Unquiet Dreams (28 page)

I tilted my head at him. “You don’t understand her either?”

He shook his head. “It’s Greek to me.”

“Free me,” she said. I felt the compulsion to release her again. I forced myself to listen to her speak, heard rough rolling sounds through an auditory illusion of English. “How are we speaking?” I asked.

“You are druides. I am drys. By the wood, I beg you, free me, cousin.”

My jaw dropped. As she said it, I knew it for truth. Many fey like to style themselves as higher beings, even gods and goddesses. But they’re nothing more than different species. A drys, though, a drys is the real deal, essence incarnate, the heart of the oak. I didn’t believe they really existed. I thought they were just mystic mumbo jumbo.

“Shit, Murdock. I think I just found religion,” I said, loosening her restraints. “Trust me, Murdock, it’s okay. We have to get her out of here.”

He nodded, but didn’t move to help. “Make it fast. I don’t like this.”

I pulled the needle out of her arm and helped her into a sitting position. Even seated, I could see she wasn’t going to be able to walk out easily. She slid off the table to stand unsteadily. Searching the room, she pointed. “The staff. I will need it.”

I followed her gesture to an oak staff leaning in the corner near a closed door. I took it in my hand, almost dropping it in surprise. A field surrounded the wood, thin, but strong. “The wood’s alive. Why put a field on a staff to keep the wood alive?”

“It’s all that’s left. If it dies, I die. He needs me,” said the drys.

“Yes, he does,” a voice said. Murdock dropped behind the table, his gun sighted on a figure in the doorway. The drys stood between us, her overwhelming essence blotting out everything to my senses. I hadn’t felt C-Note at all.

The drys lifted her hands and stepped toward him. “I would be free. You promised.”

“You will be soon,” he said.

She moved closer to him, her hands raising higher. “Please, I cannot wait. You will have to bury me if we wait any longer.”

He lifted a clawed hand toward her, and she paused. “Get back on the table, Hala, or I shall not be happy. You know what happens when I am not happy.”

She drifted away from him toward the table, a look of anguish on her face. He extended his hand toward me. “The staff, please.”

I held it across my chest and stepped back. I could feel my mind straining to use the staff, lift it toward him and knock him back. It would hurt me, but I still wanted to do it. Hala’s eyes bored into mine. I could feel her in my head willing me to act, demanding I comply with her desire. I lifted the staff even though I knew it was pointless. The mass in my head wouldn’t let my ability through. I knew that, but she had control over me. This was the compulsion in the drug. It was the drys. C-Note had figured out how to use her blood to control it.

The troll took a step forward. “This is pointless. You cannot escape.”

“Stand down,” Murdock said.

The lock on my mind released as Hala turned her attention to Murdock.

C-Note turned toward him. “There are volatiles in here, Detective. Do not be foolish. You must know it’s useless to use a gun against me.”

Murdock chambered a round. “I’m not too bright.”

Without hesitation, C-Note thrust his hand at Murdock. As he did, I was aware of every movement, every fraction of a second. Something about Hala augmented my senses. I could actually see the essence swirling out of his hand and wrapping itself into a spell of yellow fire. I couldn’t stop it with ability, but I had the staff. I swung it into the path of the spell. The field on the staff sparked, and I felt a jolt. The spell veered over Murdock’s head and hit the end of the lab table in a shower of sparks.

Murdock spun toward the explosion, dropping to the floor. With barely a shrug, C-Note flipped the table at him. In an instant, Murdock’s essence blazed up around him. He caught the edge of the table as it fell toward him and tossed it away.

C-Note didn’t move. I think he was shocked. I was. He recovered and lifted both hands, Power beginning to emanate between them. The drys took the moment to pick a side.

“No!” she screamed and lunged at him. She hit him in the back, and he staggered with arc lights of essence springing wildly from his hands. Murdock was right, she packed a wallop for such a small person. A cascade of lightning sprang to life throughout the room. The front of a cabinet burst open, its contents shattering on the floor. The shock of lightning hit it, and flames leaped up.

C-Note recovered his balance. Essence built up in his hands, a shimmer that would turn into visible light any moment. A swirl of more essence rolled from the drys and surrounded him. C-Note stiffened, and the power drained from his hands.

“Enough. Let us leave this place,” she said.

He turned toward her, anger in his face. “Do not defy me. I will bring more pain on you than you can ever imagine.”

