Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood) (2 page)

But she’d gotten turned around since then, and none of the street signs looked familiar.

Anxiety started to build despite her efforts to stay calm, and she ran a hand through her hair as she stared at the crowds. She needed to find Cornelius. To do as Carter asked. And to hide until the Taliesin wizards went away.

If they went away.

An apprehensive noise escaped her, though no one paid it any mind. Checking the rooftops again, she bit her lip, and then dropped the magic around her.

The crowd buffeted her, the jarring interspersed with rare apologies. With a gasp, she dodged a bicyclist weaving through the throng, and then grabbed the arm of the first person she saw.

“Where can I find Clarkston Street?” she yelled over the honking of a car horn.

Tugging out of her grip, the old woman gaped at her and then scurried away. Ashe swallowed hard and then reached out, calling the question again.

“Clarkston?” a man answered distractedly, barely glancing at her past the cell phone pressed to his ear. “Maybe five blocks that way.”

“Thanks.”

He’d already forgotten her. Magic rising again, she took off through the crowd. Cars slowed as she raced across the street and horns blared from the vehicles behind. On their leashes, a pack of dogs in the care of a professional walker suddenly went berserk, causing minor chaos for several yards around.

Her eyes widened at the sight and then magic was rushing at her. Throwing herself to the concrete, she covered her head with her arms as the window of the pet shop next to her shattered. Gasping, she scrambled for her feet while people screamed and every animal in the store went mad.

Two Taliesin stepped from a storefront door ahead. Two more raced at her from behind.

She looked from them to the animals, and then leapt the jagged window frame and ran into the store. Grabbing wildly at the nearby cages, she yanked them down behind her, sending the rodents inside scattering. Confused and panicking, the clerks hurried from behind the counter to stop the escapees.

The stockroom door slammed into the wall as she burst past it and raced for the rear exit. Shoving the fire door out of her way, she hit the alley and kept going. Tearing across streets and down alleys between office buildings, she barely noticed the horns blaring at her back. Mustard-toned street signs flashed past, noted and swiftly forgotten.

Clarkston caught her eye. She skidded to a halt, scanning the street for addresses and wizards equally.

A desperate laugh escaped her. The apartment building she needed was right across the road.

The laugh threatened to become hysterical, and she choked it back. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. She was almost there.

She glanced around, and then darted across the street.

The wrought iron gate opened easily, its lock long since broken, and quickly she slipped through. A shadowed archway waited beyond and led to a courtyard at the heart of the apartment complex. Sticking close to the wall, she hurried along the tunnel and then paused at the end, eyeing the empty courtyard. A mosaic of tile crisscrossed the floor, its colors scuffed and faded by years of foot traffic, and ironwork fences ringed the galleries of the hallways above. A breeze twisted down from the open air roof, stirring the potted plants and carrying the faint sounds of daytime television.

Shaking with fading adrenaline, she glanced to the nearby apartment numbers and then headed for the stairs. Metal creaked beneath her feet as she climbed, sounding loud in the quiet. At the third floor she paused, catching sight of the apartment number at the end of the walkway.

Her hand lingered on the metal rail, and after a moment’s hesitation, she forced herself to let it go. Gun clutched in her other hand, she started down the hall.

A door opened behind her and she spun, the weapon coming up instantly.

Oblivious to the gun-wielding girl only a couple feet from his doorstep, a scruffy young man with a backpack on his shoulder and a mug of coffee in his hand let the door slam as he left his apartment. Whistling inanely, he trotted down the steps and headed out of the courtyard.

Her hand shook as she lowered the gun. Drawing an unsteady breath, she watched the empty archway for a moment, and then turned back toward the end of the corridor. Gun still clenched in her grip, she strode to the door and knocked.

Silence answered her.

She trembled. Ordering herself to stop shaking, she knocked again.

Nothing.

Her gaze dropped to the door handle. Hesitating briefly, she reached down and pressed it.

The door swung open at her touch.

She exhaled, her fingers adjusting themselves on the gun automatically. Still shivering, she slid through the opening.

