Hoarfrost (Whyborne & Griffin Book 6) (17 page)

Griffin

My blood
froze, and my heart seemed to clench painfully in my chest. Jack was lying; he
had to be. This couldn’t be true.

The scar
on my right leg ached, and Glenn’s screams echoed in my ears. My partner for
nearly six years, my closest friend, my sometimes-lover…the only thing I could
remember was the sight of his skull stripped bare by acid, an agonized shriek
still rising from gaping jaws. The buck of the gun in my hand as I fired the
bullet to end his torment.

And last
year in Egypt, the huge daemon sailing out of the night, so much bigger than
its smaller cousin I’d encountered in Chicago. It had borne down on Christine
and me, and I’d been certain we’d die. The fate I’d avoided in Chicago, caught
up with me at last.

Then the
lightning blast, and Ival, lying so still, his right arm seared and bloody,
Nitocris’s festering bite in his left shoulder. His moans as fever set in, as
we were forced to drip water into his mouth and pray he’d live to see Cairo.
How he’d whimpered and cried out in delusion when we changed the pus-soaked
bandages.

These
creatures had destroyed my life, sent me screaming to the madhouse, and nearly
cost me Ival. They’d haunted my very dreams, making me question my sanity. And
now Jack meant to imply an entire city of them swarmed beneath us?

Oh God.
How could Whyborne and Christine expect to survive?

“We have
to go to them!” I stumbled to my feet. One of the guards barked something, but
Jack waved him off. “They’re going to die! Those things will kill them!”

Fear
flickered in Jack’s eyes. “Griffin, no. Nicholas had a plan. It involved Dr.
Whyborne somehow—something about his inhuman lineage. Nicholas knows what
he’s doing.”

A little
chill whispered through me. “Nicholas said he would leave them there. Alive. But
not out of mercy.”

Scarrow
stirred. “Alive in the dark with monsters,” he said, gazing at Jack. “Look
within your heart, my son. You know this can’t be right.”

Scarrow’s
presence of mind was nothing less than astonishing, given how bizarre the
situation must seem to him. I seized gratefully on his words. “Listen to the
reverend, Jack.” I took a step forward and reached out to him pleadingly. “I
know you thought you were doing the right thing. I know you believed Whyborne had
either corrupted me somehow, or else posed a terrible danger to me. I believe
you wanted to save me, to save every innocent you could.”

Our eyes
met. “But Turner deceived you. You know in your heart Whyborne isn’t the terrible,
cruel sorcerer Turner told you he was. You know Christine doesn’t deserve to be
dragged along as a hostage, to be left at the mercy of horrors. Turner says he’s
on the side of good, but what sort of person would do such a thing? We wanted
to seal these creatures in. He wants to bring one forth into the world.”

Jack
trembled, his expression uncertain. “No. You’ve…you’ve misjudged Nicholas.
You’ll see. He’ll explain everything to you when he comes back.”

“No he
won’t. Turner means to kill us. The only reason we’re still alive is he’s
afraid of Whyborne. But once he has what he wants, even if he does leave
Whyborne and Christine to the mercy of the umbrae, I’m dead. And so are the
reverend and Iskander.”

“You’re
wrong. Nicholas doesn’t kill innocent people. He’s not a monster, like
your—your friend.”

My hand
curled inside my mitten, although I didn’t know if I wanted to strike him for
calling Whyborne a monster, or shake him until his teeth rattled for refusing
to see the truth. “Let’s ask the guards, shall we?” I said instead. Raising my
voice, I called, “You’re going to let us go as soon as Mr. Turner is back,
right boys?”

They
exchanged looks. “Sure,” one said. “No reason to kill you, when you’ve seen our
faces and know our names.”

“Damn
it, Haswell!” Jack exclaimed. “That isn’t what Nicholas wants, and you know
it.”

Haswell
snorted. “Mr. Turner hired us because we know the land. Know how easy it is for
a man to just disappear up here.” He raised his gun, and his companion did the
same. “This is our one chance to strike it rich. Digging for gold is a fool’s
game, but we keep quiet and do as we’re told, and we’ll have more money than we’ll
know what to do with. I’ll burn in hell before I let you mess this up, you
coward.”

