The Hour of Dust and Ashes (32 page)

“Why are you smiling?” she asked, reaching below to pull out her bowl of M&M’s so I could have some.

“No reason. Anyone here yet?” We’d finally planned a meeting today—a sort of powwow to figure out our next move concerning Hank. “Where’s Em?”

“I am in the back doing
inventory,
” came a very bored voice from the open stockroom door, which
then mumbled, “I’d rather pick up hellhound poop from the backyard.”

I winced. “Wow. She must really hate inventory.” Because she sure as hell hated cleaning up the backyard. I winked at Bryn and called, “Well, there’s plenty of that left to do when you get home.”

“Ha. Ha. Mother, you are
so
not funny.”

Bryn laughed at me. “You’re so mean.”

I popped some candy in my mouth and smiled while I chewed. “How did the deposition go?”

Her eyes rolled. “Boring as usual. There are only so many times and ways the nobles can ask me what happened. I feel like if I have to tell that story one more time, I’ll turn into a toad or something.”

“Hey, I’ve had to sit there and repeat it, too. At least the nobles are accepting our story for now.” And Carreg was being hailed as a hero.

Bryn’s brow lifted in agreement, but a shadow settled over her—something I felt rather than saw. I knew thinking of the last few months really got her down.

I gestured toward the stockroom and lowered my voice. “How was she today?”

“Good. I think she really needed to get out of the house. I’m glad you let her come. The sadness will lift; you just have to give it time. I think you should consider putting her back in school soon. It might help. Be a distraction at least.”

“Yeah. About that … Emma,” I called in a stern voice, “can you come out here, please?”

“One sec!” After some shuffling and a bang, she stepped out of the stockroom and blew a strand of wavy brown bangs from her eyes with a huff. “What?”

I reached into my pocket and handed her a plain white envelope over the counter. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she opened it. “My birthday isn’t until next week.”

“It’s not a birthday present.”

She sighed and read the letter, her brow furrowing deep and then slowly easing the farther she read. Her big eyes lifted, utterly bewildered. “I don’t get it. You said I couldn’t go. You said we didn’t have the money and—”

I leaned across the counter, grabbed her face with both hands, kissed her forehead, and then looked her in the eyes. “I know what I said. But I’ve thought about it a lot. If this is what you want, then it’s what I want, too. And just so you know. I signed the papers before I went to Charbydon.”

Before we lost Daddy.
I wanted her to understand I wasn’t doing this because she was sad, or because I thought it would cheer her up. I did it because it was the right decision, the right thing for my daughter at this stage in her life. She was ready. I believed in her. And I didn’t want to hold her back.

One of the great things about being a mom is watching the range of emotions spread over your child’s face when a wish comes true. When they’ve gotten something they’ve been begging for and never in a million years thought they’d get.

“Jeez, stop being all mysterious, will ya?” Bryn snatched the letter from Emma’s hand and read. She let out a low, impressed whistle and then started grinning broadly. “I knew you were good enough to get in. And partial scholarship, too. Nice.”

“Is this real?” Emma’s gaze held mine. “Are you serious?”

“It’s a done deal. You start on Monday. If you’re cool with that. If not, they said you can start the following week.”

I watched my kid smile for the first time in a week. My heart expanded with joy even as it broke—odd feeling, that.

Then she was the one leaning over the counter and grabbing my face, smashing my cheeks together. She put her forehead against mine. “Thank you, Momma.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oh, hell, you guys … You have to stop being so … mother-daughter-y. You’re going to make me cry.” We glanced over together to see Bryn already crying like a baby, her nose bright red.

Emma laughed. We held out our arms at the same time and Bryn stepped into our hug as we laughed.

“If you all start singing ‘Kumbaya,’ I’m
so
out of here.”

Rex.

I hadn’t heard the door jingle. Brim walked in beside him, immediately sniffing around for Gizmo,
Bryn’s little gray gargoyle. The two had apparently taken a liking to each other, much to everyone’s surprise.

“Rex, I’m going to school at the League!” Emma told him, waving the letter with excitement and then coming around the counter with her hand out. “Pay up. You owe me twenty bucks.”

Rex glared at me and dug into his jeans. “I thought you’d never say yes.”

I shook my head. Emma was bleeding him dry and he let her.

The door jingled again. This time Aaron appeared, and before anyone could say hello, the bell rang again. Marti and Amanda—free from her possession, thanks to the exorcist—looking more like her old self, which was basically a teenage version of her mother, walked in with Titus bringing up the rear. For once, he was out of his lab coat.

“Sorry we’re a little late,” Marti said, giving us a friendly smile as Emma told Amanda the good news. “We got sidetracked by the sale at Klein’s on our way in.” She glanced at Titus and her cheeks went a subtle pink color. I detected a bit of interest happening between those two. And if it bloomed into something, I couldn’t be happier.

“Aunt Bryn,” Emma said, “can I show Amanda the dead pixie in the back?”

Several stunned eyes fixed on Bryn. She bristled. “It’s a
mummy,
people. Pixies are extinct. What? It’s wrapped.” She gave Emma a nod. “Go ahead.”

Once they were gone, the adults chatted.

And then things turned serious …

“So your informant is sure he’s in the tower?” Aaron asked, the only one standing straight with his arms crossed over his chest. Everyone else had found a chair, a chest, a counter, or a bookshelf to lean on.

They all knew now what had happened, what Hank had gone through, and what he faced back in Fiallan. A few months ago, I would’ve gone it alone, would’ve wanted to protect everyone and keep them in the dark—my heart was in the right place in doing that—but I realized that we were stronger as a unit than as one individual. And I needed them as much as they needed me. We were a family. All of us.

