Master and Apprentice (21 page)

I couldn’t let him suffer anymore. I had to honor his wishes.

If I did it fast, maybe I wouldn’t have time to talk myself out of it. I pushed up to my knees and extracted Ian’s tether. My hands shook when I drew the blade, and I almost dropped it.
Oh God. I can’t do this.
My body moved without input from my brain, slicing the keen edge of the dagger across my palm. Blood pulsed and drizzled on metal.

Crimson-tinged light blazed along the surface of the blade where my blood coated it, forming familiar symbols. Djinn writing.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Only Ian’s blood should’ve had this reaction. I’d seen it when the Morai leader tested Ian—we’d made decoys to try and keep him alive, but things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. This was a blood tell. The glowing symbols insisted this was my tether. Which was impossible.

I spoke the spell anyway. The dagger failed to burst into flames.

There was no way I could summon the nerve to try again. I wiped the blade clean on the grass, replaced it, and headed in search of Calvin. The back door stood open. I walked in and immediately discovered proof that he’d at least told the truth about his brothers.

Two bodies in brown robes lay faceup on the floor in the hallway. Each of them had been shot once in the head, at point-blank range. Their contorted, frozen stares were almost a mercy to look at compared to the exit wounds that were
thankfully not visible. These descendants really were monsters. There had to be a special fiery lake in hell reserved for people who slaughtered monks.

I edged around the carnage and made my way to Calvin’s study. He was there, searching his shelves of scrolls for something. “I told you I’m not going to help you,” he said without looking at me. “Just leave. Or shoot me and then leave, if it makes you feel better.”

“I can’t destroy Ian,” I said.

Calvin shook his head. “I know he’s your … friend.” He lifted his good arm, moved a few scrolls aside, and frowned into the space. “Honestly, though, he’ll be better off if you do. You can’t save him, and they will torture him for a very long time. He’s Gahiji-an the Slayer. He’s killed their kin without remorse.”

“You don’t get it.” I moved farther into the room. “I literally can’t. I tried.”

His gaze swung in my direction. “What?”

“You said djinn can’t destroy their own tethers, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the damned thing’s acting like it’s mine. I started the spell, got my blood all over it, and it lit up with djinn writing like it does with Ian’s blood.”

“Of course,” he breathed. An expression of wonder spread on his face. “You’re his scion.”

“Uh … yeah. So?”

“The
rohii’et.
It must work both ways with you.” He went back to shuffling scrolls, faster this time. “Not a theft, but a true bond. A sharing of souls. Have you noticed anything different—abilities you didn’t have before the spell?”

“I guess,” I said slowly. “I can hear better, smell better, see in the dark. Like a wolf. I never could pull that off before, but Ian can.”

“Yes. Don’t you see? As he can draw from you, so you can from him. Ah, here it is.” He pulled a tightly wound parchment from a shelf. “I have theories about scions, but of course I’ve never been able to test them.”

“Wait a minute. I thought you hated the idea of half-breeds.”

“I wasn’t always opposed.” His good humor faded visibly. “One tends to change one’s views after two thousand years of observation.”

“Oh. Right.” I glanced around the room, suddenly uneasy. Something felt wrong in here. “So, does that mean I have a tether now?”

“It would seem that way. But I can’t be sure. Your situation is unique.” He worked one-handed at the leather tie around the scroll. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see it.”

“Hell no.”

“Well, I had to ask.”

I made a vague noise and moved toward the window, still searching for the source of the wrongness. Maybe they’d sent more goons out. “You know, you should really consider healing yourself,” I said. “You’re going to be permanently crippled or something.”

“I won’t use my power.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“How can you stand by and watch your sister murder innocent people?” I wanted to shake him, or maybe tear his throat out with my teeth. That was a new urge. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s done it. Did you even try to save your so-called brothers?”

“I …” His face crumpled. “I couldn’t. Vaelyn held me back.”

“Uh-huh. And if you’d done something about her years ago, maybe it never would’ve come to this.”

“You have no right to judge me.” For a minute Calvin took on the qualities I’d come to expect from the Morai—vicious, seething hatred; a barely restrained animal gleam in his eyes. “You’re
his
apprentice. The innocents you killed didn’t even have the chance to defend themselves. I won’t be condemned by the likes of you, thief.”

