Magic Rises (35 page)

He was right. We loved each other and nobody else would put up with us.

“I’m still mad at you,” I whispered, and put my arms around him.

“I’m an ass,” he told me, pulling me closer. “I’m sorry. You should make my life hell for the next hundred years.”

“Do we need to give you some privacy for the makeup sex?” Astamur asked.

CHAPTER 17

An hour or so before sunrise, Curran and I decided that we did need some privacy. We borrowed a couple of blankets and climbed the mountainside to a small ledge. We made love on the blankets and now we were lying quietly.

“Still mad at me?” Curran asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to stay?”

I shifted my head on his biceps and looked at his face. “Yes. I’m stuck.”

“How?”

“I love you too much to walk away.”

He kissed my hair.

“I’m used to watching for people with swords,” I told him. “I never saw the knife. You were too close.”

“Kate, I didn’t stab you.”

“Are you sure? Because it still hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I’m sorry, too. Did you really think I would leave you?”

“I thought I would lose you either way. I’ve known you long enough.”

He deliberately put this whole scheme into action all the while thinking I would walk away. It must’ve sucked being trapped, his back against the wall, desperately trying to juggle me, Lorelei, and the three packs. And in his place, I might have done the same thing. Life was complicated.

“I almost pulled the plug on it,” he said. “But then I realized that any conversation with you, no matter how bad, is better than talking to a hole in the ground.”

“I don’t know. A hole wouldn’t argue with you.”

I wanted him to laugh. Instead he pulled me closer. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe,” he said.

“I know.”

We lay together, touching.

“I can’t believe I let Hugh goad me into a fight. If you hadn’t called me, I would’ve run him through, and then all of us would be dead.”

A hint of a snarl raised his upper lip. His body tensed next to me, the violent urge traveling through it like fire down the detonation cord. “Every time he looks at you, I want to kill him,” Curran said. “I’ve been picturing snapping his neck.”

“I’ve imagined killing Lorelei. I guess your plan must’ve worked, because Isabella told me I have a look on my face when I see her.”

“You do.”

I turned to him. “What kind of look?”

“Murderous.” He kissed me. “Barabas tried to attack me yesterday.”

“What?”

“When Aunt B and Keira came back. I saw it in his face. He was walking to me, and George tackled him and called me a cold bastard.”

“Did you hurt him?”

“No.”

“You’re not winning any popularity contests lately. Maybe you should work on that.”

“I know. Maybe I’ll be lucky and get voted out of office. If I did, would you go away with me?”

“In a heartbeat.”

He finally grinned. “Good.”

“By the way, why use Saiman?”

He grimaced. “I had no choice.”

“He wants to stab you in the back.”

“As a person, Saiman is completely amoral. But as a businessman, he’s above reproach. Remember when he signed the contract?”

“Mm-hm.”

“There is a provision in it that stipulates he will do everything he can to maintain our safety as a group and as individuals.”

“Nice.” Saiman was incredibly scrupulous when it came to business. He prided himself on it. We signed the contract and became his clients. Now the same ego that had nearly cost him his life made him work for us, because for him nothing short of a hundred percent effort would do. I just hoped his professional ethics would hold up.

The sky had grown pale. A golden glow spread from behind the mountain. The sun was about to rise. Soon we would have to go back to the castle and Hugh.

I loved Curran, and most of the time being with him was so easy. But when it was difficult, it nearly broke me. I wondered if it was like that for him, too. Being alone was simpler, but I couldn’t give him up. He made me happy. So happy that I kept looking over my shoulder, as if I had stolen something and any minute someone would demand I give it back.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I said.

“What?”

“You and me. This wasn’t in the plan. The plan was to be alone, to hide, and to kill Roland. Being happy was never one of the bullet points. Some part of me is still convinced it’s a fluke and eventually it will be ripped away from me. Deep down I expect it. Any hint of it and I roll down the cliff. You’re mine, you know that, right? If you ever try to leave me, it won’t go well.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Curran said. The same desperate thing I saw last night flickered in his eyes. “But I got you and I’m an entitled selfish bastard. You’re all mine. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. If you ever disappeared, I would leave the Pack and I would look for you until I found you. However long it took.”

