Fate's Edge

Chapter Twelve

THE Wooden Cathedral was large and full to the brim. The mass of people should have made Audrey feel safer. The best place for a thief to hide was in a crowd, especially a crowd like this: well dressed, nicely groomed, seemingly law-abiding, and above reproach. Except that the gathering put out a strained, odd vibe. From the moment the Church of the Blessed people had ushered them into the bus, which had taken them to the Edge, the congregation was unsettled. Now, as they took their seats on the uncomfortable benches of the Wooden Cathedral, their agitation had reached the boiling point.
The church had only one center aisle, and Audrey had an aisle seat. People passed her, walking to their own seats, and their anxiety rolled off them like sweat. They spoke to each other, but no lasting conversations sprung up. Their faces were haggard, their eyes haunted. They fidgeted impatiently in their expensive suits and pricey dresses, grasping at their seats, searching with their stares the front of the church, where a lonely pulpit sprouted from a raised stage. Like a crowd of starving beggars who'd heard a rumor that someone was about to give out bread, the congregation waited, gripped by nervous tension.
She glanced at Kaldar, sitting on her left. His face seemed carefree, but his eyes, cold and alert, searched the crowd, evaluating it.
Armed guards waited by the door and near the pulpit. Nobody seemed to pay them any mind, as if being in the presence of men with rifles was the most natural thing in the world. Seth, their handler, explained to them that the guards are there because they had been seeing mountain lions in the area. The explanation seemed half-baked, but the guards made an effort to be cordial. They smiled, opened doors, waved at people. Most of the congregation, probably Yonker's regulars, didn't care, and if the few newcomers had any second thoughts, they kept their doubts to themselves.
Hell, if what George's book said was true, the people probably didn't see the rifles, as if the guards weren't even there. According to what they'd read, the gadget was designed by the Cult of Karuman specifically to convince its followers that Karuman's priests were avatars of their god. Followers of Karuman willingly sacrificed themselves to their deity; sometimes entire families burned themselves alive. The cult was now outlawed. How Ed Yonker had gotten ahold of a hundred-year-old relic was anyone's guess, but nothing good had come from it.
With each passing minute, the tension in the church grew thicker and thicker, electrified with anticipation and hysteria.
Audrey kept scanning the crowd, looking for the boys. They'd both heard a slight thud when the bus took off - Gaston landing on the roof - so he was here somewhere, but neither George nor Jack were anywhere to be seen.
She glanced back to the stage. Ed had spared no expense. The pulpit was rich mahogany. A heavy purple fabric embroidered with a golden cross draped the edge of the stage. Above it, pictures hung suspended from the ceiling in frames, all showing Yonker with various world leaders. She seriously doubted that there was a single un-Photoshopped image in the bunch.
"Is this your first time?" In the row in front of her, a young girl with bleached blond hair had turned halfway to her.
"Yes, it is!" Audrey tried to sound excited.
"I come here all the time. I'm a Blessed Maiden."
"What's that?"
"I help Preacher Ed connect with God." The girl nodded sagely. "He uses my body as a vessel."
Oh, Ed, you swine. "Are there many Blessed Maidens, or are you the only one?"
"There are eight of us." The girl smiled, her eyes innocent on the young face. "Don't worry, if Preacher Ed finds you worthy, you may be called to serve, too."
Yes, I'll slice his throat first. "That's nice."
The girl turned away. Audrey hugged her shoulders, crushing the fabric of the new yellow suit she'd bought for the occasion. It was just as expensive as the pink one, twice as ridiculous, and it bared so much of her breasts, she could cause a small riot. None of it made her feel better. She had a distinct feeling that their scheme wouldn't go well.
Her thoughts kept returning to the wyvern and Ling the Merciless and the little cat. Gaston had wanted to cage them, but she told him not to do it. If something happened . . . well, at least Ling wouldn't starve to death locked in a cage.
Kaldar's warm arms closed around her. He pulled her closer, leaning toward her ear, and kissed her neck, his lips hot, his touch reassuring. His whisper sounded in her ear, meant for her alone. "I have two magic bombs, and my sword is hidden in my jacket. I can carve my way through all of them. Nobody here will stop us. It will go smooth as silk. I promise."
Again with swords. "How will your sword stop a bullet?" she whispered.
"I'll show you. Relax, Audrey. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I want you so badly, I can taste it."
She pulled back from him and saw his eyes, laughing at her. "In this yellow suit?"
"I love the yellow suit," he told her. "I love your face, your eyes, your breasts, your ass, I love it all."
Impossible man. "We're about to get killed, and you're fantasizing about my ass?"
"I can't help it."
"You're insane," she whispered. Her tension evaporated into the air.
"The boys," he whispered back.
George and Jack, scrubbed clean and dressed in identical plain white T-shirts and sweatpants, came down the aisle, led by Paul. George looked calm. Jack's eyes were huge and wild. The crowd's mood was probably wreaking havoc on his nerves.
"Boys!" Audrey rose and waved.
Paul stared at her cleavage for a long second, then pushed the boys forward.
"There you are." Audrey made a big show of hugging first George, then Jack, whispering the same thing into their ears, "Get ready to run."
The kids sat next to Kaldar. Paul turned away.
"Aren't you staying for the sermon?" Audrey asked.
"No. I have some errands." Paul headed up the aisle. Other camp staffers were leaving as well. A couple of moments, and the church doors began to close behind them. Audrey watched the light between them shrink with a sinking feeling.
The doors clanged closed. They were locked in.
FROM his position at the root of a large pine, Karmash peered at the men with guns shutting the church doors. The camp sat on the side of a hill, and from his vantage point, Karmash had an excellent view of the entire place. He'd observed both Kaldar Mar and the red-haired woman enter the church and had released an enhanced message bird the moment Karmash had seen Kaldar's face.
The priest had a small but solid compound. Karmash personally counted twelve guards, quite a force. Two went inside the church, two remained by the church doors, and the rest filed into a log house on the far left. None of them would present a problem.
Cotier scuttled down the pine trunk, descending from the branches like a lizard, with his head down. Muscular, quick, the scout was an odd creature even by the Hand's standards: brown and green pigments swirled within his skin, and as he paused on the trunk, his face mimicked its colors and rough brown pattern. His voice came out as a low, slightly sibilant whisper. "What are they doing?"
"It appears they're locking them in."
"That's not good."
"Thank you for stating the obvious." He had no idea what the Edgers were doing, but whatever it was, it required armed guards and barred doors. In Karmash's experience, that was never a good combination for the party that was being locked in.
"Should we do something?"
Helena was really too permissive with her crew. Agents under his command never questioned his decisions in such a manner. Karmash weighed the choices at hand. The real question was what would piss Helena off more, acting against her orders or losing Kaldar Mar to some Edger insanity.
Nobody bothered to question the winners. If he delivered Kaldar Mar, all would be forgiven. He might even be commended for taking the initiative.
The two guards took position by the doors, brandishing their rifles.
If he screwed this up, there would be no coming back.
Karmash gritted his teeth. He couldn't take a chance on losing Kaldar. That would be unforgivable, and Helena wasn't known for her mercy.
He shrugged off his camouflage cloak. Mura stepped out from behind a tree trunk, her orange skin bright against the greenery despite camouflage paint. Karmash nearly winced. True, as a slayer, Mura was never meant to be used in a forest setting, but her skin was almost fluorescent. She would've never made the cut in Spider's crew. Helena's standards clearly differed.
To the left, Soma emerged from the underbrush and crouched. Thick, monstrous muscle sheathed the hunter's frame. His hair dripped down his back in long blond rolls, matching the crest of fur running down his spine. The hunter raked the forest floor with his enormous claws. His gaze bored into the two guards below.
"Soma," Karmash called.
The hunter didn't answer.
"Soma!"
The man slowly turned his head and peered at Karmash with pale eyes. His face showed no expression; it was like looking at a wolf.
