Jinn and Juice (13 page)

I raised my arms helplessly. “I’ve got no fucking clue what’s going on.”

Charlie looked at me. “We’ve gotta find out, Lyla.”

“No, Charlie,” I said. “Absolutely not.”

Oz was looking between the two of us, nonplussed.

Charlie, for his part, ignored my protestations entirely. “We’ll go tonight after the show.”

“What part of ‘no’ did you not understand?” I demanded, stepping up to peer into his face.

“I’ve got to, honey.” His voice was soft and worry lines etched his forehead. “There’s something going on here we don’t get and we need to figure it out as soon as possible. You don’t have much time.”

“But I’ll take care of it,” I said, sharply. “It’s not your call.”

“You’re my friend,” he said. “So it is my call, if I can help.”

Then he turned and walked back toward the club, his shoulders set in a line I knew all too well.

“I said no, Charlie!” I called, knowing I was way too late. “Damn it!”

“What just happened?” Oz asked, a few seconds later, during which I’d managed to cuss about a thousand times.

“Charlie’s a shitball goatfucker,” I said, unhelpfully. Oz raised an eyebrow.

I took a calming breath. “Charlie’s going to try to use a vision to See what’s happening.”

“Oh. OK. But isn’t that what he does?”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. I mean, yes, it’s what he does. But he has to do it using the Pittsburgh Node, which isn’t the pure source that Delphi was.”

“Oh. So… what? It’ll hurt him, like it does you?”

“Yes. Very badly, and worse every time. But that’s not the worst part.” I shuddered, remembering the last time Charlie had used his powers. He’d Seen his own death, although he refused to talk about it, even now.

“What’s the worst part?” Oz prompted.

I rounded on my Master. “The worst part is he Sees everything. So not just what he wants to See, but everything he doesn’t want. And none of it is ever good.”

We walked toward the stairs that led to Purgatory, as I wondered what Charlie would See that night.

And how long it’d take him to recover from those visions this time.

T
he fountain at Point State Park is one of Pittsburgh’s major landmarks. Sitting smack between two rivers and giving birth to a third, it’s always been an important site, and not only to humans.

“I feel… funny,” Oz said.

I looked at my Master, whose eyes were lit up like torches. All the magic underfoot, plus my jinni Fire standing next to him, meant Oz had the magical equivalent of a boner.

“It’s the confluence,” I said, “the nodal point. There’s a metric shit-ton of magic running underneath your feet right now.”

He grunted, swaying slightly. “It feels good.”

I felt my brow creep up my forehead. “I bet it does. But put your game face on, Master; we’ve got a job to do.”

His Flaring silver eyes met mine, calling my Fire to kindle in response.

“You’re really beautiful, you know,” he said, his voice dreamy, distant.

Despite me, my face went hot. “And you’re high on mojo,” I said, brusquely pulling him toward the fountain.

“I don’t like this at all,” Rachel was saying, tottering behind
us on enormous platform heels. Luckily there was nothing even vaguely park-like about Point State Park, or our favorite drag queen—whose definition of
sensible shoes
was a pair of kitten-heeled, ostrich-feather slippers—would never have made it. Instead the “park” was almost entirely concrete, with beautifully paved sidewalks leading straight to the enormous fountain, the jewel in the crown made up of many bridges that was Pittsburgh’s skyline.

Like the rest of the city, the fountain and its surrounding monuments fell into disrepair after the steel industry collapsed. The park had even been closed for a few years, until it was finally renovated and only recently reopened. For many, the fountain’s refurbishment symbolized how Pittsburgh itself was rising, Phoenix-like, from its own ashes.

That metaphor would have been avoided, however, if normal humans knew that Phoenixes are complete assholes.

“I don’t like this either,” I said, stopping to tug on Charlie’s sleeve. “Why don’t we just head over to Butcher and the Rye for something butchered. And something rye.”

Charlie gave me an incredibly dark look for someone with colorless eyes. “We need some answers, and not the kind that come at the bottom of a bottle.”

“Nothing good ever comes of your visions,” I reminded him.

Charlie laid a hand over mine, resting still on his forearm. “I’m an Oracle. And I’ve had a bad feeling all week. A vision itch. I can’t fight it any longer. I
shouldn’t
fight it any longer. Something obviously wants me to know… something.”

“Fine.” I knew he couldn’t fight his own cursed existence any more than I could fight mine. “But I’m pulling you out if something goes funky.”

His head bowed in a grave nod. “I’m counting on it. Are you prepared to do what we talked about?”

After a moment’s silent protest, I eventually nodded. In the past, when Charlie had done a reading, I’d skimmed off whatever power from the Node I could and sent it over to him, to give his visions extra oomph.

