When the Stars Threw Down Their Spears: The Goblin Wars, Book Three (29 page)

“No.” Grendal was dying. She could feel the slowing, the dimming in him. But she felt his little fingers tighten around hers as well, and his head rubbed against her. He was saying thank you.

“Then hold it with one hand, girl. I’ve got to stop the blood.”

Teagan hugged Grendal with one arm, and put her forehead against his while Finn wrapped the bandanna around her arm and tightened it.

“Hákon,” Grendal whispered.
“Good hunting, Hákon.”

“Good hunting, Fairy Cat.” She knew he couldn’t hear her. “Sleep warm.”

“What cat?” Mrs. Santini said.

Teagan just shook her head.

“Let me drive you to the hospital, Tea.”

“It’s not too bad, Mrs. Santini,” Teagan said. “It’s on the outer arm, no veins or arteries involved. It’s already almost stopped bleeding.”

“What were those things?” Jing asked. “Hyenas?”

“Basically,” Teagan said.

Sirens started in the distance. Ms. Skinner had called the police, and they’d figured out Teagan wasn’t in school.

Mrs. Santini was still watching Teagan. “You still think you’ve got a cat?”

“The cat’s invisible,” Finn explained. “We’ve got them all over. You know what? I think you should get Lennie out of here.”

“I’ll take care of my Lennie. You fix Teagan. Are those hyenas coming back?”

“Yes.” Teagan’s arm was starting to hurt. Thomas came around the corner at the end of the street, a tall white cup in his hand.
Mocha latte. Roisin had sent him out for a coffee
.

“Roisin!” He dropped the cup and started to run.

“Your girlfriend let them in,” Finn said grimly. “They killed Mamieo, and now Roisin’s gone away with them.”

Thomas shook his head. “She just asked me to walk to the Feather for a mocha. She would never have done this.”

“You can ask them yourself.” Finn pointed. “They went that way.”

Thomas stripped off his shirt.

“What are you —?” Mrs. Santini asked.

He didn’t bother with his pants. The transformation was fast, as if he stepped out of his clothes and into his raven form. Then he shot into the sky and after the Dump Dogs. Mrs. Santini looked from the pile of clothes on the ground to the bird disappearing in the distance.

“Abigail—” she began.

“Zia,” Abby interrupted, “you totally saved our lives, but you’ve got to get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mrs. Santini said. “This is my home. My neighbors. Aiden’s like a brother to my Lennie.”

“They killed Mamieo Ida,” Teagan said flatly. “At least keep Lennie inside. We’re going to go get Dad.”

Mrs. Santini picked up the clothes Thomas had dropped. “LENNIE,” she bellowed, “GET INSIDE THE HOUSE! You’re going to get your dad, Tea? Tell him anything the Wylltsons need, the Santinis are there.”

“So what do we do?” Abby asked as Mrs. Santini waddled toward her house.

“We stick with Mamieo’s plan.” Teagan wiped her bloody hand on her jeans.

“What was the plan?” Abby asked.

“Those of us who can,” Finn said, “are going to Mag Mell to find a way to let Raynor in. Get in the car.”

“In it?” Gil gulped.

“It’s either that or stay here,” Finn said. “We’ve got to go.”

“It’s my impression,” Jing looked around, “that you are all talking to an . . . invisible person.”

“He’s a phooka,” Abby said, as if she’d been seeing them all her life. “Tea told me about him. My psychic powers are totally increasing.” Jing just nodded.

Teagan took Grendal’s body up the steps and laid it down beside the front door. She’d take care of him when they got back.

“Holy crap,” Finn said, and Teagan turned to follow his stare.

If
they got back. A dark supercell hung in the sky to the northwest, over Rosehill Cemetery.

“Get in the car,” Finn said again.

“It’s the shadows,” Aiden said as Teagan settled him on her lap. “They’re looking for my song.”

Abby looked over her shoulder from the front seat. “Then don’t sing it.”

“I can’t sing it.” Aiden shook his curly head. “Dad has it.”

“Well, we better tell him not to sing it either,” Abby said, “’cause that looks bad.”

“I’m not seeing anything,” Jing said.

“There’s, like, a tornado,” Abby said. “It’s huge.”

“So which way do you want me to drive?” Jing asked.

“To Rosehill Cemetery,” Teagan said.

“Toward whatever it is you’re pointing at?”

“If John Wylltson can’t hold them in, we’re all of us dead anyway,” Finn said. “And the man might need some help. He’s got no one with him but McGillahee.”

Jing drove straight through the front gates of Rosehill, past a parked tour bus. Haunted Chicago Tours. Just what they needed, a busload of civilians involved.

There were a few cars, and people standing over graves or taking pictures of a tomb. Jing parked the car. Teagan noticed he brought his baseball bat with him as they walked across the grass between the tombstones and monuments to where Mr. Wylltson was standing. The gate the shadows had clawed open shimmered between Mr. Wylltson and the lake.

As they got closer, Teagan could hear that he was singing
The Litany of the Saints
in Latin, as if he had the whole choir of St. Drogo’s standing with him. It was a song that could go on forever. He sang both the call and response, as if he were lead and choir rolled into one:

“Omnes Sancti et Sanctae Dei, intercédite pro nobis
.

All ye holy Saints of God, make intercession for us.”

Aiden dodged past Seamus and wrapped his arms around his dad’s legs. Mr. Wylltson picked him up, but kept singing.

“Can your dad see those things?” Abby asked.

“No,” Teagan said. “He just feels them.”

