Forged in Fire (38 page)

“Gunther’s hurt,” she said, handing him the shotgun. “How’s Deidre?”

“Fine,” he said, turning back to the house. “But they took the kids.”

“Yeah. Wrecked the place. What was that about?”

“Not sure,” he said, turning toward the house. “But I’m sure as hell gonna find out.”

“Time to call in the cavalry?” she asked.

“Aye. Fucking DEFCON one. We’ll go after them as soon as we can get moving.”

They hobbled back to the house. Maybe Bub knew something.

Sixty-three

K
atie screamed, and
I
sat bolt upright.
T
he candles were nearly spent, and the house was suddenly cold. “What the hell’s going on?” I asked, letting the blankets fall to my waist.

“Get up, get up,” Bub shrieked. “They’ve taken the children.” He pulled on my hand, trembling. “They raided the house, blood everywhere. You must get up.”

“What the hell are you talking about, and how did you get here?” I asked, pulling the sheet back up to my neck.

“He’s come to the farm,” Bub said, staggering to the side. I dropped the sheet and caught him. He shook violently, near to collapse. “The accursed one. He’s taken some item of power. I felt it. Someone has helped him invade Black Briar. Even now he speeds toward our home.”

Katie was already getting dressed when Bub fell on top of me. I rolled to the side, letting him lay in the spot I’d just vacated. “Hang on, big guy.” His eyes were shocky. “Did you port here from Black Briar?”

He nodded, but did not speak.

Holy crap. I got up and ran into the kitchen, naked and freezing. “Call Skella,” I shouted as I grabbed the remains of the bread and salami from the counter. I dodged back into the living room and held the food out to Bub. Teleporting that far was beyond anything I’d ever seen or heard of him doing. It had to have taken it out of him. He ate the bread and salami in two great gulps and then accepted a pitcher of water.

Katie was tossing me my clothes, which were scattered all over the living room and kitchen.

“Call Skella,” I said, pulling a T-shirt over my head.

“No use,” Bub said, shivering. “They’ve smashed all the mirrors.”

I knelt by him and rubbed his head. “We’ll head to Chumstick,” I told him. “How much head start do they have?”

“Minutes,” he said. “They took Jai Li.” I could hear the shame in his voice.

“Not your fault,” I said, looking over to Katie. “She was supposed to be safe there.”

“Fuck,” Katie said into her cell phone. She ran into the bedroom, yelling. She came back out with her guitar slung over her back and a short sword at her belt. “Bike?” she asked.

“Yeah, faster. Hope you can keep us warm.”

She nodded and handed me Gram. I finished getting dressed, slung Gram in her shoulder rig, and went back to Bub.

“You rest here,” I told him. “You’ve done enough. We’ll go get them.”

He grabbed my hand, his claws digging into the back. “He means to kill her,” he said and passed out.

“Damn,” I said, standing. “You ready?”

Katie tossed me my helmet and went to the door. I grabbed my saddlebags from behind the couch, feeling the comfortable weight of my hammers inside.

“Which her?” she asked as we locked the door behind us.

“No idea.”

Her phone rang, and she answered it right way. “Jimmy,” she said to me. “Yeah, Jim. What the hell’s going on?”

She relayed the information to me as we exited the building and ran around back to where I kept the bike parked. “Gunther was stabbed,” she said to me, “and they took Jai Li and the twins. Deidre was roughed up, spilled out of her chair, but she’ll survive. Power is out at Black Briar.” She listened for a few seconds while I tied down the saddlebags.

I started the bike, and Katie cupped her ear, screaming into the phone. “It’ll take us two hours. Get Skella. You’ve got to beat them to Chumstick. We’re on our way.”

She slammed the phone into her pack and climbed on the bike behind me. I waited long enough for her to strap down her helmet and grab me by the waist. Then we ripped through the streets of Kent doing a hundred and twenty before we passed the second light.

Sixty-four

F
rederick took the elevator to the top floor and made his way to the stairwell and the roof access. No one stirred this late at night—nearly midnight. Once on the roof he carefully disrobed. No point in ruining the Armani. He dropped the cell phone on the pile of clothing. He no longer needed it. There would be no further communication. The orders had been clear enough.

He walked to the edge of the hotel and looked down the twelve or so stories to the street below. While the hotel slept, the city did not. He saw no other recourse. The transformation was quick. One minute, he stood there, naked and seemingly vulnerable; the next, his skin began to bubble and stretch. First, his back elongated, and then his limbs twisted and grew. He fell forward, catching himself on his hands and knees while the talons burst forth and the great wings unfurled from his back. As he transformed, the lights of the city waned. He drew in the power, a bite of the whole, aiding his metamorphosis.

He stretched his broad wings, beat them against the night sky for three beats, and leapt into the sky, his scream of anger echoing off the surrounding buildings. Before the city had time to react, the cold waters of Lake Washington were already slipping below his scaled belly. He avoided the bridges, preferring the dark, open waters between.

His instructions had been crystal clear: if he wanted to see Mr. Philips alive again, all he had to do was come take him.

“Come in all your glory,” the snotty voice had instructed him. “Let the world quake at the sight of your true form.”

Then the phone had gone dead. He hadn’t hesitated. There was no more important action than this. He feared no man, not even one steeped in magic. He’d destroyed wizards before, paltry humans with visions of grandeur.

Once he’d transformed he could feel it, smell it in the air—a diseased point north and east. North of Leavenworth, they’d told him, but he needed no markers for this trip.

And when he got there, he would kill them all. No one attacked him, not even through his thralls. The barista had been an insult, but an expendable pawn. Mr. Philips was personal.