He wanted me to do the same thing tonight, but with the Deep Magic to which I now had access. I’d put up a good fight, but he’d won in the end, as he normally did in our friendship.

“Good,” he said, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I want to find this girl; get you free.” I gave his hand its own squeeze and thanked him before letting him go.

We walked the rest of the way to the fountain, all lit up for the night. Oz stood peering up at it, swaying like a drunk. I put a hand on his shoulder and felt the heat coming off him.

“You okay, Master?”

“Don’t call me that,” he repeated. His tone was still harsh but he paired the words with a sweet smile. I hated myself for liking him at that moment.

“Master,” I repeated, forcing myself to say the word coldly, clinically. I didn’t have to obey that command, after all, because it would be a lie. He
was
my Master. “We need your help.”

His silver eyes closed for a second, as if my words had hurt him, and when he opened them again he took a step away from me, giving me space.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“We need you to command a few things from me. Rachel will instruct you. I’ve told her what you should ask me,” I said.

We watched as Charlie prepared himself: Rachel and I resigned, Oz openly fascinated. First Charlie used chalk to draw a huge sigil, an ancient Greek declaration of Will and invocation. It looked a bit like a pentagram, covered in squiggles.

Then he took off his clothes, all of them, and lay down in the middle of the circle. His pale flesh goose-pimpled like crazy
when it made contact with the cold pavement, and my own flesh crawled in sympathy. As if to make us all more miserable, the wind shifted direction then, casting a fine spray of water from the fountain.

Charlie’s chalk symbol was safe, however, as it instantly flared into a cold white fire around his thin frame.

“I’m ready,” my friend called, peering over at me.

Rachel looked at me, and I nodded. “Tell Lyla to bind him, and bind him fast,” she said to Oz.

My Master’s eyes Flared again as he looked at me, causing my Fire to fan out around me.

“Bind him,” he commanded me, “and bind him fast.”

I swallowed at the sound of his voice, even as my jinni began her work. This close to the Node, I didn’t even have to reach for Pittsburgh’s stained magic for it to come boiling up inside me, filtering through the channels made wide by Oz’s command. My Fire surged forward, wrapping around my friend’s body like dozens of black snakes, dark against his white skin.

“Now tell her to help focus him, so he can See,” Rachel said, once her man was firmly rooted to the ground.

Oz did as she commanded, and once again my power reached out… only this time it went into Charlie, bowing his back as every muscle in his body tightened like he’d been electrocuted.

Rachel made a choking noise beside me. We all hated this part.

I did my best to filter as much of the gunk as I could out of the mojo I speared into our Oracle, knowing I’d have a hell of a headache tomorrow. But I knew it still hurt my friend, even as I pushed more and more power into him. “He’s taking it,” I told Rachel. “It’s opening up.”

“What’s going on?” Oz asked. My little scholar hated to be left in the dark.

“As an Oracle,” I said, “Charlie has a conduit, straight to… something. His people thought it was the gods, and maybe it is. Maybe it’s the universe. Maybe it’s just something that likes to meddle. Anyway, Charlie was born with the conduit, but it has to be forced open by magic to be big enough for the power to speak through him. That’s what he used to sit on at Delphi: a great big magic-channel-opener.”

Oz’s wide shoulder brushed against me in the dark. I nearly took his hand, before I realized that was inappropriate on about five thousand levels.

“He’s almost there,” I said, feeling the exodus of my own power meet what I knew was Charlie’s saturation point. “He should start talking soon…”

I began to switch it off, knowing Charlie had enough. But it didn’t work. The power rushed out of me even faster.

Pulled into Charlie.

“Charlie, stop!” I shrieked, but he didn’t appear to hear me. His face was constricted in a terrible grimace, his eyes squeezed shut. I didn’t think he was any more in charge of his own power than I was of mine.

Suddenly my knees buckled. Charlie sucked another huge wave of power out of me. Only my grip on Rachel’s hand, and Oz’s immediately grabbing my elbow, kept me on my feet. I swayed backward, my eyes rolling in my head.

As if in sync, Charlie’s prostrate form heaved again, bucking against my bindings. Rachel, torn between her love and me, pulled me toward Charlie, trying to get to him. But before she could get too near, Charlie’s mouth opened, a stream of white fire geysering out of his mouth in imitation of the fountain behind him.

“What’s happening, Lyla!” she shrieked, turning to me and shaking me roughly. “What are you doing to him?”

“Not me,” I managed to choke out between panting breaths. I’d watched Charlie See a dozen times, feeding him the small amounts of power I could handle unBound. But I’d never felt anything like this. It was like the suction end of a gigantic Dyson had attached itself to the Node, through me, and turned itself on.