Something inside me cracked. Only Ian called me thief, and he’d earned the right. I grabbed the front of his robe and yanked him toward me. “My name is Donatti. And I learn from my mistakes. Are you gonna do that, or just keep hiding in your little sanctuary behind your man-of-the-cloth act like a sniveling coward? Because if you are, then your brothers died for nothing.”

His fury deepened, and I realized I was holding a two-thousand-year-old djinn by the scruff like a misbehaving dog. Not the most brilliant idea. Before I could say
Sorry, my bad,
his anger switched to astonishment. “Have your eyes always looked like that?”

“Like what?”

“Well, they’re … not exactly human anymore.”

“Huh?” I let go of him, and my hand moved automatically toward my face, as if I could see with my fingertips. “They were human last I checked. What’s wrong with them?”

“Go and look.” He gestured at the other end of the room, where the mirror still hung on the wall.

I turned slowly and approached with caution. My uneasy feeling grew the closer I got to the mirror. From a few feet away, I could tell something was different. My eyes had always been blue, deep blue, like new denim. But now they were pale and wintry, and the irises took up a hell of a lot more eyeball. Add the pinpoint pupils and black rings lining the lids, and it looked like I’d gotten an eye transplant from a Siberian husky.

Terrific. I had permanent guyliner. Jazz was going to love this.

I pushed away the pain of thinking about her and stared at my alien reflection. Just another side effect Ian hadn’t foreseen. “Oh, man,” I groaned. “This is some weird shit. Do you think it’s—”

Something moved in the mirror. A silhouette-shaped distortion rippled the image, then settled. That was probably a bad thing. I backed away and grabbed for my gun. “Calvin,” I said. “Any idea why your mirror doesn’t work for bridging anymore?”

“What do you mean, it doesn’t work?”

I kept watching it. “We tried to come through here first, but it was blocked or something. I think your sister might be fucking with it.”

“How clever of you, Gavyn Donatti.”

The voice came from the mirror. The reflection vanished, and Vaelyn took its place.

I
wasn’t waiting for an insurgence this time. I shot the glass with zero hesitation.

Unfortunately, the bullet bounced off the surface like I’d fired a cotton ball.

Vaelyn grinned. “Now, child. There’s no need for that,” she said—and it was Calvin’s voice, Calvin’s inflections that emerged from her mouth. I had to glance back to make sure he was still standing behind me. If I had any lingering doubts about the twin-sister bit, they were crushed now. “We aren’t going to kill you yet,” Vaelyn said. “You are no threat … weak, diluted, tenth-generation scion of Doma that you are.”

“Yeah? Well, this Doma just took out three of your wonder boys.”

“Yes. We know. All the more reason for prudence and patience on our part.” Her smile stretched farther, baring an impossible number of teeth. “Khalyn won’t turn on us, Gavyn Donatti. He can’t. You’re wasting your breath, when you should be saving it to run.”

“Blast you, Vaelyn!” Calvin took a menacing step forward, despite the quaver in his voice. “How long have you been spying on me?”

“Your bluster is amusing, brother.” The grin fell away, suggesting that she was decidedly not amused. “You will give us what we want. You will perform the
ba’isis
for me.”

“I won’t.”

No translation came to me for that word, but I doubted it was a spell for world peace or eternal sunshine and rainbows.

“Time grows short. We will not be patient much longer.” Vaelyn sneered and raised a hand. “Think there is nothing left we can take from you, brother?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t help you.”

She cut her gaze to me, and the lunatic grin resurfaced. “Run, Gavyn Donatti,” she whispered. “Run and hide, little mongoose. We will enjoy the chase.”

My mouth disengaged from my brain. “Make me, bitch.”

“Very well.”

Her lips moved, and the mirror shivered like a lake in the wind. She reached forward. Her hand broke the surface and extended into the room.

So I put a bullet through it.

Vaelyn showed no sign of pain. She didn’t even flinch. Her smile stayed put. “
Ela na’ar,
” she said, and withdrew. I knew that one.
Fire.

Behind me, Calvin screamed.

