Shadow City (22 page)

“That’s a hell of a lot of sewage,” Max murmured.

He laughed. “Magic has its perks. We’re almost there. Are you ready?”

“Always. But do you suppose there’s anything you can do to hide your shiny wings so they don’t look quite so much like a lighthouse beacon?”

“Of course.” He closed his eyes, and Max felt a layer of magic fall over them like a blanket of soft snow. They were both covered in a sheath of what looked like ash. His eyes opened again and gleamed like liquid gold against the charcoal gray. “Good enough?”

“Show-off.”

He smiled, and then he tipped forward, his wings closing tight against his body. Max yelped and wrapped her legs around his as they plunged headfirst into Chadaré. She felt laughter rumble through his chest.
Fucker
. He was enjoying this way too much. He was as bad as Tutresiel.

They dropped nearly a mile, and Max was pretty sure they weren’t going to be able to pull out of the free fall when Ilanion flared his wings. The pockets of bone and leathery hide gave a loud popping sound. Max and Ilanion jerked upward like they’d been caught on a fishhook. Instantly, he tipped into a shallower dive and flew them down to the ground, landing in a small courtyard in the corner of a spacious estate.

Max let go of him and staggered away on rubbery legs. She bent and put her hands on her knees, drawing in a couple of deep breaths before straightening. The ash spell still clung to her and Ilanion, making him look more demonic than not.

“Where are we?”

“About a half-mile away. Follow me.”

He led her down several garden paths to the outer wall. There was a gate, but he didn’t try to open it. Instead, he reached for Max, but she waved him away.

“I’ve got it.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her and then at the thirty-foot wall but didn’t argue. He gestured. “After you, then.”

Max flexed her knees and jumped. The angel feather embedded in her palm made her soar well above the wall. She landed lightly on the far side of the street. Ilanion dropped down beside her.

“You continue to surprise me,” he said quietly. There weren’t any pedestrians close enough to overhear, but there was no point in taking chances.

Up the street, a carriage drawn by two beasts that weren’t quite horses trundled toward them. In the other direction, a tinker driving a pedal wagon rolled along, his metal wares clanking loudly. Several robed figures hurried along carrying baskets and pushing hand carts

Max could feel the magic of Asherah’s wards, and the opalescent mist billowed above the rooftops like a beacon. Together, she and Ilanion headed in that direction. In a few minutes, they stood outside the cream and red stone walls.

She started when the ash spell shrank away and disappeared.

“The less active magic we take inside, the better,” Ilanion murmured with a glance back at the street to see if they’d been noticed. “Active spells can call attention to themselves.”

“So, the old-fashioned way,” Max said. She eyed the gate where she’d lost the hunter’s trail that first day in Chadaré. The only way inside was through the gate or by taking a blind leap over the wall into the opalescent mist. Her locking spells would let her open the gate, which meant that she and Ilanion could walk in like they belonged there. Jumping over might trigger defense wards.

She grabbed the gate handle and twisted. Magic reached out to her, sliding over her like sticky tentacles. But they couldn’t find a grip on the armor or her skin. She was a walking key, and the lock couldn’t hold. The ward magic curled away, and the bolt inside shot open. She caught Ilanion’s startled look and winked. Another surprise. She pushed the gate open.

They stood in a kind of garden made of silver, gold, and jewels. Witchlights lit the place, making it glow with fairy-tale brilliance. The ground was paved with opals, the benches made from sapphires and rubies, all of it mortared with gold and silver.

It was hard to see through the dazzle, and Max’s skin crawled with the feeling that they weren’t alone. She felt exposed. There were no shadows at all to hide in.

She cast a questioning look at Ilanion. Did he have any idea where they were or where they were going? He shook his head. Time to explore, then. Motioning for him to follow, Max started away from the wall.

