Eric ascended the stairs of The Place slowly, having left Lady Day well down the block—and invisible—when he saw the people gathered in front of the building. The sight of the open door disturbed him, and he could sense the residue of baneful magic in the air, but that was no reason to go rushing blindly into a trap.
He got to the top of the stairs. The room inside looked empty, but he could sense someone waiting just inside the doorway.
Someone familiar . . .
"Hosea?" he called. "It's me. Eric."
"Eric!" The big man appeared in the doorway and enveloped him in a crushing bear hug, lifting him off his feet. "Boy, am Ah glad to see you! Where've you been?"
"Underhill," Eric said briefly. "It wasn't exactly my idea."
Hosea set him down and studied him critically. "Well, you're looking a sight better'n you did the last time Ah saw you. Got your hair back, too."
Eric put his hand up to his head, feeling his hair. It was all shoulder-length again; he'd wondered about that, but he hadn't gotten around to asking anybody about it before he'd left Elfhame Misthold.
Oh. Brain injury. They must have shaved my head at the hospital.
"We've got trouble here," Hosea said gravely. "Kayla was here. An' she left in too much of a hurry to take her backpack. The place was like this when Ah got here."
Eric looked around at the deserted flop. It was never empty this early in the evening, as he remembered—and Jaycie, Magnus, and Ace didn't go out at night at all.
"And something was chasing her—or them—or someone that was here," Eric said, piecing things together. There it was again, the sense that he was forgetting something vitally important. "I wonder what it was?"
Now that he looked—really looked—at the traces of magic on the walls, he could almost make out the thing that had left them. He whistled a few bars of "The Rising of the Moon," calling up his Power, and suddenly the traces burned bright and clear again.
Elven magic.
Unseleighe magic.
Shadow Hounds. They were a magical creature specifically adapted for use in the World Above. Not much use Underhill, where the least breath of magic could sweep them away, but here, in the human world, they were deadly.
And Jaycie—
"That's what I was doing in the Park that day!" Eric burst out in alarm, remembering at last. "Jaycie's a Sidhe—I was trying to summon his Protector to take him home, but I called up Bloody Mary instead! I was so worn out from my battle with her that I walked right into that wolfpack of kids without noticing them until it was too late! That's what happened!"
"What—whoa—slow down—" Hosea said. "What does Bloody Mary have to do with these kids?"
"I don't know," Eric said. "I thought at the time I just dialed the wrong number, so to speak, but now I'm not so sure. What if Bloody Mary's Jaycie's Protector?"
Hosea shook his head, obviously thinking that Eric hadn't quite gotten over his knock to the head. "Then why ain't she Protecting him?" he asked, reasonably enough.
"I don't know. Maybe she's lost. He's sure lost. And slugging back Coke like there's no tomorrow—that's going to kill him—or send him into Dreaming at least, and I don't know what that would do to a Sidhe this far from a Node Grove. And now the Dark Court's looking for him, too—that's got to be it. We've got to find them—all of them!" Eric said urgently.
It was all coming together at last, and the picture it made wasn't a pretty one.
"If Kayla's with Magnus, and Magnus's with Jaycie, and Ace is with the lot of them, then find one, you'll find 'em all," Hosea said pragmatically. "Only how're you going to do that?"
"Now that I've been around them—and if Kayla's with them—maybe a Finding spell," Eric said hopefully.
Eric summoned up his magic again, but no matter how hard he tried—and even with Hosea lending his own Power to the Finding spell—he could gain no clear idea of their location.
After a few minutes, he gave up.
"No go. My guess is Jaycie's shielding them somehow, which means the four of them are together at least, but I have no idea where." He hesitated for a moment. "Look, Kayla probably has at least some idea of what that thing was that came after them. Where do you think she'd try to take them?"
"Maybe back to Guardian House," Hosea said, after a moment. "Nothing unchancy's going to be able to get inside. She'd know that."
"Or maybe Ria's apartment," Eric said. "That's got shields too, and Kayla's got the entry codes to get in even if Ria isn't there. We'll have to split up. You take Guardian House. See if they've made it back there. If they have, sit on them. And whatever you do, don't let Jaycie out of your sight. I don't know how much magic he's got, but what I do know is, if the Dark Court is hunting a Sidhe child, there's going to be big trouble.
"I'll take Ria's place. It's right on the Park, so I'm going to try calling up his Protector again. He or she has got to be here somewhere—or dead. Whatever shows up, I'll at least try to talk to it and explain about Jaycie."
"Risky," Hosea said consideringly.
