Grave War Page 23

  I snatched the plate from the ground, and then scuttled backward, clutching my prize to my chest while getting away from the fish corpse. Then I sat back down, cross-legged, and ran my hand over the plate. It had looked wooden when I’d seen Jenny carrying it, and that seemed to be the case. Better yet, it felt very simple, only the smallest lip on it and no other ornamentation or carvings. It was about as good of a blank slate for a charm as I was likely to get unless someone handed me a gemstone.

  I laid the plate on my lap and then drew my dagger and put it on top, the point aimed away from me in the hopes I didn’t accidentally stab myself when I reached for it in the dark. I closed my eyes, trying to settle my thoughts and find the peace I’d need to fall into a meditative trance.

  Instead my heart raced, and I felt like I could hear each second tick by, hurtling me toward sunset. My brain kept providing me with all the reasons this plan wouldn’t work, from simply not getting the charm done in time, to it not being powerful enough and frying myself when I tried to cross the circle.

  Grinding my teeth, I took a deep breath. Let it out.

  I used to have a charm that would create a bubble of calm in my mind and force me into an artificial trance. It had gotten destroyed months ago when I’d been shoving around reality to disintegrate a horde of starving zombies, and I’d never gotten around to recrafting it. I was seriously regretting that decision now, but I just hadn’t been doing much witchy magic of late. Spellwork had gotten even harder to craft since my fae nature had emerged, and it hadn’t exactly been easy before then. I charged the store of raw magic in my ring, and I kept a few utilitarian spells at the ready, but that was it these days. Hell, I’d mostly cheated on those of late, drawing the raw Aetheric with my planeweaving and not in the traditional manner witches did. But now I needed those old skills.

  Another deep breath. I forced all the conflicting thoughts away and let my consciousness sink lower. Another breath. My heartbeat finally began to slow again, my mind clearing with the expanding moments between thudding beats.

  It took precious minutes, which I tried not to be aware of, but I finally sank low enough to reach a trance, my psyche sinking down and then floating up, out of me and into the Aetheric. I opened my eyes and light and color danced around me in strings of raw magic. There was a small pull, Ryese’s spell tearing at the shields of my mind, as if it could sense I’d sidestepped and had redoubled its efforts. Or maybe here, with my psyche reaching the Aetheric plane, but not my planeweaving, there was enough of a crossover that the spell could get a stronger hold, pull tighter. I’d have to work fast.

  Reaching out to the nearest blue strand of pure energy, I drew on it, drinking it down until I glowed with similar blue light. A giddiness filled me, that magical light filling me, lifting me higher into the Aetheric plane. But I couldn’t lose focus. I had to gather the energy, pull it back with me, and shape my charm before sunset. I reached out again, grabbing a passing green strand and pulling it in before going for another. The air danced with dozens of colors of magic, but I gathered only those that resonated with me, until I shone like a mosaic of green and blue glass on a sunny day. Then I took the magic I’d gathered and dropped back into my body.

  Many witches could take raw magic and craft it directly into a spell. I’d never had any skill at that, which was why I worked primarily with charms directed by runes. My dagger was not an ideal tool to carve runes into a wooden plate, particularly in the dark. But it was what I had. My own skin gave off some light, but not a lot, so I scratched away at the surface of the plate, working mostly by feel and memory, pouring the magic I’d gathered into each line as I worked. Thankfully, the runes to disrupt magic were ones with which I was extremely familiar. When you were not that great at spellwork, knowing how to quickly disrupt an errant spell was pretty important.

  As I scratched the last dash of my rune, I felt the first hint of smothering exhaustion that had marked the time between day and night since the destruction of the door. Which meant I was out of time.

  I shoved the last of the magic I carried into the wood plate, charging the charm with as much juice as I could give it. The charm practically vibrated in my hands, and I was damn proud of the thing, considering the circumstances. It felt strong, the magic sound.

  I just hoped it would be enough.