“Tell her to stop,” Rachel said to Oz. “Tell her now!”

“Lyla, stop what you’re doing,” Oz said, his voice calm despite the pale terror of his face. “Whatever it is you’re doing, I command you to stop.”

But I couldn’t. The jinni in me screamed in protest, but something else had a hold on me. Something more powerful than my own Master. More powerful than my own nature. As powerful as anything in creation… and it had me tight, by the scruff of the neck, wringing the power out of me and into my friend…

Charlie’s sigil flared up, suddenly, and the fire pouring from his mouth shot even higher. His poor body bucked one last time in a paroxysm so complete every muscle stood out as if it were being pulled from his bones.

His eyes, clamped shut until this point, suddenly opened.

And then, just like that, the fires died, the Dyson was shut off, and I saw Charlie’s head slump to the side, lax in either sleep or death, just as my own consciousness hit the deck and everything went black.

“Lyla? Lyla?” Something was shaking my shoulders. I groaned feebly, squinching my eyes shut.

“Lyla? Are you there?” This time a big, rough hand wrapped around my jaw, another against my cheek, squeezing very gently. Something soft pressed against my forehead. “Lyla, please,”
the voice murmured, and the softness pressed against my cheek again.

I opened my eyes to find Oz’s, scant inches from my own. The silver in them Flared with my consciousness, and my Fire wrapped around us like a cloak…

A cloak I pulled right the fuck back off of him as I sat up, pushing him roughly away.

And then I was on my feet, stumbling toward my oldest friend.

“Charlie!” I croaked, letting my stumble carry me to my knees next to him.

Rachel was clutching his hand, tears and makeup running down her face.

“Help him, Lyla,” she gasped. Then she turned to Oz. “Tell her to help him.”

“Help him,” he commanded automatically, his own face pale as he peered down at Charlie’s slack features.

I let my jinni go, and my Fire coursed out of me and into Charlie, this time seeking out his hurts. “He’s breathing,” I said. “But it’s really weak. He’s in shock. Physical and magical.”

I let my Fire heat up, bringing up his core body temperature. A tendril of my Fire wrapped around his heart, pumping it for him as I leaned forward to breathe air into his lungs. After a few terrifying minutes, his heart picked up its own rhythm and my Fire withdrew, although I left it lying on him, like a giant magical heating pad.

“Charlie,” I said, straining to keep my voice calm. “We’re here, honey. It’s okay. You’re safe. The magic’s gone.”

His chest rose and fell, but he didn’t respond.

I kept murmuring to him, as did Rachel. But when Charlie didn’t answer for a few minutes, Oz looked between Rachel and me. “Should we try to wake him up?”

The jinni inside me said no. He was better off resting.

“Just let him sleep,” I said. “He’ll wake up when he’s…”

A huge gasp of air left Charlie’s lungs and he sat bolt upright, blinking and shaking.

“… ready,” I finished, pushing back gently on Charlie’s shoulders to get him prostrate again.

“Charlie, baby, you okay?” Rachel murmured, stroking a dark hand along Charlie’s stubbled jaw. “Charlie?”

His eyes were still open, but I wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Something told me it wasn’t the night sky above us.

“Red,” he said, quite calmly, at nothing, before shutting his eyes again.

I swore. “Let’s get him home. Put him to bed. Hope he remembers something in the morning and didn’t just risk his life for nothing.”

Oz and I bent to lift Charlie, but when I touched him he jolted, grabbing my hand.

“You,” he said. “He’s coming for you.” And then he passed out, his head lolling back on his shoulders.

“Fucking hell, Charlie,” I said. “Way to give me a heart attack.”

It took all three of us to get Charlie back into Rachel’s SUV. He was dead weight, although his quiet snores kept us content that he was sleeping, and not actively dying on us.

We drove straight back to Highland Park, where Yulia used her wisps to help us carry our lifeless burden. We laid him on the chaise, and before we could lift a finger to stop her, Yulia smacked Charlie hard across the mouth.

“Wake up!” she yelled, causing us all to jump back, and then rush toward her.

“What are you doing, you lunatic!” Rachel yelled back at Yulia, grabbing her long-fingered hands. But Rachel couldn’t
then stop the wisp Yulia sent to smack Charlie again, and then a third time.

“He needs to wake up!”

“Yulia, stop,” I said, but a moan from Charlie cut me off. He was stirring, rustling weakly under the throw rug we’d draped around him before putting him in the car.

“See, he wants to wake up,” the will-o’-the-wisp murmured, her Slavic accent making her voice sound extra smug.