Magic at the Gate (31 page)

Yeah, I knew the feeling.

“Want me to carry you?” he asked.

Yes. No. Yes.

No. I told him I could stand on my two feet, and I would. No matter how tired and hurt I was. I didn’t waste breath or strength answering him. I pushed myself up onto my feet. He held his hand out for me. I took it. There was no amount of pride that would save me from looking like a fool if I ended up falling flat on my face.

Even the low light of dawn made my eyes hurt. But Zayvion gathered me to him, and I wrapped my arms around that ratty coat of his, clutching the back of it in my fists so he couldn’t disappear, fall away, go away again. I held him, alive and whole, against me and inhaled the pine scent of him, peppered by his sweat. He was too thin beneath those layers, thin enough that I could feel the tremble of exhaustion in his muscles.

Didn’t we make a pair?

“I haven’t seen that since Mikhail ran the show,” Hayden said. “Very, very nice, Beckstrom. Not even a Hound would think there was anything magical going on here.”

“The gate is Closed,” Victor said with grudging admiration. “As you said it would be. So, too, the well.”

“The Veiled?” Terric asked. “Is there a time limit on the disks? Will they simply run out of magic and stop living?”

“I don’t know,” I said, turning my face to the side so I wasn’t talking into Zayvion’s chest. “Dad sort of . . . blacked out or something.”

“It won’t matter,” Victor said. “We won’t let this sit that long. A day, maybe two. The Lock will hold until then; it’s ingeniously fed from the latent magic in the river and soil. The Veiled are held in a stasis. A long sleep. It’s very . . . poetic.” There was that admiration again. “Maeve, is there still an Aversion set up at the top of the road?”

“It’s underground, but we can trigger it,” she said tiredly. “It should keep the curious away for a week at least. I can say the inn is undergoing inspections. I’ve already called the staff and told them they have a paid vacation for two weeks.”

These people thought of everything. But then if you ran a business and practiced secret magic on the side, you’d pencil in some time for disaster planning.

The crunch of tires over gravel made me groan. I didn’t know who was coming, hoped it wasn’t Stotts, but figured there was no way I would get that lucky. We had just thrown a god-awful amount of magic around.

“Allie?” Victor said.

I pulled away from Zay, not too far, and squinted over at him.

Nik sat on the ground, his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. Whatever spell had caused him pain was gone now, but he was covered in blood and bruises and burns. Sunny didn’t look much better, but the blood was wiped off her face, and she was conscious. None of us had come out of this unscathed. I’d never seen so many magic users look so exhausted, bloody, and bruised. I wondered where the doctor was. Wondered if anyone had called 911.

But the noise, the car—correction, cars—coming down the driveway, were not Stotts and his crew.

Four cars stopped. And out of the lead car stepped Davy Silvers.

“Heard you’d need a ride to someplace safe. We have food, beds, and Dr. Fisher standing by at the den.”

Three other doors opened. Sid, Jamar, and Jack all stood next to their cars.

My Hounds. Come to the rescue.

None of the Authority stepped forward. I could tell Victor was weighing the options of the situation. We all still had our weapons out, and were clearly wounded from magic. Four Hounds meant four people to Close. I didn’t know if all the Closers combined had enough energy to put themselves to that task.

Screw it. If there was one kind of person who knew how to keep their mouths shut, it was the Hounds. My Hounds, at least.

I tugged free from Zayvion. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use a cup of coffee. Davy, Jamar, Sid, Jack, I’ll make introductions of all my friends once we get to the den, if that’s okay. You will keep your mouths shut about all this, right?”

“About all what?” Jack asked. “I have room for four.” He opened the back door of his car.

“I can take six,” Jamar said.

That was all it took. We divided up into cars, Hounds helping the bloody, exhausted, dirty secret magic users into their cars.

Just as we turned around and headed back up the access road, I saw Pike, ghostly and pale, raise a hand in hello, or good-bye, before the sun crested the hills, and flooded the world with the gold, healing light of dawn.

Chapter Twenty-five

W
e traveled in a loose caravan to the den, skulking off to lick our wounds while the morning sun gave a nod to spring.

Zay and Sunny and Joshua were in the backseat. None of us said anything, and Davy didn’t ask anything. But once we reached the den, Get Mugged already bustling with traffic and energy, I looked over at him.