  Sheathing my dagger in my boot, I climbed to my feet and made my way to the edge of the circle. I moved as close as I could to the magical barrier, judging the distance by the amount of magic biting at my skin as I pressed as close as I dared. I wished I could see, at least a little. I couldn’t tell if I was in front of a mirror or an opening, but I sure hoped it was the latter.

  Then I waited, clutching my disruption charm close.

  Somewhere I couldn’t see, the sun must have been sinking below the horizon. In this pitch-black room with little sound beyond dripping water and nothing else to sense aside from the magic, I could feel the dwindling Faerie magic in ways I never had before. And then, like a rug pulled out from under the world, the magic was gone.

  I gasped, my hand moving to the ball of realities bound above my collarbone. Death had indicated I was carrying strands of Faerie in it, and that they were preventing me from fading as quickly as the other fae. In that moment, as the very air seemed to be ripped from my lungs, with no new air left behind to replace it, I had a hard time believing any magic was left. And yet now, I could feel the thin threads, and as I touched them, I found I could breathe again, though I could still feel that smothering weight of wrongness all around me.

  Then I realized I’d used my planeweaving to reach to Faerie, and it hadn’t hurt. The circle was still active around me, I could feel the prickle of magic in it, but it was a flicker compared to the flame it had been. My charm, on the other hand, still buzzed strongly with Aetheric magic.

  I shoved the charm in front of me, toward the circle I could feel but not see. I hit something solid—a mirror, no doubt—and repositioned myself. My next waving thrust encountered only magic.

  Sparks flew, angry red lines of magic ripping through the air in front of me. It jumped through the charm into my hand, traveling up my arm like fire ants. I jerked back, and the charm hung there, suspended by the competing magic.

  “Come on,” I whispered, willing the charm to be strong enough. I could barely feel Ryese’s spellwork anymore, but it was giving one hell of a fight.

  Sparks continued to cascade over the edge of the circle, between the two mirrors where the plate still hung suspended. I found myself counting the seconds. How long before the moment of sunset passed and the spell began to recover?

  It wasn’t going to work. The charm wasn’t enough . . .

  Then the charm fell to the floor, the spellwork suspending it no longer strong enough to grasp it. I could see the angry, frayed edges where it had torn through, like a narrow rip in a taut cloth.

  I didn’t hesitate, but propelled myself through that tear. The spell caught at me, ripping at my body, my magic, trying to entangle me. But it was too weak, too damaged. I crashed through to the other side, my knees slamming down onto the wet stone, my arms barely breaking the fall enough to keep my face from connecting with the ground.

  In the next moment the time between ended, the transition over as day became night. There was no rush of Faerie magic back into the world, but the smothering lack of it became considerably less oppressive. The spell only inches from my feet began regaining its strength.

  I wanted to lie on the stone floor for a moment, catch my breath, and cradle my smarting knees. But I didn’t have time. I didn’t know where Tem and Jenny were, or how fast they’d recover from sunset. Which meant I had no time to waste.

  I pushed myself up, trying to keep my orientation. I hadn’t actually ever seen the door that led out of the room, but I’d heard it and I’d seen the general direction Tem and Jenny entered and exited from. Now that I was outside Ryese’
s spell, I cracked open my shields. No dizziness, no pain. I was exhausted, but it was the same exhaustion that had been growing for some time now.

  I didn’t try to hold back the sigh as the planes of existence snapped into focus around me. I don’t think I’d ever been so relieved to see a patina of decay suddenly overlay the world. Bright strands of Aetheric magic whirled around, and spaces of color soaked the stone where I’d landed moments before, giving it a temporary stain of pain that faded even as I stared at it. Other planes took shape around me as well, my psyche brushing against them, making them visible to my mental perception. It was a chaotic mess of information, but it was easier to navigate than the pitch dark. It took me only a moment to locate the door. As I suspected, it was unlocked, my captors relying only on Ryese’s spell to hold me. I was glad for that.