“How the hell did you get control of a tree spirit?” I demanded.

C-Note’s eyes flicked from the drys to me. “Once I found her, it was only a matter of time.”

Hala’s eyes went to the lab table with its menagerie of glass. “He twists the will of the wood with his mind. He spreads it like plague. He takes my Power and controls people’s minds.”

Billows of smoke rolled through the room, and I moved back to the windows. “Let’s move this,” said Murdock. “Something tells me this building’s not up to code.”

I glanced at the fire. “I want to know what you’re doing, C-Note.”

“Connor, the fire…” Murdock warned.

The smoke thickened along the ceiling. C-Note looked up at it, not too happy, either, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook.

A surge of essence welled up from Hala. “Tell him.”

He glared at her, setting his jaw. I could see him struggling to resist.

Impatient with him, Hala spoke. “The Guild. He strikes at the heart of the Guild. He seeks to rule. I have heard him swear to do it.”

I could see C-Note’s essence building. Almost effortlessly, he shrugged off Hala’s spell. “And I keep my promises,” C-Note said. A shock of white fire blasted from him, knocking us from our feet. More lab equipment toppled, glass breaking, liquids flying across the floor. My head screamed as my body shields came up. I felt pricks of glass deflecting off me. My vision blurred as I huddled on the floor. Hala’s essence augmented my shields, but the mass in my head fought against her.

Flames shot up as something ignited. I scrambled back. Murdock stumbled toward the door. The fire leaped between us. I rocked to my knees. “Murdock! Get Meryl!” I shouted.

He stood indecisively, his gun sighted on C-Note. The troll threw a bolt of essence at him. It missed, hitting the wall behind him. The floor shook as the essence reinforcing the building absorbed the hit. Murdock ducked through the door.

C-Note tilted his head, and I felt a tremor run through the building. He was pulling any available essence into himself, drawing it from the spells holding the building together. As he pulled it into himself, the walls began to buckle as they lost the essence holding them up.

“I never imagined you would get this close. I am impressed,” said C-Note.

“Murdock! You can’t fight him. Go!” I shouted over the noise.

He didn’t answer, but I felt his essence recede. I stood and leaned on the staff. It felt slick in my hands, vibrating with essence. Hala stood between me and C-Note, oblivious to the fire. Her eyes blazed with emerald light. C-Note stared back, his own eyes a feral yellow. I could feel pulsing waves of essence from both of them. The room trembled as they absorbed energy from their surroundings. C-Note pulled faster, though. He had the advantage. The building was mostly steel and concrete, of little use to a nature spirit like Hala, whose abilities tapped into organic matter like wood. C-Note stepped forward, and she backed away. The air vibrated with Power as he pulled more essence out of the building.

“I will die before I let you touch me again,” Hala said, her voice resonating with Power.

“You will die when I say,” said C-Note. He thrust his hands out, and she fell back with a groan. The staff shook in my hand. It was living wood, probably the only thing in the room from which Hala could draw essence. She didn’t tap into it. Instead, I could feel her trying to absorb what she could from the building, the odd bits of wood essence trapped amid all the stone and metal.

I stood helpless. Hala’s essence was augmenting my body shields, but they were only defensive in a fight. I couldn’t use the staff itself, so I held it out to her. “Take it!”

Mistake. It seemed to break her attention, and her own shields wavered. “Keep it away from me!” she cried out.

I wasn’t going to argue. I could see the fear in her eyes, but I didn’t know why. My gaze roved the floor, looking through the scattered equipment. I edged toward the door.

Without taking his eyes from Hala, C-Note gestured toward the door Murdock had run through. The fire danced across the floor and blocked the exit. The floor began to undulate from the stress of the two of them drawing essence. Hala stepped back again, broken glass piercing her feet. I looked down at the glass. Sometimes essence works like electricity. Sometimes like light. It doesn’t work well through glass.

I opened the window. Cold wind whipped my hair. No fire escape, but a wide ledge. It ran along the building to the corner, past the burning wall. We’d have a few seconds of protection.

“Hala, take my hand!” I held it out to her.

She looked at me, uncertain. It seemed to finally dawn on her that this was not a winning fight. Keeping her shield up, she grasped my hand and let me pull her out onto the ledge. The wind lashed her hair into a frenzy. She didn’t even shiver.