"We've got to get him back Underhill before anything worse happens to him," Eric said. "And preferably without starting a war. If I can't find his Protector, I'll have to take him back through the Everforest Gate and dump a huge political hot potato right in Prince Arvin's lap, and that could be really awkward." In fact awkward doesn't even begin to describe it. . . .
"Let's get a move on, then," Hosea said.
"Here?" Magnus said in disbelief.
The four of them stood outside the lobby of Ria's building on Central Park South. Kayla sighed. Now came the tough part—not that getting them here had been easy.
"Your friend lives here," Ace said tonelessly. "And you were sleeping up at The Place."
"I said it would be a shock," Kayla said, keeping her tone deliberately neutral. "But those things can't get into her apartment. They shouldn't even be able to track you once you're inside. It's safe."
"Just tell us which one of us you were after, and we'll go in," Magnus said, smirking at her nastily.
Kayla felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the question she'd have asked in his place. The three of them were terrified, and finding out about Jaycie and then being chased out of The Place by demonic shadows had been a real shock, but none of them was stupid.
"Is that a promise?" Kayla said coldly.
"You said there's nobody there?" Ace asked, hedging.
"I'll ask before we go up, okay?" Kayla said.
"That's fair," Ace agreed, nervously.
"So," Magnus said.
"Do you promise?" Kayla repeated.
"Yes," Ace said, looking as if she was going to be sick.
"All three of you?" Kayla insisted.
"Let's go away," Jaycie said.
"Where?" Ace demanded. "With those things after you? Where can we go? We left all our stuff back at The Place, and I'm sure not going back for mine."
Finally—with Ace glaring at them—the other two grudgingly promised to go inside.
"I was looking for Magnus—but not because of his parents. For someone who's about as fond of his parents as he is. Someone who wants to keep him away from them at all costs. So Eric was trying to find you before that hotshot PI they hired did," Kayla said, speaking half to Ace and half to Magnus.
"Eric?" Magnus said blankly.
"Yeah," Kayla said. Might as well tell him the whole thing. "You've got an older brother, moron. He ran away from home before you were born—your 'rents tried to make a musical prodigy out of him, too, and he didn't like it either. So he finally goes back to see them, and finds out about you, and that you've bailed too, only you aren't eighteen like he was, and they're going to drag you back."
"So what— How come— Why—" Magnus stammered, flustered.
"Because he found out they hadn't told you about him, and he didn't think you'd believe him if he told you, and he was afraid you'd just run off again and get your ass in a sling. And now he's disappeared, and nobody knows where he is. And now these things are after us, and we're standing in the street where they can get at us. So will you come on?" Kayla snarled.
They went inside.
"Good evening, Ms. Smith," the security man said.
"Hi, Ramon," Kayla said, sighing inwardly. "Is Ria back yet?"
"No," Ramon said cheerfully. "But you can go right on up."
"Thanks," Kayla said. "They're with me," she added, waving in the direction of the other three. I hope.
She ushered the other three over to the penthouse elevator at the far end of the lobby and punched in Ria's code. The doors opened.
The kids hesitated, unwilling to get in.
"Come on, guys," Kayla pleaded, "I've been straight with you."
But she could tell that seeing the elevator—the penthouse elevator—and hearing Ramon greet her by name had been too much. She was losing them, losing even the fragile trust she'd been able to build.
Jaycie reached out—
A flash of light exploded in her face, and Kayla fell back, stunned.
Hosea got back to Guardian House in record time. The place was quiet. Kayla's apartment was empty—he still had her spare set of keys, so he checked it, just to be sure.
Eric's place was similarly deserted—he knew Kayla had the code to Eric's apartment—the upstairs apartments all had key-code pads instead of key locks—so she might have gone there.
Last of all he checked his own apartment. Maybe she'd called from a street phone.
She hadn't. But someone else had.
"Hosea? It's me. Caity. Oh, I wish you were there! Listen. Julie just called. There's something tonight—in a hour—up at Neil's place. Something big. And . . . I don't think I like it much. Hosea . . . Sarah's daughter Amanda's going to be there. She's only four. I just thought . . . I think . . . That can't be right, can it? Anyway, I just thought . . . But there isn't anything you can do. I wish—"
The answering machine cut off, and Hosea never did find out just what it was that Caity wished.
He knew, though. Clear and plain, in the silences and unfinished sentences of the answering machine message was one simple plea: Hosea—help me!
At last he had the freedom to interfere with Master Fafnir's group.
And it had come at the worst possible time.
He grabbed Jeanette and slung the strap of her carrying case over his shoulder, and ran downstairs to Toni's apartment.
