Matchbox Girls (17 page)

“No,” she said flatly.

“So you don’t actually
want
a superpower.” He rubbed the space between his eyes, his face drawn and tired.

She shrugged and held out the celestial toy to Lissa. “Here. Play with this,” she ordered.

Confused, the preschooler took the device. She prodded it much as Marley had done, and all of the cubes started spinning. Kari squeezed out of the fort beside her and reached out to brush a finger across the glittering lights. The clicking of the cubes became a choral hum, like the long tones of a water harmonica. The light brightened until it was a flickering aurora. Then the Lullaby Plaything rose into the air until it was near the ceiling, twirled once, and soundlessly, peacefully exploded. The rods and cubes scattered everywhere, thudding into the furniture and carpet.

Corbin ducked a cube that flew past his head. “Uh.” His eyes were wide.

Marley looked at him inquisitively. “Not supposed to happen?” She bent down and picked up one of the rods. A cube came tumbling out from under a bedspread and bounced up into her other hand, and then tugged itself over to the rod as if by magnetism. They snapped together. The little girls, unfazed by the exploding plaything, oohed appreciatively.

Corbin said, “That wasn’t in the documentation, no.”

Lissa looked up. “Did we break it?”

Corbin stared down at her. “I hope not.”

Kari squeezed out from behind the table. “Here’s another piece.” She held a cube hopefully out to the rod Marley still held, but nothing happened. Her face fell. She patted it against the other cube a few times, until Lissa took it from her.

Tilting her head, she said, “It needs to rest for a while.” She carefully put it on the table and then scurried around the room finding the other pieces. After piling them on the table, she took the rod Marley held and added it to the collection. “There. Now it can take a nap.”

Corbin was still staring at the remnants of the Machine. “Corbin?” said Marley. “Are you all right? Are you going to get into trouble?”

He shook his head. “That was really weird. But for all I know, maybe the kid is right. As for trouble... I’m
already
in trouble. This is at least interesting trouble.” He shook his head again. “I’m more worried about how tired I am than trouble from Senyaza. I should have gotten more information from that.”

Kari said, “Maybe you need a nap, too!”

He mustered a smile. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

Kari shook her finger at him and then ducked back into the blanket tent. Lissa lingered outside, patting one of the cubes. Marley watched her for a moment and then turned and threw herself on the bed, covering her eyes. That gave her a close-up of the line of light running down her arm, but when she actually closed her eyes, the—what had Corbin called it?—the Geometric Sight faded away. She said, “This ‘detect-if-they’re-an-angel’ vision is pretty good, even if the Machine test didn’t work. It’ll tell me if someone’s marked by an angel, too?”

“Yes. The mark appears in the place where the halo would be.”

“That’s great,” she said. “That’s a useful superpower, I think. Doesn’t impact the rest of your life, either.”

“Marley—” he said, and stopped. When he spoke again, she could hear the frustration in his voice. “Are you really hoping to go back to your old life when this is over? Do you think you can make it all just... go away?”

She took her arm off her face and looked at the ceiling. “What? People trying to kill me? Exploding children’s toys stolen from Heaven? A monster inside my friend? I sure hope so.”

“I meant what’s inside of you—what you are—and you know it.”

“Can we just not worry about the catastrophe vision, please? I’ve got it under control at the moment. We don’t have the time or space for me to turn into a screaming, weeping wreck, here or on the highway.” She shuddered reflexively as a flash of the nightmare of multiple driver consequences flashed before her mind’s eye.

“I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that,” he said tiredly. “You should be able to influence what you see.”

“No, I can’t!” she snapped, and sat up. “I tried, with Penny! When I saw that thing inside her, I tried to make her safe. And it didn’t work. There is no safety. Except for them.” She pointed at the blanket fort as Lissa vanished into it, and realized she’d gotten very loud.

He stared at her silently, his eyes shadowed. Finally, she said, “If there are angels, are there also demons?”

“There are. Why do you ask?” His voice was perfectly neutral.

“Because if Ettoriel doesn’t let Penny go, I’m going to make him regret it. And I bet demons would be the folks to go to for help there. You said angels could die.”

