Scala (8 page)

“Got it.” Walker takes off at a run.

Lincoln points across the Tower floor. “And there she is.”

Adair stands at the far wall of the Tower beside her two ghouls, chatting up Frederick, our Lead Warden. Is this what Adair does when she's not stalking me…Work over my Tower Wardens for information?

Lincoln has to yell above the din, which is good, since we don't want you-know-who to hear a word. “You still practicing those igni cords?”

“Yup.”

“How fast could you tie someone up?”

I can see where Lincoln's going with this, and I likes it. We can't use weapons in here, but I could restrain Adair with igni. That way, we can question her. “Fast.”

“Good. Wait for my signal.”

Up in the Control Room, Walker gets the Tower on lock-down. Instantly, the chamber goes from an overwhelming racket to creepily quiet.

The shut-down makes Adair jump, and she immediately scans the room. Once she spies Lincoln, and her cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Evidently, she didn't count on us following her here. Good. Now, she has to deal with the fact that she ignored Lincoln in the alleyway.

A yummy sense of satisfaction warms me to the core. So nice to be on the stalker side of the stalker-stalkee equation, for once.

Lincoln and I walk slowly towards Adair, who slaps on an angelic face as we approach. Once again, Lincoln raises his arm, like he did in the alley. “Lady Adair, you defied a direct order from your High Prince. I asked you to halt and speak with me. If we were in Antrum, you'd be in irons by now.”

Adair looks to Lincoln, her tiny eyes blinking innocently. “Did you speak to me before? I didn't hear anything.” She turns to the Lead Warden. “That's so interesting about the Ghost Carriers, I mean, the Cloud Carriers.”

I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. Nice. She knows I suck at my job, but she can't remember what to call the things I spend most of my day worrying about.

“Yes, Lady Adair.” Frederick glares at me, something I've never seen from him before. “The Carriers can be incredibly dangerous when they aren't managed properly.”

“Of course,” says Adair. “We'll talk again soon.”

Talk again soon? What the Hell?

“You got it,” says Frederick. They share a knowing look, and then my soon-to-be-ex-Lead Warden returns to his post.

Adair twiddles her fingers in his direction. “Thanks, Freddie.”

Freddie, not Frederick? Really? How long have these two been hanging out?

A nasty realization trickles into my mind. First Celia, now Frederick. In her spare time, Adair's been doing more than schmoozing my Wardens for information. She's been poisoning them against me. That's why Celia confronted me. Adair's been visiting the Towers, telling the Wardens what they want to hear: that I need to move souls, and that we all need to return to the ghoul-rules.

Unholy Hell.

Adair fiddles with her gown's long, loopy sleeves. “Thank Heavens I became a Diplomat here. Poor workers like Freddie have no one to advocate for them.” She offers a look of overblown sympathy to Lincoln. “And you? Our thrax warriors will be forced to murder all those ghosts once they break free and ravage Purgatory.” She shakes her head sadly. “And all because the Great Scala is so incompetent.”

Lincoln and I pause about five feet away from Adair and her pair of ghouls. We may be standing still, but my mind is whirling through her latest comments. Manipulating my people? Accusing me of not moving souls because I'm incompetent? Screw her. My fingers itch to have igni swirl around them. An igni-cord on her neck would be quite nice in particular.

Adair snaps her fingers. Her ghoul opens a portal behind her. “I'm afraid I must take my leave now. So much work to do. I'm sure you understand.”

Without giving Lincoln a chance to reply, Adair quickly steps towards the open portal behind her.

Lincoln turns to me. “Now!”

Instantly, igni blast forward from my hands, creating two long silver ropes that whip across the Tower floor. In the blink of an eye, Adair and her two ghouls are all looped along like beads on a string. My igni-cord wraps tightly around their waists, holding their arms firmly to their sides. Adair's ghouls writhe frantically in my bonds as they try to escape. No dice.

All the blood drains from Adair's face. “I wasn't here causing trouble,” she says quickly. “I am not abusing my role as thrax Diplomat.”

“No one said anything about abusing your post,” says Lincoln coolly. “Although now that you bring it up, unscheduled visits to Ghost Towers should be investigated.”