“Hit him with everything you’ve got!” I yelled.

She let loose a burst of essence that bloomed like a star in the room. C-Note reeled under it and fell back. We ran. I pulled Hala behind me, her body spent of its Power. The windows rattled as C-Note recovered and tried to grab us with a binding spell. It passed harmlessly through the glass. As we reached the corner of the building, wind blasted at us around the corner. I steadied myself with the staff.

“Don’t let it touch me,” Hala said, her voice strained. If possible, she looked even more ill. We sidestepped around the corner. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the fire escape. The relief vanished instantly. The wrought-iron stairs ended two flights below. We had to go through a window or up to the roof. I decided to go up.

The tar roof rattled under our feet as I helped Hala over the parapet. At the back of the building, smoke roiled upward. “We have to keep moving,” I said to Hala.

We ran for a stairwell penthouse near the front. A blast of essence hit us halfway to the door. I sprawled on my face, and the staff skittered away from me. I rolled over to see Hala lying facedown. Beyond her, C-Note was pushing his huge bulk through the penthouse at the back of the roof. He pointed at us, and let loose with another blast. It flew over our heads and shattered the front stairwell penthouse.

I rocked to my feet. With two quick steps, I grabbed the staff and hauled Hala up at the same time. I could feel her strain to gather essence from around us, but we were out of her element. I hustled us toward the front.

“He’s not trying to kill us,” I said. Hala didn’t respond. He could have killed us twice over by now, but he’d let his shots go wide. He wanted Hala alive. We made it to the remains of the penthouse. C-Note shot another blast, sending bricks and wood timbers into the air. Without a thought, I hugged Hala to my chest and flung both of us into the exposed stairwell. She landed harder than I did.

“Come on. We can make it,” I said. She pulled herself up, heavy with exhaustion. Holding her waist, I forced her to walk down the stairs. The essence holding them drained away and vanished. Gravity asserted itself, and the stairs sagged beneath us with a nauseating slowness. With a roar, the remains of the roof flew up, taking part of the stairs and walls with it. We fell, tumbling over each other, arms and legs tangling, and collapsed roughly on the floor.

A knife of pain stabbed into my forehead. I curled into a ball, retching. I cursed loudly. Of all times, someone was scrying. I shook off the pain and crawled to Hala. Her head lolled against my shoulder.

“Come on, come on. He’s coming.”

Her eyes fluttered. “Don’t let him get the staff.”

I had dropped the damned staff again. I searched frantically through the chaos of the hallway, feeling my way more with my ability-sensing than vision. Its essence flared against the dullness of the building. I grabbed it and rushed back to Hala, as plaster dust from the ceiling poured on our heads. With a thunderous sound, C-Note plunged through the ceiling in a rain of brick and mortar. As he landed awkwardly, I pushed Hala into an adjoining room.

The wall exploded behind us, and the building shuddered. The essence holding it together receded, coalescing up and out in the hall as C-Note pulled more into himself. Cracks appeared in the floor, and it canted sideways. We tumbled against the far wall. Smoke from the spreading fire poured in from the next room.

C-Note stood at the door. “Give me the staff.”

I didn’t bother answering. He wouldn’t just let us go if I gave it to him. C-Note stepped into the room. Whether from his weight or from its own overloaded stress, the floor groaned loudly. With a screech of metal, it slumped and shattered into the club below. I could hear screams as the music stopped.

I clutched Hala to my chest as we perched on a small patch of floor still clinging to the wall. Fifty feet of open space yawned below us. People scattered from the dance floor. The rumble of an explosion shuddered up from below, and the lights went out.

In the surreal silence that followed, the fire surged into the remains of the room. With my back to the wall, I could feel the building swaying with a nauseating rhythm. Hala was lying next to me, unconscious.

“This isn’t the way to die with a naked woman,” I said. I stroked her hair. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t think it was funny.

Gusts of wind pushed the smoke back. On the opposite side of the cavernous hole in the floor, C-Note hung with his arm wrapped around an exposed beam. He stretched a clawed hand toward us. The staff moved, pulling away from me. I tightened my fist, but the field around it made it slick. I gripped it with both hands. C-Note flexed his hand, and the staff wrenched itself from my grasp. It sailed across the open space to the other side, flying directly into his outstretched hand. As he closed his taloned fingers around it, the staff shimmered and morphed into the black staff he had had with him earlier.