“Pike?” I asked.

“Yeah. Said you had a fight on your hands. Thought you might need our help. Sorry we got there too late.”

“Only four of you came? Where’s the love?” I said, trying, and failing, to make it sound like a joke.

Davy got it though. “We didn’t think it’d take more than four Hounds to handle anything you could throw at us.”

Joshua in the backseat chuckled. “I like your attitude. It’s wrong,” he said, his voice always more gentle than I expected. “But you have guts.”

Davy glanced in his rearview mirror. “I don’t think I’m the only one.”

He parked. It didn’t take long for us to shuffle into the elevators. Even I didn’t walk the stairs, though Shame made faces at me while we rode the elevator.

And just like Davy said, the Hounds had outfitted the den to receive wounded, to hold meetings, and to sleep. Every bunk was made and ready, the air smelled of garlic and bread and tomatoes, and I realized I was starving.

Casting magic, that much magic, made me hungry. But first, I wanted some meds to cut the pain.

“Dying of headache here,” I said. “Anyone got pills?”

A chorus of rattling filled the room as every Hound pulled out a bottle of pain pills. I started laughing. Bad idea. It made my head hurt worse, but I couldn’t stop.

Zayvion took my fingers and pulled me gently toward an open couch, and I sat. He flopped down next to me. Sweet hells, I had never been so tired. I leaned my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. Just for a minute.

I woke up when the doctor gave me a shot.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Same as I gave you earlier. Should take care of the headache. And anything else.” I caught a quick glimpse of the needle she’d used. It was glyphed, and made of finely turned glass. I bet the needle itself was silver and some kind of spell was worked into the molecules of the drug.

The relief was almost instant. I was still sore, the burns on my arms, side of my neck, and chest still tender, and I knew my body was still enduring a lot of pain, but it was down somewhere around hurt instead of agony.

“That’s so much better already. Thanks.”

“I’ll send you my bill.” She stood, taking one of those old-fashioned black doctor bags with her as she moved across the room to talk with Victor, who sat with Maeve, Hayden, and Jamar on the other set of couches.

It was an odd mix in the room as the Hounds and the Authority felt each other out. I couldn’t think of two more suspicious groups of people, but the general atmosphere was that of friends and business acquaintances getting together to catch up.

Jack had even started a card game with Joshua, Carl, La, and Bea, who caught me looking and gave me a smile. The Georgia sisters were curled up on bunks against the far wall, their hair wet, like they’d had a chance to use the shower. Sunny was sitting on a stool in the kitchen, wearing one of Davy’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, her hair wet and a hell of a bruise blooming against the milky white of her skin. She sipped from a mug, watching Davy make a grilled cheese sandwich like she’d just discovered someone she never wanted to look away from.

Shame and Terric were not in the poker game as I would have expected, but were both asleep on couches, one bruised, finger-burned arm over their eyes, one foot on the floor. They even both snored softly in the same rhythm. Shame had a blanket pulled over his hips and chest. It was amazing that none of the Hounds seemed curious about the crystal in his chest, or more likely, they just couldn’t sense it.

The elevator pinged, and I glanced over.

Grant, the owner of Get Mugged, walked through the door, two coffee carriers in his hands and two bags filled with scones.

“Espresso, mocha, latte, and raspberry sweet-cream scones,” he called out. “Help yourself, everyone.” He plunked the goodies down on the counter in the kitchen, gave me a wag of his finger, and I raised my hand in a wan hello. He probably would have strolled on over to me in his cowboy boots if Davy and Sunny hadn’t caught his attention and started a conversation with him.

No, I had no idea what to do with my nice, nosy, nonmagical buddy being here among the Hounds and secret magic users, but hey, he brought coffee, and anyone who brought coffee, especially Get Mugged’s coffee, was okay by me.

I knew there used to be Hounds who worked for the Authority. Back when Mikhail was the head, before he had died. I didn’t think things were better with the two groups being separate. Yes, there was the whole secret-society stuff, but a lot of the Hounds had worked for Stotts, and never gone around telling people there was a secret police force that investigated magical crime. They could be trusted, if not with all the truth, certainly with some of the truth.

