Queen of Air and Darkness
Page 75
“Fight back,” Jace said urgently. “If they open your cell, fight back—”
Cortana, Emma thought in desperation. Cortana!
But nothing happened. There was no sudden and comforting weight in her hand. Only a pressure against her shoulder; Julian had moved to stand next to her. Weaponless, they faced the front of their cell. There was the sound of a gasp, then running feet—Emma raised her fists—
The smaller of the guards reached their cell and grabbed at one of the vines, then yelped in pain. A voice murmured something in a faerie language, and the torches along the walls burst into dim flame. Emma found herself staring through the tangle of vines and thorns at Cristina, wearing the livery of a faerie guard, a longsword strapped across her back.
“Emma?” Cristina breathed, her eyes wide. “What on earth are you doing here?”
* * *
Watch over Tiberius.
Kit was doing just that. Or at least he was staring at Ty, which seemed close enough. They were on the beach below the Institute; Ty had taken off his socks and shoes and was walking at the edge of the water. He glanced up at Kit, who was sitting on a rise of sand, and beckoned him closer. “The water isn’t that cold!” he called. “I promise.”
I believe you, Kit wanted to say. He always believed Ty. Ty wasn’t a liar unless he had to be, though he was good at hiding things. He wondered what would happen if Helen asked them both straight-out if they were trying to raise Livvy from the dead.
Maybe he would be the one who told the truth. After all, he was the one who didn’t really want to do it.
Kit rose slowly to his feet and walked down the beach to join Ty. The waves were breaking at least twenty feet out; by the time they reached the shoreline they were white foam and silver water. A surge splashed up and over Ty’s bare feet and soaked Kit’s sneakers.
Ty had been right. It wasn’t all that cold.
“So tomorrow we’ll go to the Shadow Market,” said Ty. The moonlight played delicate shadows over his face. He seemed calm, Kit thought, and realized that it had been a long time since he hadn’t felt like Ty was a tightly strung wire, thrumming by his side.
“You hated the Shadow Market in London,” Kit said. “It really bothered you. The noises, and the crowd—”
Ty’s gaze flicked down to Kit. “I’ll wear my headphones. I’ll be all right.”
“. . . and I don’t know if we should go again so soon,” Kit added. “What if Helen and Aline get suspicious?”
Ty’s gray gaze darkened. “Julian told me once,” he said, “that when people keep coming up with reasons not to do something, it’s because they don’t want to do it. Do you not want to do this? The spell, everything?”
Ty’s voice sounded tight. The thrumming wire again, sharp with tension. Under the cotton of his shirt, his thin shoulders had tightened as well. The neck of his shirt was loose, the delicate line of his collarbones just visible.
Kit felt a rush of tenderness toward Ty, mixed with near panic. In other circumstances, he thought, he would just have lied. But he couldn’t lie to Ty.
He splashed farther into the water, until his jeans were wet to below his knees. He turned around, the foam of the surf splashing around him. “Didn’t you hear what Shade said? The Livvy we get back might not be anything like our Livvy. Your Livvy.”
Ty followed him out into the water. Mist was coming down to touch the water, surrounding them in white and gray. “If we do the spell correctly, she will be. That’s all. We have to do it right.”
Kit could taste salt on his mouth. “I don’t know . . .”
Ty reached out a hand, sweeping his arm toward the horizon, where the stars were beginning to fade into the mist. The horizon was a black line smudged with silver. “Livvy is out there,” he said. “Just past where I can reach her, but I can hear her. She says my name. She wants me to bring her back. She needs me to bring her back.” The corner of Ty’s mouth trembled. “I don’t want to do it without you. But I will.”
Kit took another step into the ocean and paused. The deeper he went, the colder it got. And wasn’t that the case with everything, he thought. There are many ways to be endangered by magic.
I could walk away, he said to himself. I could let Ty do this on his own. But I can’t tell myself that it wouldn’t be the end of our friendship, because it would. I’d end up locked out of Ty’s plans, just like Helen, just like Dru. Just like everyone else.
It felt like the air was being choked out of his lungs. He spun back toward Ty. “Okay. I’ll do it. We can go to the Shadow Market tomorrow.”
Ty smiled. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that a smile broke across his face, like the sun rising. Kit stood breathless, the water receding around him, as Ty came up and put his arms around Kit’s neck.
He remembered holding Ty on the roof of the Institute in London, but that had been because Ty was panicking. It had been like holding a wild animal. This was Ty hugging him because he wanted to. The soft cotton of Ty’s shirt, the feeling of Ty’s hair brushing against his cheek as he hid his expression from Ty by burrowing his face against the other boy’s shoulder. He could hear Ty breathing. He threaded his arms around Ty, crossing his cold hands over Ty’s back. When Ty leaned into him with a sigh, he felt like he’d won a race he didn’t know he was running.