  I raced down the hallway—or was it more of a tunnel?—beyond where I’d been held, and then took the stairs I found at the end two at a time. The stairway led me up and up until I reached a door out into what appeared to be a warehouse. I slowed for a moment as I slipped into an empty storage room. There was no one in this room, but I could hear sounds beyond it. I crept to the open doorway, peering out into the much larger space beyond. It was also mostly empty. Whatever this place had been, it must have been long abandoned. But in the center of the room, a small living area had been constructed with a mattress on the floor, an open suitcase, and a mini-fridge. Tem sprawled on the mattress, one huge arm thrown over his eyes. He gave a pained grunt, but didn’t move otherwise.

  From the looks of it, he’d been squatting here longer than just today. That made sense, though. He wasn’t actually winter court, so he couldn’t have been traveling back to winter after work shifts, and I was guessing he’d shown up at the FIB office at least a day or two before I had.

  I scanned the area for Jenny, but she wasn’t here. There also didn’t seem to be a lot of options on doors. I was close to several large cargo bays, but they were sealed tight. An emergency exit had chains securing it, which meant the only door I could escape through was on the other side of Tem’s living area.

  He hadn’t moved, his arm still covering most of his face. I was going to have to risk it.

  I crept across the room as fast as I dared, trying to move silently. My big boots? They weren’t really made for stealth. I did the best I could, but still cringed, pausing to glance at Tem every time one of my footfalls caused the ancient wood floor to creak. Despite what felt like a lot of noise to me, Tem never shifted. He grunted again once or twice, so I knew he was alive, and from the pained sound, he was awake, but apparently he was still suffering from the effects of sunset.

  I was almost to the door when a strange sensation struck me. It started like the kind of electric zing of someone walking over your grave, but then it turned more intense, painful. I couldn’t figure out what was going on at first, but then I saw the small shape jump free of my shadow. Dugan’s shadow cat. She’d apparently just used my ties to Faerie to move through from a shadow in Faerie to my shadow, and with the amount of damage my magic and psyche had taken over the course of the evening from Ryese’s spell, the passage hurt.

  I must have made some sound, or maybe I’d just run out of luck, because Tem’s arm moved as he sat up. His eyes landed on me instantly, his face changing from an expression of pain to one of shock.

  “Boss? What . . . ? How did you . . . ?” His words were slightly slurred, confused sounding. But by the end of them, he was struggling to his feet.

  I didn’t wait around to see how disoriented he still was, but took off for the door, running as fast as I could. The door dumped me into an alley, and I glanced around only long enough to realize that there was only one way to go that wasn’t a dead end, then I was running again. Of course, once I reached the mouth of the alley, I had a choice to make.

  I glanced in both directions, but I didn’t recognize the street. Considering I’d emerged in a warehouse, I wasn’t surprised to find myself in the industrial part of town. I didn’t recognize the street, but I could hear the Sionan River in the distance. It was a rough area, and more or less abandoned at this time of day.

  The shadow cat had followed me when I’d run, but now she turned and took off up the road. Either direction looked as promising as the other—all I cared about was putting some distance between me and the troll who was no doubt giving chase—so I followed the cat. My heart skittered in my chest, my lungs burning, as I pushed myself to keep moving, to run faster. Then I stopped short because just up ahead was a very familiar blue car parallel parked on the street.

  My very familiar blue car.

  I dashed to it, certain I couldn’t be lucky enough that it would really be mine. Except it was, and it was unlocked, with my purse still on the floorboard where it must have fallen during my struggle with Tem. The car had to have been hidden under a glamour all day to have sat unlocked in this part of town and still be here.

  I jumped inside, the shadow cat following me, her tail swishing violently. The interior reeked of fetid troll blood, but I didn’t care because the car started when I hit the ignition button, which meant my keys were still in my purse and I didn’t have to outrun Tem. The driver’s seat had been moved all the way back—no doubt so that Tem could drive it here after he’d knocked me out—and I couldn’t even reach the pedals. I hit the button to adjust it, but didn’t waste time getting it perfect. As soon as it was close enough that I could reach the gas, I threw the car into gear.