"Do not kill the male. Helena needs him alive. Do you understand me?"
Soma didn't answer.
"Do you understand?"
Soma glanced at Cotier. The scout gave him an understanding look. Fury boiled inside Karmash.
"Don't look at him. Answer me!"
"He can't," Cotier said. "He gave up his power of speech for the glory of Gaul. He understands."
Karmash growled under his breath.
"Would you like me to take out the guards?" Cotier asked.
"No." Karmash started toward the camp.
THE choir filed onstage, their faces rapt, lit up with inner joy. Their voices blended into one. "Hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah . . ."
The side door opened, and Yonker walked into the aisle. He wore a black business suit. A crimson Superman-like cape perched on his shoulders, held in place by a gold cloak chain. Her gaze fastened on the chain. The Eyes of Karuman. They hadn't gotten the emitter exactly right, but they were close, very close.
The crowd gasped.
Yonker raised his arms.
Nobody laughed. Nobody called him out or ridiculed his outfit. An older woman in the back row began to weep. The man in front of them rocked back and forth, mumbling, "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus."
Dear Lord, what sort of madhouse is this?
Yonker began his procession down the aisle. People reached out, crawling over each other to touch his hands. Fifteen feet.
How exactly would Kaldar pull this off in plain view? She had to shield them from the rest of the audience somehow.
Twelve feet.
Six.
Audrey hopped off her seat, putting an extra bounce into it. Her breasts went up and down in the satin cage of her bra, and Yonker stared down her cleavage. She held out her hands, smiling her big smile, tears glistening in her eyes. Yonker held out his hands, and she hugged him, sliding her hand under his cape to grab his ass. Ed's eyes widened, and he pulled her closer.
"Excuse me." Kaldar rose. His arms covered hers and he gently untangled her from Yonker's chest. "My wife is getting too much into the spirit."
"That's fine." Yonker waved his hand magnanimously and went on to the podium, his chain intact.
That hug lasted barely five seconds. Not nearly enough time to exchange the chain. The realization sank in like a heavy stone to the pit of her stomach. They had failed.
KARMASH strode to the house on the left, where the murmur of voices announced the presence of people. The three operatives followed him.
"Where are you going?" Cotier murmured, a step behind.
"We need sword meat."
"There is only one Edger man and one woman."
Karmash was getting tired of this constant opposition. "You haven't fought the Mars. I have. We'll need a shield of bodies between us. Trust me on this."
The door loomed in front of him. He punched it open and walked into the room. Eight men stared at him. He noted rifles on the walls. As he'd surmised, they were the rest of the priest's guards.
Karmash reached into his pocket and dropped a handful of gold coins on the table. A small ransom. A quiet sound fluttered through the room as six men simultaneously sucked in their breath.
"I'm hunting a man," Karmash said. "He's in your church trying to kill your priest. I need this man alive. Help me apprehend him, and this gold is yours."
AUDREY landed in her seat and leaned over to Kaldar. "What's the plan, C again?"
Kaldar slipped his arm around her, pulling her closer, possessive, and toyed with her hair. "No need for Plan C. I've got it."
"What?"
He eased his jacket open, squeezing the lining with his hand, and she glimpsed the outline of the chain in the secret pocket. "How . . . When?"
"Trade secret, love." He smiled at her.
Damn it, but the man is smooth. She leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth.
"Careful now," he murmured.
Ed Yonker climbed to the pulpit and raised his hands. "Brothers and sisters!"
The crowd stared at him, rapt.
"Listen to me and heed my words."
The crowd stared. Someone cleared their throat.
"Today I bring you the Blessed Light!"
The crowd watched him. Yonker frowned. Alarm squirmed through Audrey. Something must have usually happened during this part of the service, and it was clearly not happening. George leaned to Kaldar and whispered urgently. Kaldar leaned toward her. "The gems are supposed to emit light when hit with magic."
"I don't suppose you can do emotion-manipulation magic?" she whispered.
"No."
Audrey eased her feet out of her spiked heels.
Yonker touched the chain. His face turned bright red with fury.
A man jumped up on the right. Slicked-back hair, pale, where had she see him before? The recognition popped like a soap bubble in her head: Magdalene's receptionist, Adam, with the weird haircut. He'd pulled his hair back off his face, and it had thrown her for a minute.
The pale man pointed at them. "They stole it! They took it!"
Magdalene had double-crossed them.
"Kill them!" Yonker bellowed.
"Cover your ears!" Kaldar hurled something toward the pulpit. Audrey clamped her hands over her ears.
The guards yanked their rifles off their shoulders.
A brilliant white light exploded between the benches and the stage, followed by a clap of thunder that punched through her hands straight into her eardrums. The church shook. The pictures danced and crashed to the floor.
A dozen people screamed at once. Men and women jumped from their seats, pushing each other out of the way in a rush to get out, concealing them temporarily from the guards. Audrey jumped to her feet and pushed her way into the aisle, trying to brace against the crowd so the boys could exit. Jack somersaulted over her head and landed in the center aisle, his eyes on fire with glowing amber. George ran along the bench like a tightrope walker. Jack grabbed her right arm, George took her left, and they pulled her to the doors. Kaldar brought up the rear.
The white light turned orange as the photographs and the purple brocade at the altar caught fire. The choir fled. Yonker didn't move. He simply stood there, bewildered, looking at the flames.
A bench collapsed in the other row, knocking a knot of bodies to the ground. The closest guard was closing in, clubbing people streaming to the doors with the butt of his rifle. A long, slender blade flashed in Kaldar's hand.
He does have a sword. Audrey blinked.
The guard took aim, almost point-blank. Kaldar sliced, someone howled, and the flood of people hid them from her view.
The crowd crashed against the church doors. They held. People smashed into Audrey, pushing her forward into the writhing mass of bodies clawing at the door. We'll get crushed, flashed through her head.
A loud yell, savage and inhuman, overtook the desperate cries of the crowd. The doors parted, and for a moment Audrey saw a giant man, silhouetted against the light, enormous muscles bulging on his arms. He leaped aside, and people spilled out of the church, into the sunlight.
"Go!" Audrey pushed the boys forward. "Go, go, go."
The press of the crowd carried them outside. They burst into the open, running past two men with rifles. A guard on the right, a big thick man with a short beard, cursed. "Thin the crowd! Thin the crowd, or we'll lose him."
The man next to him raised his rifle and fired into the crowd. A dark-haired man dropped to the ground. On the other side of the church, another gunshot popped. A man screamed.
They were shooting at their own congregation.
The bearded guard raised his rifle.
Oh no, no you don't, you sick bastard.
Audrey sprinted and hit him, ramming him hard with her shoulder. The man went down. Jack landed on top of him with a guttural snarl, ripped the rifle from the guard's hands, and smashed the butt into the man's head. The other guard stumbled back, jerking his weapon up.
George's eyes ignited with white. Tiny streaks of white flash, bright like lightning, rolled from his hands.
The guard dropped the rifle and took off.
People still ran from the church. Kaldar and Gaston were nowhere in sight.
The kids were looking at her. They had to get a car. Audrey whirled, looking around. Yonker's Jeep Cherokee was parked on the side of the church. "Jack, grab that rifle and follow me!" She sprinted to the Jeep, her bare feet barely touching the ground.
THE exit beckoned Kaldar, a glowing rectangle of light. He walked up the aisle, light on his feet. Behind him, two men writhed in pain. Farther still, behind the low wall of fire, Yonker screamed curses from the pulpit.
A peculiar calm claimed Kaldar, the smooth serenity that always came to him in battle. His family was old, rooted in a half-forgotten time when wars had pushed elite warriors of the old Weird kingdoms into the pit of hell that was the Mire. Their blood flowed in his veins. His uncle was a man of the Old Ways - his sword was death on the battlefield. Cerise was one, too. His brother Richard was one as well. And so was he.
