One Thousand Kisses (37 page)

Ani located the men and headed in their direction. Embor had wrapped Warran in a tight, crystalline shield. Blood trickled from a cut on Embor’s cheekbone. She beckoned to Gangee and Sonja that it was safe.

“Will it hold him?” She didn’t recognize the shield. If she had to do to Warran what she’d done to Ophelia… She smiled grimly. “If you like, I can put him out.”

“The shield will work until he can be sevendusted.” Embor touched her shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “I felt what happened. Now will you go?”

“No.” She sensed survivors in the rubble, and they had a more important battle to win before they could rest.

A battle against this ring. Against forces already in motion. Against prophecy.

“We have to find the lost ones,” she said. “Lemmar took three, so that leaves eight. I want to start with that girl.”

Embor’s bondmate, though he knew her shoulder and conscience pained her, clambered in the direction of the girl’s body.

He himself could have used a congratulatory embrace within Warran’s line of vision. The Elder was trapped behind a reverse barrier—holding him in instead of keeping others out. Embor didn’t like improvisational magic, but his heightened strength allowed it.

“Are you coming?” Anisette asked.

“Momentarily.” He didn’t know what she’d done to Ophelia, but he’d take no chances with either Torval escaping. He shielded her as well. They could be relocated as soon as he found trustworthy assistance. Perhaps he’d need the Drakhmores after all, until he and Skythia could sort out who at Court was steadfast.

Somewhere deep in the palace, he sensed his steadfast sister hurling lightning bolts.

Gangee and Sonja paused their rescue efforts to approach Embor. Blood spattered Gangee’s white tunic. The elderly Braithwait he’d healed followed them, wariness on his features. Had the old man sided with the Torvals or the Fiertags?

“Primary, I have unfortunate news,” Gangee said.

“What is it?” He noticed Harald Braithwait didn’t object to Gangee addressing him as Primary.

“Artur’s dead.” The healer, his voice scratchy, bowed his head. “I couldn’t save him.”

Dismay shuddered through him, but Embor didn’t have time to mourn. “You saved Harald, and you’ll save more today, my friend. The lost ones have to be sent home.”

“Two ran for the recess chamber. I’ll go after them while you and your bondmate tend the ones here.” He paused. “Do you agree, Primary?”

Gangee wasn’t a warrior. If the lost ones resisted, the physician’s defenses only worked in close quarters. Embor had no idea how much magic the ring had drained from the surrounding area.

He transferred in a survival pack with basic globes. “This will help. Sonja, go with him. Take the onesies to the green ring. Jake and Talista are waiting in Vegas.”

Sonja dipped her chin, and they made their way across the chamber. A small flash of white somewhere in the gallery distracted him. He stared at the half-crumbled seats. Was that a… No. Why would any sentient creature be this close to the dangerous, heaving fissure voluntarily?

He turned to find Elder Braithwait staring into the gallery as well.

“Was that a cat?” The old fairy rubbed his eyes.

“I don’t think so.” The black and white tom was the only cat Embor had known to venture into Court lately, and his half-glimpse had been pale and fluffy. A puff of dust. “They have more sense.”

“If only the blasted Torvals had more sense,” Harald responded. “Anybody with the brains of a dog knows the Fiertags would never betray the Realm.”

Touched by his opponent’s vote of confidence, he clasped the man’s shoulder. “Exit the Court complex and tell any survivors to convene at…” He couldn’t think. The new ring sucked the clarity out of him like magic from the Realm. He was seeing cats amongst the dust and couldn’t recall the Court’s long-standing evac plans.

“The Sun Tower?” the grey-haired Elder suggested. He fingered a pink scar across his forehead. Though the Braithwaits were the Fiertags’ rivals in the election, both were fine Elders. Embor was glad Harald hadn’t lost faith in him and Skythia.

“Yes. Spread the word. Ah, is your sib well?” When the Elder nodded, Embor did too. “Be safe, Harald.”

