Magic Rises (41 page)

“The bastard teleported,” Curran grimaced. “Can you believe that?”

“Screw him. He’s weak.”

“I broke his back.”

“I heard.”

“He’ll feel it in the morning.”

I laughed. It came out a little bloody.

“Did our people get out?” Curran asked.

“Most of them.”

“You have to go now,” he said.

“No.”

“Yes. Both of my legs are broken and you can’t carry me.”

I brushed the soot from his face. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“He used magic. The bones fused wrong. It hurts a bit.”

It probably hurt like hell.

“Kate,” he said. “You’ll burn to death. Leave me and try to make it down into the yard before this place collapses.”

“In a minute I’m going to get up and drag you to the edge of the tower. Then we’re going to jump over the wall.”

“It’s fifty feet down,” he said. “That’s called suicide.”

“Or death on our terms.”

“Leave me, God damn it.”

“No. It’s my turn to save us. We’re going to jump.” I coughed. The smoke was eating my lungs. I was so tired. “I’m just going to rest half a minute. My arm hurts a little.”

I lay next to him.

“Will you marry me?” Curran asked.

“You’re asking me now?”

“Seems like a good time,” he said.

He deserved an honest answer. “If I marry you, then you’ll be my husband.”

“Yes, that’s how it works.”

Smartass. “I would be dragging you down with me.”

“I thought we covered that.”

“When the time comes, I can’t say, ‘Don’t fight him. He’s just someone who doesn’t matter.’ We would be married.”

“Do you expect that I would hide behind that?” he asked. “Is that how little you think of me?”

“No. I know you wouldn’t. I know it doesn’t matter to you, because you love me. It’s just something I tell myself when I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t fall asleep.”

The heat was closer. We really had to get off this tower.

“Is the offer still open?” I asked.

He nodded.

“It’s a yes. I would love to be your wife.”

I reached over. He took my hand and squeezed it.

Magic cracked. The stone floor under me dropped. A smooth stone slid open under me. We rolled down it, all the way to the road, coming to a gentle stop. I blinked and saw Astamur standing next to a cart drawn by a donkey. The donkey and the shepherd regarded us.

“Well?” Astamur asked. “Are you two going to lie there all night?”

It wasn’t English, but I understood him all the same. I stared at him, openmouthed.

“I would’ve rescued you sooner, but you were having an important relationship conversation.”

“What the hell . . . ?” Curran struggled to get up.

Now wasn’t the time to look the gift donkey in the mouth. I propped him up and half dragged, half carried him into the cart. He fell onto the boards. I fell next to him. The donkey moved, and the cart took us away from the castle.

Fire shot out above the stone. Slowly, as if hesitating, the castle walls came apart and crashed down off the cliff, breaking into thousands of blocks as they fell.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I told you, I’m the shepherd. I watch over these mountains.”

“Are you immortal?”

“No. Nobody is truly immortal. But I was born a very long time ago, when the magic was still strong. Then the magic waned and for a while I had to sleep. Now my power is back, and I am one with the mountains again.”

“Why did you save us?” I asked.

“Your father is cooked,” Astamur said. “I’ve known him for a long time. We met when the sea and the mountains were younger. No matter what time and the world do to him, he won’t change. He is what he is. You’re not so bad. You try too hard and you lust for blood, but your heart is good.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“One day you will have to decide where you stand,” he said. “I have hope for you, so I tell you the same thing I told your father. If you come to these mountains with open hands, I will welcome you, but if you come holding a sword, you will die by it.”

“What did her father decide?” Curran asked.

“He chose not to come at all, which is an answer in itself. There are ancients in the world, like him and me. They are waking up. Your father, he will want to use you. Soon you might have to make a stand.”

“Do you think I can win?” I asked.

“Against your father? No, not now.” Astamur said. “Perhaps in time. A smart warrior chooses the time of battle.”

“I will remember that.”

The donkey clopped, his hoofbeats really loud. Salty wind bathed my face. I realized we were on the pier.