“You misunderstand, my love,” coos Adair. “I work day and night for the good of all thrax.”

She's so full of it. The good of all thrax is the absolute last thing on her to-do list.

Lincoln folds his arms over his chest. “Time to talk. You defied an official command from your High Prince. Twice. Any comment?”

“I am your loyal subject, Lincoln, first and always,” whimpers Adair. “Especially in my role as Diplomat. You must believe me.” Her eyes turn watery and pleading. Behind her, her ghouls still writhe in my bonds. Their portal wavers in and out of focus, but it doesn't disappear completely. Got to give them points for dedication.

“Excellent,” says Lincoln. “In that case, you won't mind answering a few questions.”

Adair stares at the igni cords around her waist. When she speaks, her voice comes out low and dreamy. All her attention is focused on her igni bindings. “What's your question about?”

Something about the way Adair is staring at my igni is wrong. Way wrong. My chest tightens with alarm. It becomes harder to breathe.

“I should think that would be obvious,” says Lincoln. “I want to discuss your behavior towards the Great Scala. Following her around. And now, visiting the Ghost Towers without Senator Frederickson. You know that breaks protocol.”

A slow, evil smile rounds Adair's lips. “I didn't know igni could do this.”

“Lady Adair,” says Lincoln, his tone sharp. “Are you listening to me?”

Adair shifts her weight against my cords, testing them. Her poor-little-girl persona visibly melts away, replaced by something nasty, fierce and predatory. The sense of alarm inside my nervous system escalates into downright panic. I fight the sudden urge to run.

“I won't ask this again,” states Lincoln. “Why've you been following the Great Scala around for months? Why did you run away from my command?”

Adair looks up, her eyes bright. “Here's what I have to say. Myla Lewis is infected with the Bloodstone Curse. The igni have chosen me instead.” With that, she raises her arms. My igni cords snap, setting her free.

The world around me freezes into one of those ‘oh my freaking Hell' moments that stick in your mind forever. Adair just broke my igni cords. I outright gasp. There's no way she should be able to do that. Not unless Adair can control igni. But that would mean she's really the Scala Heir, which is impossible. Adair's only part human and angel. You must have demon blood, too.

At that moment, my igni cords reform, the ends looping around Adair's palms. This wasn't my wish. Adair made this alteration on her own. We stare at each other, each of us holding the end of two igni cords. It's like we're in some kind of supernatural tug of war. Adair's ghouls stand free beside her, satisfied looks on their faces, their escape portal standing wide open.

My igni-cord changed, and I didn't alter it. Now, Adair's free. Her ghouls are free. I try to make the igni-cord break or disappear. I can't.

Now, I'm the one who's trapped.

My mind goes blank with shock. How could Adair block my powers, let alone change what I've done? At any point in time, only two people can wield igni: the Scala and the Scala Heir. And both of those beings must have the blood of an angel, demon and human in them. Could Adair have gotten demon blood in her somehow?

The igni cord winds tightly around my hands, making my palms freeze over with an ethereal chill. A sickly feeling seeps into my belly. This is exactly what I experienced when Adair held my hands at the end of her so-called ‘inspection' of Ghost Tower Six. Only this time, the sensation is far more intense. What is she doing, exactly? The answer to my question appears inside my mind, because the igni have started to scream. Both light and dark howl inside my head, their voices a mix of pain and terror.

This can't be happening. But it is.

Somehow, the igni cord between Adair and me has become a conduit. No matter how hard I try, I can't break the connection. I try to reverse the flow of power, pulling it from Adair to me instead. No go. All I can do is slow the transfer of my precious igni, but the effort makes every cell in my body hurt.

Light plays under my skin as igni are dragged from my soul, across the cord, and into Adair. Their tiny voices scream louder. My hands feel like blocks of ice. Adair's skin starts to glow with an otherworldly light.

Lincoln steps to my side. “Myla, what's going on?”

I speak through gritted teeth. “She's stealing my powers.” I focus all my mental strength, slowing the loss of my igni. Pain spikes through my temples. “She needs to set me free. I can't break the connection from here. I can only slow the transfer.”

Lincoln rounds on Adair. “Let her go.”