Fortunately Toni was there. She opened the door at Hosea's frantic pounding, took one look at his face, and ushered him into the bedroom where they could be private. He could hear the television going in her living room, and knew that Raoul and Paquito, Toni's two young sons, were probably firmly ensconced in front of it at this hour.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Caity's called for help," Hosea said shortly. "Apparently this cult she's gotten tangled up in is throwing a big party tonight, and she says that they're bringing the four-year-old daughter of one of the members to it."
"That's bad," Toni said, making a face. "You know where?"
Hosea nodded. "And nothin' Ah can't handle. But Eric an' me are tangled up in another matter right up to our eyes too, an' Ah'd appreciate a little help there." Quickly, he laid out the details of what he and Eric had discovered earlier that evening up at The Place, plus what Eric had told him about what had happened up at Central Park a week before.
"Wait a minute," Toni said. "Eric thinks that Bloody Mary and this Elven Protector are the same thing? And he can call it up?"
"Ah don't credit it myself," Hosea said. "The first part, anyhow. But that he can call it up somehow, or that it's drawn to him somewise—that Ah believe."
"Well, then, at least we have a place to start. Finally," Toni said. "When the rest of this is over, we'll have to ask him for a demonstration, and get rid of her once and for all. Meanwhile—go. If Kayla and the other kids show up here, we'll grab them. I'll have Greystone keep a special eye out. And if any shadow-things show up, we'll be prepared."
Eric, riding Lady Day this time, returned to the place he'd originally cast his first spell. Lady Day's magical senses were a lot keener than his own, and the elvensteed would protect him from casual muggers—by Gating him to Underhill, if nothing else would serve. And if he actually was dealing with either a crazed Protector or something Unseleighe, he'd prefer not to risk any innocent bystanders being hurt when it showed up.
If it showed up.
This time, having some idea of what his Calling might summon, he took time to build defenses—serious defenses—around himself and Lady Day before he started. When he was done, the spell walls were almost visible to the unMagely eye, hanging in shimmering purple and green curtains around the two of them.
Eric summoned up his Flute of Air and began to play "God Bless The Child," wrapping his Calling spell around the melody—now there was an appropriate tune. He thought of Jaycie as he'd last seen him. Scared, and lost, and angry—and drugged on caffeine—surely somebody cared that he was missing? Surely somebody wanted him back?
Suddenly—just as before—the temperature dropped sharply and the dark night went darker. Just as before, Eric was surrounded by a howling storm of grief bordering on madness, but this time he'd come prepared, and his shields deflected the worst of it.
"I've seen him!" he shouted, hoping he was talking to the right person. "I've seen your charge! He's alive and well!" Not well exactly, not mainlining caffeine the way he was, but this was no time to equivocate or go into details.
Had he guessed right? Did the violence of the storm battering his shields seem to draw back, to lessen?
"He's somewhere in Manhattan!" Eric shouted. "The Dark Court has sent a Shadow Pack after him! You've got to find him before it's too late! I'll help you search, if you'll let me!"
And suddenly the storm was gone, without answering.
Cautiously Eric lowered his defenses, wary of further attack. But Jaycie's Protector—if it had been Jaycie's Protector—was truly gone.
Had he really accomplished anything, other than proving he could, indeed, summon the same being twice? Maybe. He wasn't quite sure—maybe he'd given hope where there'd been none before.
Or warned Jaycie's enemies that there was someone on their trail.
Though now that he came to think of it, a Shadow Pack was an odd weapon to send against one of the Sidhe. Even a very young Sidhe . . .
"Are you all right, Ms. Smith?"
Ramon was standing over her.
She was lying on the floor. Her head hurt where she'd banged it against the wall.
Jaycie had done . . . something.
When I get my hands on that elf-boy, I'm gonna tie his pretty pointy ears in knots, Kayla vowed furiously.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Slipped." Kayla struggled to her feet.
She looked around. The three of them were gone. Of course.
"Did you see . . . ?" she asked hopefully.
Raoul shrugged apologetically. "Just ran out of here like their tails were on fire. You sure you're all right?"
"Yeah. Kickin'." Kayla walked stiffly to the door of the lobby and looked out.
Nothing.
She rubbed the back of her head. She leaned back against the doorway, closing her eyes for a moment. This day had gone on way too long. Last night she'd been up at Gotham General, trying to put Eric back together. This afternoon she'd found out somebody'd stolen him. Then Ria told her that somebody might be after her. Tonight she found out Jaycie was an elf and somebody was after him. It'd been a busy day.