“I’m
afraid I must object,” Reverend Scarrow said. Then he spoke another word, not
in English, but which I recognized from hearing it from Whyborne’s lips so many
times.

The
secret name of fire.

The
pistol exploded in Haswell’s hand.

Whyborne

All
thought to remaining in a group was abandoned as we fled before the coming of
the soldier. Turner raced ahead, the chrysalis clutched tight in his arms, leaving
the guards to fend for themselves. They did so admirably, shoving Christine and
I aside in the desperation to save their own skins.

Still,
they weren’t quite fast enough. The hindmost in line screamed as acid-dripping
feelers grabbed him, wrenched him from the ground, and brought him to the
orifice on the soldier’s underside. His shrieks became higher and wilder,
before ending abruptly. A moment later, charred and melted bones clattered to
the floor.

His
death bought us time, although not much. As we passed out of the nursery room,
agitated workers scattered everywhere from the light of our lanterns. Behind
us, the soldier went to ground in order to fit through the door separating
rooms, giving us a few more seconds.

One of
the guards stopped, firing wildly at the soldier as it squeezed its plastic
form through the smaller opening. The bullets had no discernible effect, and
his gun hit the ground as a feeler lashed out and wrapped around his leg. His
agonized cries echoed behind us.

Christine
stumbled, weakened from blood loss. I put my arm around her waist, hauling her
along with me. As we reached the final, short hall, my heart lifted. The seals
were just ahead. If they held, if the soldier couldn’t get through, I’d set
fire to the remaining guard’s pistol. Then we’d deal with Turner.

Turner
passed through the huge doorway ahead of us, the chrysalis still cradled in his
arms. A moment later, the guard went through after him.

“Come
on, Whyborne!” Christine urged. Together we ran through the door and—

My face
smashed into an invisible wall. Agony exploded in my nose and forehead, and I
tasted blood. Christine was wrenched free from my grip, and I slammed into the
floor a moment later.

“What
the devil?” Christine cried. “Whyborne?”

I
blinked dazedly. She stood on the other side of the door, staring back at me in
alarm. What had happened?

No. Oh
no.

My
fingers shook as I reached out toward her, only to encounter an obstruction in
what appeared to be empty air. Heart pounding, I pressed my palms against it
and pushed. But there was nothing material to shove aside. Just the lines of
magic, laid down in some unknowably ancient time, meant to keep the monsters
in.

“I can’t
cross the seals,” I said, and my voice trembled. Our eyes met. “My ketoi blood
is trapping me here.”

“Cast a
spell or something, damn it!”

“I can’t!”
My throat tightened. “Run, Christine! Get out of here!”

She
plunged back through the doorway, gripping my arm. “No! I’m not leaving you! We
have to—”

It was
too late.

The
soldier burst into the hall, wings unfurled. I didn’t have time to think.
Wrapping my arms around Christine, I flung us violently to the side, away from
the soldier and into the heaving mass of agitated workers. We rolled across the
stone floor, fetching up against the wall, while the soldier struck the barrier
again and again, frantic to get through and retrieve the stolen chrysalis.

I
covered Christine’s body with mine as best I could. Workers slithered over us,
their feelers slick wherever they found my skin. Their horrible, boneless
weight pressed down on me, and I struggled to keep from crushing Christine
against the floor. Her breath came quick and frantic, and I closed my eyes and
prayed my pathetic attempt at cover would work, and the next touch I felt
wouldn’t be the soldier’s acid eating away my skin.

Griffin

I lunged
at the remaining guard, not giving him any time to react. My shoulder collided
with his midsection, and we both tumbled back into the snow. The dogs barked
wildly, half maddened by either the shots or our fight, I didn’t know. I
expected to feel their teeth sink into me in defense of their master. We rolled
on the ground; I clutched his arms, trying to keep the gun away from me.

Unfortunately,
the thick mittens so admirable for protecting my hands were no good for
gripping. The guard wrenched free and slammed a fist into the side of my head.
Stunned, my hold slackened. He rolled on top of me, the gun inches from my
face. “Don’t try it, Rever—”

There
came the sharp crack of a pistol, loud in the cold air. Blood burst from the
hole where his forehead had been. I shoved frantically, and his body collapsed
to the snow beside me. Behind him stood Jack, his own gun in his hand and a
grim look on his face.

