The Wild Ways (27 page)
An enormous golden dragon looking sheepish was actually kind of adorable, but Charlie buried her reaction because an enormous
sulky
dragon was not. “No harm no foul; front tires missed my toes by whole centimeters.” Feeling the power starting to build, she jerked a thumb toward the sky. “Move it!”
sulky
dragon was not. “No harm no foul; front tires missed my toes by whole centimeters.” Feeling the power starting to build, she jerked a thumb toward the sky. “Move it!”
The backwash from Jack’s wings nearly knocked her on her ass, but she played a D flat minor 7th against it and managed to stay standing. She watched him rise until he covered a patch of stars no larger than her hand, then turned her full attention to the ritual. Either she trusted Jack to do what was necessary or she didn’t, and if she didn’t, he had no business being up there.
Charlie felt the moment David changed and the family anchored itself deeper in its chosen home. Felt Allie begin to gather power as Graham stabilized her. Felt the other members of the family join in—Katie muting Cameron’s metaphysical yell. Gathered it all up and directed it, through her music, into a ring of protection around the park.
Part of the ritual but not in it.
An insider voluntarily on the outside.
A necessary difference to keep the family safe.
All right,
she told the universe as she fed more power into the surrounding fourth circle, stretched it up to include Jack,
I get it.
she told the universe as she fed more power into the surrounding fourth circle, stretched it up to include Jack,
I get it.
After ritual, the family always ended up at Jonathon Samuel Gale’s house out in Mount Royal. It hadn’t actually been his house since Jack had eaten him, but the name had stuck. When he’d molted, back in the winter, Jack had curled up in the enormous room in the basement where his father had once displayed magical artifacts. With a four-year-old in the house, the artifacts had been prudently locked in the vault.
“Because the last thing we need is for Lyra to get her hands on the cross section of the thigh bone of the last True Hero, that’s why!”
Jack could think of plenty of things Lyra could grab that’d be worse, but he’d tucked his tail under his body and kept his mouth shut.
There were three green plastic garbage bags of his shed scales in the vault now, too.
The thing he liked best about the house was the huge yard. Even with the pool/hot tub combo, enough open grass remained for him to land at full size. And Lucy’d said she wanted that tree down, so he’d really just done her a favor.
Charlie, smelling like sex, sprawled on one of the lounge chairs by the pool, and looked up as he stepped onto the stone edging although she had to have heard him land. “Where have you been?”
“Grabbed a bite before I came back.”
“Do I want to know?”
He shrugged. “It had a sore hoof and the heat was just going to make it worse and there were so many, he’d never miss one.”
“And would be unlikely to blame a dragon if he did.”
Jack shrugged again, shoved her feet aside, and sat down on the end of the lounger. Charlie’s attitude toward his meals was totally better than Allie’s. “What’re you doing out here?”
“Thinking. With you coming east, I’m going to need my car.”
He couldn’t see how it could have taken her very long to come to that decision. He couldn’t exactly fly around after her; that was the kind of thing people eventually noticed. “Okay.”
“And you need to not spend three hours in Toronto with Auntie Jane.”
Without even trying, Auntie Jane was as scary as Auntie Carmen and Auntie Gwen and Auntie Bea put together. Although Auntie Bea could be pretty scary on her own.
“So,” she continued, “I was thinking of alternative ways to get you and the car to Nova Scotia.”
“Drive.”
“I need to be there by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Drive really fast.”
“Tempting, but still impossible. I thought I’d try taking it through the Wood.”
“It?”
“The car. And you.”
“You can’t get me through the Wood. Size matters.”
“But you’ll be in the car and the car is mostly steel and steel is mostly iron and surrounded by iron, you’ll be diminished. Metaphysically speaking.”
He poked the bottom of one bare foot, adding just enough heat that she jerked away. “You’re totally bullshitting.”
“Yes, I am. But it should still work. And watch your language, Allie doesn’t like you swearing.”
“Bullshit isn’t a swear. It’s what comes out of a bull.” When Charlie continued to hold his gaze, he sighed. “Fine. But if a car is mostly iron, you can’t move it through the Wood.”
“I’m not Fey, you are. And the car’ll be moving on its own, I’ll just be steering.”
“Still something that comes out of a bull.”
“Still not arguing. Should still work.
“But you’ve never done it.”
“I used to think about doing it with
Dun Good
’s bus.”
Dun Good
’s bus.”
“But you’ve never done it.”
She grinned. “First time for everything.”