The blade had been a part of Kaldar's education since he could stand on his own two feet. He didn't like to kill unless he had no choice. Not even Murid's death had changed that. But he was raised to find peace within the slaughter, and that peace sustained him now.
A bullet whistled by Kaldar's ear. On the left, a young man, barely old enough to hold a rifle, tried to reload his weapon with shaking hands. Kaldar ducked and threw a knife. The blade sank into the wall next to the guard's head. The boy dropped the rifle.
"Run!" Kaldar called.
The guard scrambled outside.
"You!" Yonker snapped out of his daze and screamed like a stuck bull. "Stop him!"
A man lunged at Kaldar from the right. Large, muscular, but sadly too slow. Kaldar rolled his blade over the man's left thigh. Blood gushed. Kaldar leaned away from the man's punch and sliced the other thigh. The man croaked something and went down like a log. Kaldar skirted him and kept walking. Three guards burst through the doors, ran down the aisle, saw him, and halted. The blond man on the left looked at the two bodies behind him. "Holy shit."
"Shoot him!" Yonker howled from behind the flames. "Shoot his ass!"
Kaldar looked at their faces. "Let me pass, and you will live."
"He said to take him alive," the man on the left said.
"Fuck that." The older of the men jerked his rifle up.
Kaldar flashed. The magic flared from him in a blue sheath, shielding him. The guard's bullet ricocheted and bit into the wall.
Kaldar ran forward.
As one, the guards fired.
"HOLD on!" Audrey stomped on the gas. The Jeep roared and jumped over the threshold into the church. She saw Kaldar in the aisle, three armed men opposing him, and slammed on her brakes. Kaldar's face was so relaxed, she barely recognized him. The Jeep skidded to a stop.
The guards fired. A glowing blue wall surrounded Kaldar. The bullets impacted on it with weak ripples and bounced off. The light imploded, sucked back into Kaldar's blade.
Kaldar struck. Light, graceful like a dancer, he cleaved the first guard's arm. It fell off. Kaldar kept moving, so sickeningly fast, she had no chance to be shocked. He spun, moving as if his joints were fluid, sliced the second man's chest, his blade going through the muscle and bone like a hot knife through butter, swept past him, and thrust his blade backward, into the small of the third guard's back.
The three men dropped.
Kaldar turned toward her and smiled. It wasn't his usual smug smile. His face was at once sad and at peace. Audrey wasn't sure who this man was, but she knew she hadn't met him before.
The corners of Kaldar's mouth drooped, and the smile turned into a scream. "Get out! Get out now!"
"Kids, out!"
They scrambled out of the car. She shoved her door open. A large metal dart smashed into the hood and shivered, stuck upright, its end glowing. Audrey grabbed the rifle and dived out of the vehicle. Behind her, the car exploded in a flash of white magic. The explosion punched the inside of her head, and her skull rang like a gong being struck. Suddenly, everything was quiet.
The world swam.
Move, move, move. To stay in one place was to die. Audrey scrambled away, blindly. Someone caught her and carried her off. Pain bathed her legs. It hurt to breathe. The haze dropped from her eyes. She realized that she sat propped against Kaldar's body, his arm around her. He had grasped an arrow sticking out of her thigh and was pulling it out.
She couldn't feel her legs.
The two boys crouched next to her. Everyone was looking at the door.
A giant man with pale hair stood in the church's doorway. She'd seen him before, peering at them over the blond blueblood's shoulder as the wyvern carried them off. Karmash, she remembered.
The giant stared at them. A dark-haired man crawled over the top edge of the doorway and moved up the wall onto the ceiling like a fly. A woman crossed the threshold. Her long, tattered cloak fluttered about her. Her hood was down, and the exposed skin of her face was a bright, unnatural orange. Her hands held twin narrow swords.
A third man stalked through the church entrance. Or at least he might have been a man at some point. This creature looked more like a beast. Massive, slabbed with heavy muscle, he crouched in the doorway, his huge claws digging into the wood.
The Hand had found them. Kaldar's lips moved, but she heard nothing. George nodded, his pale face smudged with dirt.
On the ceiling, the lizard guy had crawled all the way over and paused, directly above them. His skin turned pale brown, matching the wood beams. Jesus Christ.
Karmash pointed at them.
The freak on the ceiling let go and swung down, hanging as if his feet had suckers.
"Now!" Kaldar barked. She didn't hear him, but she read his lips.
The lizard man's hands glowed. She blinked and realized his fingers held darts, the same kind that had pierced the hood of the Cherokee.
The darts rained on them and dimmed behind a glowing white translucent shield. George's eyes bled white lightning. It spilled from him in long, twisted ribbons and fed the semicircle. Ripples pounded the flash shield. The floor around them shuddered. George clenched his fists.
It's possible to die from expending too much magic, George's voice said from the recesses of her memory.
The darts kept pounding the shield.
George, kind, quiet, calm George. She looked at him and knew he would rather die than stop shielding them.
Her hands were full of something. She was still holding the rifle. She checked the magazine. One shot left.
The lizard freak couldn't shield and hurl the dart at the same time.
"Drop it!" she yelled, hoping her voice held. "Drop the shield!"
Kaldar looked at her. Understanding sparked in his eyes. He yelled something.
George shook his head. Blood spilled out from the corner of his mouth.
Kaldar's voice snapped into a rigid mask. He was biting off words.
George took a deep breath.
This was it. One shot. She made it, or they died.
The shield vanished. Audrey fired.
The lizard man's head exploded in a wet blossom of blood and pale chunks.
The last dart fell straight at her. Small price to pay . . .
Kaldar lunged. His sword slashed in a wide arc, its edge shining bright blue. The two pieces of the dart fell harmlessly on the floor.
Suddenly, sound exploded in Audrey's head, as if someone had the volume turned up all the way and had just pressed the unmute button.
"Mar!" Karmash roared. "Face me!"
Something smashed into him from behind. Karmash flew forward, rolled over, and jumped to his feet.
In the doorway, Gaston landed on the carpet. His black hair spilled over his shoulder like a mane. His eyes flared silver, reflecting the flames. Muscles bulged on his exposed shoulders. He looked demonic, like some prehistoric monster.
Karmash hesitated, unsure.
"The Mar family says hello," Gaston growled.
The giant roared and charged. Gaston leaped, catching Karmash head-on. They collided and rolled down the aisle.
The orange woman slipped out of her cloak. Chain mail covered her body from neck to mid thigh. She dashed toward them, leaping over the overturned broken benches.
"I believe this is my dance." Kaldar flicked his sword and lunged forward, blue magic flaring about him in a flash shield. They collided. Steel rang against steel, and Kaldar and the woman danced across the ruined church like two whirlwinds.
The beast man stared at Karmash and Gaston, locked in battle, then looked at Kaldar and the orange woman. His gaze fastened on her and the kids. A predatory focus claimed his face. Oh shit.
"Run!" Audrey tried to get up, but her legs were still numb. "Run!"
"No." George shook his head. He was bleeding from his nose and his mouth.
Jack just stood there. He looked so young and lost. In shock, Audrey realized.
The beast man charged toward them.
"Run! Save your brother, you idiot!"
George thrust his hands out. Magic pulsed from him. The nearest corpse in the aisle jumped to its feet and clamped onto the beast man, trying to rip him apart. Another corpse joined the first. The third and fourth followed. They clawed at him, gouging the skin, ripping at his hair.
He ripped one dead guard off and hurled him aside. The body flew across the church and crashed against the wall.
"George, I order you to go! Do you hear me! Go!"
George's hands shook with strain.
The second corpse fell into the aisle, torn to pieces. The beast man kept coming.
Twenty yards.
The third corpse fell apart under the savage blows of the massive claws.
Fifteen.
The last body flew, knocked aside. George pulled a dagger from his belt.
The beast man tensed, gathering himself for the final leap.