“Yes,” I answered. “My guy was in Fiallan for three days, trying to get confirmation. The towers are guarded, Hank’s especially. But he was finally able to get a visual during a guard change. Hank is definitely in the grid.”

“Well, that’s good, right?” Marti asked. “No one can hurt him there. In a way, he’s safe at least.”

“And perhaps there’s a way to get him out safely,” Titus offered, thoughtfully. “From what you’ve said, Charlie, I think there is a clear difference in being forcibly taken from the grid versus breaking free on your own. Before, Hank’s mind was obviously not lost in the grid, it was a bit disconnected, right? That must’ve been what allowed him to retain his faculties
and eventually escape the tower. But if Hank is completely connected and immersed, lost in the grid, if you will, we could be looking at the same kind of situation that happens to the other
Malakim
—”

“The only good thing is that the Circe are keeping Hank’s capture a secret, which should make extracting him easier for us. The less guards and obstacles in our way, the better,” I said.

“If the sirens of Fiallan knew the Circe had Hank; they’d definitely question his punishment, wouldn’t they?” Bryn asked. “Going into the grid is supposed to be an honor, not a punishment fit for their traitor.”

“Exactly. And we might be able to use that to shed light on the truth of those towers.” The Circe were taking a huge risk by putting Hank back into the grid. If the sirens were to find out who he was and that the grid was being used as a punishment, it might make them rethink the
Malakim
.

“So whatever the case, we should probably plan to carry Hank out,” Rex said. “Take a sling or something.”

“Another consideration,” Aaron began, “is causing a political incident. Relations between this world and the Elysians are good right now, but we must be careful of going in and thumbing our noses at their customs and laws. Not that I believe the
Malakim
practice is right by any stretch, but … we must get them to listen to us.” The door jingled.

“It’s more than simply rescuing him,” Aaron continued. “To prevent the sirens from continually
hunting him, Hank needs to be exonerated. We need to prove his case against the towers and the Circe.”

“Well, maybe I can help with that.” The chief strode down the narrow aisle, his wide shoulders taking up much of the space. “A group of civil rights attorneys are headed to Federation Headquarters along with ITF representatives from Washington. Hank’s an ITF agent. A U.S. citizen. His record here speaks for itself. We might be able to get him released and sent back to us without having to step foot in Fiallan.”

Liz stepped out from behind the chief’s large form as he cleared the aisle. He’d completely hidden her from view. “Yeah,” she said, giving me a wink through her glasses. “Flex our legal muscle and see what happens.”

I tried to smile, but was pretty sure it came out as a wince. I wasn’t as optimistic as the chief and Liz, and I didn’t have the kind of patience Aaron was talking about. While they wrangled over Hank and the truth of the towers, he’d be fighting the grid, losing himself little by little …

“Point is,” Bryn said to me, “we’re all here. We’re not going to accept what’s happened. We will get Hank out, Charlie.”

Faces smiled. Heads nodded. My throat thickened and I could only dip my head in thanks. The room grew quiet after that, minds turning and working …

“You know … this is just like that ‘Dora Saves the Prince’ episode.”

All eyes went to Rex.

“What? A guy can’t watch cartoons? You all try living as long as I have and see if you don’t start watching Nick Jr. at some point.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “What’s your point, Rex?”

“Well,” he grumbled, “it’s usually the princess in the tower and the prince charges off on his white horse to rescue her. So, you know …” He glared at Bryn, who was laughing under her breath. “Never mind.”

Bryn’s laugh grew louder. “So what are you, Rex, like Boots or something?”

He shot her a sarcastic look as Emma and Amanda burst through the stockroom door, pale and frazzled. “Did you see it? Did it come out here?”

Bryn’s expression went deadpan as the laughter died down. Her eyes narrowed. “Did
what
come out here?”

The guilt that slid over the girls’ features had me straightening in alarm. A small knock sounded. Something fell from one of the bookshelves that lined the main aisle. We all turned in unison.

A thin, ten-inch-tall mummy wrapped in faded linen strips waddled down the aisle, bumping into everything.

“Emma Kate Garrity.”

“Amanda Riley Mott.”

Marti and I spoke at the same time.

Bryn hurried from behind the counter, her skirt flying out behind her, her ankle bracelets tinkling.
“You reanimated my pixie!” She dashed after the tiny thing.

Emma gave me a defensive look. “Well, I didn’t
mean
to.”

It only got worse as Brim and Gizmo appeared at the end of the aisle, eyes on the pixie. Drool dripped from Brim’s mouth. Oh no. Emma yelled at Brim. Bryn yelled at Gizmo, and chaos erupted as the pixie darted to the left and everyone started chasing …

The door jingled again, and I heard Sian’s yelp of surprise.

Aaron slid up next to me, leaning against the counter, humor glistening in those emerald eyes. “Never a dull moment with you Madigan women.”

I sighed heavily, watching the chaos unfold, and letting out a small laugh. “Welcome to my world, warlock.”

Many thanks to my family, friends, and readers. Your support and encouragement is nothing short of amazing and I appreciate it more than I can ever say.

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Cynthia Cooke and Kris Kennedy, authors and friends who provided invaluable feedback in early drafts of this book and who helped me stay afloat when I felt like sinking. Thank you, ladies.

Thanks also to Miriam Kriss, Kameryn Long, my friends at Destination Debut, all the wonderful folks at Pocket Books, and my editor, Ed Schlesinger, for the guidance, the insight, and being an all-around fantastic person to work with. It’s truly an honor.

And to Jonathan, Audrey, and James. For everything.