I knew he wasn’t lying. I could feel it. He would find me.

“I’ll try not to disappear.”

“Thank you,” he said.

* * *

When the sunrise splashed over the mountains, Astamur guided us to town, where we said our good-byes. I asked if there was anything we could do for him. He just shook his head. “Next time someone comes to you for help, help them for me. I help you, you help them, we keep it going.”

We climbed the road, me and the enormous lion. It was decided that fur was preferable to no clothes, and although Astamur had offered some, they wouldn’t fit Curran and we both had a feeling the shepherd didn’t have that many clothes anyway. The castle loomed before us.

I sighed.

“I know,” Curran said, human words emerging perfectly from the leonine mouth. “We’re almost done.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you see Hugh.”

A low growl reverberated in Curran’s throat.

“Temper, Your Majesty.”

We both knew that picking a fight with Hugh was still out of the question. I still had no idea what his plan was. He’d gotten me into this castle. He wasn’t trying to actively murder me. He flattered me and called me special. If things kept going this way . . . I shuddered.

Curran looked at me.

“Just pondering what Hugh’s version of flowers and candy will look like.”

“Like bloody mush,” Curran said. “Because I will crush his head and his brain will ooze out of his ears.”

I just wanted to know what the final plan was.

We walked through the gates. The cage had been moved from the inner courtyard. It now hung from a beam affixed to a guard tower, front and center in the courtyard. Hibla sat in it. I stopped. She stared at me with haunted feverish eyes, her desperation so obvious, I had to stop myself from walking over there and pulling her out.

“There you are,” Hugh strode out of the opened doors of the main keep. “Safe and sound.”

“Why is she in a cage?”

“Cages need occupants. This one was empty and she seemed like the best candidate.”

Hibla had failed one too many times. She’d let me out of the castle and lost me, and now he’d stuck her into the cage for everyone to see. “Please let her out.”

Hugh sighed. “What is it about the cage? Is there anyone I could put in there you wouldn’t want to get out?”

“You.”

He shrugged his massive shoulder. “It wouldn’t hold me.”

“Talk is cheap. Try it on, d’Ambray,” Curran said.

“I’d love to, but as I’ve said, it’s occupied.” Hugh turned to me. “So where did you go?”

I looked at the cage.

Hugh shrugged. “Oh, fine. Someone get Hibla out!”

A djigit left his post by the gate and ran down to the cage.

“I went to some caves, fell in, swam around, and was rescued by an atsany and a local shepherd.”

“Sounds eventful.”

“I’m tired and hungry,” I said.

Hugh smiled. “I’ll see you later, then.”

And why did that sound ominous?

Curran moved between him and me and we went into the castle.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting on our bed eating food George brought for me from the kitchen. Curran changed shape and put on clothes.

Mahon appeared at the doorway. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he told me.

A moment later Barabas walked through the door. A man followed him into the room. A cloud of silky hair, completely white, framed his narrow face. His skin must’ve been naturally olive, but now it had a slightly ashen tint. He looked to be in his midthirties, not just lean, but so slight that clothes hung on him the way they would on a coatrack. The man saw me and smiled. His entire face lit up, suddenly young and blissful, his blue eyes luminescent, at once beautiful and impossibly distant.

“Mistress,” he said.

Whoa. “Hi, Christopher.”

He came over and sat on the floor by my feet and sighed happily. “Beautiful mistress.”

“How are you, Christopher?”

He looked at me with a blank smile and stared at my shoes.

“How is he?” I asked Barabas.

“What you see is what you get. He’s here one minute, and then he isn’t. I think we finally settled on the fact that he isn’t dead. He insists that he used to know how to fly, but he forgot. He occasionally tries, so I have to watch him closely in high places.”