“Don’t worry,” Ty said quietly. “We’re going to get her back. I promise.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. But Kit said nothing aloud. He held on to Ty, sick with a miserable happiness, and closed his eyes against the prying light of the moon.
* * *
“We are here to help you,” said Cristina’s companion. Emma recognized him, belatedly: Prince Adaon, one of the Unseelie King’s sons. She had seen him the last time she was in Faerie. He was a tall faerie knight in the colors of Unseelie, handsome and dark-skinned, two daggers at his waist. He reached out to grasp the vines of their cell, which parted under his touch. Emma wriggled out through them and flung her arms around Cristina.
“Cristina,” she said. “You beautiful badass, you.”
Cristina smiled and patted Emma’s back while Adaon freed Julian and then Jace and Clary. Jace was the last to slip through the vines. He raised an eyebrow at Julian.
“What were you saying about wishing to be rescued?” he said.
“We cannot stay here long,” said Adaon. “There will come others, guards and knights alike.” He glanced up and down the row of cells, frowning. “Where are they?”
“Where are who?” said Emma, letting go of Cristina reluctantly.
“Mark and Kieran,” said Cristina. “Where are Mark and Kieran?”
“I came here to rescue my brother, not empty the palace’s prisons of criminals,” said Adaon, who Emma was beginning to think might not be the world’s most jolly person.
“We’re very appreciative of your efforts,” said Clary. She had noticed Emma was shivering with cold. She took off her denim jacket and handed it to Emma with a gentle pat on her shoulder.
Emma slipped the jacket on, too cold and tired and hurt to protest. “But—why would Mark and Kieran be here? Why are you here, Cristina?”
Adaon had begun to stride up and down the line of cells, peering into each one. Cristina looked around nervously. “Mark, Kieran, and I heard that Dearborn sent you on a suicide mission,” she said to Emma and Julian. “We came to help you.”
“But Mark isn’t with you?” said Julian, who had snapped to attention at the sound of his brother’s name. “Did you get separated here? Inside the tower?”
“No. They were kidnapped on the road, by the worst of my brothers,” said Adaon, who had returned from his search of the cells. “Cristina came to me for help. I knew Oban would have brought Mark and Kieran here, but I thought they would be in the prison.” His mouth set in grim lines. “Oban was always overeager. He must have taken them straight to my father instead.”
“You mean to the throne room?” said Emma, slightly dizzy with the suddenness with which things were happening.
Cortana, Emma thought in desperation. Cortana!
But nothing happened. There was no sudden and comforting weight in her hand. Only a pressure against her shoulder; Julian had moved to stand next to her. Weaponless, they faced the front of their cell. There was the sound of a gasp, then running feet—Emma raised her fists—
The smaller of the guards reached their cell and grabbed at one of the vines, then yelped in pain. A voice murmured something in a faerie language, and the torches along the walls burst into dim flame. Emma found herself staring through the tangle of vines and thorns at Cristina, wearing the livery of a faerie guard, a longsword strapped across her back.
“Emma?” Cristina breathed, her eyes wide. “What on earth are you doing here?”
* * *
Watch over Tiberius.
Kit was doing just that. Or at least he was staring at Ty, which seemed close enough. They were on the beach below the Institute; Ty had taken off his socks and shoes and was walking at the edge of the water. He glanced up at Kit, who was sitting on a rise of sand, and beckoned him closer. “The water isn’t that cold!” he called. “I promise.”
I believe you, Kit wanted to say. He always believed Ty. Ty wasn’t a liar unless he had to be, though he was good at hiding things. He wondered what would happen if Helen asked them both straight-out if they were trying to raise Livvy from the dead.
Maybe he would be the one who told the truth. After all, he was the one who didn’t really want to do it.
Kit rose slowly to his feet and walked down the beach to join Ty. The waves were breaking at least twenty feet out; by the time they reached the shoreline they were white foam and silver water. A surge splashed up and over Ty’s bare feet and soaked Kit’s sneakers.
Ty had been right. It wasn’t all that cold.
“So tomorrow we’ll go to the Shadow Market,” said Ty. The moonlight played delicate shadows over his face. He seemed calm, Kit thought, and realized that it had been a long time since he hadn’t felt like Ty was a tightly strung wire, thrumming by his side.
“You hated the Shadow Market in London,” Kit said. “It really bothered you. The noises, and the crowd—”
Ty’s gaze flicked down to Kit. “I’ll wear my headphones. I’ll be all right.”
“. . . and I don’t know if we should go again so soon,” Kit added. “What if Helen and Aline get suspicious?”
Ty’s gray gaze darkened. “Julian told me once,” he said, “that when people keep coming up with reasons not to do something, it’s because they don’t want to do it. Do you not want to do this? The spell, everything?”
