The Veil
Page 137
There hadn’t been much to Talisheek before the war—just a grocery store and post office, a few houses. The landscape had been mostly trees, with parcels scraped down to earth to plant crops. Now spots of forest and the char of battle covered the ground like a checkerboard. No one lived in Talisheek now.
Gunnar parked a quarter mile away, down a long-abandoned gravel road, and we crept in silence toward what was left of the brick arch that marked the front gate. We reached it and slipped behind brick to watch the action on the other side.
Most of the lawn where the battle had raged was still black, although grass had grown through in small patches that magic hadn’t managed to kill. And in the middle of that parched earth, the monument to war—two angular, forty-foot-tall concrete wings that soared into the air. The statue’s shape had been controversial—wings weren’t exactly popular with humans. But they made for a perfectly haunting reminder of what had happened here.
There was about ten feet of space between the wings. That area was paved with bricks carved with the names of the units that had fought at Talisheek.
Two military vehicles were parked near it. And there were three dozen operatives on the ground and around the monument. Rutledge stood near the base of the wing on the left, with two other people in nonmilitary gear.
One was Phaedra Dupre. I didn’t recognize the other one—a shorter man with dark skin. If he was a Sensitive like Phaedra, did that mean there were only two locks left?
Wings fluttered, and Malachi landed behind us. “He has already unlocked some keys.”
“How do you know?” Liam asked.
“We are close to the Veil, and its fluctuations are obvious. It is wilder now, like a flag held by a single thread in a fierce wind. We must keep it closed.”
Rutledge opened a panel in the wing, pulled out a large gray box that glinted with gold. I guessed that was our prize.
There was a woman with Rutledge in green, but her back was to us. But when she turned, she looked much too familiar.
“Oh, damn,” Liam muttered.
It was Nix. Green dress, her magical mask thrown away to reveal her pointed ears, her faintly green skin, a golden staff in hand.
She stood beside Rutledge. He was telling her something. As though he was emphasizing his point, he turned, reached out, caressed her shoulder. She didn’t show any reaction to his touch. But longing was clear on his face.
“Double damn,” I murmured as the memory of her at the table in the store struck me. “She said she wanted to go home. He’s helping her open the Veil so she can do that.”
“Is she using him, or is he using her?” I wondered.
“Probably both,” Malachi said. “She has information and expertise, and wants to go through for personal reasons. He has personal feelings for her, but wants to open the Veil for financial and professional reasons. It is mutually beneficial.”
“And mutually repugnant,” I said, thinking of the trust we’d all put in her. “She put Broussard onto me,” I realized, and felt fury light inside my gut.
“Probably so,” Gavin said morosely.
I looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s done,” he whispered fiercely, his features set and hard as ice. I’d seen Liam do the same thing—shut down his emotions. The Quinn boys were good at it.
“She is fallen,” Malachi said. “She is a traitor. Let it be heard and remembered.”
I reminded myself never to get on his bad side.
“The refinery isn’t safe,” Liam said. “She knew we were meeting there. We’ll need a new location.”
“We’ll discuss that after,” Malachi said. “For now, let’s focus on the task in front of us. He won’t know that Containment is on its way yet.” He walked forward, looked at me and Burke. “We have a few allies moving forward from Bogue Chitto, should the worst happen. But there are not many, and they may not be enough. We can’t wait.”
Gunnar parked a quarter mile away, down a long-abandoned gravel road, and we crept in silence toward what was left of the brick arch that marked the front gate. We reached it and slipped behind brick to watch the action on the other side.
Most of the lawn where the battle had raged was still black, although grass had grown through in small patches that magic hadn’t managed to kill. And in the middle of that parched earth, the monument to war—two angular, forty-foot-tall concrete wings that soared into the air. The statue’s shape had been controversial—wings weren’t exactly popular with humans. But they made for a perfectly haunting reminder of what had happened here.
There was about ten feet of space between the wings. That area was paved with bricks carved with the names of the units that had fought at Talisheek.
Two military vehicles were parked near it. And there were three dozen operatives on the ground and around the monument. Rutledge stood near the base of the wing on the left, with two other people in nonmilitary gear.
One was Phaedra Dupre. I didn’t recognize the other one—a shorter man with dark skin. If he was a Sensitive like Phaedra, did that mean there were only two locks left?
Wings fluttered, and Malachi landed behind us. “He has already unlocked some keys.”
“How do you know?” Liam asked.
“We are close to the Veil, and its fluctuations are obvious. It is wilder now, like a flag held by a single thread in a fierce wind. We must keep it closed.”
Rutledge opened a panel in the wing, pulled out a large gray box that glinted with gold. I guessed that was our prize.
There was a woman with Rutledge in green, but her back was to us. But when she turned, she looked much too familiar.
“Oh, damn,” Liam muttered.
It was Nix. Green dress, her magical mask thrown away to reveal her pointed ears, her faintly green skin, a golden staff in hand.
She stood beside Rutledge. He was telling her something. As though he was emphasizing his point, he turned, reached out, caressed her shoulder. She didn’t show any reaction to his touch. But longing was clear on his face.
“Double damn,” I murmured as the memory of her at the table in the store struck me. “She said she wanted to go home. He’s helping her open the Veil so she can do that.”
“Is she using him, or is he using her?” I wondered.
“Probably both,” Malachi said. “She has information and expertise, and wants to go through for personal reasons. He has personal feelings for her, but wants to open the Veil for financial and professional reasons. It is mutually beneficial.”
“And mutually repugnant,” I said, thinking of the trust we’d all put in her. “She put Broussard onto me,” I realized, and felt fury light inside my gut.
“Probably so,” Gavin said morosely.
I looked at him. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s done,” he whispered fiercely, his features set and hard as ice. I’d seen Liam do the same thing—shut down his emotions. The Quinn boys were good at it.
“She is fallen,” Malachi said. “She is a traitor. Let it be heard and remembered.”
I reminded myself never to get on his bad side.
“The refinery isn’t safe,” Liam said. “She knew we were meeting there. We’ll need a new location.”
“We’ll discuss that after,” Malachi said. “For now, let’s focus on the task in front of us. He won’t know that Containment is on its way yet.” He walked forward, looked at me and Burke. “We have a few allies moving forward from Bogue Chitto, should the worst happen. But there are not many, and they may not be enough. We can’t wait.”