As soon as Harald left, the air whined like before the explosion. Embor’s teeth prickled as a colossal charge built. Another lost one? By now, their stay in the Realm prolonged, magic discharging all around them, they might all be going mad.

A woman screamed.

“Embor, come quick.” Anisette was tugging at rocks. “She’s alive. I can’t move the stones.”

Before he could act, magic crashed into them. The taste of all six spirits tearing at each other sliced through the world fabric. The earth split down the center of the chamber. An uncanny yowl cracked through the air like the cry of a banshee.

Embor transported himself to Anisette and protected her. Magic strobed and seethed. Tiny spurts of white, orange, black and grey flashed in his vision as the ring grew jagged and volatile. Shreds of the world? Whenever he tried to focus on the ring’s mushrooming edges, his gaze slid away like it was made of oil.

One ring they could have weathered. But whenever the lost ones used power, there would be more rings, bigger rings. If these even were rings. Could the Realm support so many weaknesses in the fabric? Would this cause a second Incident—or an apocalypse?

When the vibrations slowed, Anisette shook herself free and returned to the rubble. “It wasn’t the girl. She’s unconscious.”

“It’s unsafe here.”

“Obviously,” she said with a sudden grin. “But it’s unsafe for her, too. I won’t leave her. She asked for our help.”

“She’ll have to wait.” They had to reevaluate the situation far from this pandemonium. He, Skythia and other ether fairies could locate victims in the rubble one by one.

If the others weren’t cooperative, there was always a trip to visit Jake. Desperate times called for such measures, and that included breaking long-held Court covenants.

It might be too late for some, but it would save more. Distance would buffer his allies from any new rings. It would assemble the best minds of the Realm in one place. Whatever Skythia was doing wasn’t as important as saving lives and preventing the Realm’s destruction.

Need you
, he called Skythia. She seemed to be outside the complex, somewhere in the city.
I have a plan.

She took several seconds to respond, as if she didn’t have enough magic to answer.
Not now. Got loons.

You’re about to get Warran and Ophelia.
The instability of the rings might disrupt their prisons. He force-transported them to Skythia, shields and all.

Can I kill them?

Take them and the onesies to Jake and Talista in—
he managed before their link disappeared. By the Dragon, how much magic was being drained from the outlying areas?

Anisette shoved at a stone nearly as large as she was. Magic undulated around her, and a smudge of dust darkened her cheek like a bruise. “Would you get over here and help me?”

“We’ll get her out, but then we go.”

“Four more survivors.” She pointed at the southern end of the chamber.

They’d argue later. First the girl. He couldn’t latch onto her without seeing her. The stones had to go. He began transporting them to what he hoped was an empty field outside the complex. Pressure built as he worked, and he caught a glimpse of the girl’s battered face through the dust.

Now he could reach her.

“Not again,” Anisette moaned right before the air convulsed. Every molecule seemed electric. Embor threw another shield around himself, Anisette and the lost one.

The earth shivered. The split from the second onslaught widened with an ominous growl. Silence fell for an eerie moment until a deep rumble chugged beneath their feet.

They had to leave. Now. He’d come back alone for the others. Embor gathered his strength to transport the three of them to safety. Before he finished, water geysered through the crack, splattering the shield and streaming down the sides.

Anisette stared at the torrent cascading into the rubble. “That’s the mineral springs.”

“This puts anyone trapped on the floor in greater danger,” Embor said, “unless the water flows through the ring.” He hoped it didn’t open somewhere populated in humanspace.

She watched the fountain, her gaze distant. “The water’s staying. It could fill the room.” The chamber foundation had been dug into the bedrock for stability.

“Then we’re about to get wet.” Embor dropped the shield. Frigid water doused them instantly, soaking them to the skin.

The girl coughed and spluttered when the water wakened her. Anisette dropped to her knees as Embor shifted the last few stones. A large slab atop others had protected her body.