The apartment was dark and a mottled cloth covered the lone sofa huddling in a corner. A fake tree stood by the door, with cobwebs hanging in dusty tendrils from its plastic leaves. Heavy curtains obscured the view of the street, creating deep shadows in which nothing moved.

Edging farther inside, she glanced into the single bedroom. A bare mattress occupied the room, with nothing else to keep it company. Through a narrow doorway, she could see an empty bathroom, the shower stripped of curtains behind which someone could hide.

She turned back to the main room, the hours of pent-up emotion rushing to fill the space adrenaline left behind. Cornelius wasn’t here. From the look of it, he hadn’t been for years.

Her brow twitched down spasmodically as she fought the tears that wanted to rise. She’d tried. She’d tried to do as Carter asked.

The last thing he ever asked.

Anguish rose, pressing hard against the carefully crafted barriers she’d built in the short time since Carter died. Tears burned and she cursed herself furiously, trying to stem the flow of grief with anger where everything else was failing. She wasn’t a child and she wouldn’t cry like one. So the wizards weren’t here. They had to be somewhere. She’d find them.

She’d still do as Carter asked.

With a shuddering breath, she turned to leave.

The closet door behind her swung open. Four wizards rushed into the room, their magic blazing.

They were from Merlin. The thought registered amid her shock. The men and women took positions around her, their expressions changing swiftly from cold threat to veiled startlement and then settling into an inexplicable sort of recognition that set her racing heart pounding all the harder. Turning as she tried to watch them all, she tightened her grip on the gun and let her magic grow stronger. Nearly as one, their eyes narrowed as they felt the energy rise.

From the too-black shadows of the closet, another man emerged. Dark-skinned and tall, with a sable trench coat over his dress shirt and slacks, he stopped at the sight of her, ignoring the closet door as it swung closed behind him. Alarm rippled with lightning speed across his face as his gaze took in the bloodstains covering her clothes, the gash on her forehead, and the gun clutched in her hand. And then the shock vanished completely, as though it had never been.

“Secure the area,” he ordered without looking away from her.

Anxiety fluttered in her as he spoke. Cornelius. She recognized his voice from the apartment. And like his voice, his face was familiar. Her brow twitched down, trying to place the memory dancing at the edge of reach.

Two wizards broke off from guarding her and headed for the far sides of the room. By the front door, one of them pushed away the leaves of the artificial tree and punched a few numbers into a keypad hidden behind the greenery, while the other strode to the window and tweaked back the curtain to check the street. Ignoring them, Cornelius crossed the distance to her, the air stirring as he moved.

Vanilla. Cedar. The scents brought back a rush of memory.

On a park bench down the road from an inferno, he’d held her hand as she cradled her baby sister. He’d waited with them as her father dealt with the aftermath of a freak explosion everyone said had been a gas main.

He’d watched over them the night the wizards’ war began.

Deep inside, the quivering returned and she smashed it down.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his deep voice low as though to keep the others from hearing.

Her brow furrowed, as much from confusion at his concern as lack of any idea what to say.

“I am Cornelius Jones,” he continued. “Third in line of authority on the Merlin council and representative of the southern European region. I promise we mean you no harm.”

She stared at him, wondering what she was supposed to take from that. Blinking, she struggled to push aside her confusion and just focus. “Carter sent me to talk to you.”

Traces of anger tightened his face at the mention of his cousin’s name.

Coming back from the keypad by the front door, the wizard paused at Cornelius’ side. “Several Taliesin nearby, sir,” the woman told him quietly. Her gaze flicked to Ashe. “They may have been trailing her.”

Cornelius’ eyes narrowed slightly at the panicked look that flitted across Ashe’s face, and then he nodded to the woman. “Find us a safe portal near the northern edge of town. We are returning to the council immediately.”

The woman bowed her head and then headed toward the closet, clicking on her cell phone as she went. Flipping through a few screens, she paused and then tucked the phone away. Ashe’s brow drew down as the woman reached up and ran her fingers down the doorframe.