"Maybe you oughtta come over and sit down awhile," Ramon said, sounding anxious.
"I'm fine," Kayla said. "Really. Thanks." And I've got a killer headache. And I just realized I left my wallet up at The Place. Good-bye Visa card, cash, ID . . . My life is now officially perfect.
She still had her keys and her subway card, though. She could get back to Guardian House. Or she could go upstairs. Ria kept some cash there. She'd be a lot more mobile with that. She could call Hosea. Maybe her backpack was still up at The Place. Maybe—against all odds—they'd gone back there. He could check for her. And then she could take off after the kids.
She turned around and walked back into the building and called the elevator again.
Forget The Place. The shadow-things had scared them out of there and, like Ace had said, they wouldn't go back there. So where were they really likely to go? They'd be too paranoid to try to get into any of the shelters, it was too cold to try to sleep in the open—they'd be risking arrest anyway—and they knew they had those shadows chasing them—what had Jaycie said about that? Slow but sure? So they wouldn't want to stop and hole up anywhere for fear the things would catch up with them, just for starters.
The elevator doors opened and Kayla walked out into Ria's penthouse.
She'd spent a certain amount of time here when Ria had been moving in—funny how Ria hadn't wanted to take any of her decorating hints—so she knew where everything was. Her first stop was the guest bathroom, where she grabbed a bottle of Excedrin and made for the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice, and slugged down six Excedrin along with half a quart of OJ straight from the bottle.
Excedrin. Sixty mg. of caffeine per tablet. Another elf designer drug du jour.
She rummaged around Ria's refrigerator further—fully stocked with the latest weekly delivery from Balducci's, all untouched because Ria hadn't been here—until she located a carton of something that looked good. She grabbed a spoon and wolfed it down cold, barely stopping to chew. She grudged the wasted time, but Healing Jaycie had taken a lot out of her, and she knew she needed to recharge. She finished the orange juice and then went in search of the play money.
It was in a drawer in a desk in Ria's study—what Ria called "pizza money"; only a couple of hundred dollars. Kayla took it all, stuffing it into her jeans pocket.
Then she called Hosea. No answer. She slammed the phone down in disgust, not bothering to leave a message.
Looks like I'm on my own.
But where was she going to go? Where would they go?
They can't stop, not for more than a few minutes. So they have to keep moving. Subways won't work, because the trains always come back to the same place and the shadows might be smart enough to figure that out.
And they know—at least Ace and Magnus know—that New York isn't good for Jaycie. So they'll want to get him out of here.
So that leaves train or bus, to get out of the city. And bus is cheaper, and stops in more out of the way places.
"Next stop, Port Authority Bus Terminal," Kayla said. And hope I'm right.
"What did you do to her?" Ace demanded, when they finally stopped running.
"Nothing," Jaycie said. "Just . . . nothing. A little shove. But we had to get away. I don't trust her. She was lying."
"She had to be lying," Magnus said, sounding desperate. "I can't have a brother! And for it to be . . . Eric? It doesn't add up. He'd have to be, like, old, and that guy wasn't. Not that old, anyway."
"Well, we can't go back there now," Ace said pragmatically. "So where are we going to go? I've still got Jaycie's money." At least we have that much.
"And I can get more," Jaycie said positively.
Ace pulled them into the shelter of a doorway and dug out her wallet. It was thick with cash. She counted it quickly, and blinked at the total she arrived at. Almost a thousand dollars.
Where could they go? Big cities were best—nobody looked twice at you in a big city. But maybe all big cities would make Jaycie sick. And people were looking for all three of them, she knew that now. Whatever else Kayla had lied about, she didn't think she'd been lying when she'd said Magnus' parents were looking for him. And Magnus seemed to think they were, too.
Move now. Think later.
"Come on," Ace said wearily.
Eric had gone to try to reach Jaycie's Protector first for two reasons—one, if it had worked, it would have simplified everything and given him a powerful ally. And two, it would have been much more difficult—and possibly dangerous—to cast the spell with the kids in tow, assuming he'd actually caught up with them at Ria's.
But now Eric wondered if he should have skipped that step. Even with Lady Day to get him around the city quickly, he'd lost valuable time. And the windows of Ria's penthouse were dark.
Still, checking to see if someone was there—or had been there—would only take a minute or two.
He parked Lady Day in the yellow "no stopping, standing or breathing" zone in front of the building and walked in.
"Hi, Ramon. Anybody home?"
