Give the Devil His Due (The Sanheim Chronicles, Book Three) (46 page)

Quinn laid his hand on Kate’s arm.

“Don’t be too hasty, Kate,” he said.

Both Sanheim and Kate looked at him in surprise.

“I’ll make a deal,” he said.

“Quinn, no!” Kate said.

Sanheim had a smug self-satisfied look on his face.

“Hear me out,” Quinn said. “Here are my terms. You’re so scared of what’s out there? You surrender to us, kneel at our feet, and swear fealty to us in front of all your followers. Then we’ll work together to see if this council poses the threat you think it does.”

Sanheim could barely contain the look of hatred and rage that crossed his face.

“I bow before no man,” he said. “I am a god.”

“You’re a god who’s about to get his ass kicked,” Quinn said.

“No!” Sanheim scoffed. “I do not agree to your conditions. I will never bow to anyone.”

“Then it seems we have a failure to communicate,” Quinn said.

Sanheim appeared about to say something else and stopped. Instead he shook his head sadly.

“You have no hope, do you know that?” he said finally. “You’ll throw everything you have against me, but it will break over me like waves against a cliff. I have ruled for thousands of years. I am eternal. I will give you one last gift. I will show you what awaits you. It will be too late, of course. Your path is set. But you will finally understand your fate.”

Sanheim shoved his hand back and suddenly Kate and Quinn were in the air, flying rapidly over woods, fields and mountains. They came to a spot where they could see a huge castle standing on the edge of a cliff. On the field below it was an army so massive it made the earth shudder. The army was comprised of every nightmare Quinn had ever heard about, every scary story told to children. A horn rang out across the valley and they moved as one, marching forward.

Quinn couldn’t count their numbers. They were tens of thousands, maybe more. They were legion.

“When I blow that horn,” Sanheim’s voice spoke in their ears, “my armies will wash over you like a plague. They will slaughter everyone and everything in their path. Your world will burn, and you with it.”

Chapter 36

Kate and Quinn woke up with a start.

They were wrapped in each other’s arms, totally intertwined. Quinn wasn’t sure how long they’d slept.

Slowly and reluctantly, they pulled apart. Kate gave Quinn a brief kiss and stood up to pull on her discarded clothes. Meanwhile, Quinn closed his eyes and simply pictured himself wearing fresh, clean clothes and they appeared.

“Helluva dream,” he said.

“He just wants to scare us,” Kate replied. “The one thing he’s shown a proclivity for is mind games. He never expected us to join him. He just wants to rattle us and make us doubt why we’re fighting him.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Quinn said. “But I don’t know that the army he showed us was fake, either. I think it was real. Which means that no matter how many troops you brought with you, we are outnumbered.”

“We’re not finished yet,” she said, looking at him defiantly.

“Hey, nobody’s saying we are,” Quinn said, and he raised his arms in a mock gesture of surrender. “Honestly, I think we must have a fighting chance.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s working awfully hard to convince us we don’t,” Quinn said. “He’s hiding something — something big. I can feel it.”

“Such as?”

“If I knew that, I’d feel a lot better,” Quinn said. “There’s just… something doesn’t add up. I can’t put my finger on it, but he almost reminds me of Kyle in a way. The closer we get, the flashier he becomes. It’s as if he’s trying to distract us from something we should see, but haven’t.”

She shook her head.

“Hopefully it’ll come to us,” she said. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Quinn saw her mental check-list in his mind and jumped off the cot.

“I’ll talk to Buzz and Carol,” Quinn said quickly.

Kate rolled her eyes.

“You don’t want to talk to the wraiths?” she asked.

“They creep me out,” he responded.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “This from a man who turns into the Headless Horseman and has French-kissed a banshee.”

“In my defense, the banshee is really, really hot,” Quinn said, and kissed her again. It lasted for so long that they both had trouble pulling away.

“I want you to promise me something,” Kate said.

“Anything,” he responded, but he already knew the request. Of course he knew, it was one of her primary concerns.

“We split up now and make our plans, but when the battle comes, we stick together,” she said. “We were cocky last time. Because you were in my head, I never really worried about being separated. Now it’s all I worry about. I won’t lose you again.”

“What if…” he started.

“What if nothing,” she cut him off. “No matter what happens, we stay together. And that’s that. Okay?”

Quinn nodded. What else could he say? He had a feeling it was a promise they couldn’t keep. Battles were chaotic by their very nature. She frowned as the thought crossed his mind, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They left the tent holding hands.

*****

Quinn found Buzz, Carol and Janus sitting on a high hill overlooking the encampment. They were sitting around a small, wooden table, poring over a large piece of paper in front of them. Clinton Hatcher stood next to them, looking at the same paper. He looked up and saluted when he saw Quinn.

“Pleased to see you alive and well, sir,” he said.

Quinn smiled and nodded. The other three looked up. Janus grinned.

“And where have you been, mate?” he asked, leering dramatically at him.

“I’ve been sleeping with my girlfriend, thank you very much,” he replied.

“Not sure how much sleeping there was,” Janus responded.

“A bit more than I’d like, I’m afraid,” Quinn said and the smile dropped from Janus’ face.

“Sanheim paid you a visit?” Carol asked.

Quinn nodded.

“Say anything we ought to know?” Buzz asked.

“It was about what you would expect,” Quinn said. “Blah, blah, blah, my army is bigger than yours. Blah, blah, blah, I’m going to kill you all.”

“So the usual then?” Janus asked. “Always nice to hear the classics.”

Carol stood up abruptly.