An inhuman howl ripped from Jack's lips, a terrible mix of anguish, pain, mourning, sorrow, and rage. The scream built on itself, pounding at her, growing louder and louder. The horrible sound clawed at her ears, pierced her chest, and crushed her heart, squeezing pure panic from it. At the far end, Gaston and Karmash paused. Kaldar and the orange woman lowered their blades, their faces shocked.
Magic burst out of Jack. Audrey couldn't see it, but she felt its touch. It burned her for the briefest of moments, but in that instant she stared straight into its wild, savage face, as if the primordial forest full of man-eaters yawned and swallowed her into its black maw studded with cruel fangs. Fear gripped her, and she cried out.
Jack's scream vanished, cut off in mid-note. The thing that used to be Jack, the terrible wild thing, grinned, its fangs bared in maniacal glee. It pulled two daggers from its waist and sliced the beast man. The Hand's agent moved to counter, but he was too slow. The Jack thing carved a chunk of flesh off his side and laughed.
George landed next to her. "It will be okay," he whispered.
"What's happening?"
"Jack is rending. Changelings do this sometimes so they don't become unhinged. It will be okay."
Blood sprayed from the beast man. The thing that was Jack laughed and laughed.
"Just don't move. He won't kill you if you don't move," George said.
In the aisle, Gaston and Karmash ripped into each other, throwing pews around with superhuman strength. Three minutes later, Kaldar sliced the orange woman in half. The top of her slid one way and the bottom the other, but Audrey no longer had any emotion left to spare. Kaldar walked over to them and sat next to her. His arms closed around her. He held her, and together they watched Jack stab the lifeless stump of the beast man's body. He carved it again and again, hurling the bloody chunks of muscle like it was play sand.
The feeling slowly returned to her legs. Kaldar said something about a temporary paralytic agent, but she couldn't concentrate enough to pay attention.
At some point, Gaston joined them. He was bloody and bruised, and his arm stuck out at an odd angle, but the fingers of his left hand had a death grip on the pale hair of Karmash's head. He sat next to them, cradling it like a watermelon. They watched Jack together.
The fire had died down to nothing. The coals turned cold. Ed Yonker had long since gone.
Jack swayed and sat down, his gore-covered arms limp. George stood up, walked over to him on shaking legs, and hugged him. Jack looked at his brother's face, looked back at the ruin of the corpse in front of him, and began to cry.
THEY found a Chevy van in the deserted camp. Kaldar drove. Gaston sat next to him in the passenger seat. Kaldar had forced Gaston's dislocated shoulder back into its socket, and now the boy held Karmash's head with both hands. Audrey cradled Jack. He had stopped crying, but he still looked like death.
They were bloody, bruised, battered. Everyone hurt.
"This is what it's like to fight the Hand," Kaldar said. His voice held no mirth.
The boys didn't say anything.
"Tomorrow, I will buy two tickets," Kaldar said. "We'll put you on a plane in the Broken. You will land in a large airport, then another plane will take you to a smaller airport not too far from where you grew up. You will enter the Edge there, find your grandmother, and wait with her until Declan comes to get you."
"No," George said. His voice creaked like an unoiled door. "We'll finish it."
"Jack?" Kaldar asked.
"We'll finish it," Jack said with quiet savagery.
"Okay," Kaldar said.
"Okay?" Audrey asked. "Okay? Help me out, Kaldar, which part of this is okay? Are we in the same car? Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
"We're all alive and mostly uninjured," Kaldar said.
"We are putting them on that goddamned plane tomorrow."
"We won't go," George said.
Jack reached over and patted her hand.
"Yes, you will. This is no place for children. This is not a kid's fight. We survived today by the skin of our teeth."
"You don't have to be here, either," George said softly.
"Yes, I do. I helped make this mess. I have to fix it."
"We do, too," Jack said. "We help."
"They fought like adults," Kaldar said. "I'm treating them as adults. Adults understand the price and make their own decisions."
Audrey closed her eyes. "You are all insane."
"They are," Gaston said. "I'm good."
"You are holding a decapitated head in your lap!"
"What are you going to do with it?" Kaldar asked.
Gaston shrugged and winced, rubbing his shoulder. "I thought I'd pack it into some preservatives and take it with us."
"Why?" Audrey asked. Dear Jesus, why would he want to keep the head?
"I'm going to send it to my parents as a present. It won't make my mom's leg grow back, but it might make them feel better." Gaston patted Karmash's hair. "He isn't Spider, but he was his top dog."
Kaldar raised his hand, and Gaston high-fived him.
"Thank you for the flash, George," Kaldar said. "That was a hell of a shield."
George smiled through the grime on his face.
"That's right," Gaston said. "That flash was killer. And Jack, you totally kicked ass. Saved all of us, probably."
Jack sat up straighter.
"Yes. Sorry you had to go through that, but the timing couldn't have been better," Kaldar said. "You guys took out two of the Hand's operatives and helped to kill another two, including a veteran underofficer. There are Mirror agents, trained fighting personnel, who'd give their right arms to be you right now. I think there is a price on that head, actually, Gaston."
"That's fine, but I think Dad and Mom would rather have the head."
Audrey covered her face. They were just making things worse now. She had seen more violence tonight than she had ever witnessed in her entire life. Then the rusty scent hit her nostrils, and she realized her hands were bloody and she had just smeared the gore all over her face. She should feel something more. She should be sick and throwing up on the side of the road. Or be in shock and turn into a catatonic vegetable. Instead, she felt nothing. Just dullness and fear. She was so scared. It was over, and she was still scared.
"You will feel better soon, love," Kaldar said, as if reading her thoughts. "I'm so sorry. And I meant to tell you: that was a one-in-a-thousand shot."
She raised her hand. "Don't."
"It was awesome," George confirmed.
"It really was," Jack said. "His head exploded."
Something inside her broke. Tears swelled in her eyes and fell onto her bloody, tattered skirt. She breathed a little easier, as if some of the pressure inside had leaked out of her soul through the tears.
"Chocolate helps," Jack said. "We should get some chocolate for Audrey. And for me."
"We can do that," Kaldar said.
"What was that back there, seven men, Uncle?" Gaston asked.
"Six. The last was a woman."
"How did you do it?" George asked. "Swords don't sever people in half."
"I stretch my flash across my blade," Kaldar said. "Makes the edge magically sharp. You've never seen Cerise do it?"
"No."
"Ask her to show you sometime. She flashes white. She can slice through two-inch steel with one cut."
"We should wash up somewhere," Gaston said. "If we get pulled over, this will be difficult to explain."
"First, we have to visit Magdalene," Kaldar said. "She landed us in this mess."
Yes. Magdalene. That fucking snake. If it weren't for her, they would've walked out of that church, and none of this horror would've happened. "Yes," Audrey squeezed through her teeth. "Let's visit Magdalene."
"We could clean up first," George murmured.
"Oh no. No, we're going just like this," Audrey said. The dullness inside her broke apart and melted into anger. "I want her to see what a double cross really looks like."
WHEN Audrey was angry, doors didn't just unlock, Kaldar discovered. They flew open, and, sometimes, when the blast was hard enough, they fell off their hinges. The effect of a heavy door crashing down like thunder on the marble tile would've startled anyone.
Magdalene jerked. She didn't cringe; she just jerked toward them, like an alarmed cobra, with her hood flaring open.
Gaston hurled Adam at her. They'd found him hiding in one of the side rooms under a desk. The receptionist flew a few feet, slid across the marble, hit the couch, and lay still, pretending to be unconscious.
The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. Magdalene's face seemed to glow, as if shimmering ribbons of light slid under her skin.
"You don't want to do this," she said, her voice quiet but somehow reaching deeply into his mind. Her eyes, luminescent with crystalline aquamarine, peered into him. "Let's all calm down."
Fascinating eyes, Kaldar decided. She was screwing with his mind. He really ought to kill her.
Somewhere far away, Audrey said, "Gaston, give me Adam's gun."
Gunshots barked in unison, one after another, marble shattered, and suddenly the room returned to normal, and Magdalene clutched at her leg. Her hand came away red.