“The ship has pulled away but there is a boat coming back. They are planning on rescuing you from the castle,” Astamur said. “It’s nice to have friends.”

I raised my head and saw Andrea and Raphael in the boat.

Ten minutes later we were hauled onto the deck of the
Rush
. Andrea sat me down gently by the cabin. I leaned against the wall. Curran lay down next to me. His legs didn’t look right. They would have to be rebroken. My bones hurt just thinking about it.

Derek rested on his stomach, his back covered with burns. Keira was bloody. Eduardo’s whole body was covered with soot and burns. Mahon cradled George, tears in his eyes. Her arm was missing. Shit.

“It will be fine, Dad,” she told him.

“What will I tell your mother . . .”

“You will tell her that I saved a woman during childbirth.” George glanced to the length of sailing canvas where Desandra curled with two naked babies.

Barabas asked me quietly, “What about Desandra?”

“What about her? Unless she wants us to drop her off somewhere, we’re taking her with us. Where else is she going to go?”

Everyone was bloody, beat up, and grieving.

“Finally,” Saiman said. “We can be under way.”

Christopher came to stand by me and smiled.

The
Rush
turned, picked up speed, and slid out of the harbor. The mountains receded.

I looked at the gathering of metal drums that sat near the nose of the ship, secured by ropes. At least we had done it. At least we got the panacea. Maddie wouldn’t have to die. Aunt B would never see her grandchildren, but at least, if Raphael and Andrea had any babies, they wouldn’t—

“Look!” Raphael called, pointing north.

A fleet of ships anchored behind the curve of the harbor. Six large vessels, the biggest longer than the
Rush
. They flew the Iron Dog banner.

“Hold your breath,” Saiman murmured next to me.

The
Rush
glided across the sea.

A minute passed. Another. The air grew thick with tension.

We turned again and sped across the blue waves. Hugh’s fleet disappeared from view. They’d let us go. They must not have known what happened.

Doolittle rolled into view. He sat in an old wheelchair. Did Saiman actually get it for him? How unlike him.

Doolittle cleared his throat. “Someone tampered with the drums.”

Curran set up. “What?”

“Someone tampered with the panacea drums,” Doolittle said. “The seals are broken.”

Barabas jerked the lid off the nearest drum, thrust his hand in, and recoiled. “Powdered silver.”

“And arsenic,” Doolittle said.

“All of it?” Curran asked.

Doolittle’s eyes were ashen. “Every barrel.”

God damn it, Hugh.

“How?” Andrea asked. “How did they get on board? I thought you had checked the barrels after they were loaded.”

“I did,” Doolittle said. “And I had personally sealed each one. Saiman had posted guards.”

Saiman. Of course.

Curran surged to his feet, grabbed Saiman by the throat, and jerked him up. Saiman’s feet left the deck.

“You!” Curran snarled. “You let d’Ambray poison it.”

Saiman made no move to resist.

Curran hurled him across the deck. Saiman hit the cabin with his back and stood up. “Rage all you want,” he said. “I didn’t have a choice. The contract we signed obligates me to do everything in my power to maintain your safety. It was made abundantly clear to me that sacrificing the panacea was the only way to ensure your survival. Those ships would’ve never let us go. I did what I had to do so we could all go home.”

Curran swayed on his feet, his eyes pure gold.

“Let it go,” I said. “Let it go, honey. It’s over.”

Curran closed his eyes and lay back down. He didn’t bother with threats and promises. They would do no good now.

“So it’s all for nothing?” Andrea said, her voice too high. “Aunt B died for nothing?”

Raphael smashed his fist into the drum, denting it. Eduardo swore. Keira screamed, a sound of pure frustration.

I couldn’t take it. I covered my face.

All for nothing. Aunt B would never see her grandchildren for nothing. Doolittle’s paralysis, George’s arm, Curran’s legs, all for nothing.

Tears wet my fingers. I realized I finally was crying.

“Mistress?” Cold fingers touched my hands, gently. “Mistress?”

I forced my hands from my face. I couldn’t even talk.