“You could still go home,” she said. “It’s an option.”

Quinn waved his hand dismissively.

“The die is cast,” he said. “We’re at war.”

“We’ll win, sir,” Clinton piped in. “I can feel it.”

“Did you think that during the last war you fought in?” Janus asked. “Cause that didn’t turn out so well for your side, as I remember.”

Clinton gave him a cold look.

“Never mind him,” Quinn said, patting Clinton on the shoulder. “His people lost every war they ever fought in.”

“Hey!” Janus said.

“He’s right,” Buzz said. “The Welsh are known for their bravery, but not for their military successes.”

“We were overwhelmed,” Janus said. “And fuck off.”

“Right,” Quinn said. “Play time’s over. We need to head out. I trust you’ve worked out exactly where we’re headed?”

Buzz nodded and pointed at the paper in front of them. It was a detailed map drawn by hand. It looked vaguely like a map of Ireland, except where cities and towns should have been, there were other words Quinn didn’t recognize. The detail was amazing, however. Roughly where Dublin would be was a small drawing of a cornfield with “Halloweenland” inscribed above it. Quinn looked over to the west and saw a small picture of a mountain range with snowflakes. The words “Spider’s Lair” were written above that. He saw an X over the drawing of a large fortress, which was clearly Dun Cumhacht.

“Impressive,” Quinn said. “Where did you find this?”

“We made it,” Buzz said proudly. “We’ve been burning the midnight oil to get it done.”

“You made it?” Quinn asked. “How?”

“Well, Carol drew it,” Buzz said. “She knew the rough outline already. As for the details, Janus told her what to draw.”

Quinn looked over at his friend.

“How?” he asked. “How did you know all this?”

He pointed to the small drawing of a castle due north of them. “Dunluce Castle” was written above it.

Janus shrugged.

“I really don’t know, mate,” he said. “It’s like in the cornfield when we needed to know which way to go. I just… know somehow. I can’t explain it. When we started talking about it, it was like a picture in my head.”

“Like a picture…” Quinn said, and drifted off. He stared at Janus as if he hadn’t seen him in years.

“What?” Janus said, looking startled.

Quinn saw real concern in his eyes.

“You’re a photographer,” Quinn said.

“Yeeeeeessss,” Janus responded slowly, not following where Quinn was going. “And you’re a reporter. Is there a reason we’re going over this?”

Buzz slapped his hand down on the table.

“Yes!” he said. “It makes perfect sense.”

Even Carol was nodding.

“What?” Janus asked. “Did I miss something?”

“What does a photographer do? What’s his talent?” Quinn asked. “He sees the world. Just like you. In this case, literally.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “It can’t be that simple. If it were, Buzz would have the magical ability to know this world’s economy or something. He was the business editor.”

“For most people, it wouldn’t matter,” Quinn said. “But you’re different.”

“Why?” Janus asked skeptically.

“When were you born?” Quinn asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You were born on January 1,” Quinn said. “Do you know anything about your own name?”

“Yeah, my mum was an antiquities major,” Janus replied. “And since I was born on January 1, she named me after…”

Janus drifted off. He suddenly put his hands to the back of his head and seemed relieved when he found only hair there.

Quinn started laughing.

“I was with you and then I got lost,” Buzz said.

“I’m named after Janus, the Roman god of doorways,” Janus explained. “His feast day is January 1.”

“That’s why…” Buzz started.

“He can open doors that others can’t,” Quinn said. “Janus was the god of doorways and transitions, life and death. He was always pictured with two faces on his head, one looking forward and the other backward. He could see the past and the future simultaneously. He could see the paths of all people.”

“Come on, mate, that sounds crazy,” Janus said. “It’s just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence that you can open locked doors here without any problem while the rest of us can’t move them?” Quinn asked. “A coincidence that you can see the right path for us when it all looks the same to everyone else? A coincidence that you can map out a world you’ve never been to?”

“Yes?” Janus said, sounding more doubtful. “I’m not a god, I can tell you that. If I were, I’d have groupies. A lot of them.”

“Maybe not,” Quinn said. “But you are something special, at least here. Words have power. Nobody knows that better than a reporter.”

“So my name…”

“I don’t know,” Quinn said. “But it can’t be a coincidence. You came to us in a dream last year to warn us about Sawyer.”

“Sanheim told me to,” Janus said.

“Still, I wonder if that would have been impossible for others,” Quinn said. “You’re unique. I’ve always thought so. And I think you’re a good deal more powerful than anyone, including you, realizes.”

Janus knitted his eyebrows together in consternation and looked away.

“I hope you’re wrong,” he said after a moment.

“Why?” Quinn asked. “Why wouldn’t you welcome this?”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Janus sighed.

Quinn smiled at the comic book reference. He patted Janus on the back.

“You’re up to the challenge,” he said.

Janus gave Quinn a look, one that Quinn recognized from long ago. Janus wanted him to drop it. Quinn made a mental note to talk to him about it later.

“So I made a lovely map,” Janus said. “What’s next?”

Quinn turned his attention back to the map. He pointed again to Dunluce.

“Obviously, we need to get there,” Quinn said. “The question is, how soon can we be ready?”

Quinn looked at Clinton, who appeared to be waiting for that question.

“We’ll need someone to go fetch the scarecrows,” Quinn said. “We’re going to need everyone we can get.”

Buzz nodded.

“I thought as much,” he said. “I’m ready to move out when you give the word. It might be tight to reach you in time, but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Actually, Buzz, I was hoping Carol could go,” Quinn said, looking at them both. “I hate to ask, but…”