"Next one will go in your stomach," Audrey said.
"You stupid piece of shit," Magdalene spat.
Audrey raised the gun. "One more word, and I will shoot you again, then pistol-whip your face until it looks like hamburger."
"Go ahead! Shoot me, you stupid bitch." Magdalene fell into the nearest chair. "Shoot me!"
Kaldar reached into his jacket and pulled out the Eyes of Karuman. Magdalene's gaze fastened on it.
"George."
The boy walked over to him.
"How do I use this?" Hopefully George would catch on to his bluff, and the next thing out of his mouth wouldn't be, "I already told you that you can't use them because you don't have the right magic."
"It shouldn't be too hard," George said. "Of course, we could accidentally fry her mind."
Magdalene went pale.
Smart kid. "We'll just have to take that risk. Most women, when faced with five angry, blood-smeared people who forced their way into their rooms, would take a moment to consider their position. Obviously, this one is too foolish." Kaldar raised the emitter. "Look into the light, Magdalene."
"Fine." Magdalene slouched in her chair. "What do you want?"
"We had the emitter. Why expose us?"
She sighed. "Because I want Yonker dead. Those merchant pig fuckers actually forbade - forbade! - us to settle it. I can't even put a price on his head because it would be 'bad for business.' I've been wanting to kill him for three years now. And then you morons came along. If you took Yonker's gadget, and he found out, one of two things would happen. Either you killed him or he killed you, in which case the Mirror would come knocking on his door, looking for revenge. Either way, he'd stop breathing in the end, and I'd win. But now you fucked it all up."
"You're an evil woman," George said.
"What do you know of evil, you stupid puppy?" Magdalene turned her gaze on him. "You think this is evil? Give me two weeks with Yonker's toy, and I could make you rape your own mother, and you'd enjoy it."
"Kaldar, if you kill her, please don't shoot her in the head," George said, his face cold, as if carved from a glacier. "Raising a body with a shattered brain requires more magic, and I think we can use her corpse to make sure her relatives will get run out of town."
Now that's interesting. Kaldar studied George. He had had no idea the kid had that kind of calculated cruelty in him. He was willing to bet it wasn't genuine, but it was hellishly convincing.
"You can't do that," she sneered.
"I can," George told her. "That's what I do. Would you like me to stab Adam through the heart and demonstrate?"
"No!" Adam squirmed behind the couch. "Mother!"
Everyone had a lever. Kaldar laughed. "And the little Moonflower opens his big mouth. It's over, Magdalene."
Magdalene's face drooped in defeat.
"The invitation," Kaldar ordered.
"In the black box in the safe," she said.
Audrey handed the gun to Gaston, crossed the room to the steel door, and put her hand against it. Green magic shimmered around her. The locks clicked open.
"I have it," Audrey said.
"What are you going to do now?" Magdalene glared at Kaldar.
"Now we walk away."
"What?"
He shrugged. "What's the point of killing you? I may have to use you again."
She actually shook with rage. "If you ever come here again . . ."
"If I ever do, you will welcome me in a civil manner and do whatever is requested of you," Kaldar let the crisp tones of Adrianglian high society slip into his voice. "You will not warn de Braose. You will not seek revenge. Or the Mirror will replace you with someone more agreeable. I could slit your throat right now, kill your son, bury your bodies in an unmarked grave, and tomorrow a new soothsayer would walk through these doors and take your place. Your people won't care who they work for as long as their bills are paid."
Magdalene stared at him, mute.
"Let me put things in perspective for you: I can level this entire building with a single blast of my flash. I could've simply ordered you to hand the invitation over, but I've chosen to play by the rules out of respect. You broke the rules, Magdalene. You tried to engineer the death of a Mirror agent and a blueblood peer. That's an act of war against Adrianglia. True, we're on the other side of the continent, but we have a long reach. Think about that for a moment."
Magdalene Moonflower turned as white as the marble floor she was standing on.
"Consider it a learning experience. Next time I won't be in the mood to give you a lesson." Kaldar turned and walked out.
They had reached the parking lot before George said, "Kaldar?"
"Mhhm?"
"You're not really a blueblood or a peer of the realm."
"True." He popped open the vehicle's door.
"Also, you can't flash hard enough to level the building," Jack said.
"True again."
"So you lied?" George asked.
"Of course he lied, George," Audrey said.
Kaldar grinned. "But Magdalene doesn't know that, does she? Now pile into the car. Quickly now. We have less than twenty hours to get to Morell de Braose's castle and make ourselves presentable. The rest of the Hand can't be far behind."
The kids and Gaston climbed into the backseat.
"What if she warns de Braose?" George asked.
"And be the laughingstock of the entire western Edge, while risking the Mirror's wrath?" Kaldar shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Just out of curiosity, how are you planning on getting in?" Audrey asked, sliding into the front passenger seat. "To get into the auction, we need three things: an invitation, a pedigree, and money. We have the invitation, and we can fake the money, but you can't just show up and claim to be a blueblood noble. Morell will smell a fake in an instant."
"I've got it covered." Kaldar steered the car out of the parking lot.
She heaved a sigh. "Next you'll be claiming you're a lost heir to a blueblood fortune."
"I don't need to claim anything." He grinned. "I have the two wards of the Marshal of the Southern Provinces in the backseat."
In the rearview mirror, the two boys blinked like two baby owls.
"Do you boys still remember your etiquette lessons?"
George recovered first. "We'll manage."
THERE were times in life when nothing was better than a hot, soapy shower, Audrey reflected, stepping out of the shower onto a soft white towel. After the meeting with Magdalene, it was decided that it was best to take off immediately, and so all of them, bloody and exhausted, piled into the wyvern's cabin. Three hours later, the wyvern touched down in the Edge near the small town of Valley View in southern Oregon. Ling and the nameless cat were released into the night to forage for themselves, the wyvern was watered, and everybody agreed that they desperately needed hot showers and beds.
It was determined that of all of them, Kaldar had somehow ended up being the least bloody, so he cleaned his face, got two suites at the Holiday Inn Express, and snuck the rest of them in through the side entrance. The men took one suite, she took the other.
It was almost eleven in the evening now, and Audrey had finally washed all of the nastiness out of her hair. She couldn't smell the blood anymore, only the cocoa butter from the body wash and lilac from the shampoo. Audrey scrubbed her face with a white towel and examined it. No red. Good. She wrapped one towel around herself, put the other over her wet hair, twisted it, flipped the end over, and came out of the bathroom with a towel turban on her head.
"It's amazing how every woman knows how to do that."
Kaldar sat on the edge of her bed. Well, well. Someone had been hiding lock-picking skills. Or, more likely, he had just asked for an extra keycard for her room and kept one.
The shower had turned his hair nearly black, and it framed his clean face in casual disarray. He hadn't bothered to shave his stubble, and he looked like a rogue, a highwayman who had somehow ended up wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans.
A very sexy highwayman.
In her imagination, Audrey walked over to him. He gave her one of those wicked looks and stole her towel, sliding it off her to the floor. Kaldar ran his clever hands up her hips, over her sides, to her breasts. Audrey leaned back, letting him caress her. It felt so good. He rose and pulled off his T-shirt, baring a muscled torso. She wound her arms around him. He hugged her to him, his arms strong, his skin so hot it was nearly burning. His lips trailed the line of her pulse on her neck. The memory of the day faded from her head. The visions of blood and gore fled.
That would be nice, wouldn't it? Yes, it would. She wanted to forget the ugliness and feel like she was still alive and safe. But then the morning would come, and all of that passion would have to be paid for.
She pointed at the door. "Out!"
"Audrey," he purred.
"Out. I will let you back in when I'm dressed."
He didn't move.
Audrey crossed her arms over her chest. "Kaldar. Agent, pickpocket, rapist . . ."
"Oh, for Gods' sakes, woman." He got up and stalked out the door. She locked the dead bolt, pulled on sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt, and unlocked the door. He was still in the hallway.