Cautiously, Corbin said, “Machine Blades can end a celestial. And my people have developed a way to kill them, but it's not as permanent.”

“How impermanent?”

“Something eventually appears with the same name, and the same tendencies, but without any of the memories of the previous bearer of that name.”

“That sounds pretty good,” said Marley, with vicious satisfaction. “How is it done?”

He spread his hands. “Somebody performs complicated magic near the celestial's avatar or hidden core. The spell tethers the three parts of an angel—spirit, numina, avatar—together. While the tether is maintained, damage to the avatar or numina can affect the spirit, which is normally immortal and untouchable. It requires a solid team of my people to bring down a celestial, because the celestial needs to be heavily distracted or else they'll disrupt the spell.”

“But you do it. You kill the immortal.”

He shrugged. “My team is out of commission right now after trying to help Zachariah. And angels aren't our primary targets, so much. Not these days. There are other kinds of celestials that are more overtly dangerous.”

“Demons,” she said. “And I bet they're pretty interested in fighting angels, eh? Maybe they'll help me, if your people won't.”

Both amused and taken aback, he said, “You know, most humans just aren’t worth a Faustian revenge bargain.”

She pointed a finger at him. “You shut the hell up. Sounding like you’re something other than human. Aren’t you part angel and part human? Well, so far, the humans are worth a lot more than the angel. So as far as I’m concerned, there’s human, and human-plus.”

“Perhaps I’m part demon, instead. Still human-plus?” He looked at her expression and a number of emotions crossed his own face. “Not that it matters. Someday you’re going to meet a demon and you’re going to be surprised. Try not to be too attached to your preconceptions or you’ll get into trouble. They usually aim to please.”

Marley gave him a killing look, and stalked over to crouch down in front of the blanket tent. “Everything all right in there?”

Kari and Lissa were huddled together, clutching their dolls.

“You were yelling,” Kari whispered.

Guilt stabbed Marley, refocusing her frustration and irritation on herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Lissa said, “I want Uncle Zach back. When is he coming back? Can he come back now?” She curled up on her side, and stuck her thumb in her mouth.

“Not right now, but soon, I hope.” She dropped the makeshift tent flap and turned away, wishing she had another answer to give the two pairs of sad eyes. Corbin hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing, even to turn his head.

“I’m sorry,” she said to his back. “There’s just so much I don’t know, and Penny’s in so much danger, and my other best friend is going to hate me soon because I can’t tell her what I don’t understand, and these poor kids are so lost...” She trailed off, thinking about Zachariah.

Corbin’s near hand clenched into a fist. “I don’t believe he didn’t know what you are.”

“What?” she said, off-balance.

“Zachariah. He knew you were nephilim, an isolated one that Senyaza hadn’t found. He must have known. And he chose to keep you ignorant. He could have explained all this and more, and he didn’t. He could have given you days to acclimatize, weeks to learn.”

“I’m sure he must have had a reason—” But she suddenly didn't know why she was defending Zachariah.

“Oh, I’m sure he did. Just like I’m sure he had a reason for sending my friends and me off to get our asses kicked while keeping us ignorant as to the real reason. Because he’s a selfish secret-loving bastard.”

“I think even if he had clued me in, it wouldn’t have protected Penny,” she said quietly. “Why are you angrier at him than at the angel who actually hurt your friends?”

He crossed his arms and turned his head, but didn’t turn around. There was a pause, longer than Marley expected, until finally he said, “Because angels trying to kill nephilim isn’t unexpected. It's part of their philosophy. They want us all to go away. We... embarrass them. But nephilim have survived by cooperating. It doesn’t matter if your ancestors were angels or demons or kaiju or fae—we’re all nephilim together. That’s what Senyaza is all about. Senyaza doesn't trust Zachariah, but I gave him a chance. And now my friends are all in the hospital. And I
know
there's more going on than he shared.”

“I see,” Marley said quietly. “And where’s Senyaza now? I thought you were going to get their help.”

He finally turned around, spreading his hands again. “I’m it. Apparently there’s something major going down in Europe, so I got a promotion. So to speak.” He hesitated. “And somebody upstairs is pissed about the kaiju hunters being incapacitated. They
really
don’t believe anything Zachariah is involved in is good for Senyaza.”

