Fever 3 - Faefever (23 page)

“Very well. I will bring it to you tomorrow night.”

I almost fell over. “Really?” Two surprises: Barrons wasn’t Unseelie, and he’d just agreed to hand over a priceless relic, asking nothing in return. Why was he being so nice? Was
this
his apology for last night?

“What’s the third thing you want, Ms. Lane?”

This one was going to be a little trickier. “What do you know about the walls between realms?”

“I know they’re paper-thin at the moment. I know some of the smaller, less powerful Fae have been slipping through the cracks, without the Lord Master’s help. The prison continues to contain the most powerful.”

His comment sidetracked me. “You know, that just doesn’t make sense. Why are the
less
powerful ones able to escape? I’d think it would be the other way around.”

“The walls were created from a formidable magic,” he said, “which no Fae has been able to match since. At great cost to herself, the queen wove living strands of the Song of Making into the walls of the prison, which slams the magic of the Unseelie back at them. The stronger the Unseelie, the stronger the wall; by attempting to break free, they actually join forces with their gaoler.”

Cool trick. “So, do you know why the walls are so thin?”

“Aren’t you Question Girl tonight?”

I gave him a look.

He smiled faintly. “Why are the walls so thin?”

“Because when the Compact was struck, humans were appointed to help maintain them. But those responsible for keeping them up with their rituals—the most important of which take place every Halloween—have been attacked by dark magic each time they’ve performed it over the past few years. They’ve exhausted the limits of their knowledge and power. If it happens again this year—and there’s every reason to expect it will—the walls will come down completely. Even the prison walls.”

“What does this have to do with me, Ms. Lane?”

“If the walls come down completely, all the Unseelie will get out, Barrons.”

“So?”

“You told me once you didn’t want that to happen.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s my problem.” He was looking bored again.

“This is the third action I want. I want you to
make
it your problem.”

“In what manner?”

“They think you can help them. Can you?”

He considered it. “Possibly.”

I wanted to strangle him. “
Will
you?”

“Motivate me.”

“If nothing else, it’ll keep me safer. A safer OOP detector is a happier one. Happier is more productive. ”

“You haven’t detected anything of use to me for several weeks.”

“You haven’t asked me to,” I said defensively.

“There’s an OOP you know I want, yet you withheld information from me about it.”

“You have that information now. What’s the problem?” Had I just sounded like V’lane?

“The problem is I still don’t have the OOP, Ms. Lane.”

“I’m working on it. I’ll be able to work faster, the safer I am. If the walls come down, every Unseelie out there will be hunting it, getting in my way. You told me once that you didn’t want more of them in your city. Was that a lie?”

“Point made. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to join them on Halloween and help them perform the ritual. And I want you to promise not to harm them.” Because of the delicate way I’d shaped our conversation, it sounded as if I was asking him to help the
sidhe
-seers.

He measured me a long moment, then said, “I’ll swap you an action for an action. Get me within sight distance of the
Sinsar Dubh,
and I’ll help your little friends.”

“Help my little friends,” I countered, “and I’ll get you within sight distance of the
Sinsar Dubh
.”

“I have your word?”

“You trust my word?”

“You’re an idealistic fool. Of course.”

“You have my word.” I’d deal with the problem of the promise I’d just made in the future. Right now, I needed to keep the walls up, and make sure the human race
had
a future.

“Then we have a deal. But your action doesn’t hinge on the outcome of mine. I will do my best to help them with their ritual, but I can’t assure you success. I know nothing of their abilities, and it’s magic I’ve not done before.”

I nodded. “I accept your condition. You’ll help them, and not harm them?”

“You trust my word?” he mocked.

“Of course not. You’re a cynical bastard. But they seem willing to.”

The faint smile was back. “I’ll help them and not harm them. Take a note, Ms. Lane: You undermine yourself as a negotiator when you permit your opponent to see emotion. Never betray emotion to an enemy.”

“Is that what you are?”