"May I come in now?"
"Yes."
He rolled his eyes and went inside. Audrey locked the door.
Kaldar examined her outfit. She wore plain black sweatpants and a T-shirt with a big black cat on it.
"When did you get these?"
She snorted. "I didn't spend all of the money on those two suits. I also bought T-shirts, sweatpants, bras, panties . . ."
"White lacy panties?" he inquired. His voice was like velvet. She could've sworn there was magic in it, not the magic of the Edge or the Weird but some sort of male magic, the kind that made you fall asleep cuddled up with a big smile on your face.
"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
Kaldar looked at the ceiling. "I came to ask you why."
"Mmmm?"
"I want you, Audrey. I want you so badly, you are my first thought in the morning and my last at night."
Oh, he is smooth.
Kaldar moved around her, maintaining the distance, stalking. He moved like a sword fighter: strong, sure, but graceful. Funny how she had never noticed it before.
"You kiss me like you want me, too. You thought about it. You pictured us together, making love."
She smiled at him. Kaldar, you slick bandit, you.
"We're both adults, we want each other, and there is nothing stopping us. Why aren't we together?"
Audrey kept her smile firmly in place.
Kaldar paused. He was looking at her, at once loving, admiring, possessive, and yearning. She'd been hit with a few come-hither stares in her time, but this one left them all in the dust.
"Do you think I'd hurt you, Audrey? Are you afraid it won't be good, and you won't like it, because I promise you, you will."
Kaldar, a man of low self-esteem, unassuming and humble.
"Help me out," he said.
"I don't think we should talk about this. I think you should go back to your room."
"Why?"
"Because it will make things between us tense and difficult."
"Things between us are already tense and difficult." Kaldar planted himself between the bed and the door. "I'm not leaving."
"You really want an answer?" Nothing good would come of it.
"Yes," Kaldar said. "I do."
"Okay. When I was little, my grandmother gave me this advice. She said, 'Audrey, if you meet a man who is smooth, who says all the right things and knows all the tricks to make a woman happy, you've got to ask yourself how he got that way.'"
"I don't understand," Kaldar said.
"How old are you?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Audrey put her hands on her hips. "You wanted this conversation, silver-tongue."
"Thirty-two."
"You have nine years on me, Kaldar. I bet most of your friends are married. They're probably family men. Some of them have kids, others are thinking about it. Many probably bought their first houses a few years back. Why aren't you married, Kaldar?"
He gave her an odd one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe I was waiting for the right girl."
"Please." For some reason, she felt like crying, which was completely stupid. "With your looks and your skills, I bet you've met plenty of girls. The right girl came and went, Kaldar. Probably more than once."
"I'm confused. So you want us to be married, is that it?"
She actually had to fight the tears back. It took all of her skill to keep her expression pleasant. At least she hoped it was. "Don't be silly. I can't marry you. I don't even know you. You change faces the way most people wear socks, every day a new pair. A charming rogue, an arrogant businessman, a caring uncle, a slick thief . . . You pull them off and on at will. I don't even know if I've glimpsed the real you in this masquerade. Ask me what the real Kaldar is like. What does he want, what does he need, what sort of man is he, and I can't tell you. Do you even know which one of these roles is the real you?"
He remained silent.
"Before I take a man into my bed, I need to know him. I want to trust him and like him. You are the sexiest man I've ever met. Without a doubt. The best pickpocket. The best swordsman. And you're a genius conman. You'd run circles around the best grifters I know. My father would have no chance. You'd get him to sign over his house for a snowball in January."
"So that's it," he said quietly. "You think I'm conning you, Audrey?"
"No. I know you are conning me." Audrey shrugged. "Kaldar, you stole my cross. You treated me like a mark. You have no respect for me."
"I stole it because I am obsessed with you." Emotion vibrated in his voice. "I wanted something of yours because that was all I could get."
"I'm sure." Audrey sighed. "You're not the first grifter who tried to charm my panties off. I've seen all the tricks, I've heard all of the sweet words. I grew up with a father who was really good at manipulating women. I've seen my dad's friends 'handle' their wives. It's not that we wouldn't have fun, Kaldar. We would. And before today, I probably would have taken you up on your offer. But we almost died today. It made me realize that I deserve some happiness. And now I don't want just fun."
"What do you want, then?"
"I want honesty and loyalty, and I want to give loyalty and love in return. For once in my life, I want to be able to trust someone without having to double-check, and keep an eye on him, and worry if he's lying to me. I still want to have fun, but I want to be loved, Kaldar. Really loved. Life is too short, and I want to experience that before I die. I don't think that's the kind of fun you had in mind when you walked in here. And there is nothing wrong with that. We just want different things, and if we get together, it will be a disaster."
"You're a mind reader now?"
He actually sounded angry. He is angry. Really? Fine. I can be angry, too.
"Sure. I'll read your mind. It's not that difficult. All of your thoughts about me and all of your fantasies end with you between my legs and me crying out and having the best orgasm of my life, then telling you about it. You've never thought past that point, but if you had, in your head the next morning we would get up like nothing had ever happened. It wouldn't be awkward. Nothing would've changed. We'd go on with our scheme, have a lot of great sex, and if we somehow survived, when it came time to part, you'd give me a pat on the ass, and I would stand there, sad and watching you as you fly away on your wyvern to greater adventures and other women. Out of sight, out of mind. If you ever happened to be in this part of the country, you'd look me up for a quickie because you'd know that your superloving has forever spoiled me, and no other man would ever be good enough to replace you. And twenty years from now, you would still be in the exact same place you are now, having the time of your life, grifting for the glory of Adrianglia and for your vengeance, while I waited patiently for a chance to see you. No, thank you."
Kaldar stared at her. He had no expression on his face.
She leaned forward, rocking on her toes to stand a little closer to his face. "You will break my heart, Kaldar. We both know it. And now, since we have everything out in the open, how about we forget we had this conversation? You go back to your room, and tomorrow, we'll flirt and laugh and act like nothing happened."
He just stood there.
"Fine. You want it the other way, we can do that, too. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that's not what you've imagined, and, for once in your life, don't lie."
Kaldar leaned forward, his eyes dark. "I imagined that you might want to have a little bit of fun before you went back to wasting your life. You have the brains, the talent, and the looks, and you use all that to take dirty pictures of adulterers and flirt with insurance cheats. Is that really it, Audrey? Is that who you aspire to be?"
She recoiled.
"You're right," Kaldar said. "When it's over, I will fly off on a wyvern, and you will go back to your dull existence, suppressing everything that makes you you. I may not be married or trustworthy, but what I do matters, and I'm good at it."
"What I do matters, too!"
"To whom? Anyone can do your job, Audrey. Of course, you are the best at it. You have so much talent and experience, you have no competition. You're playing with marked cards at a table full of blind players. Is that it? Are you afraid of competition? Afraid to try to see how good you really are? Because I've never seen better."
"You can leave now."
"Oh, I'm going. Don't worry. Think about what I said, Audrey. You were born to steal, to grift, and to outwit people who need to be stopped. But you insist on withering your soul instead. You say you want honesty. Try being honest with yourself. Why did you break into the Pyramid of Ptah? Why, when I came to you with this possibly fatal proposition to fight the Hand and the Edge barons, did it take you less than ten minutes to take me up on it?"
He turned and walked out of the room.
The door clicked closed.
Audrey flung herself on the bed. It had to be said. Of course it had to be said. If anything, it was a wonder both of them had stayed in the room as long as they had. Most conmen ran when called on it, and neither she nor Kaldar were an exception to that rule. Audrey stared at the door. She wanted it to burst open. She wanted him to charge into the room, grab her, kiss her, and tell her he loved her. It was such a stupid little-girl fantasy, and yet she sat there, desperate, and stared at the door.