"Hi, Eric. Good to see you again, sir." It had taken Eric weeks to get the staff of Ria's building to use his first name, because he loathed being called "Mr. Banyon." He still couldn't get rid of the "sirs," though. He supposed that was part of what most of the tenants in a place like this paid for.
"Ms. Llewellyn's still away, and you just missed Ms. Smith. She was here for a few minutes with some friends of hers. They didn't stay. And she left about half an hour ago," Raoul said helpfully.
There was something odd about the way he put it. They didn't stay . . . she left . . .
"Were they together when she left?" Eric asked, on a hunch.
"Oh, no, sir," Ramon said. "They left, and Ms. Smith went on up to the penthouse alone."
That didn't make any sense. Ramon had to mean that Kayla had been here with Magnus, Ace, and Jaycie. But if they'd split up, he ought at least to be able to locate Kayla now.
"Thanks, Ramon. Have a good evening."
He went back out to Lady Day and mounted, letting the elvensteed find her way out into traffic again.
"Let's find Kayla!" he shouted over the noise of her engine, and felt the elvensteed's eager assent.
They caught up to the taxi at a light.
Kayla was sitting inside—alone—hunched forward on the seat, looking cross. Eric leaned over and knocked on the passenger window.
She glanced up—angry, startled, not recognizing him at all, even though he'd taken the obvious precaution of removing his helmet so she could see his face. Then her expression cleared into one of utter relief and delight, and she made a grab for the door.
At that moment, the light changed and the taxi pulled away.
Eric followed, watching the silent pantomime of Kayla arguing with the driver, but it was another several blocks before the man managed to find a hole in traffic and pull over. He pulled up just behind the cab and dismounted from Lady Day once more. She balanced, rather smugly, on her two wheels, but he didn't worry about anyone noticing, not right now. If anybody saw, they'd probably just think it was some new kind of motorcycle. New Yorkers were notoriously unflappable. They took pride in it. Unsinkable, unflappable New Yorkers.
Kayla flung herself at him and hugged him hard.
"Oh, Jesus, Banyon, where've you been?" She pulled back and punched him in the arm. Hard. "We were worried half to death. I thought Ria was going to lose it big time. You better call her if you want to live. And . . . nice hair." She grinned, reaching out to flip his hair back over his shoulder.
"First things first," Eric said. "There's an Unseleighe Shadow Pack after Jaycie. He's—"
"An elf. Yeah, I got that part. I Healed him up earlier this evening an' he dropped the moonlight and roses long enough for Ace and Magnus to see what he really looked like. And then this dark stuff started boiling out of the walls and we ran like hell. That's the short version. I tried to get them to Ria's, on account of it's being shielded there, but they wouldn't go for it. Almost did. But at the last minute, the elf-boy knocked me on my ass with a light show and they bolted."
Eric winced. "Any idea where they're headed?"
"I'm guessing Port Authority. They know they gotta keep moving because of the Shadows, an' I told them the city's making Jaycie sick, and I think Ace believes me."
"Come on then," Eric said.
Port Authority Bus Terminal, at Ninth Avenue and Forty-Second Street, on the western end of Times Square, was open 24 hours a day. It had been built in 1950, and gotten a multimillion dollar overhaul that had finished at the end of 2001. The terminal itself covered five stories, plus a three-floor car park on the top level, and on a typical day, 200,000 people used it. It was big, sprawling, and complicated, and over thirty bus lines called it home. Not an easy place to search, even at this time of night, with most of the place shut down.
Eric left Lady Day outside the main entrance, not bothering to park—the elvensteed could fend for herself, and move if she needed to.
They went inside.
"We'll check the ticket windows first," Eric decided, looking around. "They might still be buying their tickets. Then the gates."
"Sounds like a plan," Kayla said doubtfully.
"Best we've got," Eric said grimly. "I just hope they're here—or it's back to square one, and we're running out of time and choices."
"Which one?" Magnus said, as they walked into the bus terminal. He'd been here once before—on his way down from Boston, but he hadn't been paying a lot of attention then.
"Greyhound," Ace said decisively. "It goes the most places, and we can get off at any of the stops if we see someplace we like. Come on."
She led the other two over to the ticket window and studied the list of destinations critically. Miami. That was good. Three one-way tickets would only be a little over three hundred dollars. Miami was a long way from New York. And at least it would be someplace warm.
She told the clerk her destination, hoping nothing would go wrong. It seemed to take a long time to print out the tickets. The clerk told her the gate number, and added: "You'd better hurry. It's a long way to the gate, and the last bus for tonight leaves in half an hour. Next one won't be until tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, ma'am," Ace said politely. She turned around to hand the tickets to the boys.
