Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3) (30 page)

Gretchen nodded. “Elfy’s locked down tight. Natalie added a sound-dampening spell on top of the rest of it and Luka’s running some noise interference, too. He’s not a wizard, but he knows a few nifty things. We got it handled.”

Meaghan gave her a skeptical look. “That’s what everybody said before it went after John.”

“It caught us with our panties down, right enough, but we fixed the problem. You can bamboozle a complacent witch, but when she starts paying attention, watch out.”

“So maybe it didn’t hear the first big lightning strike over at the Donners’?”

Gretchen shrugged. “Hard to say. Luka’s been blocking the elf’s signal as much as he can since he got here. But Natalie wasn’t in the mix yet. So it would have heard and felt a boom, but might not realize what it was.”

Russ stared into the bowl, frowning. “I’ve got some beet puree in the big freezer. Let’s try that.”

Gretchen poked her head into the chest freezer in the tiny mudroom. In a muffled voice, she called, “Where is it?”

“On the right side, next to the meat bin. And hurry up. You’re letting the cold out. If the power doesn’t come on soon, we’ll have to haul everything out to the garage.”

“What the hell . . .” Gretchen slammed the freezer door shut. She held up a large Tupperware container. “How about we use this instead?”

“Are you nuts? That’s organic, pastured pig’s blood for blood sausage,” Russ said.

“You mean you have the actual stuff in the freezer and we’re screwing around with honey and tomato paste?” Meaghan shook her head.

“That blood was expensive,” Russ said. “What? Why are both looking at me like that?”

“Look at it this way,” Meaghan said, trying not to laugh, but grateful for the moment of levity. “If the dragon burns the house down, you’ll have bigger problems. If it doesn’t, we’ll all chip in and buy you new blood.”

“Better blood,” Gretchen said.

“There is no better blood,” Russ said in a mournful voice. “This stuff is top of the line. I have a great recipe. I was going to surprise you.”

“With blood sausage?” Gretchen grimaced. “Yeah, that’d be a surprise.”

A blinding flash of light knifed through the kitchen windows, followed by a deafening crack of thunder.

Meaghan raced to the back door and pulled it open.

Terry stood in the snowy backyard next to a small smoking crater, shaking his hand with a grimace. “Sorry.” He stared down into the hole. “I think you’ll need a new patio slab.”

“I think Elfy knows about the lightning now,” Gretchen said. “Go, Sparky, go.”

“I’d better head over to the meadow,” Terry said.

“Oh, no,” Meaghan said. “Not a chance. We almost got lost in there trying to get to your house the last time.”

“Buzz and the Millers have been clearing a path bringing over supplies. I’ll be fine.”

“With how fast this snow is falling?” Meaghan shook her head. “And the wind? The path fills up as soon as you make it.”

“Not if you make it with troll feet,” Terry said.

“Which you don’t have, Sparky.” Meaghan glared at him.
You don’t get out of this by freezing to death. You’re the only chance I have to live through this mess.
“Are you trying to make this easy for the elves? How do you know they aren’t hunkered down over there waiting for a chance to grab you?”

Terry sighed. “Fine, I’ll go blow up your front yard instead.” He stomped through the snow to the back door and held up an insulated travel mug. “Russ, can I get a top off? I don’t how you’re making this stuff without electricity, but it’s great.”

“A Chemex flask and a hand grinder,” Russ said, beaming with pride, “and a goose-necked kettle to get precision control for the pour.”

“You got any idea what he’s talking about?” Gretchen asked Meaghan.

“You put a filter in this cone thingy, add ground coffee, dump boiling water over it, and leave it alone until it’s all dripped through. Even I can do it. Easiest way to make coffee ever.” She snorted. “Unless you’re my brother.”

“My sister is not only impervious to magic,” Russ said. “She’s impervious to flavor.”

“However you make it, it’s good.” Terry held up the mug. “More, please.”

Meaghan watched Terry through the windows as he trudged—coffee in hand— around the house. Kneeling on the sofa, she watched him smite another holly bush across the street.

“Weird shit happening,” a male voice said.

Meaghan whirled around. Dustin slouched into the room, followed by Sam.

“Where have you guys been all this time?”

“Upstairs,” Dustin said, a worried frown on his round face. “Talking.”

“I will go to them,” Sam said, climbing onto the sofa next to Meaghan. “You must not risk yourself for me.”

“It’s not only for you, hon,” Meaghan said, taking his small hand in hers. “They want Terry—the smith—as well. And you’re both worth the risk, believe me.”

He stared up at her, his small face grave. “I will fight for you then.”

Dustin groaned. “Sam, you can’t. We talked about this.”

“Dustin fears that I cannot help. That I am too small and I have no power.”

He’s impervious
 
.
 
.
 
.
maybe he can help.
She abandoned the thought the moment it came to her. Sam would be as useful as the half-starved child he resembled. And she couldn’t ask him to risk himself. Not after what he’d already been through.

But
 
.
 
.
 
.

Meaghan flashed on the moment of despair she’d felt in the attic of city hall, clutching the stapler, helpless while her friends suffered. Patrice had told her she’d have a part to play before the end, but at that moment, she had excoriated herself for having no better plan than throwing a stapler at somebody.

“But that stapler saved the world,” Meaghan said.

“What?” Sam and Dustin asked in unison.

Meaghan shook her head to clear it. “Sorry. Thinking out loud. Last summer, when city hall was destroyed . . . do you know this story?”

Sam nodded. “Oh, yes. Everyone knows this story. How you vanquished the old ones with an impervious weapon.”

“That weapon was a stapler,” Meaghan said. “A small tool”—she indicated the size with her hands—“used for binding sheets of paper together. A mundane piece of office equipment made of steel.”

“It was not designed as a weapon?”

