The Collected Christopher Connery (38 page)

Arthur tried to wrap another blanket around Nia’s
shoulders, but she shrugged him off. “I’m warm enough, Arthur.”

“You need to rest, Ni,” he insisted, his worried eyes
dark in the flickering candlelight.

“I can’t.” She made herself sit absolutely straight with
her back against the headboard. Each breath sent a bolt of pain through her
ribs, but she was almost glad. The pain kept her awake.

“You should do another healing spell.” Arthur sat beside
her on the bed, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“No, I need to save what energy I have left for Connery.”

“You don’t
have
any energy left.” Arthur took one
of her hands in both of his. “Damn it, Nia, you’re ice cold.

 She returned the clasp as best she could. “I’ll be
all right. I just need a little time.”

“You would be stronger if you got some sleep.”

“I can’t.” Nia looked at the door. “Where’s Gail? She
should be back by now. Maybe we should –”

Arthur held tight to her hand and didn’t let her stand.
“There’s no way you can go out there again in your condition. She’ll be back
soon. She knows what she’s doing.”

Nia nodded tensely, but her whole body felt tight with
pain and worry.
Too long,
a voice kept whispering in her head.
It’s
been too longer.

Then, downstairs, the front door opened with a creak and
a thud.

“There.” Arthur squeezed her hand and smiled. “That’s her
now. I told you not to worry.”

Footsteps on the stairs. Slow, measured footsteps. Slow,
measured,
heavy
footsteps, not at all like Gail’s quick quiet stride.

Judging by the way Arthur pulled her against him, he had
come to the same conclusion.

Ignoring the pain ripping through her, Nia pushed him
from her. He stared at her in confusion, but she pushed him firmly away.
“Arthur, you have to get out.”

He gaped at her. “What?”

“Go out the window. Now. Before he gets here.” Nia put both
hands against Arthur’s shoulders and shoved as hard as her throbbing ribs
allowed. “Damn it, Arthur, go!”

“I am not leaving you,” Arthur whispered fiercely.

“You have to. I can’t climb out a window like this, and
if I try to heal myself more, I’m only going to pass out.”

“I could carry you.” Arthur’s voice sounded choked now.
Nia was glad it was too dark to see if there were actual tears in his eyes.

“No, you can’t. We would both fall.”

The footsteps were in the hallway now, making their slow
way toward their door.

Nia gripped Arthur’s sleeve fiercely. “Gail might still
be alive. You’re her only chance, Arthur. You have to
go.”

Now there was no mistaking the rough breathy tone in his
voice. “Ni, I –”

“Arthur,
please.”

He went. At first Nia was terrified that the window
wouldn’t open, but it slid up on his third push. He scrambled out on to the
roof without looking back at her and eased the window closed behind him.

Nia listened hard for a scream or a crash or a thud, any
sign that he had slipped on the rain-slick roof and fallen, but there was only
the increasingly percussive patter of rain.
Please find her, Arthur,
she
thought, closing her eyes tightly.
And if you can’t find her, get away from
here. Go somewhere safe, please.

The door opened, but Nia didn’t open her eyes until she
heard him say, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you properly, Illuminator
Graves.”

Nia turned her head and saw Connery standing in the
doorway, wearing Xavier Rivers’ skin.

He seemed to be waiting for her to respond to his greeting.
When she didn’t he stepped farther into the room. “You impressed me, you know.
It’s just too bad you’re so stunted by the Academy.”

Nia had no patience for his taunting. “Where’s Gail?”

A smile stretched across his face. “Funny, that’s just
what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Gail woke up drowning.

Every time she tried to breathe, muddy water rushed into
her mouth and nose. She tried to yank her head up, but something jerked her
back down beneath the water. In a mad panic, she writhed and flailed and likely
would have suffocated herself if her grasping fingers hadn’t closed on a length
of wet chain. She followed it with her hands until she realized it looped
around her own neck.

Wrapping both hands around the chain, she yanked it free
of the sucking mud. As the chain pulled loose, she was able to scramble
backwards, gasping desperately for air as she coughed up mouthful after
mouthful of filthy water. Clutching her stomach, she vomited what seemed to be
another liter of water then slumped backward on the slick mud.

Where am I? Where did he take me?
She was outside,
that much was clear, because it was raining – no, pouring on her. More water
was lapping up her legs, soaking through her boots and pants.

The riverbank. He has me chained by the riverbank.
She
could see the shadow of the bridge a few yards distant. If she could make it
there, she could at least get out of the downpour, but the chain wouldn’t let
her get more than a few feet up the bank.

And the water was rising.