And stared.
Magnus was right there, looking bored and irritated.
But Jaycie was gone.
She grabbed Magnus by the arm and hustled him out of earshot of the ticket agent. By now Magnus had realized that Jaycie wasn't with them, and was looking around wildly.
"Where is he?" Ace hissed.
"I just—"
"Well, find him!" As an afterthought, she thrust Magnus' ticket at him, precious little good it was going to do him now, since certainly neither of them was going to leave without Jaycie. She looked up and down the concourse. It looked like the world's largest shopping mall, even with half the places closed up for the night. Jaycie was nowhere in sight.
"You check down that way—I'll go this. We'll meet at the gate in half an hour. That's when the bus is supposed to leave. If we've got him, we can go. If not, we can keep looking for him together."
"What if he just . . ." Magnus said, and stopped. Neither of them wanted to be the first to say it. What if he's just run out on us?
"He wouldn't do that," Ace said, but there was no certainty in her voice. "He needs us." We need him. Jaycie . . .
She turned away, starting to run.
His head hurt. He was sick. And everything was going wrong. He wanted chocolate. He wanted Coca-Cola. And most of all, he wanted it to be yesterday, before that Healer girl had come back and spoiled everything with her tales.
Jaycie wandered through the terminal, looking into the barred windows of the closed shops. What he wanted was in there, but he couldn't get in. Simple locks were no problem, and he could charm nearly anyone he met into giving him anything, but these doors were sealed with bars of steel, and there was no one about to charm.
All he wanted was a few cans of Coca-Cola. And some chocolate. He didn't feel at all well without it. And it would be hard to talk Ace and Magnus into letting him have them now. They might actually believe the Healer girl had been telling the truth. And he wasn't completely sure of his ability to convince them otherwise.
He'd go back to the others once he had what he needed. And maybe he could talk them out of leaving the city. The Healer girl—who knew far too much about Jaycie's kind—had said this was a safe place, a place the Sidhe didn't come. They should stay here.
But the Shadow Hunt was here. So that meant this place wasn't safe either. But who would send a Shadow Hunt after him? It made no sense.
Then he saw bright lights up ahead, and a familiar logo, and forgot all about the Shadow Hunt. He couldn't read the languages of the World Above, but he knew its symbols very well.
Coca-Cola.
"There he is." Kayla's voice was a low whisper. She nudged Eric and pointed.
She'd had the advantage—at least she'd known what the kids were wearing when they'd started running. That made Magnus easy for her to spot.
She and Eric slid over to him.
Knowing what he now knew—that it had been Jaycie's magic he and Ria had sensed in the beginning, not Magnus', Eric was free to cloak himself and Kayla in an invisibility spell, so they were able to approach Magnus unseen. He might not have noticed them anyway; he was alone, walking quickly through the Terminal, obviously searching desperately for something or someone.
"Miss me?" Kayla said, stopping in front of him just as Eric dropped the spell.
To Magnus, it must have seemed as if she'd appeared out of nowhere. He staggered backward, and bumped into Eric.
The boy had fast reflexes. He gathered himself to bolt just as Eric grabbed his arm, and between Jaycie's true appearance and the Shadow Hunt, he'd seen enough strange things tonight not to waste time boggling at inessentials. He struggled for a moment, but Eric was stronger than he was—and had the advantage of having been trained in swordplay Underhill besides. That put muscle on you.
When Magnus realized he couldn't break Eric's grip, he stopped fighting.
"I'll scream," Magnus threatened.
"Call the cops," Eric pointed out reasonably, "and you go straight back to Boston."
Magnus shut up as if he'd been gagged.
"Where are Ace and Jaycie?" Kayla demanded.
Magnus remained stubbornly silent.
"Look," Eric said. "I don't want to send you back to Boston. I want to help you."
"Yeah, she already told me you're my brother. I don't believe it," Magnus said flatly.
Stalemate.
Where would he go? Ace wondered desperately, running through the half-empty terminal. Suddenly Kayla's words earlier came back to her—about Jaycie being a junkie, kind of, hooked on Coca-cola. She remembered how he'd drunk it practically every moment he was awake, back at The Place, going through two or three six-packs a day.
He hadn't had any all night.
She looked around for the nearest security guard and ran over to him, taking a deep breath and trying to look calm.
" 'Scuse me, sir, could you tell me what's open to get something this time of night? Just candy bars or Cokes?"
He thought about it for what seemed a maddeningly long time.
"Well, not much this time of night. There's Hudson News—there's one up on Third Floor North, but I think that's closed this time of night. The one on Second should be open, though. There's a map right over there."
