“After that, I need to go see Toby. Also my father and the Rhej.”

Her frown deepened. That sounded like clan business—well, not the part about Toby, but the rest. She couldn’t imagine what had happened that could be seen as clan business. And couldn’t ask, dammit, with non-clan present.

Rule smiled and rubbed his thumb between her brows as if he could erase the frown. “I’ll explain later. You’ll be tied up here awhile.”

“Yeah. I’ve got something brewing for tonight. A lead on the sorcerer, maybe.”

“There are some things you need to tell me, too, it seems.”

She nodded. “No time now. You’re wanted.”

He quirked his brows in a way that gave an annoyingly accurate double meaning to her words, then turned to help with the gurney. In a moment, they were gone.

All except Grandmother. It dawned on Lily that this might be a problem. She went to the old woman, who was two inches shorter than her. It was easy to forget that—in part because Grandmother seldom allowed others to stand around her. “Have you got transportation? You said you’d been walking. I might be able to get someone to drive you, but it could be a while.”

For a moment Grandmother didn’t respond. Then she smiled, oddly tender, and patted Lily’s cheek. “You please me, Granddaughter. All my grandchildren please me, but it has been a special joy to watch you Becoming.”

Flustered beyond words, Lily did the one thing that occurred to her. She bent ever so slightly and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. The tingle of magic on her lips was dear, familiar, unique.

It didn’t feel like dragon magic. It felt like Grandmother’s magic.

Grandmother’s smile lingered. “You are upset because I did not tell you of your heritage.”

“I . . . yes. Yes, I am. Your story is your own, but that part, about my magic being from dragons—that was about me, too.”

Grandmother nodded. “Our stories are never completely our own. This is illusion. They are also the stories of our fathers and mothers, our children and ancestors, of all those we brush against for one second, or laugh with, or love, or fight, or kill. Mostly we do not see this, but it is so. This part of my story, which is also yours, belongs to Sam as well. When magic grew thin here and dragons removed to Dis, I did not go with them. With him. I needed a child, which he could not give me, so I remained.

“He returned me to this form, which was capable of children. This was a powerful working, and cost him much. He did this for love of me, knowing my need. He asked of me one thing: that if I should have a child and if that child, or that child’s child, should bear anything of him, I was not to speak of it or allow the child to know. That was his to do.

“I agreed. He could have asked a great deal more. I would have agreed, for love of him.”

Lily swallowed. This was a Mt. Everest of candor and revelation, and it moved her near to tears. “He expected to return.”

“He knew he would. He did not know when.”

“And he . . . he wanted to be the one to tell me about my heritage?”

“You wonder why. I know, as much as one may know such things about another, but I do not speak of it. That is very much his story, and a dragon story, and you are not dragon. You have an inheritance from dragons, but you are not dragon. He will tell you himself, or he won’t.”

“Is there . . . is there more you haven’t told me? More I should know, because it’s my story, too?”

Lily saw something rare on Grandmother’s face then. Pure surprise. It flashed over her, melding almost instantly into a chuckle. “Oh, you are bright. Yes. There is more, and I will not speak of it today. I have reasons, which may be wrong or right, but are my best judgment. If I should die in the next few days—”

“Grandmother!”

“I do not intend it, child. But the Chimei is a formidable enemy, and she longs for my death. If I should die with these other matters untold, it will be left to Li Qin to choose the time and place of the telling.”

“Li Qin? Not Sam?”

“That part of my story is a woman’s story, and not for Sam to tell. Enough.” Grandmother’s posture changed subtly, yet unmistakably. The time for stories and candor was at an end. She glanced around. “Is there a telephone here?”

“A telephone?” Lily’s mind was in too many places at once. She couldn’t imagine why Grandmother—who hated telephones—suddenly wanted one.

“I require a taxicab.”

“I can get you a taxi.” Lily reached in her pocket for her phone. “But you hate them. You say they’re all driven by incompetent apes who—”

“Bah. I have survived things you could hardly conceive. I can survive a ride in a taxicab.”