Despite the feeling of being watched, they encountered no one. Nor did they hear anything. The air was thick with silence. Even the jingle of their weapons and the rub of their clothing were muted. It felt as if they were walking into a trap, but Max didn’t see any other choice. She definitely didn’t want to leap up into the mist. She had a feeling that anything passing through it would set off very definite alarms, if they weren’t killed outright.

The gemstone garden went on for what seemed like forever. Max stopped near a bridge that went over a frozen river of rubies and pearls. She bent close to Ilanion’s ear.

“We should have got somewhere by now,” she whispered. But even that small sound was caught by the trees and sent a vibration rippling through the garden. Leaves shivered, and a low crystal whine began to grow, slicing through the syrupy silence. “Shit,” Max said through clenched teeth.

The sound around them increased. Max could feel vibrations resonating up through her feet and into her bones. Soon they’d shatter, like a wineglass when an opera singer hits just the right note. Ilanion had wrapped himself in a flickering sheath of protective magic. He might be able to hold out against the noise, but she couldn’t.

She turned and started to run, holding on to her swords to keep them from jangling. Her feet were covered in the magic armor and made no sound. Ilanion was nearly as silent.

The noise echoed and reechoed again and again, growing louder as the vibrations of the leaves and flowers increased. It drilled down into Max’s skull, sending darts of fire and darkness across her vision. It felt like her skull was cracking apart.

Frustation and fury roared inside, and she chopped at a tree with one of the swords. The trunk exploded in a hail of glass and metal. She turned away, letting her armor take the brunt of the burst. But it gave her an idea. If she didn’t have a path, she’d damned-well blaze a trail out of the place.

She grabbed Ilanion and slung him over her shoulder and leaped into another tree. It was shaking like a wind was tearing at it. The mist swirled above her head and slid acidic tendrils across her cheek and neck. Her skin bubbled and blistered. Max ignored the pain and ducked to keep her eyes clear. She couldn’t afford to go blind. She chopped at the branches of the tree, shattering its crown. Jagged chunks of glass and twisted metal crashed to the ground.

Max leaped to another and did the same, glad she wasn’t on the ground where the glass shrapnel would have made her job impossible. She looked over her shoulder between every jump, making sure that she was going in a straight line. Sooner or later, she’d get somewhere, or she’d break every tree in the garden.

The vibrations were increasing. Every splintered tree seemed to double the level of cacophony. Ilanion’s nose and ears were bleeding despite his protective spell. So were hers. Her vision blurred crimson as tears of blood overflowed her eyes. Although she could feel her healing spells kicking into overdrive, they weren’t keeping up with the damage. She remembered her armor, and it slid up to cover her ears, lending her a little bit of relief.

She flung her head up. Smells. She launched herself headlong, following the scent trail. She leaped on a horizontal line, using all the spring of the angel feather to give her extra momentum. The resonance around them had grown into a shriek, and Ilanion’s body had begun to twitch and convulse. He was about done.

Max flexed to land and jump again. Her feet passed right through the tree as if it weren’t there. She and Ilanion sprawled on a metal surface in a pool of silence. Max rolled to her feet and swung around, blinking to clear her vision.

She stood on some kind of patio. It was circular and paved with gold. Tall, delicate columns made of solid amethyst ran around its edge, supporting an elegant cream-colored marble balcony. Behind it, broad arching doorways led away into the house. Or, rather, the palace.

It was huge. Like a half-dozen Walmarts big. Except that it looked like the bastard child of Disneyland, with shiny swaths of glitter-covered ribbons, sparkling fountains, and a stardust shine to every surface. Even the opal mist above sparkled. There ought to have been little talking animals holding a tea party, cotton-candy flowers on candy trees, and princesses singing on every corner. It was enough to make Max want to vomit.

“I told you I’d be waiting,” came a masculine voice from behind. She spun around.

The hunter from earlier stood opposite, his five Calopus around his feet. His arms were crossed, and his eyes gleamed. He was aching for a rematch.