Oh boy. “Christopher?”

He looked up at me.

“You’re free.”

“I am.” He nodded. “I’ll serve you forever. To the end of time.”

“No, you’re free. You don’t have to serve me. You’re welcome to stay, but you can go if you want.”

He leaned over and touched my hand with long fingers. “Nobody is free in this world. Neither princes, nor wizards, nor beggars. I will serve you forever, my mistress.”

Aha. “Let’s come back to that later, when you feel more like yourself.”

“Great,” Curran said. “Another fine addition to your collection of uncanny misfits.”

“I take offense to that,” Barabas said.

“Don’t worry, I count myself in, too,” Curran told him.

“What did you do for Hugh?” I asked.

“I took care of his books.” Christopher’s fingers twitched as if stroking invisible pages. “He has the most interesting books. Do you have books, lady?”

Great. I rescued Hugh’s librarian. “Some. Probably not as nice as Hugh’s.”

“That’s alright.” Christopher offered me a smile. “I will help you get more and then I will take care of them for you.”

“Christopher, about the orange beast,” I said. “The one who killed a guard, you remember?”

“The lamassu,” Christopher said helpfully.

“You know what they are?”

“Yes.” He nodded with that same faraway smile.

“Why didn’t you tell me when I talked to you?”

“You didn’t ask.”

I turned and bumped my forehead against the wooden post of the bed.

“Okay, mistress needs a moment,” Barabas said. “Come on.”

“Does that help?” Christopher asked with interest.

Barabas took him by the arm and gently lifted him to his feet. “We should go eat.”

“Real food?”

“Real food. Come with me.”

They left the room.

“You know he’s crazy, right?” Curran asked.

“Yep. He won’t survive on his own.”

“As you wish,” Curran said.

* * *

I spent the day in bed, sleeping, eating, and then sleeping again. Curran stood guard over me, and any suggestion that I should go and guard Desandra was met with a stone Beast Lord face. He had a point. I was tired and my whole body hurt, as if I’d been through a meat grinder.

Ten minutes before six I woke up because someone knocked on our door. Curran blocked it. Beast Lord in hover mode.

“. . . information,” Hibla said.

I rolled out of bed.

Curran stepped aside. She walked into the room, holding herself very straight, her chin raised, her spine rigid. She couldn’t have looked more fragile if she were on the verge of crying. I’d warned her.
Be careful who you serve.

“What do you have for me?”

“A large group of strangers came to the mountains. They didn’t use the pass or the sea. They came on the railroad tracks on foot. They passed a small village not too far from here.” Hibla passed me a photograph. The body of a young man lying on his back stared at me with empty eyes. A bright red hole gaped where his stomach used to be, his flesh gouged out by claws and teeth. They’d fed on him. The second picture showed a close-up of his face. Purple blisters marked his features. I’d seen them before on Ivanna’s face.

I held up the photograph and showed it to Hibla.

“The villagers said the bigger ones spit acid.”

“What do you mean?”

Hibla shrugged. “We don’t know. There were only six survivors. They had killed forty people and eaten most of them. I saw these marks on Ivanna.”

“I saw them, too,” I said.

“If she was attacked, why didn’t she say anything?”

“Unless she was attacked by her own kind,” Curran said.

I pulled a piece of paper out and began writing. “The first time I saw Ivanna was before dinner, when Radomil and Gerardo had a fight in the hallway. She saw Doolittle examining Desandra and she was upset.”

I wrote it down and drew an arrow down. “Desandra was attacked.” I drew another arrow.

“Meeting between the packs,” Curran said.

I added it and drew another arrow. “Doolittle is attacked. Next morning Ivanna has purple blisters.”

“If I were a lamassu, and assuming that one of Desandra’s babies is a lamassu,” Curran said, “knowing that a medic is examining her would make me nervous.”