“Thank
you,” I said, as Iskander hurried to help me to my feet.

Jack’s
mouth was a hard line. “I wasn’t going to let him kill you. I know you don’t
believe it, but Nicholas and I are trying to protect you.”

“You
heard what Haswell said!” Iskander exclaimed.

“Haswell
was never in Nicholas’s confidence. Not like me. He thought he could twist the
situation to his own brutish ways.” Jack pivoted to the fire and raised his
pistol again. “But we have bigger concerns. You’re a sorcerer.”

Scarrow
still sat at his ease on the rough-hewn log. “Very good, Mr. Hogue.”

Fear
crept up my spine. Most of my experience of sorcerers, other than Whyborne, had
not been good. Certainly Nicholas Turner hadn’t improved my opinion of the lot,
no matter what Jack might think of the man. “Who are you? And more importantly,
what do you want from us? Are you trying to get an umbra as well?” God, would I
have to fight him as well as Turner?

“Don’t
trust him,” Iskander warned.

“I’m
hurt, Mr. Barnett.” Scarrow didn’t sound particularly offended, though. “But
there’s no need to interrogate me, Mr. Flaherty. I’m more than happy to explain
myself, having been found out. Indeed, I was already considering how I might
reveal myself to you. Your brother choosing to join us made my task easier, of
course.”

“I
haven’t ‘joined’ anyone,” Jack shot back hotly. “Now answer Griffin’s
questions.”

Scarrow
held out his hands to the fire. I watched carefully in case he intended to play
some magical trick with the flames, but it seemed he only wished to warm his
fingers. “First answer a single question for me. What happened to Vanya?”

“How the
devil would we know?” Jack demanded.

“He’s
dead,” I said at the same moment.

Jack
cast me a shocked look. I shrugged. “At least, I assume he is. The first night
in St. Michael, a man attacked Whyborne, shouting about great worms and
breaking open mountains. Whyborne washed him off a dock with a wave. Either he
froze and drowned, or hid himself away.”

Jack
shook his head. “And you say Dr. Whyborne isn’t a murderer?”

“It was
self defense!” I turned away from him in disgust and aimed my next words at
Scarrow. “I assume he was your agent?”

Scarrow
sighed unhappily. “Poor Vanya. I assure you, he had no orders from me to attack
anyone. I made certain he went with Mr. Hogue in order to keep an eye on Dr.
Whyborne, so he might report back to me on his return. Unfortunately, his head
was already full of native legends concerning these mountains. I suppose he
decided to take matters into his own hands.”

I folded
my arms over my chest. “And who are you, exactly?”

“I am
who I introduced myself as. Felix Scarrow.” He sat back and regarded me. “I’m a
member of a…loose association, you might say…of those who study the arcane
arts. We call ourselves the Cabal, but honestly I find the name rather an
affectation, don’t you?”

“Get on
with it,” Iskander snapped. “Christine and Whyborne are in danger while you
maunder on!”

“Quite,
quite.” Scarrow rose to his feet. “We heard a rumor the Endicotts had sent
someone from one of their subsidiary branches to Alaska, in search of another
umbra. They’d already acquired one when the Eltdown Shards were uncovered a few
years ago, but those sort are never content. Having met them, I’m sure you won’t
be at all surprised to hear they aren’t very popular in arcane circles. We
thought it in our interests to send someone to keep an eye on dear Mr. Turner
and make certain he didn’t secure another umbra. The balance of power is
already too far in the Endicotts’ favor as it is.”

“And I
suppose your
association
use magic to help orphans and kittens?” Jack
asked. “At least the Endicotts are trying to make the world better.”

“Jack,
please,” I said. “Let the—well, not reverend, I’m sure—finish.”

