Hoarfrost (Whyborne & Griffin Book 6) (16 page)

Griffin

I sat
near the fire, my head bowed and my hands loose between my knees. The distant
voice still spoke inside my skull, but I gave it no more heed than the
occasional barks from the dogs. Iskander and Scarrow sat across from me, and
the two remaining guides prowled about, their guns at the ready in case we
attempted to bolt.

Jack was
there, too. But I tried not to look at him.

God. I’d
been so stupid. So blind.

Pa had
died, and it hurt, because the argument would remain unfinished between us
forever. There would be no forgiveness from him, no acceptance. And I’d been so
worried about replaying the argument, only this time with Jack, I’d missed what
now seemed obvious. He hadn’t kept asking about Whyborne because he suspected
our relationship, hadn’t been shocked when Ival saved him on the trail because
he saw only a soft, useless scholar. It was because he knew Whyborne was a
dangerous sorcerer.

I’d been
so afraid of losing the only kin I still possessed, I’d ended up risking the
family I already had. Christine and Iskander, and Ival most of all.

Where
was he now? They must have reached the moulin, assuming they could find it
again after the avalanche. Must have gone down into the depths of the earth.

Turner didn’t
intend to bring either of them back. What if my husband died beneath this
accursed glacier, because I’d been stupid enough to lead him into this trap?

I’d
accused him of treating me as a child or an invalid. Of finding some excuse for
me not to have to go down into the dark. The last words I’d spoken to him had
been in anger. How could I live with that? How could I live with any of it?

“Griffin,”
Jack said. “Let me explain.”

My mouth
felt dry as cotton. I swallowed, but it didn’t help. “What can you possibly say
to explain
this?”

“I didn’t
mean for them to threaten you, I swear.” As if that somehow made it better. “Nicholas…God,
I’m not sure where to begin, even.”

Iskander
shifted on his rough-hewn seat. “You might start with why you agreed to lure us
here in the first place.”

“Nicholas
sought me out,” Jack said. “Because of my connection with Griffin, and Griffin’s
connection with Dr. Whyborne. Although he wasn’t exactly truthful about the
nature of their, um, friendship.”

I didn’t
give a damn what he thought of my relationship with Whyborne. “And you just
agreed to hand us all over to your new friend? Did Nicholas even tell you he’s
a sorcerer?”

“Of
course he did!” Jack snapped, then caught himself. When he spoke again, it was
far more calmly. “Nicholas told me all about himself, and about the family his
mother came from back in England.”

A chill
ran through me, because it could mean only one thing. “Damn it. The Endicotts.”

“Yes.
Nicholas was already here in Alaska, looking for the city. He’d read an old
account from a crazed Russian explorer, and believed some sort of ancient city
waited here in the mountains. He came to me and explained everything—that
he was sorcerer, that his family fights monsters and protects ordinary people.”

A hoarse
laugh escaped me. “Yes, I heard those lies myself first hand. Did he tell you
what the Endicotts tried to do to Widdershins?”

“He told
me Dr. Whyborne is a monster,” Jack replied, anger lacing the words now. “And
that some of his cousins from the main family line died trying to stop him.”

“They tried
to kill Whyborne by murdering an entire town full of innocents! Oh yes, the
very definition of keeping ordinary people safe.”

Jack
scowled. “From what I understand, most of the people in Widdershins aren’t very
innocent.”

“You don’t
know anything,” I replied. Fury began to replace despair in my veins, and I
embraced it. I raised my head and pinned Jack with my gaze. “Whyborne saved
your
life,
and this is how you repay him?”

Jack
shifted, unable to meet my eyes. “I thought…but I was useful to him. Nicholas explained
the deception. Creatures like Dr. Whyborne don’t really feel things like love
or human kindness.”

The
argument we’d heard, the first night in Hoarfrost. I’d let Jack keep his
secrets because I was intent on keeping mine. I shouldn’t have. I should have
pushed. I should have introduced Whyborne as my husband, I should have…

It was
all too late, so I ruthlessly slammed the door on my guilt. Later on, when this
was over, when I had Whyborne in my arms and we were all safe, then I’d let it
back in. But for now, only our survival mattered.