“Lovely,” said Marley. “What does a promotion mean?”

He sat down. “Not much. I got access to this place, and to the Repository. Some people answered some questions when they might previously have told me to go away. I don't normally have much status, as the junior auxiliary member of the kaiju hunters... Anyhow, Ettoriel’s doing some weird stuff. He shouldn’t need children for what Zachariah claimed he was trying to do. But I don’t think he’s doing that anyhow. All the database remarks about Ettoriel say he's... decent. Subtle. Not our friend, but not genocidal either.”

“What’s he supposedly trying to do, again?” Marley knew he’d mentioned it, but somehow it had gotten lost in the flurry of new information. “Destroying my friend isn't decent,” she added.

“I know,” said Corbin. “It's desperate. Zachariah said he wants to destroy the Hush. Break down the wall we built so that the angels and demons and kaiju couldn’t directly control human events anymore. They try it sometimes, but Ettoriel has never been involved before.”

“What were you trying to protect from him?”

“You mean before you and the kids?” He sighed. “A ritual artifact called the Ragged Blade. Profoundly useful for cutting directly through lines of the Geometry. And, of course, for killing people.”

“A Machine Blade?”

“No. Something created by a human wizard, long ago. Ugly thing. There's a story that it could cut a victim right out of the world, in the proper circumstances.”

He yawned, and then yawned again, wider this time. “Look, you’ve got a lot to think about. And look at. Play with the Sight some. I haven’t had enough sleep for a week, so I’m just going to stretch out here for a few minutes. And then I’ll explain to you about the Geometry and the Hush and magic. Make a list of questions, if you want.” His eyes closed as his head touched the bedspread-covered pillow.

Then one eye opened. “Order something from room service when you’re hungry. Don’t go outside. I’ll wake up if anything happens. But nothing should. A whole lot of nothing, at least for a day...” His eye closed again.

-nineteen-

R
oom service didn’t knock on the door. Instead, the front desk called her and told her there was a cart outside her room, to be collected at her leisure. As she hauled the cart in, she saw a figure at the far end of the hall, unlocking another room. He had the nodes and the halo of a nephil, although his halo was dim, and he paid no attention to her. She saw another figure from the window, without a halo, but with each of his nodes infused with a complicated, shifting light. He got into a car and drove away, and she realized later that she couldn’t remember anything about him except the richness of the circles of light. That was when she decided maybe she should experiment with turning the Sight off and on.

As she and the kids ate, she poked at the Lullaby Plaything. The pieces all clumped together as if magnetized, but it wasn't in the delicate, engaging construction it had previously been. Instead, it was just a vaguely spherical chunk of components, like all the pieces had been mashed together. Marley tried to pull a rod out, but it resisted her, shifting in her hand as the clump tightened. It reminded her of Neath when the cat didn't want to wake up, and she put it back on the table. If it was a heavenly Machine, that might make it practically alive. Perhaps Lissa was right and it was only resting. She hoped for Corbin's sake that was true, even if it hadn't been very useful to them.

Later, as Corbin continued to sleep, she took a shower. While the smoke from the fires hadn’t started making it hard for her to breathe yet, the endless haze seemed to have permeated her skin. She felt like she hadn’t been clean in weeks. While scrubbing, she discovered that the wound on her arm was almost entirely healed. That changed the experience a bit.

She came out of the bathroom, combing her hair and trying to convince herself to let Corbin link her catastrophe vision to the Sight, to discover the twins arguing about something. They stood in a puddle of blanket, Kari grasping Lissa’s hand with both of hers and speaking rapidly; Lissa looked furious. They both looked up guiltily, and Kari fell silent. She pulled away from Lissa and went to stare out the polarized window.

“What’s going on?” asked Marley. She tried to sound casual, but the suppressed vision trembled like a captured bird.
Yes, so noted, disaster lurks
, she thought to it sourly.

“Does the lawyer man know where Uncle Zach is?” Lissa asked. “The one from the park. He said he did.”

Marley paused mid-comb, struck by the question. “I suppose he might.”