Electric blue letters appeared, glowing with light. Coalescing into words and then scattering too quickly to follow, they shimmered over the left side of the doorframe for several moments before fading into nothing. Ignoring the display, the woman pulled open the door.

The air pressure in the room dropped, and Ashe blanched. Darkness waited within the closet, and the impenetrable shadows gave a sense of distance they couldn’t possibly have possessed. Wind stirred in the room, making the leaves of the artificial tree flutter.

With a short gesture, Cornelius ordered the wizards through the doorway. They stepped past the door and vanished into the darkness.

He stepped to one side, nodding to her. “This way.”

Incredulous, Ashe looked between him and the impossible abyss. “You can’t be–” she started, and then cut off as a beeping sounded from the alarm behind the fake tree. Cornelius made an irritated noise.

Before she could do more than register the fact he was moving, he reached across the distance between them and pulled her with him through the closet doorway.

Rushing air surrounded her. Blackness was everywhere, but not. Images seemed to blur around her so quickly, they became a streak of darkest gray. Bursts of sound accompanied them, rising and falling with impossible speed.

A city street appeared. A shop bell dinged. A subway train rushed past, vanishing almost instantly. For less time than it took to blink, she could see a playground filled with children.

And then she stumbled through a doorway.

Empty clothing racks filled the abandoned store and peeling sale posters covered the grimy windows. As the storage closet door swung closed behind them, Cornelius held her arm by his side with an iron grip.

Everything was swimming. Gasping, she reached out, attempting to catch herself on the wall as her legs wobbled.

Cornelius pulled her against his side tighter, forcibly keeping her upright. Struggling in his grasp, she tried to move the gun pinned between them, her efforts weak from nausea.

“Deep breaths,” he ordered softly. “Eyes on the ground till the dizziness stops.”

Unable to move, she hesitated and then complied.

The dizziness began to fade.

Swallowing hard, she tugged away from him, and no expression touched his face as he released her arm. Retreating, she scanned the shop. By the windows, the other wizards were checking the parking lots.

“Are we clear?” Cornelius called.

As the wizards nodded, he glanced back at her. A look of consideration flashed through his eyes, replaced almost instantly by fleeting irritation.

“We will take the cars,” he ordered.

The other wizards hesitated as though confused, but after a heartbeat, they strode for the back door.

Shaking, she drew a deep breath and braced a hand on the wall beside her, the other still clutching her gun. His face impassive, Cornelius stepped closer, reaching to pull her away from the support. Instantly, her weapon twitched toward him.

He paused, his gaze flicking in the direction the wizards had gone.

“It is of the utmost importance you show no sign of how this is affecting you,” he told her quietly. “Just remain calm and come with me. Say nothing. Do you understand?”

Incredulity struggled up out of her shock and her hand tightened on the gun. “What the–”

“That was a portal. A way of travelling which I will happily explain at a later time. But right now, we must get you to safety.”

“Why–”

“Later,” he interrupted calmly.

She backed along the wall as he started toward her again. Seeing her action, he stopped, frustration tightening his mouth. “I am trying to protect you.”

A scoff escaped her and she shook her head, keeping the gun between them. “Why?” she repeated, clinging to the question.

He paused, old resentment playing across his face. “So Carter told you nothing?”

“Carter’s
dead
!”

The exclamation burst from her before she could stop it, but at the words he froze. His eyes went to the stains covering her again.

Her fingers adjusted around the gun as she swallowed and then continued more softly. “A Blood wizard killed him trying to get to me. He died this morning. Just after he gave me this.”

She drew out the scrap of paper, extending it to him cautiously. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it.

“He wanted me to tell you about the Blood.”

For a moment, Cornelius didn’t answer, his eyes on the stains darkening the paper. With difficulty, he cleared his throat, and the reserved mask returned to his face, though it looked slightly more fractured than before.

“We need to go,” he said.

“But–”

“Please,” he interrupted, his voice strained. “Do as I ask. And do not speak to the others till the council has had the chance to talk to you first. Just… allow me to get you to safety. Please.”