“Not a
reverend?” Scarrow’s pale brows climbed toward his hood. “Oh no, dear me. I am
an ordained minister.” I must have looked skeptical, because he said, “Don’t
you think God’s will can be accomplished through magic as readily as through
the work of a man’s hands? Just because some persons have unjustly condemned
the arcane arts doesn’t mean they don’t come from the Divine.” He inclined his
head to me in a little bow. “Given your words concerning Dr. Whyborne earlier,
I’m certain you would agree the mind of man often distorts the will of God,
either through fear or ignorance.”

I wanted
to argue and say it wasn’t the same thing at all. I’d seen the evil that could
come from sorcerers, from magic.

But I’d
seen the good in it, too. In Whyborne. “I see. And you’re right. It would be
rather hypocritical of me to disagree with you.”

“What
now?” Jack asked.

“What do
you mean?” Iskander went to the stores and began to pull out climbing ropes. “We
go to the city and save Christine and Whyborne.”

Jack started
to object, so I held up my hands to stop him. “I have a suggestion. We’ll all
go down together. We’ll find them, including Turner. If they are in danger,
we’ll help. And when it’s safe, I promise to listen to what he has to say. And
you’ll listen to what Whyborne has to say. Agreed?”

Jack
nodded. “Agreed.”

A
flicker of hope went through me. We were free now and had a sorcerer of our
own. Surely we could face Turner and stop him. “I assume we can count on your
help, Reverend?”

“Of
course. Our best weapon against these creatures is fire. I suggest we gather up
as much kerosene as we have on hand to take with us. Praise the Lord that the
temperature hasn’t dipped quite so far as to freeze it.” He picked up one of
the lanterns and checked its fuel. “But I haven’t quite finished my story. I
must confess, when I first heard Dr. Whyborne would be joining us, I was rather
alarmed.”

Iskander
went to the guards and retrieved our weapons from them. My gun would do little
good against a sorcerer like Turner, and I’d foolishly left my sword cane back
in Hoarfrost as impractical to take mountaineering. Iskander tucked his pair of
deadly knives, which I’d seen him use on ghūls in the desert, into his
coat. There was also a rifle belonging to Scarrow.

I moved
to gather supplies, but kept an eye on Scarrow as I did so. “You knew of
Whyborne before.”

A thin
smile touched Scarrow’s face. “He hasn’t been exactly what one would call
discreet. First the business with the Brotherhood, then the Eyes of Nodens, and
finally with the Endicotts…such things don’t go unnoticed by others versed in
the arcane arts. We speak with one another, write letters, trade spells. There
are many who fear what Dr. Whyborne might do.”

“Whyborne
isn’t one to go looking for trouble,” I objected, though the words were
half-aimed at Jack as well. God, didn’t we have enough to worry about?

“Considering
he traveled all the way here ‘looking for trouble,’ as you put it, I will have
to take your word on the matter.” Scarrow’s eyes sparkled as he drew out the
remaining stores of kerosene. “As the Endicotts aren’t ones to forgive, I
suspected he didn’t actually realize what sort of situation he was walking
into. On the other hand, it didn’t seem to be in the interests of the Cabal to
allow him to stroll away with an umbra, any more than it would the Endicotts.
Not unless he could be made an ally.”

“So you
insinuated yourself into the expedition,” Iskander said. “All these lies aren’t
exactly godly, are they, reverend?”

“I shall
pray for forgiveness,” Scarrow replied, unperturbed. “But yes. When the
opportunity appeared, it seemed the perfect chance to learn exactly what kind
of man he is.”

“And now
you know.” I met his gaze challengingly. “A ketoi hybrid and a Sodomite.”

Scarrow
laughed. “Don’t be foolish, Mr. Flaherty. The only members of the Cabal who
care are the ones who’d wish to avail themselves of his sexual interests. The
ketoi blood renders him rather more valuable than less. The Cabal’s primary
concern is whether Dr. Whyborne is a friend or an enemy.”

“You’ll
have to ask him yourself,” I said, all too aware of Jack near me. If he and
Scarrow came to blows over Turner, or the blasted Endicotts, Jack would surely
lose such a fight. I couldn’t let him get hurt, but losing Scarrow’s aid would leave
us at a disadvantage, especially since I was certain Turner meant to murder us.
“Does everyone have their supplies? Lamps? Rope? Food and water? All right. Let’s
go.”