“I can't,” says Adair in a whining voice. “Lincoln, my love, you must see the truth. These are my igni powers, not hers. I'm the True Scala. I was the first one initiated by Verus. You were my Angelbound love before this demon whore came along. She stole my life and love, and now, I'm getting them both back. That's my right, don't you see?”

I may be in pain, but I'm not putting up with that crap. “Hey, nut job. I did not steal your so-called life and you know it.”

Adair ignores me and keeps right on talking to Lincoln. “She's been tricking you all along.” Her tone has turned pleading, desperate. “I'm trying to save you, and to do that, the demon whore must die.”

“Damn it, Adair!” Lincoln stalks over towards her, igniting his baculum as a fiery broadsword. You go, honey.

The Ghoul Diplomat steps forward, blocking Lincoln's path. In each hand, the ghoul holds a throwing dart. “Approach my Mistress and you'll have one of these in your gut.” He grins, showing a mouth of blackened teeth. “Covered in sleeping serum.”

Lincoln marches forward, his face set in determined lines. Fast as lightning, the ghoul launches his dart. It whizzes straight for Lincoln, only missing his neck by a fraction of an inch. Lincoln pauses.

“Come one step closer,” snarls the ghoul. “I dare you. No matter how fast you move, I won't miss at this range.”

Lincoln nods slowly. “You've thought this through rather carefully, I see.”

Adair looks at him plaintively. “Only because I love you.”

Lincoln glares at the ghouls. If he moves any closer to them, he'll end up with a sleeping dart in the gut…And all my igni stolen. Tiny voices scream in my mind
as my powers are ripped from me. Pain sears behind my eyes, making it hard to focus.

We're at a stalemate. And with every second that passes, I lose more igni.

Turning on his heel, Lincoln runs over to the containment wall, well out of the ghoul's range.

“Here's one thing you haven't thought of.” He raises broadsword high.

Unholy Moly. Lincoln's going to tear the containment wall open. And since I'm locked with Adair, I can't even send those escaped ghosts into Hell. I try to wrap my brain about what this means and come up with a plan, but all I can think about is the pain in my body and the howling cries of my igni.

Lincoln speaks in a creepy-low voice. “Join me in death, Adair.”

What happens next takes seconds to complete, but my mind tracks each detail in ultra-slow motion. Lincoln brings his arm down, slicing straight through the containment wall. The entire Carrier shatters, sending spirits tumbling out onto the Tower floor. The sudden loss of mist wakes them up. Some cry, others laugh, more howl with rage.

Adair screams. Immediately, she releases the igni bond between us, grabs the hands of her ghouls, and jumps into her opened portal.

The world around me returns to normal speed. The pain slowly seeps from my limbs. The igni grow quiet. My mind clears. I'm aware of flashing red lights as the Control Room kicks on its emergency processes. A thick mist rolls across the Tower floor, making it hard to breathe. Lincoln races up behind me, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist. He pulls me back onto my feet, above the heaviest billows of mist.

“Stay up, Myla. Get above the mist.”

My eyes widen with a realization. Breaking the containment wall floods the Tower with mist. It's standard protocol when a Carrier is breached. Lincoln would know that, too, after the night we spent in Ghost Tower One. But Adair's always been more interested in defeating me than learning how Soul Processing really works. She obviously thought we'd all end up dead, so she took off with her ghouls.

Way to think on your feet, babe.

The heavy mist rises higher and higher. Around us, all the spirits Lincoln released from their Carrier collapse into a deep sleep. My chest tightens as I gasp for air.

Walker's familiar hand slips into mine. The next thing I know, I'm tumbling through empty space as his portal transfers the three of us out of the Ghost Tower. It all happens so fast, I barely have time to register that I'm out of danger, let alone exhale a sigh of relief.

Walker, Lincoln, and I step out of the portal and into the main foyer of my house in Purgatory.

I cling tightly to Walker's hand. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be thanking him, but I have too many questions first. “What happened? Are the souls safe?”

“They're fine. None of them escaped. I need to go back, help them rebuild the containment wall.”

“I'll go with you.” For some reason, I'm having a really hard time letting go of Walker's hand.