“It’s how you treat me. Be consistent and follow through on the finer nuances.” He turned away and moved toward the fire. “Who am I to assist and protect? The old witch herself?”

“It’s not the
sidhe
-seers.”

He stopped and went very still. “Who is it?”

“The MacKeltars.”

He was silent a long moment. Then he began to laugh, softly. “Well played, Ms. Lane.”

“I had a good teacher.”

“The best.
Hop on one foot, Ms. Lane.

” Voice lessons had begun.

I had a feeling they might be brutal tonight.

TWELVE

E
ven Rowena will have to believe in you, then.’ Isn’t that what you said, Kat? I did what you asked. I got the Orb. And now you’re telling me the old woman
still
won’t let me into her libraries?” I was so furious I nearly slammed down the phone.

“She said you’ll be welcome once the Orb has served its purpose, and the walls are standing strong.” Kat had been apologizing for several minutes, but it had done nothing to defuse my temper.

“That’s bogus and you know it! What if the walls come down anyway? I can’t help it if whatever she plans to do doesn’t work! I kept my part of the bargain.”

On the other end of the phone line, Kat sighed. “She said I had no right to speak for her in the first place. And I’m sorry I did, Mac. I didn’t intend to mislead you, please believe that.”

“What else did she say?” I asked tightly.

She hesitated. “That we were to cease all contact with you until after Samhain, and if we didn’t, then we no longer had a home at the abbey. That we could live in Dublin with you. She means it, too.”

I had a momentary flash of Barrons Books and Baubles overrun by young
sidhe
-seers, and the look on the intensely private owner’s face. A fleeting smile touched my lips before anger erased it. “And what did you say?”

“I said I didn’t think we should have to choose, or shut out a sister
sidhe
-seer when times were as dangerous as these, and I didn’t understand why she despised you so much. And she said she can see moral decay as clearly as she can see the Fae, and you’re . . .”

“I’m what?”

Kat cleared her throat. “Rotten to the core.”

Unbelievable! My rate of moral decay was about as high as my tooth decay—I didn’t have a single cavity. The woman hated me. She’d disliked me since the first, and my visit with V’lane had only made things worse.

I eyed the Orb, resting on the counter in a box padded with bubble-wrap. I was glad I’d refused to turn it over until I’d secured an invitation to return to the abbey from the Grand Mistress herself. “Then she can’t have the Orb,” I said flatly.

“She said that was what you’d say, and that it proved her point. She said you’d choose your pride over saving our world from the Fae,” said Kat.

What a clever, manipulative old bat! She’d had decades to perfect her politics. Until a few months ago the only politics I’d ever worried about were the two waitresses who always pretended they’d had terrible nights so they wouldn’t have to tip me out, as if my flair for swift, exceptional drink-making had played no part in their financial success.

“I told her she was wrong. That you care about us, and about the world. She’s being unfair, Mac. We know that. But we . . . well, we still need the Orb. We may not be able to get you inside the abbey, but we’ll . . . uh . . .” her voice dropped to a near-whisper, “we’ll help you as much as we can. Dani said she thinks she can get more pages from the book. And we might be able to slip a few others out, if you tell us what you’re looking for.”

My hand curled and uncurled. The spear felt heavy in my harness. “I need to know everything there is to know about the
Sinsar Dubh
. How you guys got it in the first place, how you were keeping it contained and where. I want to know every rumor, legend, and myth that has ever been told about it.”

“Those books are in the forbidden libraries. Only the Haven has access!”

“Then you’ll have to figure out how to break in.”

“Why don’t you ask, er . . . you know . . .
him . . .
to sift you in?” Kat said.

“I don’t want to involve V’lane in this.” I’d considered that already, and the mere thought of him in the same room with all those books about his race made me cringe. Arrogance alone might make him destroy them.
Humans have no right to know our ways,
he would sneer.

“You don’t trust him?”