She clasped her hands over her head to fend off the rain,
though she knew it was no good. The water had already soaked beneath her poncho
while she was lying in the mud. She tried to stand, but the chain pulled taut,
forcing her back to her hands and knees. She felt up around her neck and
discovered the chain had been welded into a vulgar collar. She could get her
fingers around it easily, but there was no way she could get it over her head.

Though the thought of going closer to the water made her
want to vomit again, she inched back down the bank, following the chain by
touch.

Please don’t let it be in the river.  

It wasn’t. She found a metal weight sunk into the mud just
above the waterline, but no matter how hard she pulled, she couldn’t shift it.

Panic set in again, she could feel her breath coming
quicker, her hands shaking around the chain. It almost felt like the collar was
growing tighter with each –

She grabbed at her throat again. This time it took a
little more squirming to get her fingers between the chain and her throat. She
swore she could feel the metal quivering against her fingers like a living
thing.

A hungry thing.

She yanked at the weight once more, putting all her
strength into dragging it free of the mud.

It didn’t budge. Her wet hands slipped on the wet chain
and she fell backwards, nearly sliding into the river. She managed to right
herself, but this time she was sure she had felt the chain squeeze tighter on
her throat.

She was trapped. Unless someone cut the chain off, she
could only sit here until the river or the chain choked the life out her.
“Hey!” she shouted as loudly as she could in her raspy, water-burned voice.
“Nia! Arthur! I’m down here! Hey!”

Her voice hardly seemed to carry over the cacophony of
the storm, but she kept shouting until her throat felt like it was coated with
broken glass. She shouted and screamed, knowing that before too long the magic
chain would cut off her voice for good.

“What do you mean?” Nia tried not to let any emotion show
on her face even though her heart was racing fast enough to hurt her battered
ribs.

“I have a proposition for you,” Connery continued. “I
don’t much care for this body. It’s younger than mine, sure, but without magic,
it’s useless.”

That’s right. If he doesn’t have access to his magic
then maybe even in my weakened state, I can –

He smiled at her then, as though he could read her mind.
“Don’t mistake me, Illuminator Graves. I’ve got plenty of spells drawn and
prepared. They’ll last me a good while. Even so, I’d prefer to get back where I
belong and out of this worthless layman body.”

Nia’s face flushed with heat. “How
dare
you? You
essentially murdered Mr. Rivers and now –”

“Me?” said Connery. “I was already dead.”

“It was your plan,” Nia spat. “Everyone did exactly what
you wanted.” She swallowed hard around her own bitter realization. “I did
exactly what you wanted.”

Connery smiled almost sadly, though Nia knew his pity was
as false as the stolen face he wore. “Yes, you did. And now I want you to do
something else.”

“No.”

“I thought you wanted to save the detective.”

“What?” The word fell out of Nia’s mouth before she could
stop it.

Connery folded his arms over his chest and leaned back
against the doorframe. “Right now, she’s alive. Under these conditions, I
imagine she’ll stay that way for another hour or so. After that?” He waved one
hand in an imitation of a bird taking flight. “No more detective.”

Nia could barely breathe. She tried to sound calm, calm
and in control, but her “Where is she?” came out as little more than an
unsteady whisper.

“I’ll be happy to tell you after you do something for
me.”

There was no way she could have stopped herself from
asking. “What is it?”

“Put me back together.”

“No.” Nia shook her head. “No. No, I won’t.”

“Why not?” Connery asked with a grin. “It won’t take
long, even weakened as you are, and you’re certainly not lacking for
motivation.”

“What if I just killed you?” Nia snapped, clenched fists
shaking with rage. “What if I just cut you up and left you in pieces?”

Connery’s face wrinkled thoughtfully. “You could, I
guess. You could leave the operation half-finished and I wouldn’t be able to do
a thing about it. But, of course, then I wouldn’t be able to tell you where
your friend is.”

“I could find her myself,” Nia said.

“In that case, I guess you win! Congratulations in
advance.” He smiled. “Of course, you would be wagering Detective Lin’s life,
but everything has its price, doesn’t it?”

He was right. Oh, damn it, he was right. “I have no
guarantee you’ll tell me, even if I do what you want,” Nia argued weakly.

“You’re right, you don’t. She could be dead already for
all you know, but do you want to take the chance?” His expression was
remarkably sanguine, as though he was entirely indifferent to whether or not
she agreed to help him – or as though he already knew what she was going to
pick.

She bit back a sob of frustration. She would not cry in
front of Connery. She would
not.

Connery walked over to the bed and held out his arm, like
they were about to enter a dance hall together. “Now, why don’t we head to the
garage, my lady?”

Holding her face in a rigid mask, Nia let him help her to
her feet. She wished Gail and Arthur were there to tell her what they thought,
but they weren’t.

She was entirely on her own.