Max flicked a glance at Ilanion. He lay on his shoulder, his back to the hunter. He was watching her through his helm, his jaw taut with pain. She stepped over him, putting him behind her. She hoped he had the sense to escape while she kept the hunter busy. He could still get out alive.

“I hate to be late for a date,” she said, cracking her knuckles. “Especially one so eager as you. Shall we start with dinner, or do you want to get right to the sex?”

He smiled, his long canine teeth gleaming. “Sex?” He shook his head regretfully. “It’s tempting, but I think we won’t get so far.”

“Your loss,” Max said. “Come on, then. Let’s finish this.”

His brows rose. “Do you want a moment to collect yourself? I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

She eyed the spiked wolves at his feet. “What do you call those? They look like an advantage to me.”

He followed her gaze and shrugged. “They are friends. And weapons.”

“Not like taking advantage at all,” she said.

“If you didn’t like the odds, maybe you shouldn’t have trespassed.”

“You’ve got a point. All right, then, let’s get on with it, Tarzan. I’ve got things to do.”

He straightened, his arms falling to his side. Something flashed in his eyes. Anger, yes, but more than that. It was . . . broken pride. Not good. Tarzan had a point to prove about losing, and that meant he wasn’t going to care about his own hide. Maybe Asherah had ripped him a new one and told him not to bother coming back if he failed again. Or maybe he just couldn’t stand to lose. Either way, this fight was to the death.

Max drew the two swords as the five Calopus fanned out in a half-circle, lips peeling from their fangs as they snarled. She just hoped her new armor was as good as Ilanion claimed. A musical jab in her mind made her wince.

“Sorry,” she said aloud. “Why don’t you show me just how good you are?”

Tarzan thought she was talking to him. “I plan to,” he said, drawing his own blades with a flourish.

Before he or his beasties could attack, Max took the fight to them, blades whirring. The clock was ticking, and Scooter was running out of time. Today, death had a deadline.

V
ALERY WAS WAITING FOR
A
LEXANDER WHEN HE,
Thor, and Tyler returned to Horngate just a few minutes before dawn. His skin was turning scarlet with the burn of the predawn. That was new.

He stretched and shook himself. The sixty-mile run had been arduous but had burned up some of the raging emotion inside him.
Faith,
he told himself.
Faith
. Max
had
to be alive. Anything else was too awful to even contemplate.

“You’re a son of a bitch,” Valery told him, her hands on her hips. The air around her trembled like desert heat off the pavement.

“So I have heard.” He reached out to hug her, and she shoved him away. He grinned and grappled her close.

After a moment, she hugged him back hard. “I thought I was going to lose you,” she said against his shoulder.

He closed his eyes. Max meant so much to him, but she was not everything. She could not be. He had Valery and Horngate. He could not let himself be swallowed up. “It will not happen again.”

“Better not.” She pushed away, and this time he let her go. “You need to eat. All of you.” She looked at Thor and Tyler.

Their expressions were still pissed. He had some fences to mend. “We will meet you in the dining commons,” he told Valery, and gave a slight jerk of his chin.

She hesitated, then nodded. When she was gone, Alexander turned to the two Blades. “You have something you want to say?”

Tyler exploded like a bursting dam. But if Valery had been hot, he was as cold as an Arctic winter. “You self-centered prick. Max left you in charge, and first you throw a temper tantrum and refuse to step up, and then you get a little bad news—” He broke off, his face contorting. He took a breath, his expression going flat as a snake. “And you run off like a pimple-faced teenager who gets pissed at his parents for grounding him. On top of that, you nearly get Niko killed.”

Tyler flicked a bitter look at Beyul, who had dropped to his haunches beside Alexander and was watching the exchange, his pink tongue lolling from his mouth as he panted.

“It’s time for you to suck it up. Do you want to belong to Horngate or not? Because if you do, you’d better stop acting like a pissy little baby and get with the program.”