His name was bittersweet, invasive on my tongue. “He’s Fae, Kat! He’s the ultimate in self-serving. We may be after the same goal of keeping the walls up, but to him humans are just a means to an end. Besides, the entire abbey would know we were there, and I’d be looking for a needle in a haystack, without enough time and seven hundred
sidhe
-seers closing in.” It was a bad idea, all the way around. “Do you know who the members of the Haven are, and if any of them might be persuaded to help?”

“I doubt it. Rowena selects them, for their loyalty to her. It didn’t used to be that way. I heard we used to vote on the council members back in the day, but after we lost the Book, things changed.”

Talk about tyranny. I
really
wanted to know what had happened twenty years ago, how the Book had been lost, who was to blame. “I also need to know about the Haven’s prophecy, and the five.”

“I’ve never heard of either,” Kat said.

“See if you can dig up something. And anything about the four translation stones, too.” I had a lot of questions I needed answered. Not to mention all the ones about where I’d come from. But for now, those were going to have to wait.

“Will do. What about the Orb, Mac?”

I stared broodingly at it. If I toughed it out until Halloween, and refused to let Rowena have it, might she relent and share information with me? I doubted it, but even if she did, what would that accomplish? What good would information serve at such a late hour? As the old woman had said, time was of the essence. I needed information
now
.

If the walls crashed, would the LM send every Unseelie in existence out hunting for the Book? Would the streets of Dublin run so thick with dark Fae that no
sidhe
-seer would dare enter them, not even me?

We couldn’t let things get that far. The walls
had
to stay up.

Maybe having the Orb in advance would help Rowena perfect the ritual she planned to perform. Between the
sidhe
seers, Barrons, and the MacKeltars, surely they could get the ritual right one more time, and buy me until next Halloween—an entire
year
—to figure things out. I swallowed my pride.
Again.
I was really beginning to resent the greater good.

Besides, there was an abbey full of
sidhe
-seers as worried as I was. I wanted them to know I was firmly on their side. Just not their leader’s. ”I’ll drop it by PHI sometime tomorrow, Kat,” I said finally. “But you guys owe me. A big one.
Several
big ones. And tell Rowena it’s a darn good thing one of us is grown-up enough to do the right thing.”

_____

At seven o’clock Saturday evening, I was sitting in the front conversation area of the bookstore, legs crossed, foot kicking air impatiently, waiting for Barrons.

Your problem, Ms. Lane,
he’d said last night, after he’d handed me the Orb,
is you’re still being passive. Sitting around, waiting for phone calls. Although Jayne wasn’t an entirely bad idea—

Jayne was a brilliant idea and you know it.

—time is not on our side. You must be aggressive. You promised me a sighting. I want it.

What do you suggest?

Tomorrow we hunt. Sleep late. I’ll be keeping you up all night.

I’d shrugged off a thrill of unwanted sexual awareness at his words. No doubt Barrons could keep a woman up all night.
Why night? Why not hunt the Book during the day?
Where did he go? What did he do?

I’ve been tracking crimes in the dailies. Night is its time. Has Jayne ever called you during the day?

There was that. He hadn’t.

Seven o’clock, Ms. Lane. You’ll have an hour of Voice first.

I stood up, stretched, caught sight of my reflection in the window, and admired the picture. My new jeans were French and fit like a dream, my sweater was pink and soft, my boots were Dolce & Gabbana, my jacket was Andrew Marc, made of the supplest black leather I’d ever seen, and I’d woven a brilliant pink, yellow, and purple silk scarf through my hair and taken my time with my makeup. I looked and felt great.

Barrons was still apologizing, or maybe just trying to get on my good side. This morning when I’d awakened there’d been four shopping totes and two hanging garment bags outside my bedroom door, full of new clothes. It wigged me out that Barrons had shopped for me. Especially considering what was in some of those bags. The man had exceptional taste and an eye for detail. Everything fit. That wigged me out, too.

The bell over the door tinkled and Barrons stepped in. He was night in an Armani suit, silver-toed boots, black shirt, and dark eyes.

“Not bothering with the mirror tonight?” I said breezily, “Or have you forgotten I know you walk around in it?”