She was right. Everything she had said was perfectly valid. Everything he had said was perfectly valid, too. She had known the safest thing would have been to walk away from this adventure the first chance she got. And when she had climbed the mountain slope to Gnome's house, hyper-aware of Kaldar behind her, that possibility had entered her head. But she had stayed. She had stayed because it was right, she had stayed because every twist and every challenge sent the excitement of anticipation through her. She had stayed because she cared what would happen to Gaston, Jack, and George. And she had stayed because being near Kaldar made her dream.
Audrey didn't know what she would do when it was all over. She couldn't go back to the Broken. In a twisted way, all her fears had come true: Kaldar had destroyed her life, and up until tonight, she had blissfully helped him dismantle it brick by brick.
Half an hour later, she knew he wouldn't be coming. She cried quietly until she was too exhausted to sob. Then she washed her face with cold water to keep it from being puffy and red in the morning, turned off the lights, and climbed into her bed.
The night shadows claimed the room. She usually welcomed darkness, but tonight it felt sinister. She lay for a long minute, torn between the fear of darkness and the irrational worry that if she stepped down to turn on the lights, something would grab her ankle.
This was ridiculous.
She got out of bed, turned on the lights, went to the next suite, and knocked on the door. The door swung open, and Gaston grinned at her.
"Can I borrow a knife?"
"A peel-an-apple knife or a serious knife?"
"A serious knife."
He stepped into the room and handed her a long wavy dagger with a silvery blade. "Is anything wrong?"
"No." I'm just afraid to go to sleep by myself. "I just realized that I have no weapon."
Understanding sparked in his eyes. "Have you seen my uncle? I thought he was with you."
"He came by but left a while ago. Thank you for the dagger."
"No problem."
She went back into her room, locked the door, put the dagger on the night table next to the bed, turned off the lights, and lay down. If any of the Hand's freaks decided to hide under her bed, she would turn it into mincemeat.
KALDAR leaned on the rail of a long balcony wrapping the third floor of the hotel. Below him, a landscaped courtyard tried to tempt him with a small pool. Mmm. A swim wouldn't be unwelcome right about now. A paved walkway wound around it and stretched on toward some small river winding its way between green shores. A full moon hung above all of it, like a pale coin in the dark sky. In the moonlight, the river's water glistened like volcanic glass.
Regret filled him, and when he looked at the moon's face, it seemed mournful to him.
He had blown it with Audrey. He said things he should've kept to himself if he entertained any hope of ever being with her. What he had said was the truth, but it would change nothing. When they were done, she would return to her life in the Broken and persist in slowly wasting away. He truly had never seen anyone better, and it brought him nearly physical pain to think she would waste it all. He sighed, hoping to exhale his frustration into the night.
Careful footsteps came from the stairwell. A moment, and Gaston leaned on the rail next to him. "Here you are, Uncle. I was worried."
"I'm touched," Kaldar replied out of habit, but his voice sounded devoid of mirth even to him.
Gaston's eyes caught the moonlight and reflected it in bright silver. He gathered himself, his gaze fixed on the pale disk as if wanting to reach for it. The thoas always had a thing for the moon.
"Does it speak to you?" Kaldar asked.
"No. But there is something about it. It's this beautiful thing you can never reach. No matter what you do, you'll never touch it. You can only look and imagine what it would be like to hold it." Gaston turned and looked at him. "Something's bothering you, Uncle."
"How old was your father when he had you? Twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-nine."
"And you're the youngest of the three."
Gaston nodded.
"I've been thinking," Kaldar said. "Before the Hand decimated the family, we had seven men within five years of my age. None of them were unmarried."
Gaston frowned at the moon. "No, except for Richard."
Yes, Richard. Bringing up his older brother's marriage was like worrying an old scab - it had healed over, but it still hurt. Richard's wife had left him, as their mother had left their father a decade before. Richard had never recovered. Come to think of it, neither had he.
Kaldar had arranged that marriage. He'd arranged most marriages within the family. Love was one thing. Getting two swamp clans to settle on the dowry and terms was another. At the time, he had no misgivings. Richard and Meline seemed perfect for each other. Both serious, both focused. In retrospect, they had been too alike.
"It's Memaw's fault," Gaston said. "She nags everyone into marriage. I remember my older brother complaining. The moment he turned twenty, she started after him with the guilt. 'Oh, I will die soon and won't get to see you have the little ones. If only you'd find yourself a nice girl, I could go to the funeral pyre happy.' She's like an ere-vaurg - once she gets her teeth into you, she won't let go until you give up."
"She never brought it up with me."
"Strange. You always had the prettiest girls." Gaston grinned. "Maybe she was scared, Uncle. If we had Kaldar number two and Kaldar number three around, nothing would stay put. You'd set something down and whoosh, it would be gone, and nobody would know what had happened to it."
Kaldar looked at the river. He had to give Audrey that one. Nobody had ever expected him to settle down. Not even his own family. He didn't inspire the family-man kind of confidence.
Thinking back, he remembered faces and names, men he used to know in the Mire. Men who were his friends. One by one, he'd stop seeing them around, and a year or two later, he'd find out they were married. They'd run into each other, they'd introduce their wives and watch him with more diligence than needed. He could imagine the conversation around the dinner table. Wives had little use for him - he was liable to get their husbands into trouble, and his former friends weren't too keen on letting him talk to their women too much.
Marriage was a trap. The moment the man said the words "I do" at the altar, he surrendered his freedom. He was no longer free to pursue other women. Staying out past the appointed hour required his wife's permission. Getting drunk with his friends resulted in a fight when he got home. He'd have to report where he went, when he would be back, who he would be with, and why he would choose to do something else rather than stay home and pick out fabric for new drapes. A married man was no longer carefree. He was a provider, a husband, and a father. His castle was no longer his. He was permitted to live there on someone else's terms. He already had Nancy Virai telling him where to go and what to do there. That was as much supervision as he cared to accept.
"Is Audrey doing okay?" Gaston asked.
"She's fine."
"Oh good. She came by asking for a knife. I think she's scared to sleep by herself."
"It's a harder thing for her than it is for us," Kaldar said. "George deals with death every day. He's come to terms with it. Jack has killed things in the woods since he could walk. He has a simple way of looking at it. You and I are from the Mire. Audrey has had very little experience with brutality. It wasn't a part of her life." And the last time she experienced it, it scarred her. She didn't seem like she was falling apart, but Audrey was an excellent actress.
Genius conman. Yes, there was the pot calling the kettle black.
There were nights when he was afraid to go to sleep by himself as well. He'd planned on making it easier on both of them tonight, but even the best of plans occasionally came crashing down.
"She's funny," Gaston said.
Kaldar looked at him.
"And pretty. And she doesn't buy any of the bullshit you're selling."
"I think it's time for you to go to bed."
Gaston grinned, his eyes shining. "Whatever you say, Uncle."
He started toward the stairway and turned, walking backward. "If you had a kid, would he be my cousin once or twice removed?"
"Keep walking."
Gaston laughed. A moment later, a quick staccato of footsteps announced his going down the stairs.
Kaldar looked back to the moon. It stared back at him, beautiful and indifferent. The moon was the same everywhere, here over some small river in the Broken or back in the Mire, hanging over the dark cypresses, serenaded by ere-vaurgs. He used to look at it like this from the balcony of the old Mar house. Thanks to the Hand, the family home lay abandoned now. None of them could ever return to it.
He missed the Mire but less than he'd expected. The family had built a new house on the edge of the Red Swamps in Adrianglia. The Red Swamps differed from the Mire, but it felt like home. He'd built his own house too, not too far from the family's, on the edge of a quiet river. It wasn't grand - the Mirror's pay wouldn't buy him a palace, and since the builder had wanted cash, the purchase had wiped out his accounts - but it was large and comfortable, and in the late afternoon, when the sun shone through the living-room windows, the polished floor and wooden walls seemed to glow.
He hadn't gotten around to putting furniture in it, except for a rocking chair on the porch. But he did own a house. At least that part she was wrong about.