No one was coming. Gail’s voice was growing weaker with
every cry and no one was coming. Worse, the chain was now so tight that she
could feel it when she swallowed. At this rate, she would be choked into
insensibility soon and if she passed out, the rising water would make quick
work of her.

Shouting had kept her terror at bay for a while, as if
her screams could drive off the rain, but as her voice faded to a rusty croak,
the fear came back with a vengeance. Her skin would soon feel the effect of the
water, turning red and irritated where the wet clothes rubbed against her body.
But worse, she had no idea how much water she had swallowed while she lay
unconscious in the mud. She had vomited twice, but there was no guarantee she
had purged it all and the rain was still coming down.

I guess I’ll see you soon, Dad. I know this isn’t how
you wanted it to turn out for me, but I did the best I could, promise.

“Gail! Gail, can you hear me!

At first she thought it was her dad somehow answering
back from wherever he was. Then she recognized the voice. “Arthur!” Her
exhausted voice caught and ground in her throat and the thunder boomed like it
wanted to drown her out, to see her choked and drowned in the river.

Well, you know what I say to that, thunder? Fuck you.
“Arthur!
Arthur! Can you hear me? I’m down here! Here!” Knowing her voice would soon
give out entirely, she punctuated her screaming by striking the length of chain
against the buried weight. Arthur had to hear her, he had to –

“Gail!” Arthur was little more than a darker smudge in
the blackness up at the top of bank. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s –” Gail’s voice squeezed into a weak whine;
she swallowed hard and tried again. “Yeah, it’s me!”

“Hell… I’m coming, hold on!”

Gail crawled as far up the bank as the chain would allow
and dug her knees and fingers in the mud. Arthur scrambled down to meet her,
sliding on his hip a little, but managing to drag himself to a stop beside her.
Gail caught hold of his poncho and they clung together in the mud.

“Are you all right?” he yelled over the thunder and
pounding rain. “I didn’t think I would actually find you. I thought – damn, are
you all right?”

“I’m okay,” Gail lied. “But where’s Nia?”

Arthur dug something out from under his poncho. A moment
later, bright white light was shining into Gail’s eyes. “Sorry,” he said when
she winced and pointed the glowing sphere down at a less blinding angle.

“Where’s Nia?” she asked again. “Is she at the house?”

Silence. Then, “She’s with him.”

“What?” The word came out in a harsh whisper that had
nothing to do with her abused throat.

“He came back into the house and she told me to find you.
I didn’t want to, but I –” Arthur pulled in an unsteady breath. He’d probably
been fighting to hold it together ever since he had been separated from his
sister and his control was wearing thin. “Was that right? I found you, but she
might –”

“You did the right thing,” Gail told him even though the
thought of Nia being alone with Connery made her stomach turn. “He must still
need her for something or he would have just killed me outright, not left me
someplace he could come back to. He won’t hurt her.”

“You don’t know that.”

No, I don’t.
“He won’t. But we should still hurry.
Can you find any way to get this off?” Gail held up the length of chain.

He blew out a hissing breath as he held the light up to
the chain. “This is thick. I’m going to need something to break it with. Maybe
there’s an axe or a mallet in the toolshed and –” His hand closed on the chain
and gave it an experimental tug.

The links contracted violently, crushing down on Gail’s
throat. She clawed at the loop around her neck, but she couldn’t even wedge her
fingers between the metal and her skin anymore.

Even while shouting her name in terror, Arthur tried to
help pry the collar away from her throat, but the chain drew away from his
hands, digging deeper into Gail’s neck.

He thought of everything,
Gail realized, opening
her mouth to breathe and managing only a weak whistle.
He would rather kill
me than let me escape.

The world was fading to a dull gray that would soon
become black. She could just barely hear Arthur calling her and yanking on the chain,
not knowing that his every touch was killing her faster.

Get out here, doc,
Gail thought as hard as she
could before she lost the ability to think at all.
Help Nia, and both of you
get the hell away from here.
She tried to swallow, but her throat couldn’t
move against the chain. Her last coherent thought was,
I really hope Dad’s
not watching this.

Then the pressure vanished with a metallic crack. The
sudden rush of air was almost painful. She collapsed on her hands, gasping and
coughing until tears ran down her cheeks.

I’m alive.
The thought floated through her
oxygen-deprived mind on a giddy wave of disbelief.

As her mind slowly settled back into her body, her eyes
focused a gleam of light in the muddy water. Reaching out, she picked up the
magic light that Arthur had dropped. When its glow spread across the riverbank
again, she saw Arthur bent over with his hands on his knees and the broken
chain between them. When Gail picked up the two halves, the ends crumbled like
ash.

She looked up at Arthur. “How the fuck did you do that?”

Arthur lifted a trembling hand to his chest. “That hurt a
lot more than I thought it would.”

Then he collapsed face down in the muddy water.