I whirled to find him engulfed in flames—real ones, not the psychological burn of a flame curse. And I didn’t know any putting-out-fire spells. “Shit! Now’d be a good time to start using your magic,” I yelled. “Stop, drop, and roll, damn it. Do something!”

He gibbered a few words between screams. They weren’t English, or djinn, and they didn’t change anything. He just stood there burning.

“Fuck, fuck,
fuck.
” I scanned the room looking for
something wet. Fat chance. I had a better shot at finding a stripper in his closet. My gaze landed on the heavy velvet drapes at the window. I grabbed them and yanked hard. The curtain rod detached along with them, pulling a few chunks of plaster from the wall.

I tossed the drapes over the burning djinn. When he was covered, I wrapped both arms around him and dumped him on the floor. The heat seared my skin, practically melted my chest and arms. Trying to ignore the pain, I beat at the fabric with my palms until smoke squirted from the folds. I rolled him twice, gave him a few more whacks just in case, and pulled the drapes off.

At least he wasn’t on fire anymore.

The sight of him did unpleasant things to my stomach. So did the stench. I crouched next to him, hesitant to touch any part of his charred, smoldering body. “Hey. Calvin. If you’re conscious, you should try and get up. We’ve got to get out of here, before—”

Too late. I could feel the heat at my back, hear the ravenous crackle of flames. All those books and scrolls made great kindling. I glanced over my shoulder. The fire already licked at the ceiling, and it was spreading fast.

No sign of awareness from Calvin. I’d have to carry him out. Lucky me.

I slid one arm under his knees, the other under his back, and tried to lift him. Only managed a few inches before I dropped him. He was damned heavy, and the crinkle-slick feel of his ruined skin didn’t help. Jaw clenched, I heaved him into a sitting position and managed to sling him over me in a fireman’s carry.

It took forever to get on my feet. With Calvin across my shoulders like a freakish stole, I traced the path back out of the monastery and started across the yard. I wasn’t sure how far away we should get from the place. Maybe the South Pole.
But I wouldn’t be able to carry him too much longer, so I settled temporarily for the phone booth tree.

There, I set him down as gently as possible and propped him against the trunk. He groaned. I hoped that meant he was conscious. “Calvin,” I said. “You’ve got to heal yourself. We aren’t safe here. We’ve got to move, soon.”

His lips parted slightly. “Can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not? You haven’t used magic for fifty years. You should have enough juice to make a whole new planet or something.”

“Please … help.”

“Damn it, I can’t heal you. I’m mostly human. I don’t have enough power for that. You have to transform, remember?”

He drew a rattling breath. “Blood,” he gasped.

“Shit.” I really didn’t want to do that, but there were no other options. I knelt and fished out a switchblade. Since I’d already sliced my palm earlier, I reopened the cut and held it to his lips with a wave of disgust. Blood drizzled into his mouth, a demented communion.

When the flow stopped, I pulled back and hoped it was enough. A faint glow outlined him and grew stronger. His body shifted, constricted, bowed forward with looping and fluid grace until his head touched the ground. He vanished into the light. Finally, the biggest goddamned snake I’d ever seen lay coiled at my feet.

My brain chose that moment to remind me that a djinn in animal form could kill humans. I decided against climbing the nearest tree or running like hell, but my hand went to the butt of the Sig and stayed there.

After a minute, he changed back into sitting, exhausted Calvin. He studiously avoided looking at me. “You could have left me in there,” he said.

“Maybe. But it would’ve cost me a billion Hail Marys,
and I haven’t said those since grade school.” I frowned. “Why couldn’t you heal yourself ? I mean, you didn’t do anything magical in there. You should’ve had plenty of power.”

“I’m not as strong as you believe. There are … complications.”

“Whatever.” I held a hand out to him. “Come on. I don’t know how far that fire’s going to spread. We should really go somewhere else.”

“Why did you do that?”

I sighed. “Look, let’s save the incredulous chitchat for when we’re not close enough to roast marshmallows, okay?”

“It won’t burn farther than the monastery.” He took my hand anyway, and levered himself up. “But you’re right. We should get away from here. Vaelyn may still be watching.”

“Terrific.” I glanced around at the impassable, directionless forest. “Which way do we go, Columbus?”