Jack studied her grin and suddenly missed not knowing if he’d live until dark. It was a weird feeling; he hadn’t been that homesick for months. “Okay, then, let’s do it.” He glanced at the house. The smell of sausages and pancakes wafting out of the enormous kitchen covered the scent of who was up. “And let’s do it before Allie stops us,” he added.
“You think she can stop me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Duh.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. But we’ll go tomorrow morning. Two reasons,” she added before he could protest. “One, I’m starving and two, there’s stuff to sort out after ritual and I don’t want to leave it all to Allie. Oh, and nice work with the helicopters, by the way. The UFO thing was inspired.” Surging up onto her feet, Charlie grabbed the pool net and started fishing her clothes out of the water.
“Why are . . . never mind.”
“Did you charm them?” Jack whispered as Charlie closed the apartment door and locked it.
“Nope. I wore them out.” She gestured with the bulging plastic bag stuffed full of jeans and sweaters and he started down the stairs. “It’s a good thing they’re used to you slipping out for an early flight because you can’t sneak for shit. What did you do? Raid the refrigerator?”
The tips of his ears, all the skin she could actually see from three steps up, flushed pink. “Aunt Mary sent another peach pie.”
“And you wanted one last piece.” Understandable, Allie’s mother made great peach pie with a minimum of charms.
Have a good day. Stay safe. A few grandchildren would be nice before I’m too old to enjoy them.
Fortunately, that last one was aimed specifically at Allie. “Maybe I should go back and get . . .”
Have a good day. Stay safe. A few grandchildren would be nice before I’m too old to enjoy them.
Fortunately, that last one was aimed specifically at Allie. “Maybe I should go back and get . . .”
The pink darkened.
“You ate the whole pie?”
“I was hungry, and she’s not going to be sending peach pies to . . . That’s weird.” Jack paused and stared at his reflection, moving his head closer to the glass then away again.
“Your pigeon impression? Is weird?” she added when he shot her a look dripping with teenage scorn.
“No, this!” He made the move again as Charlie stopped beside him.
She rolled her eyes. “Ah yeah, the 3D thing again. Hate it.”
“I’ve never seen it do this before.” Stepping back as far as the narrow hall allowed, he made a few of the martial arts moves that seemed to be hardwired into the teenage boy genome, then charged forward. “Cool. It’s like I’m coming out of the glass.”
Charlie grinned. “The fact that you’re so easily amused will probably come in handy later.” Crossing behind him, she opened the door leading into the store—she’d parked out front, knowing they couldn’t sneak past the loft and Auntie Gwen. She stepped out into the Emporium, stopped cold, and stepped back. “Say that again.”
Jack shrugged, grabbed for his hockey bag as the strap slid off his shoulder, and said, “It’s like I’m coming out of the glass.”
“It’s like you’re coming out of the glass,” Charlie repeated. Her fiddler ran through the first few bars of “Smash the Windows” but only because “It’s About Fucking Time” had never been put to music. She pushed past Jack, back to the mirror, where fireworks were going off around her reflection. “I’m an idiot.”
“Okay.”
“Not talking to you.” Leaning forward, she exhaled against the glass and drew a charm in the condensation. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was so slow.”
“You just apologized to an inanimate object,” Jack pointed out as she turned.
“Auntie Catherine is coming in through the mirrors when she goes after the sealskins. That’s why I couldn’t find any evidence of charms; they’re all on the other side of the glass. The mirror, this mirror, has been trying to tell me that since she started, but I didn’t get it.”
“You are an idiot.”
Charlie cuffed him on the back of the head. “Come on, kid, we’re going to be heroes.”
“You ready?” Charlie flexed her fingers over the strings and angled the headstock a little more toward the roof of the car giving her better coverage over the sound hole and making it less likely she’d clip Jack in the ear at an incredibly inopportune moment.
“Not really.”
“Loosen up on the steering wheel, I can smell burning plastic.”
“This is crazy.”
“Three hours with Auntie Jane.”
“Okay.” Jack drew in a deep breath.
“Ease off the clutch as you give it a little gas.”
“I know!”
Of course he did. Teenagers knew everything.
The car jerked forward.
“A little more gas.”
“I know!”
They roared down the street toward the riverbank, the car demanding a higher gear.
“Now, into second.” Charlie’d covered the car with the necessary charms—where necessary meant every charm she could think of that might work. “You’re doing great. Now, third.” She braced herself against the dashboard just in time. “Okay, that was first, not third. Remember the H shape.”
Unfortunately, when she’d come up with the idea of taking the car through the Wood, she’d forgotten she wouldn’t be able to drive it. Still, how hard could it be for a Dragon Prince/Sorcerer/Gale to master a crash course in driving a standard shift?
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