"Thank you!" Ace said. She hurried over to the map. There it was, smack in the middle of a bunch of other shops, as many as a mall. She got her bearings, and headed for it at a dead run.
Jaycie stood in front of the cooler at the back of the newsstand, happily chugging down Coca-Colas. He drank three immediately, and felt much better. He tucked another six into the pockets of his parka for later, set the empty cans back into the cooler, and turned to walk out of the kiosk.
"Hey—you gonna pay for those?"
Jaycie smiled—it had always worked before—and wished very hard that the man would just let him walk away. But he was a little dizzy from the sudden rush of caffeine—his system wasn't as used to it after the Healing as it had been before—and the man only frowned.
"You gotta pay for those, you know," the man repeated. Not angry, but not letting Jaycie walk away, either.
Jaycie took an uncertain step backward. He didn't have any money. He'd given all of it to Ace. Should he run?
Slowly the lights began to dim.
There was a sudden blast of light down the concourse.
Eric's first thought—everyone's first thought these days—was: bomb!
Eric flung Kayla and Magnus to the ground, throwing up as much of a shield over all of them as he could in that instant. But the seconds passed, and there was no shock wave, no fireball, no rain of debris. He looked up, abruptly sensing the currents of Sidhe magic.
There was an Elven Warrior in the Main Concourse of the Port Authority Bus Terminal.
She was tall, wearing full battle armor that gleamed bright silver, a long blue cloak hanging from her shoulders. With a gleaming two-handed broadsword she was swinging at shadow-things that boiled and snapped around her, half smoke, half dog. She'd already pretty much demolished the newsstand. Alarms were going off—Eric could hear them—and in moments police and security would arrive.
He hauled himself up off Magnus and Kayla and went running toward her.
The Shadow Hunt had found them. Jaycie turned to run. There was no time to argue, to even try to cast a glamourie, or to try to sweep the Shadows back into the Overworld. He had to find the others and run before it was too late.
Then the world exploded in a flash of light, and she was there. She'd found him and she'd take him back, to all the terrible things he'd fled from.
He ducked away from her and fled in the only direction left. The man behind the counter leaped out and began to pursue him, only to be knocked sprawling with one blow from his Protector's armored fist.
Suddenly the air was filled with bells. Mortal bells. Warning bells.
"Jaycie!"
Ace grabbed him. He struggled, but she clung to his jacket, and he could not throw her off without hurting her.
"She comes for me!" he cried in terror.
Ace turned to run, and found herself staring directly into the barrel of a security guard's gun.
They all started gathering together at Neil's about ten o'clock. Fafnir had picked tonight because it was his night off, and he wasn't sure how long this would take, especially if something really dramatic happened. It would be nice to have a good solid payoff after putting up with all their crap for a whole year and more. Sure, September 11th had helped—after that, everybody had wanted to believe that there were Secret Good Guys out there working behind the scenes to make everything better. But it was over a year since then. He needed to hammer them a little. Make sure he got some really nice Christmas presents.
With both the Inner and Outer Circles gathered, and no outsiders tonight—tonight he wasn't looking for new blood—there were almost two dozen people there. That number jammed Fafnir's own living room to the walls, but Neil's living room wasn't even really crowded. Fafnir felt the dull angry heat of resentment. Why should Neil live in a place like this just because he had that nice soft brokerage job, and Fafnir be crammed into that grubby downtown apartment, even if it was free? It wasn't fair. He deserved more. He was better than Neil, better than all of them. He was smarter. He had more imagination. He'd made all of this up. All the stuff about the False Guardians, and the True Guardian and the Secret Master, and the Inner Planes—he'd gotten some ideas from the comic books, and a little from what Andrew had told him, but most of it was his own idea. He was the one who deserved to be living like this, not a Wall Street drone like Neil!
Well, they'd see. After tonight, they would definitely see.
He saw Sarah come in with Amanda, and crossed the room to her, smiling warmly. Without little Amanda, he was pretty sure none of this would work. And it had to work.
"Sarah. Tonight will be a very special night—for all of us." He concentrated on turning up the charm. He needed Sarah to keep Amanda in line, if nothing else.
"Oh yes," Sarah said. She was carrying Amanda, and the girl's head lolled sleepily on her shoulder. Fafnir frowned.
"She was so fussy earlier," Sarah said apologetically. "I had to give her one of the pills her doctor prescribed. I didn't know what else to do. I would have gotten a sitter, but you said I really ought to bring her."