Ty’s voice sounded tight. The thrumming wire again, sharp with tension. Under the cotton of his shirt, his thin shoulders had tightened as well. The neck of his shirt was loose, the delicate line of his collarbones just visible.
Kit felt a rush of tenderness toward Ty, mixed with near panic. In other circumstances, he thought, he would just have lied. But he couldn’t lie to Ty.
He splashed farther into the water, until his jeans were wet to below his knees. He turned around, the foam of the surf splashing around him. “Didn’t you hear what Shade said? The Livvy we get back might not be anything like our Livvy. Your Livvy.”
Ty followed him out into the water. Mist was coming down to touch the water, surrounding them in white and gray. “If we do the spell correctly, she will be. That’s all. We have to do it right.”
Kit could taste salt on his mouth. “I don’t know . . .”
Ty reached out a hand, sweeping his arm toward the horizon, where the stars were beginning to fade into the mist. The horizon was a black line smudged with silver. “Livvy is out there,” he said. “Just past where I can reach her, but I can hear her. She says my name. She wants me to bring her back. She needs me to bring her back.” The corner of Ty’s mouth trembled. “I don’t want to do it without you. But I will.”
Kit took another step into the ocean and paused. The deeper he went, the colder it got. And wasn’t that the case with everything, he thought. There are many ways to be endangered by magic.
I could walk away, he said to himself. I could let Ty do this on his own. But I can’t tell myself that it wouldn’t be the end of our friendship, because it would. I’d end up locked out of Ty’s plans, just like Helen, just like Dru. Just like everyone else.
It felt like the air was being choked out of his lungs. He spun back toward Ty. “Okay. I’ll do it. We can go to the Shadow Market tomorrow.”
Ty smiled. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that a smile broke across his face, like the sun rising. Kit stood breathless, the water receding around him, as Ty came up and put his arms around Kit’s neck.
He remembered holding Ty on the roof of the Institute in London, but that had been because Ty was panicking. It had been like holding a wild animal. This was Ty hugging him because he wanted to. The soft cotton of Ty’s shirt, the feeling of Ty’s hair brushing against his cheek as he hid his expression from Ty by burrowing his face against the other boy’s shoulder. He could hear Ty breathing. He threaded his arms around Ty, crossing his cold hands over Ty’s back. When Ty leaned into him with a sigh, he felt like he’d won a race he didn’t know he was running.
“Don’t worry,” Ty said quietly. “We’re going to get her back. I promise.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. But Kit said nothing aloud. He held on to Ty, sick with a miserable happiness, and closed his eyes against the prying light of the moon.
* * *
“We are here to help you,” said Cristina’s companion. Emma recognized him, belatedly: Prince Adaon, one of the Unseelie King’s sons. She had seen him the last time she was in Faerie. He was a tall faerie knight in the colors of Unseelie, handsome and dark-skinned, two daggers at his waist. He reached out to grasp the vines of their cell, which parted under his touch. Emma wriggled out through them and flung her arms around Cristina.
“Cristina,” she said. “You beautiful badass, you.”
Cristina smiled and patted Emma’s back while Adaon freed Julian and then Jace and Clary. Jace was the last to slip through the vines. He raised an eyebrow at Julian.
“What were you saying about wishing to be rescued?” he said.
“We cannot stay here long,” said Adaon. “There will come others, guards and knights alike.” He glanced up and down the row of cells, frowning. “Where are they?”
“Where are who?” said Emma, letting go of Cristina reluctantly.
“Mark and Kieran,” said Cristina. “Where are Mark and Kieran?”
“I came here to rescue my brother, not empty the palace’s prisons of criminals,” said Adaon, who Emma was beginning to think might not be the world’s most jolly person.
“We’re very appreciative of your efforts,” said Clary. She had noticed Emma was shivering with cold. She took off her denim jacket and handed it to Emma with a gentle pat on her shoulder.
Emma slipped the jacket on, too cold and tired and hurt to protest. “But—why would Mark and Kieran be here? Why are you here, Cristina?”
Adaon had begun to stride up and down the line of cells, peering into each one. Cristina looked around nervously. “Mark, Kieran, and I heard that Dearborn sent you on a suicide mission,” she said to Emma and Julian. “We came to help you.”
“But Mark isn’t with you?” said Julian, who had snapped to attention at the sound of his brother’s name. “Did you get separated here? Inside the tower?”
“No. They were kidnapped on the road, by the worst of my brothers,” said Adaon, who had returned from his search of the cells. “Cristina came to me for help. I knew Oban would have brought Mark and Kieran here, but I thought they would be in the prison.” His mouth set in grim lines. “Oban was always overeager. He must have taken them straight to my father instead.”
“You mean to the throne room?” said Emma, slightly dizzy with the suddenness with which things were happening.