“You’re going to be all right.” Anisette placed gentle hands on the girl and accessed her magic, which Embor sensed as a faint glow through their bond.

“God, it hurts.” The girl sobbed, but her tears were washed away by the falling water. Embor created a simple umbrella shield to redirect it.

“I can fix it. Shhh.” Anisette brushed droplets from the girl’s cheeks. “Just don’t use your magic.”

Anisette’s power wrenched around them like a giant’s fist. The girl wheezed. Anisette helped her sit up.

“Mistress O is crazy,” the girl croaked. “They warned us not to use magic here. Never ever.” She had a peculiar accent. “It beats at me like two cats in a sack, and there’s cats everywhere. They’re all over, jumping around. What are they doing?”

“No one understand cats,” Embor told her, hoping it would calm her hysteria. It was clear she was unhinged. She had to be returned as soon as possible.

“I know it’s not easy,” Anisette said. “We’ll do everything we can to help you stay strong.”

The girl blinked rapidly. “You ain’t evil like they said, are you?”

Anisette smiled, transforming her serious expression into one of kindness and beauty. There was no way anyone could think she was evil. “No.”

“You ain’t deformed monsters? The Unseelie Court, seeking to bring darkness to us all?”

“We’ll explain everything soon.” Anisette helped her rise. “We have to find your friends and take you home. You can’t be here. What’s your name?”

“Crissy. I don’t like it here noways.”

Maintaining the umbrella, Embor escorted them toward the others. The geyser smacked into the light globes Anisette had created, their illumination wavering. The debris was wet and slick. Dust glommed into a layer of mud.

“Did you see what Euri did?” The girl stumbled on a chunk of marble. Embor supported her automatically. “Freddie didn’t do nothing, and she just gunned him down.”

“He’s alive,” Anisette said. “In fact, there he is.” She wiped her clinging hair out of her face.

The lost one Euridyce had shot cowered beneath a table. Blood and dirt covered his clothing and he was pale, but he seemed otherwise intact.

The boy’s gaze fell on Embor. “Don’t torch me, Conan, they made me do it.”

“Do what?” Embor released the umbrella. Mineral water sprinkled them lightly this far from the spume.

“All of it,” the youth babbled. “I didn’t want to make the lady love Master Warran. I didn’t want to make you crazy. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

This must be the earth onesie Milshadred had mentioned. Embor glanced at his bondmate, whose expression was stern.

“You healed yourself,” she chided the boy. “You caused one of the explosions.”

“You ain’t supposed to do magic here,” Crissy said, aghast. “Mildred told us over and over, if they tried to make us, we had to tell them no.”

Freddie held out his hands. “There was a bullet. In my shoulder. Look!” He flapped at his bloody shirt. “I thought I was going to die.”

The air shimmied, but it wasn’t Crissy or Freddie. Embor braced for another detonation as a onesie elsewhere in the complex succumbed. “Now we might all die. Get up, boy.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

The girl dragged him out from under the table. “He ain’t gonna kill anybody. He ain’t Unseelie.”

Freddie goggled. “Did you kill the Torvals?”

“I did not.” Even though it would have simplified matters. Embor crossed his arms. “They’ll be imprisoned.”

“But Rae Ann said the Hand of Fire would burn the world,” Freddie said to Crissy in a hoarse whisper. Water speckled his hair and clothing.

“Then let’s get out of Tir Na Nog and back to our own dimension, you ijit. We’ll be lucky if we ain’t old as Methuselah when we get there.”

“Over here.” Anisette had located more victims. The water deepened across the floor. Embor sloshed as he hastened to her side.

She clutched his arm. “Move those rocks.”

Magic boiled. Embor didn’t have to transport many stones. The two lost ones beneath maintained a rudimentary shield, barely sufficient to keep from being crushed. More than sufficient to have caused an explosion—or cause another.

“Let go of the magic,” Embor ordered the men, pressing his shield into theirs. “Now.”