“He’s
lying to you,” I replied. “Or he’s just wrong, so caught up in his own
certainties he can’t see the truth in front of him. The rings you asked about our
first night in St. Michael aren’t society rings. They’re wedding rings.
Whyborne is my husband.”

I left
the words to hang in the air. Jack’s eyes widened. “Your…husband?”

I
refused to look away. “Yes.”

“He’s
just using you,” Jack said. “Tricking you.”

“I’ve
lived under the same roof with the man for three years. I would have noticed by
now if that were the case. If anyone has been using others, it’s Nicholas.”

“You don’t
understand!” Jack lowered his voice when the remaining guards looked at him
sharply. “You don’t know what my life has been like, Griffin. I told you some
of it. I ran away from home. I ran away from the circus. I drifted everywhere
until I came here. My life was nothing. I didn’t care about anyone, not even
myself. I used everyone I came across. The swindler Dr. Whyborne saw me
interrupt in St. Michael? I was once just like him.”

Jack
shook his head unhappily. “Nicholas changed everything. He offered me
purpose.
He believed in me, the way no one else ever did. By helping him rid the world
of the sort of things most people don’t even realize exist, I could do some
good in the world. Be a part of something bigger than myself.”

Wasn’t
that why I’d joined the Pinkertons? To make the world better, to be a part of
something important? Why I’d fallen in love with my brave, beautiful Ival, who
ran toward danger when everyone else fled, because he couldn’t just pretend
nothing was wrong? Had Nicholas seen that in Jack and played on it? Or did he,
like Theo and Fiona Endicott, believe he did the work of the righteous, no
matter how many innocents died?

I couldn’t
let emotion cloud my judgment. Not again. “Even if it means murdering your own
brother,” I said ruthlessly.

“I’m
saving you!” His mittens clenched on his thighs. “Nicholas said you knew all
about Dr. Whyborne, but I thought his reports must be wrong. I convinced him to
help me free you from the abomination masquerading as your human friend. We
used my connection with you to let Dr. Whyborne know a powerful servitor waited
here in the north for any sorcerer able to claim it. He wouldn’t be able to
resist such a prize. He’d hurry here as quickly as possible, just to prevent
anyone else from finding it first. Once he arrived, we’d find the city with his
and Dr. Putnam’s help. We’d go inside, expose him for what he really is, and
just…leave him there. You’d join Nicholas and me, and the three of us together
would help save the world.”

“We didn’t
come to claim some sorcerous prize. We came to save your worthless hide.”

Jack looked
at me uncertainly. “Me?”

“Yes.” I
started to rise, caught the expression on one of the guard’s faces, and sat
back down. “We came here for you. Because you’re my brother, and I couldn’t sit
by while you went blindly to your death.” I spat; it froze before it hit the
snow and lay there gleaming. “What an idiot I was.”

“But…but
that’s not right,” Jack said. “It can’t be.”

I
laughed bitterly. “Of course it is. And you know it. You expected one thing
from Whyborne and got something entirely different, didn’t you? A man who
seemed a true friend to those around him, not a sorcerous tyrant using us all
to achieve his own ends. Moreover, a man who risked his life to save yours.” I
shook my head. “You’d already started asking yourself questions, hadn’t you?
About how poorly the reality matched the terrifying monster Nicholas described
to you. By the time we got to Hoarfrost, you didn’t really believe any more.
But you let Nicholas convince you, smother the doubt in your heart. Just like I’m
sure you’re telling yourself Nicholas won’t really murder me, and Iskander, and
even poor Reverend Scarrow the moment we’re no longer useful.”

Jack
closed his eyes briefly. His body trembled, but I didn’t think it was entirely
from the cold.

“Don’t
let this happen, Jack,” I said. “Don’t let him kill all of us and take this
servitor, whatever it is, back to the Endicotts.”

A frown
creased his mouth. “I don’t understand. What do you mean ‘whatever it is?’ You’ve
encountered umbrae before.”

The
devil? “I assure you, we’ve not fought so many horrors from beyond that I no
longer remember the particulars,” I said. “Whatever this umbra is, we’ve not
seen it.”

“Umbrae,”
Jack corrected. “You don’t think…oh.” His eyes widened. “You truly don’t know,
do you?”

The arctic
wind seemed to seep through clothing and flesh to chill my blood directly. “What
do you mean?”