  Tem had reached the street. He was staggering, but still making a good pace toward me. I floored it, jolting the car into the street, both hands locked on the wheel. I could hear Tem bellowing in rage behind me, but I didn’t stop to look back. I’d escaped, and I was getting the hell out of there.

  Chapter 22

  There was a very good reason my driver’s license listed the restriction that I could not drive at night.

  I couldn’t see.

  There was a dotting of streetlamps on some of the roads, but that wasn’t near enough light for my bad eyes. So I’d been stubbornly peering across the planes, but the chaotic mess of planes revealed the landscape to my mind instead of my eyes. It was not the best way to navigate a two-ton vehicle traveling at breakneck speed.

  I ran two stop signs and a light before the fog of adrenaline-fueled flight thinned enough that I realized that while I didn’t want Tem to catch up to me, I also didn’t want to accidentally kill anyone, myself included. Thankfully, this part of town was fairly quiet, the streets more or less empty. That wouldn’t be the case when I reached a more populated area, though.

  I slowed at the next intersection, in part because I was trying to figure out where the heck I was, and because, as I squinted at the traffic light, I couldn’t actually tell what color it was. Aetheric energy swirled everywhere, tinting everything with splashes of random color, and the stoplight itself looked like it was about to fall off the wire holding it, the land of the dead making it appear as if all the lights had been busted, the casing around them rusted.

  Great.

  I inched the car forward, checking that both directions were clear before crossing the intersection, still not sure if the light had been green or red. The next intersection was just as bad, but this one had an odd formless . . . something . . . hanging out at the corner of the street. The other problem about peering across planes? There were other entities that lived on some of those planes, and a lot of them weren’t exactly friendly. I sped through that intersection without stopping, but the next one actually had a car, which in my sight was such a rust bucket, if I hadn’t seen the soft glow of a soul inside, I wouldn’t have realized it was only stopped at the light and not parked.

  This was not working.

  In the seat beside me, the shadow cat paced, her tail whipping in apparent agitation. “I feel you,” I grumbled to her, though I had no idea how much she could understand.

  She j
umped onto the dash to pace there instead. “Hey. Don’t block my view.” I was having enough problems without adding a pacing shadow getting in the way.

  I reached a major street, one I actually recognized. I could go left to head back downtown or right to cross the river and head toward the magic district. I needed to get off the road. Driving like this was insane. Leaning across the seat, I searched the passenger floorboard for my phone. I found it under my purse, the screen shattered, the plastic casing crushed. For half a heartbeat I hoped it only looked that bad because I was seeing it across the planes. But no. It really was smashed. Tem must have crushed it after spelling me.

  Great. So that eliminated the possibility of calling for help. Hell, I couldn’t even summon a ride-share to come pick me up. It also meant I had no way to check in and see if the police were still looking for me. I glanced toward the Magic Quarter. I wanted more than anything to go home and curl under the covers with my dog, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything useful, and considering I needed to avoid both the human authorities and Ryese’s minions, it wasn’t a safe option. I could go back to the FIB headquarters; I was pretty sure Nori was loyal to winter, but after the last few hours, I wasn’t particularly inclined to take any chances.

  Which meant turning left was my best option. I could head to my father’s just like I’d planned before I’d been abducted. I’d never told Tem where I’d been headed, so it wasn’t like I’d be easy to track, and I still needed to talk to the shadow court about a door for the independents. If Falin was still in shadow, it would be good to tell him what I’d learned about Ryese. The power-crazy fae needed to be stopped, and I doubted the fact that he was now the Light King would make things any easier. I had doubts I’d find Falin in shadow, though. He’d seen at least part of Tem’s attack before the troll had ripped the mirror off my car, and Falin wasn’t the type to wait around.