"It is necessary," Fafnir said austerely. Why couldn't the idiot bitch control her own daughter? Amanda wouldn't be any use to him at all if she was asleep! And he could hardly give her a couple of lines of blow to wake her up, even though he bet Neil had some stashed away around here somewhere.
"She'll wake up soon," Sarah said anxiously. "They're really mild."
"Of course," Fafnir said kindly. "Sarah, you know I do not like to interfere in the sacred bond between mother and child, but those of us with the Etheric Gifts are not quite as ordinary men and women, and drugs which are perfectly safe and even wholesome for others to take can have unfortunate consequences for us, shutting down—or even forcing open—senses that we try hard to discipline through constant effort. Forgive me for speaking, but Amanda and I have worked so long and hard together. . . ."
Sarah's blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Master, I'm so sorry! Forgive me—I didn't think—"
"It is Amanda whose forgiveness you should ask, Sarah, dear, not mine," he said gently, and moved on.
There. That should book that brainless meatbag on a nice guilt trip.
The last two to arrive were Caity and Juliana. Caity'd tried to say she couldn't come this evening, so Fafnir had sent Juliana down to pick her up. Caity was the fat little artist who'd come to the Open Party with that enormous hillbilly, and Fafnir had no intention of letting her get away. She was generous and—up until now—had been a fervent follower.
Why hadn't she wanted to come tonight? That was unusual, and he didn't like the sheep doing unusual things. It might mean they were trying to think for themselves. And he couldn't allow that, especially now.
Fafnir went over to the two of them, smiling beguilingly. Juliana—as usual—melted like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Usually Caity did too. But not tonight.
"Caity, dear girl. You look troubled." He took her hand and brought it to his lips. He would have kissed it, but she hadn't taken off her mittens yet. He settled for gazing commandingly into her eyes.
"I've been worried, Master Fafnir," she said softly.
"Child, you may always bring your deepest troubles to me. I will always hear them," he said. Finally he felt the last of her resistance dissolve, and suddenly he thought he could guess the reason behind her hesitation. "And after tonight, we will all be safe. That is why I wanted Amanda with us. If her mother is to be a target for the wrath of the False Guardians, how could I in good conscience leave her innocent daughter unprotected?"
Relief flooded Caity's face. "Is that why?" she said. "I thought—"
"You thought I would use the child as a mere tool. Oh, Caity—that is the action of our enemies, not my work," he said chidingly.
Caity blushed a deep scarlet, and Fafnir knew he had guessed exactly right. Stupid cow.
"Now come. Remove your outer garments, and prepare to take your places, so that the Great Work can begin."
In preparation for this evening, Neil had bought several cases of jar candles, and now he began setting them out around the edge of the room. Three large braziers—also bought new, to save the trouble of bringing the three up from Fafnir's apartment—were prepared and lit, and soon fragrant frankincense smoke began spiraling up toward the ceiling.
"It isn't going to stain anything, is it?" Neil asked anxiously.
"Shut up, Neil," Juliana said poisonously.
"Please," Fafnir said, raising his hand. "No anger now. We face enough anger from those who wish us harm."
His acolytes subsided, focusing all their attention on him, as was only right.
They were gathered in three concentric rings around him and Amanda. The two of them were in the center. Fafnir was seated in his favorite chair, his back to the window. The drapes were drawn. Amanda, still a little groggy, was seated on his lap.
On a small table before them stood the Eye of the Inner Planes, the only ritual item Fafnir had brought from his apartment. Around them were his acolytes, closely packed together, the knees of those behind against the backs of those in front of them.
"Now, Evan, turn out the lights, and we shall begin," he said.
One of the Outer Court acolytes in the outermost ring got to his feet and turned out the living room lights. Now the room was lit solely by the light of the ring of flickering candles. The crystal ball in the center of the circle seemed to draw that light to itself, glowing a lunar blue.
Fafnir sat there in silence for almost a minute, letting the months of conditioned response take effect. The darkness, the candles, the incense, the sight of the crystal ball, all had their effect. The room was absolutely silent, the closely packed group of people swaying slightly as they slipped into an entranced state.
"Concentrate, my young Guardians-to-be," Fafnir said. "Reach down into yourselves. Summon up the power that is within you. Call forth the Protector!"
"The Protector—the Protector—" they began to chant softly.
Amanda was drowsy enough that he hardly needed his pendulum to put her under this time.
"Look into the crystal ball, Amanda," Fafnir whispered in her ear, under cover of the soft chanting. "See the lady in the crystal ball? Remember the lady in the crystal ball? Call her. Bring her here."
And Amanda did.