“Kneel before me, Ms. Lane.”

His words surrounded me, infiltrated me, drove me to my knees, like a human before a Fae.

“Doesn’t that just burn?” He gave me one of his scarier smiles. “Kneeling to me must offend every ounce of your perky little being.”

I’d show him perky. Jaw clenched, I tried to rise. I tried to scratch my nose. I couldn’t even do that. I was as locked in place as a person in a body-encompassing straitjacket. “Why does your command lock down my whole body?” At least my vocal cords were working.

“It doesn’t. My order only holds you on your knees. The rest of you is free to move. You’re overmuscling yourself, struggling so hard you’re locking up. When someone uses Voice on you, they’ve got you only to the letter of their command. Remember that. Close your eyes, Ms. Lane.”

It wasn’t an order, but I did it anyway. I managed to wiggle my fingers then my entire hands. I poked around inside my head. The
sidhe
-seer place burned hot but everything else was dark. The
sidhe
-seer place didn’t have a thing to do with resisting Voice.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

What an odd question. Didn’t he know everything about me? I’d like to be able to Voice
him
on that one. “I’m Mac. MacKayla Lane.” Perhaps O’Connor in my blood, but Lane in my heart.

“Strip away the name. Who are you?”

I shrugged. Ha—now only my knees were rooted. The rest of me was moving freely. I swung my arms, to make sure he knew it. “A girl. Twenty-two. A
sidhe
-seer. A daught—”

“Labels,” he said impatiently. “Who the fuck are you, Ms. Lane?”

I opened my eyes. “I don’t get it.”

“Close your eyes.”
Voice ricocheted from wall to wall. My eyes closed as if they were his. “You exist only inside yourself,” he said. “No one sees you. You see no one. You are without censure, beyond judgment. There is no law. No right or wrong. How did you feel when you saw your sister’s body?”

Rage filled me. Rage at what had been done to her. Rage at him for bringing it up. The thought that no one could see or judge me was liberating. I swelled with grief and anger.

“Now tell me who you are.”

“Vengeance,” I said in a cold voice.

“Better, Ms. Lane. But try again.
And when you speak to me, bow your head.
”

I was bleeding by the time the night’s lesson was over. In several places. They were self-inflicted wounds.

I understood why he’d done it. This was tough, well, not love, but tough life lessons. I
had
to learn this. And I would do whatever it took.

When he’d made me pick up the knife and cut myself, I’d seen a glimmer of light in the darkness inside my skull. I’d still cut myself, but something deep inside me had stirred. It was there, somewhere, if I could just dig deep enough to get to it. I wondered who I’d be by the time I got there. Was this why Barrons was the way he was? Who had put Jericho Barrons on his knees? I could hardly even picture it.

“Did you hurt yourself when you learned?” I asked.

“Many times.”

“How long did it take you?”

He smiled faintly. “Years.”

“That’s unacceptable. I need this now. At least to be able to resist, or I’ll never be able to get near the LM.”

I thought he was going to argue with me about getting near the LM but he said only, “That’s why I’m skipping years of training, taking you far ahead into difficult territory. Tonight was only the beginning of . . . pain. If you’re not okay with where it’s going, tell me here, and now. I won’t ask again. I’ll push you as far as I think you can go.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m okay with it.”

“Go bandage yourself, Ms. Lane. Use this.” He withdrew a small bottle of ointment from his pocket.

“What is it?”

“It will speed the healing.”

When I returned, he held open the door, and ushered me into the night.

I glanced instinctively to the right. My gargantuan Shade was a dark cloud on top of the building next door. It loomed menacingly, and began to slither down the brick façade.

Barrons stepped out behind me.

The Shade retreated. “What
are
you?” I said irritably.

“In the Serengeti, Ms. Lane, I would be the cheetah. I’m stronger, smarter, faster, and hungrier than everything else out there. And I don’t apologize to the gazelle when I take it down.”

Sighing, I moved for the bike but he turned left. “We’re walking?” I was surprised.