I thought of Grant as that kind of person too.

My mind chased the possibilities of Hounds and coffee shop owners and magic for a while and finally ended on Mikhail. And I remembered my dad had told me—maybe in a dream?—that Sedra had killed Mikhail. I wondered if the Authority knew that. I would ask about it, but not yet. Not here. Right now I wanted food and a shower, and some kind of assurance that the Veiled weren’t going to break out of the Lock my dad had set.

Which meant I needed to talk to Victor, Maeve, or Hayden.

I took a deep breath, getting ready to stand.

“Where are you going?” Zay’s eyes were closed, his long legs stretched out, heels resting on a footstool.

“Business. Coffee. Food. Shower. In that order.”

He grunted but didn’t move. Frankly, I didn’t know how he was still awake. I stood, caught a glimpse of Grant playing cards. He had settled down next to Nik, and the two of them were laughing. He must have felt me looking at him. He glanced up, gave me a wink.

Huh. Maybe there was more than friendships being made today.

I walked over to Victor and Maeve. Everything hurt, even the bottoms of my feet, but nothing was broken, and hey, in the good-news department, I hadn’t lost any memories after a major magic tussle.

Go, me. Maybe I was getting good at this secret magic thing.

“How’s it going?” I asked. I wanted to sit, but the next time I sat, I wasn’t going to get up for days.

“Good,” Jamar said. “Want some privacy?”

Oh yeah, Hounds. They were perceptive like that.

“If you don’t mind.”

He smiled and pushed his glasses back on his nose. “Not a problem with me, bossman.” He stood. “Pleasure meeting you all.” He walked off and gave me an approving nod. I had no idea why.

“How are you doing, Allie?” Maeve asked.

“I’m okay, I think. Are we good?”

“The inn will stay closed,” Maeve said. “The spell locking it down is . . . ” She frowned. “Remarkable. Especially for who cast it. That kind of spell is a variation of Hold. When it was being used, many years ago, it was called Cherish. The magic is organic, much like the roots of a tree, made of both light and dark magic, and will cling and hold any organic thing in a state of stasis until the Cancel spell is worked. We have security in place to let us know if any outside, or inside, force tampers with it.”

“There are some things we need to talk to you about,” Victor said so quietly I almost couldn’t hear him. I was positive the other Hounds couldn’t hear him either. “Jingo, Sedra, Leander, and Isabelle. I’ll want to talk to your father. But first we all need some rest.” That, he said louder.

He was good at this.

“The gates?” I asked.

“That’s the good news,” Hayden said, surprising me that he too, could keep his voice below Hound notice. “There hasn’t been a hint of a gate opening. We think the recent events put a plug in that for the time being.”

I stood there nodding. We weren’t out of the woods. There were a lot of unanswered questions about the solid Veiled, Jingo, Sedra, and how my dad knew that was Leander sending the Veiled to kill us. But for right now, this minute, we could rest.

I liked the sound of that.

“Are you staying? You’re welcome to,” I said. “I own the upper floor too, though there’s only one mattress up there.”

“No,” Victor said. “We’ll be going on our way. Each of us has . . . business to attend to.”

“Maeve?” I asked. She lived at the inn. Her home had fallen victim to the fight. “You need a place to stay?”

“Don’t worry about me. I have other property here in town, one with a lovely deep bathtub, a king-sized bed, and a change of clothes.”

I looked at Hayden. He raised one eyebrow. Then smiled at Maeve. “King-sized bed, eh?”

“The couch is open,” she said solemnly, even though she blushed. She was making the man court her proper-like. I highly approved.

“Looks like I’m set,” he said to me. “How about you?”

I didn’t know if he meant me and Zay, or me and Dad, or something else. “I’m going to take a shower, eat, and sleep. I’ll keep my cell phone on, though, if you need me.”

I started across the room slowly.

Victor spoke up. “Allie?”

I glanced at him.

“If you need us, for anything, never forget we are here for you. All of us. You have done amazing things to make this world a better place.”

That was really sweet. And sincere. And if I didn’t look away from his kind expression, I was just going to cry like a little girl.

“Wait until you see my encore,” I said. Then I walked into the bathroom behind one of the only ceiling-to-floor privacy walls in the big, pleasantly crowded loft.