Kaldar closed his eyes and pictured a woman in his kitchen. She laughed, turned, and he realized she was Audrey.
He couldn't have Audrey. He'd have to think up a different fantasy.
Audrey smiled at him from his kitchen.
They were perfectly in tune. Birds of a feather. She understood him. Oh yes, she understood him too well. She knew exactly how things would play out between them, and she had decided against it. And she was right. One hundred percent right. He was a scoundrel, and he would use her. Both of them would have the time of their lives while they did. But in the end, he wouldn't be caught, and she refused to try.
It was said that there was honor among thieves; there wasn't. But there was honor between him and Audrey. Well, aside from the theft of the cross, which she had taken rather badly. She could've led him on, she could've seduced him into her bed - not that it would have taken much. He'd climb a mountain to taste her again, and then, when he was comfortable and happy, she could've tried to trap him with guilt. Most men got married because they were comfortable where they were, and breaking free was too hard and too unpleasant. She didn't go that route. No, she told him up front that he wasn't good enough for her.
And why exactly was that? He was good at what he did. The best thief, she'd said. The best swordsman, the sexiest man she'd ever met. The genius conman. Genius. She told him he was better than her father, for crying out loud. It wasn't often a woman said something like that.
It wasn't like he couldn't provide for her. Not that he ever intended to marry, but if he did, his wife wouldn't want for anything. He was a Mar, after all. Mars took care of their families.
Besides, if he ever did bring Audrey to his house, she wouldn't stay home and bake pies. She would insist on going with him. Now that would be an unbeatable pairing. The things they could accomplish together . . . It was almost too tempting to contemplate. Not only did Audrey understand his schemes, but she could change direction on the fly. She had no trouble improvising under pressure, and say what you wanted about her aversion to violence, when push came to shove, she'd blow an enemy's brains out. In their world, there would be no unlocked doors. It would be so much fun.
Kaldar pushed himself back from the rail. Unfortunately, their cooperation would end after they retrieved the diffuser bracelets. That was, after all, the goal of the whole exercise. Where would she go after this was over? Her old job and identity in the Broken were burned. She'd have to start fresh. And do it quietly, too. If they pulled this off, Helena d'Amry would make it her mission in life to hunt them down . . .
Kaldar froze.
His mind painted an image of Audrey, funny, beautiful Audrey, dead, hanging off a tree limb. Or worse, sliced to pieces. Or skinned alive. The anxiety punched him right in the gut with an icy fist. The Hand would kill Audrey. They would murder her. She was hellishly smart and slick, but the Hand simply had too many resources, and Audrey knew next to nothing about them.
Kaldar paced along the balcony. She would die. No more bright smiles. No more laughter. No more sly winks and wide-open eyes.
He lived in a bitter cold place, a deep darkness where he plotted revenge on the Hand for all their wrongs, past and future. Audrey was like a ray of sunshine in the middle of his night. She had lifted him out of the dark hole he had dug for himself into a place where he laughed, and his mirth and humor were genuine as long as she stayed around.
The Hand would crush that light.
He could live in a world where Audrey existed, even if it was far away from him. He was never fond of the idea of suffering nobly; still, he could resign himself to living without her if he knew that she was happy somewhere. The Hand would not take her from him. They had taken two-thirds of his family, they had killed Murid, and he would be damned if he let them butcher Audrey while he cowered in the shadows like a frightened dog with his tail between his legs.
He loved Audrey. The realization came to him, plain and simple. He would give anything to keep her safe. The only way to do that would be to know where she was at all times. If he had to marry her to keep her safe, he would marry her. He would be respectful and responsible and all the other things that turned his stomach. If he knew she would wake up next to him, safe and happy, it would be worth it.
Kaldar stopped pacing. It was decided, then. He would marry Audrey.
He just had to convince her to see things from his point of view.
THE church sat abandoned, its doors flung wide open. Helena marched through them, the rest of her team moving quietly behind her, afraid to make a sound. Inside, overturned benches and shattered wood greeted her. The sickening, cloying stench of decomposition hit her nostrils. A stage and a pulpit at the far end of the structure still smoked weakly, their wood charred to blackness. A twisted thing of jagged metal and melted rubber lay on its side on the right - one of the Broken's vehicles, destroyed beyond recognition. The acrid, bitter reek of Cotier's explosive darts emanated from it, and from another spot, farther to the left.
Her eyes picked out a dart lying on the floor. Another. Another. At least a dozen darts lay in a circle around a wet spot on the floor. A single dart packed enough charge to explode an average-size carriage.
Helena's gaze slid up. Cotier's body hung from the rafters, upside down. A large hole gaped in the crown of his head. A matching smaller hole pierced the back of his head near the neck. He must've seen the shot coming and curled up to avoid it. The bullet caught him in the back of the skull, scrambled his brain, and exploded out of his forehead. In the next hours, the brain matter and blood had dripped out of him onto the floor.
Helena looked down on the floor. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen darts. Any physical barrier would've been demolished. Only magic could withstand an assault of such magnitude. Someone in Kaldar Mar's party could create a blisteringly potent flash shield.
Helena turned. A leg with telltale orange skin stuck out from behind a clump of benches. She approached. An orange body lay in two pieces, cleanly severed at a diagonal and peppered with dead flies, poisoned by the Mura's toxic blood. The sword stroke - if that's what this was - cleaved her from left shoulder, through the ribs, through the heart, through the stomach, and through the right side of her ribs. The cut was perfectly clean, the severed bones flat. Karmash had mentioned that the Mars possessed an ancient art of sword fighting, but this was beyond her experience. Swords didn't do this.
Behind her, a foot scraped on the ground. She turned. Sebastian bowed his head. "You should see this, my lady."
She followed him to a break between the benches. A shapeless mass of flesh sat in the stretch of open floor, hidden from her view by the demolished vehicle. It resembled a pile of meat that had been shredded and dumped in a heap. Emily, her tracker, knelt by it, sampling the air.
"What is this?"
"I believe it's Soma, my lady." Sebastian bowed his head.
"Did they put him through a meat grinder?"
"This was done by one person," Emily said. "A boy."
Helena knelt by her. "What makes you think this?"
"Only one scent with the body. Young scent. Male. And also this." Emily pointed at the floor. Two bloody shoe prints clearly visible. Sebastian put his foot next to them. The shoe print was an inch and a half shorter than his foot.
Helena rose and saw a giant headless body slumped against the far wall. A wrought-iron inch-wide beam protruded from his chest. It took her a moment to recognize it as one of the church's candelabras.
Her magic whipped around her in a furious frenzy. Sebastian and Emily backed away. Helena whirled, her cloak flaring around her, and strode out of the church.
Sebastian trailed her.
"One man, a woman, and a boy against four operatives." Helena bit off words with diamond-cut precision. "Why are they still alive? Why don't I have Kaldar's head?"
"I don't know, my lady."
Four operatives. Each a veteran, each an expert in death. Taken out by an Edge rat. Shame gripped her. When Spider had spoken of the Mars, his face was ice, and his eyes boiled with fury. Now she understood why.
A vehicle climbed up the narrow road and entered the camp.
Sebastian growled under his breath.
The doors opened. Three men stepped out, two older, one young and bruised, followed by an older blond woman.
The larger of the older men clamped his hand on the younger male and half led, half dragged, him forward.
The blond woman and the smaller of the older men walked up to them. The man spoke. "We represent the local Edge families."
"I'm Helena d'Amry."
"You are the Hand," the woman said.
"Yes." Helena didn't feel the need to correct her. The Edgers knew the Hand and feared it.
"You are looking for a man and a red-haired woman," the woman said.
"Yes."
"We don't like problems," the smaller of the older men said. "We want the violence to end. There has been too much upheaval lately. Things must go back to normal."
Ah. "Help me, and I swear on the throne of Gaul, I will leave in peace."
The larger of the men pulled the younger closer. "This is Adam. He will tell you everything you want to know."