“Sorcerers
take them to be guardians. Steal them from their nests while they’re still in
the chrysalis stage, then grow them into something that can be controlled
through magic. They’re powerful, strong, nearly indestructible except from fire
and lightning.” Jack met my gaze at last, and I thought there might have been
pity in the depths of the green eyes so like my own. “You’ve seen them twice
already. Once in Chicago, and once in Egypt.”

“No,”
Iskander whispered. “There’s a daemon of the night here?”

“Not
a
daemon, my friend,” Jack said wryly. “An entire city full of them.”

Whyborne

A shriek
of terror and despair escaped me, at the same moment Christine screamed my
name. The daemon’s—umbra’s—gelatinous flesh gave only slightly
beneath my weight, as if I’d fallen on top of a huge jellyfish. Tendrils
uncoiled from it, feelers grasping my clothing and the skin of my face, and I
closed my eyes and waited for the agony to begin.

It didn’t.

Its
damp, gelid touch slithered over my skin. A whimper escaped me, but it made no
move to harm me.

Something
pressed against my mind. A weight, like the mountain above, like the slow pulse
of magic, like the wearing of water over rock. Was this the “voice” Griffin had
heard all along?

I
slammed the doors of my mind, used every trick I knew to strengthen my will
against any intrusion. The sense of pressure didn’t push any farther.

The
feelers withdrew. Apparently unconcerned with me, the
daemon—umbra—whatever one wished to call it—slithered on
about its business.

I
scrambled back wildly, my limbs shaking too badly to stand. Christine tried to
run to me, but Turner grabbed her arm and yanked her back. “Oh no, Dr. Putnam.
You can see he’s unharmed from over here.”

I took
deep, gasping breaths, trying to calm my racing heart. “Wh-what happened?” I
demanded. My voice cracked on the words, and I swore silently. “Why did you do
that?”

“Daemons
of the night,” Turner mused. “An interesting name for them. You encountered one
in Egypt, did you not? And your lover escaped one in Chicago.”

Griffin.
Was the voice he heard really connected to these things? But why? How?

He’d
dreamed of being the umbra beneath the pyramid in Egypt. Of chasing himself
through the passageway. I’d assumed it was merely some strange nightmare. Had I
been horribly wrong?

“Yes,” I
answered Turner. “Its feelers secreted acid. It dissolved and ate everyone it
could get hold of.”

“Indeed.”
Turner nodded at the dozens of creatures currently slithering around us,
apparently now unconcerned about our presence. “But that one was a warrior. A
soldier. They aren’t all of the same kind, Dr. Whyborne. These are merely
workers, and thus of no use to us.”

“Workers?”
I asked. “Soldiers? Like ants?”

“Even
so, why fling Whyborne at it? Were you merely trying to prove a point?”
Christine demanded hotly. “I think you might have simply told us without the
demonstration!”

“Oh, but
Dr. Whyborne is the key to everything,” Turner replied with an unpleasant
smile. “If we’d come without him, when the workers came to taste and sense us
as possible intruders…well. Let’s just say they would have instantly summoned a
solider, and our lives would have been very short indeed. But Dr. Whyborne isn’t
fully human. When the worker tasted his skin, smelled his scent, it
recognized…not one of its own, of course. But an ally, allowed to pass by
without harm.”

An ally?
I’d wondered at the similarity in style between the carvings in the city and
those in the undersea temple. Was there truly some connection? “The daemon in
Egypt certainly didn’t recognize me as such,” I protested.

He
snorted. “Of course not. It was taken from its nest and raised by ancient
sorcerers, far away from the corrupting influence of its own kind. Its will
belonged to those who bound it. As will that of the one I intend to take from
here.”

My head
spun, and my legs threatened to buckle as the guards prodded me to my feet.
This was madness. The ketoi might not be human, but they were far more so than
these gelatinous horrors. They possessed minds and language, an intelligence
one could converse with, made tools and jewelry and a hundred other little
things. The umbrae had more in common with the jellyfish of the deep than with
the ketoi.

“Buckle
up, Dr. Whyborne—we’ve no time for fainting spells,” Turner said with a
sneer. “We should be safe with you in our company, but just in case, I suggest
you lead the way.”