“Not even close. It was the most ordinary of human objects. We used it, we scorned it when it malfunctioned, we took it for granted. It had no power, and neither did I, and I felt small and useless and afraid. I felt like a fool to even consider it as a weapon. But when the time came, it saved us all. You may have a part in this, Sam, that none of us can foresee.”

Geez, I sound like I’m in the Lord of the Rings.
With Sam’s earnest little face looking up at her, Meaghan found herself falling into his formal syntax.

Sam nodded and smiled. “I understand. Even the smallest blade can win the battle.”

Meaghan smiled back. “Yes. Something like that. But wait for your moment.”

“Like you did,” Sam said.

The pants-wetting terror will tell you when
 
.
 
.
 
.

“Exactly,” Meaghan said.
Once again, I’m relying on bullshit to rally the troops.
It sounded good, but Meaghan didn’t like Sam’s odds against a dragon.
But I don’t like my odds either.

“So,” Dustin said. “None of this giving-yourself-up talk, okay?”

“This is what the king tells me as well,” Sam said.

Meaghan smiled. Nobody called John a king these days. Even the Fahrayans didn’t really think of him as their king anymore, much to John’s relief. He was ready for a new leader to step forward, at least for those Fahrayans who clung to the old ways. A surprising number were adapting to modern life at an alarming speed and didn’t want any king at all.

In that moment, she realized she wanted him more than she ever had.

That wizard can go to hell. If I’m going to die I want to spend my last hours with John, ready or not.

“Where is the king, by the way?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

“In your chambers,” Sam said.

Meaghan looked blank a moment, then said, “My bedroom, you mean?”

“Yeah. He told us to ask you to come upstairs if you have a minute,” Dustin said. “So you guys can have your talk? He didn’t tell me about what though.”

Meaghan sighed. “I know what. On my way.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

M
ELANIE AND JOHN
were waiting in her bedroom.

“How’s Kady?” Meaghan asked.

“Mild labor,” Melanie said on her way out the door. “She and your father both want you to stay here and talk to John.”

Russ, you little shit.
“I suppose Russ told everybody,” Meaghan said in a stiff voice. “Guess there’s no need for me rehash it.”

“Russ didn’t tell us anything,” John said. He was sitting on her bed, wrapped in a quilt. “He only tells me he is concerned for you, and you’ll tell me when you are ready.” He held out his hand. “You were ready to tell me this morning. I can see this weigh on you. Will you tell me now, please?”

Her moment of lust evaporated.
Which part? The near rape or the fact that if Terry chokes, I’m the only one who can kill the dragon because the rest of you will be like deer in the headlights?

“Before we all die?” Meaghan pushed the bedroom door shut behind her. Even in long underwear and several sweaters, she could feel the cold.

“We’re not going to die.” John opened the quilt. “Here. We’ll be warmer together.”

Meaghan curled up next to him. “I hope you’re right about the ‘nobody dying’ part. You know the plan?”

John pulled her closer. “I do. When will it happen?”

“Luka wants time to practice and then we’ll get everyone prepared. We’re all supposed to meet in the living room at three.” She glanced at her watch. “That gives us about three and half hours.”

“Why is he waiting so long?”

“He wants to head down there around three thirty. If everything goes as planned, then the elf should leave before four, and Luka says that gives the elves enough time to think they can double-cross him by showing up early, but not enough time to start asking each other hard questions about why Luka would betray us in the first place.”

John nodded. “He is a clever man, Luka. Too clever, maybe.”

“You don’t trust him?”

“I believe he means well. He’s not the monster from his father’s stories. But I think he trusts himself too much. He reminds me of me before I lost my wings. I was so . . . what is the word? I was so sure of myself. So sure I knew what I was doing that I never noticed my brother filling the people’s heads with lies. I didn’t know I was in trouble until it was too late.”

“Luka’s so sharp he could cut himself,” Meaghan said.

“What?”

“It’s a saying to describe really clever people. I’ve usually seen it used as a compliment, but I’m not sure it is.”

“It’s like the two-edged sword.” He adjusted the quilt. “Warm enough?”

Meaghan nodded.
Warm and safe, but not for long.

“Terry explained to me what it means,” John continued. “It’s why he made swords but never used them himself. If you’re careless, the way drunks can be, it’s too easy to hurt yourself as well as your enemy.”

“Yeah, but in Luka’s case I’m not sure it’s careless so much as arrogant.”

“There is the word I was trying to remember. I was arrogant in Fahraya. Luka is arrogant now.”

“Yeah,” Meaghan said. “He can be, but he’s been doing this a long time.”

“No. He did it for a long time, this is true, but he hasn’t for many years now. Terry tells us these elves, these fair folk, are the most dangerous creatures he has ever encountered, but now he and Luka and Owen act like the elves are stupid enough to fall for a lie? For fake knives and fake blood?”

“We have real blood,” Meaghan said. “It’s pig’s blood Russ had stashed in the freezer to make blood sausage, but I see your point. I tried to make the same point, and Luka didn’t want to hear it.”

“Which is why we need to talk,” John said in a soft voice. “Tell me what is troubling you. We may not get another chance.”

Meaghan sighed and tried to remember how she’d felt in the morning when she’d been ready to tell him, but now it felt like another lifetime.

A lifetime that didn’t involve dragons.

“I have to kill the dragon,” Meaghan said.

“We have to kill the dragon,” John said. “You don’t believe in prophecy, remember?”

Meaghan shook her head. “This isn’t prophecy. This is a setup. The fair folk are either trying to force the prophecy forward or make people think it doesn’t apply to me. I’m the only one who can do it, because I’m the only one who won’t get stunned.”

John shook his head. “Terry and the witches will help. I’ll help.”

“You can’t, honey. Like I told you, the dragon has the power to make you not fight back.”