Christopher was looking at me, his face concerned. “Please don’t cry. Please.”

I couldn’t help it. The tears just kept rolling.

“Please don’t cry. Here.” He pulled the chalk from my spare belt hugging his waist and began drawing a complicated glyph on the deck. “I will make more. I will make more panacea right now.” He started pulling herbs out of the pouches. “I will make as much as you want. Just please don’t cry.”

Two hours later we had our first batch of panacea. Doolittle tested it and said it was the strongest he had ever seen.

EPILOGUE

The October night was warm, but the balcony from our living room at the top floor of the Keep was high enough for a nice cool breeze. I hid on the balcony. It’d been a long day. The new greenhouse was finally finished, and I’d spent the day digging in the dirt and planting the herbs required for panacea. It was cheaper than trying to buy them in large quantities. Learning to make it had proved to be a lot harder than expected. I had finally managed some passable results, but the two medmages Christopher was training had a hard time. We would get it. It just took time and practice.

We still didn’t know exactly what Christopher had done for Hugh or how he’d ended up there. He maintained that he took care of Hugh’s books, but I’d seen him in a lab, and the way he handled herbs and equipment telegraphed years of practice. If he wasn’t in the lab, he was somewhere outside, usually high up. We finally persuaded him that he couldn’t fly, but he loved sitting on the walls in some sunny, hidden spot, reading a book.

Below me in the Keep’s courtyard, music played and the teenage members of the Pack were doing their best to follow the beat. Somewhere in the crowd Maddie and Julie danced. Or rather Maddie danced and Julie played along, waiting to catch her friend if she fell down. The forced coma had wreaked havoc on Maddie’s musculature. It took two weeks after we administered the panacea before she could move. She still used a wheelchair on occasion. The other day I caught her and Doolittle holding brooms and ramming each other with their wheelchairs in the hallways. Apparently they were having a joust.

Doolittle was probably down there too, listening to the music and complaining about the noise. Being in a chair didn’t seem to slow him down. George had fared worse. Her arm reattachment didn’t take. For whatever reason, her body rejected the limb, even after Doolittle reattached it for the second time aboard the
Rush
. The arm was gone now. George had to learn how to use her left hand for everything, and it drove her up the wall. Desandra was helping her. She had adapted well. Eventually the fact that one of her children was a lamassu would have to be dealt with, but for now everyone was ignoring it. There was some friction in the Wolf Clan as to where she would fit into the Clan hierarchy, and when Jennifer attempted to chastise Desandra in her very formal way, Desandra told her to cool her tits. Every time I thought about it, I laughed.

We buried Aunt B on a sunny hill behind the Bouda House. There was no body in the grave, just the things she had taken with her on the trip. I came to visit her every other week. The left tower of the Keep was named after her. That was where the kids stayed when they had to be treated with panacea. I never thought I would miss her, but I did.

Curran stepped out on the balcony and sat next to me. I leaned against him, and he put his arm around me.

“Are you okay?” he asked me.

“Yes. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real that we made it.” I leaned closer against him.

“Kate?” he asked.

“Mm-hm.”

“I am an ass. And an arrogant egomaniac. And a selfish bastard.”

“The first two, yes. But you’re not selfish.” I stroked his arm, feeling the muscle underneath the skin. “You are the way you are, Curran. You have your valid reasons. I am the way I am and I have my reasons, too.”

He kissed my hand. “I love you,” he said. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

“I love you, too.” I looked into his face. “What’s wrong?”

He took out a small wooden box and handed it to me. What the hell could be so important about a wooden box for that kind of speech?

“What’s in here?”

“Just open it,” he growled.

“I’m not going to open it after you said all that. It might blow up.”

“Kate. Open the box,” he said quietly.

I opened it. A ring looked back at me from black velvet, a pale band with a large brilliant stone with a pale yellow tint. I knew that tint. He’d given me a ring set with a piece of the Wolf Diamond.

“Are you going to say
psych
?”

“No,” Curran said.

Oh boy.