I didn’t
argue. If I could keep Christine safe from these things, I’d do whatever it
took. If I thought there might be some way to use them against Turner, to
perhaps alert one of these soldiers to him and his men, and leave Christine and
me unscathed…but I didn’t see how I might accomplish such a thing.

We
traversed the room. Two corridors let off of it, one angling up and to the
north, the other down and to the east. The city, at least beneath the ground,
wasn’t built on a flat system of streets and byways, but rather a complex
tangle, like the burrows of animals, or the nests of insects. Every breath
brought another gust of the umbrae’s acrid, chemical smell into my lungs. Every
step sent more of them scurrying just a little out of the way of the light from
my lamp. Their burning tripartite eyes occasionally turned to us, but the
decision of the first to tolerate my presence had been passed on in some manner
I couldn’t guess.

No,
wait. The pressure I’d felt in my mind. The voice Griffin heard. Did they
communicate telepathically, perhaps? The way the dweller in the deeps spoke to
the ketoi?

Blast.

For the
first time, I found myself intensely grateful Turner had left Griffin behind.
Forcing him to come down into this black pit, surrounded by the very creatures that
most plagued his nightmares, perhaps able to hear them speaking to him in some
fashion…I couldn’t imagine how horrible it would have been for him. Far better
he remain on the surface, beneath the clean stars.

“Down,”
Turner said. So I took the ramp leading down. Deeper into the darkness, and
farther from the world I’d known.

More of
the workers crowded the tunnel and ramp, slithering around and past us. I
shuddered each time one bumped against me. They didn’t seem to have legs, but
somehow clung to the walls and even the ceiling, like nauseating slugs. At
least they didn’t seem able to fly, like the daemon in Egypt. Perhaps that
ability was reserved for soldiers, which might have to venture outside the
nest.

Or maybe
they just didn’t feel the need to at the moment. The idea left me distinctly
queasy.

The ramp
yielded to yet another of the omnipresent hexagonal rooms. Unlike the ones we’d
passed through before, swept clear of debris, the floor of this chamber was
almost completely covered by dark, ovoid masses.

“What
are those?” Christine asked, but her voice was lowered, as if she feared the
answer.

I took a
hesitant step forward. The worker umbrae seemed particularly busy in this
chamber, crawling over the ovoids as if inspecting them. Or caring for them in
some fashion.

I pulled
off my glove and hesitantly reached out to the nearest. Its black surface
reminded me of the umbrae, but coarse rather than gelatinous. As if it had been
spun from some thick fibers, like a cocoon.

“Oh God.”
I snatched my hand back. “It’s a chrysalis.”

“Quite.”
Turner’s eyes burned avidly as he cast about the room. “The soldiers’ will be
larger. Find me one, men.”

Most of
the objects measured approximately two feet in length, and half that in height.
But although the type predominated, there were others a third again the size
mixed in. As the guards began to make their way through the jumble of cocoons,
I took a step back and exchanged a look with Christine.

Time was
running out. Turner was about to get what he came for. And when he did, he’d
surely kill us both. There must be some way of escape, but for the life of me I
couldn’t think of what it might be.

“How do
you propose to get it out of here?” I asked. “Do you mean to break the seals
holding the creatures in?”

“That
won’t be necessary.” Turner watched the guards avidly. “Above our heads, the solstice
has come, and there is no moon. The seals are at their weakest, but still
remain strong enough to hold in the adults. But my umbra will be wrapped in a
chrysalis, inert and protected. The seals will be too faint to react with it.”

“I have
one!” a guard shouted, and lifted a cocoon with a grunt. This one was even
larger than the others, and its surface glittered with iridescent colors.

Turner’s
eyes widened. “Dear heavens! That’s no mere soldier.”

The
workers moved en mass, flowing toward the man holding the chrysalis in an
undulating black wave. Shocked, he stumbled, and a feeler touched his face.

I
felt
the shriek in my mind, hammering against my brain. “It knows something’s wrong!
A soldier is coming!” I shouted, even as I clutched at my suddenly pounding
temples.

“Give me
the chrysalis!” Turner shouted.

Then
everything was chaos. The guard rushed forward, thrusting the cocoon at Turner.
Even as he did so, a shape shot out of the tunnel at the other end of the
chamber, unfurling vast wings like those of a stingray.

A
soldier. A daemon of the night.

Umbra.

We ran.