How had that happened? he contemplated as the mountains rose before him, cold as his heart. He flew northward along the ragged crust of the earth until the stench of corruption grew strong enough to turn him east. There, he would face this Dragon Liberation Front and its blight.

Mr. Philips, his able servant and stalwart companion, needed him, and he was surprised to realize he needed Mr. Philips.

He would enjoy killing this lot, would revel in the rending of their flesh and the smashing of their bones.

And the cold night slipped under his wings, carrying him forward to rage and glory.

Sixty-five

S
kella ran through the dark of
S
tanley
P
ark, heading to the place Gletts kept the mirrors. She promised Jimmy she’d meet them at the Starbucks out on Interstate 2 west of Gold Bar, in the little town of Startup.

When she entered the cave, she was surprised to find the mirrors smashed and the shrine Gletts had built to Sarah wrecked.

“What the hell?” she asked, and something heavy hit the side of her head.

Jara, the clan leader, knelt over her, feeling her skull.

“Does my remaining grandchild live?” Unun asked, her face hard and angry.

Jara looked up, “Yes, Unun. She will live.”

“Good,” she said, her voice tight. “Put her in her bed and destroy that infernal artifact of the humans,” she said, pointing to the dropped cell phone. “They will no longer use her as they will. We are a proud people. Their interference is done.”

Jara lifted Skella from the cold ground, and they walked back through the pitch night.

“Interference has only brought us pain,” Unun said, though Jara did not respond. “I will not lose her to mad folly as well.”

Sixty-six

W
e crossed the pass at
S
noqualmie and cut north on U.S. Route 97. The snow was heavy in the passes, but once we were across, the road was merely wet and slick.

Katie sang the whole way, enveloping us in a bubble of heat. She ran through a dozen love songs, spacing them out, their magic fading slowly as the road crawled under our tires. The roads were rough, yet we managed to stay upright. I have no doubt it was her magic. She started shaking, nothing too severe, but I noticed it over the vibration of the bike. While I hoped it was just the cold, I feared the music was taking a toll on her.

I missed the winged horses at this point more than anything. The Ducati flat flew, and Katie’s singing helped keep us stable and warm, but it still seemed to take forever.

Every second, every heartbeat put our people in danger. Jai Li, bless her. How terrified was she? And the troll twins? So much tragedy already in their lives.

Gram sang in my head.
Kill them all
.

Save the children, yes.

The bad guys would get no mercy.

Luckily, Justin and his evil minions didn’t know we were coming, and if they dallied at all, we could beat them out there. Not likely, but Bub had bought us a good deal of time.

We screamed through Leavenworth, catching the attention of one of the local cops. I didn’t even slow down as I caught the gumball machine on the top of his car kick in and his siren warble into the night.

Come on, you bastards,
I yelled in my head. We can use all the help we can get.

The road out to Chumstick twisted and turned up into the mountains and was bad for speed. I dropped it down to eighty, then sixty, just to make sure we didn’t end up roadkill. The sheriff or one of his deputies—I didn’t get a good look when he started after us—knew the roads better than I did, and he or she slowed way down. By the third curve I had it down to forty, and the cop had disappeared two bends back. I could see his lights flashing across the clouds, reflected off the mountain, though, so I knew he or she was still coming.

Once we got through the wide spot that’s Chumstick, we roared around one final curve and saw a second cop car parked across the road, lights flashing, door open. Two burning trucks blocked the road in front of Anezka’s place, which loomed large on the right side of the road.

I slammed on the brakes. We skidded sideways. I barely kept the bike upright with the speed and slush. Katie, bless her, kept a death grip around my waist and didn’t fly off.

She did get off the bike fairly quickly once we’d come to a stop. I can’t imagine how I’d have kept the bike upright in my trainers. My Doc Martens were golden, though the soles may be missing a layer or two.

The dome over Anezka’s house glowed a sickly phosphorous green, casting strange shadows from the puppet show within. Things were moving inside the dome, some of them big.

We were walking over to the police cruiser when a civilian car came screaming around the curve from the north. Katie and I ran to the side as the driver saw the burning trucks, too late. He pulled hard on the wheel, trying to avoid the trucks. With the short distance, his speed, and the ice, the little sedan flipped and rolled several times, smashing into the burning trucks.

I ran forward but was blasted back as the vehicle exploded. I doubted they’d survive that, much less be identifiable by anything other than dental records.

Katie climbed to her feet and crossed over to the police car. I limped after her, shedding gravel and mud as best I could. Luckily I’d landed on my knee, so it only hurt a lot.

The car was empty, but there were shell casings scattered around and blood on the snow by the car. Shots fired, officer down? Was the deputy following me, or responding to a call?

The second sheriff car came to a skidding halt fifty feet back down the road from the way we’d come. They cut the siren, but left the bubbles flashing.

I went to the bike and walked it off to the side of the road in case someone else didn’t notice the huge burning pyre of smashed metal or the flashing lights of the abandoned cop car. I pulled the hammers from my saddlebags and settled their familiar weight into the holsters at my hips.

“Got any of those energy bars?” Katie asked. She looked pretty pale.

I dug in the saddlebags and brought out a bar and a bottle of water. Katie took them, her hands shaking.

I watched her as she wolfed down the protein bar. I’d have to keep an eye on her; using her music was draining her after all. I didn’t like the implications.

Katie downed the bottle of water, and we headed back to the second cop car, hands in the air. There was only one officer in the car. He’d gotten out and had drawn his revolver, aiming at us from behind his open door.

“Stay where you are,” he yelled.

We stopped.