Jing moved closer to Abby. “I’m feeling something myself. Something evil.”

“Well, Saint Finn.” Seamus looked a little pale. “Are you ready to intercede?”

“My Mamieo has just been killed, McGillahee. I’m not in the mood for your foolishness.”

Mr. Wylltson looked from Finn to Teagan’s bloody sleeve, and his eyebrows knit.

“The Dump Dogs came looking for Aiden,” Finn explained, “and Roisin let them in. Mamieo wouldn’t let them have the boyo. Roisin’s gone off with them.”

A bright blue ’57 Chevy pulled up behind the Mustang, and the Turtles piled out.

“The mighty Khan is with us,” Rafe said. “Excellent.”

Jing shook his head.

“Got your text, Abby,” Leo said. “We got here as fast as we could.” He lowered his voice as if Mr. Wylltson couldn’t hear him. “Why the concert? What’s going on?”

“All I know is, if he stops singing, those
things
”—Abby pointed up at the roiling shadows—“are gonna pour into Chicago like a plague or something. The angel’s the only one who can stop them.”

Donny squinted at the sky, but Leo nodded. “So where’s the angel?” he asked.

“We don’t know,” Finn said.

“So you texted us.” Leo looked at Abby.

“I didn’t text anybody.”

Mr. Wylltson had closed his eyes as if he were praying. His arms tightened around Aiden, but his song never faltererd

Something was wrong. Teagan looked from the Gagliano boys to the storm.

Roisin had Abby’s phone.

“Was anyone else on the text tree?” Teagan asked.

“Just Zoë,” Abby said.

“You think we need a social worker?” Rafe asked.

“
You
need a social worker, Rafe. I figured if something happened, Choirboy would need her. Guess what? Something happened. He needs her.”

“You should have told us there were so many of them,” Rafe said, glancing over his shoulder. “We’d have brought a few more soldiers.”

Apparently Zoë was not worth waiting for, because the trap had been sprung. Teagan recognized a few of the tourists and mourners, now that she was looking closer. One was the man who had been with Kyle and claimed to be her relative after her mother died.

“Is that Isabeau?” Jing asked.

It was. She was dressed in a tight A-line dress with a feathered fascinator on the side of her head.

“The Jackie O. look,” Abby said. “Retro, but she’s got the curves to make it work.”

“Oh, yeah,” Rafe agreed.

“Shut up, Rafe,” Leo and Angelo said.

Leo squinted at the sky and shivered. “Why’s it so cold here?”

“Maybe Abby should text the weatherman and ask,” Rafe said. “Hey, Isabeau!” The Highborn girl ignored him.

The Highborn who had offered to buy Finn when they were in Mag Mell was right behind her, and there were many, many more walking across the grass toward them. They must have come the same way Kyle and Isabeau had after the gate was closed—stepping into Ireland and catching flights over.And then they’d just taken the tour bus.

It could have been the same crowd she’d seen in Mag Mell at the phooka baiting. Some of the beautiful and well-dressed people—those who were shape shifters—started shaking off their human forms, eager for blood sport. There were hyenas, wolves, and scaly, fanged creatures that Teagan had never seen before. A few were incomplete shifters like Kyle had been, retaining some of their human form even as they grew muzzles or claws. A couple that was apparently not part of the Highborn group turned and ran. Gil stepped closer to Teagan, and Seamus’s smile had disappeared.

“So nice to see you, Tea,” Isabeau said. “My mom and dad are back together, by the way. Mom’s pissed.” She nodded toward the Highborn around them. “She sent us to find the shits who killed her son.” Then she nodded toward the shimmering gate beyond Mr. Wylltson. “The shadows are Daddy’s. He’s not angry. Just . . .
mad
.”

“Like, what?” Abby said. “Insane mad? Because that”—she waved at the cloud of shadows—“is just overreacting.”

“Sprite bite give you second sight?” Isabeau asked. “That’s the only way a dirty human can get it, but it only happens if the bite doesn’t kill them. You’re one in a million, Abby. Enjoy it for the last ten seconds of your amazing life.” The Highborn who had already shifted began to surge forward.

Then the air puffed, and Raynor was standing beside Teagan. The Highborn stopped. Mr. Wylltson stopped singing as well, but the shadows didn’t fall. They apparently didn’t want any part of the angel after what had happened at the park.

“Tea, come here,” Mr. Wylltson said. He reached out with the arm that wasn’t holding Aiden and put it around her protectively, then looked from the shadows to the goblins. The smell of fire had come with Raynor, as if he’d been sitting on the rim of a live volcano.

Isabeau grinned and tipped her head. “Been to hell and back, Raynor? I thought you might miss the party, but Mother said you would get here. She’s just so
good
at this.”

“A trap,” Raynor said. “That’s what the pathetic mess at the school was about.”

Leo edged closer to the angel. “You can deal with this, right? Abby said you dealt with stuff like this at the library park.”

Raynor didn’t answer.

The cold hand was on Teagan’s heart again.
A trap
. The shadow men and Highborn were just the bait. Raynor was the teeth.

Mab had sent Isabeau and the others here just in case Raynor didn’t make it back. But he did, and now he had to decide: step aside and burn the shadows and Highborn—and Finn, the Gaglianos, Jing, and the Wylltsons along with them— or let the supercell loose on Chicago. There was only one choice the angel could make—they were all going to die here. Mab just wanted Raynor to experience the pain of having done it himself.

Mr. Wylltson cleared his throat.

“Night shall be thrice night over you,”
he said.

“What’s the crazy man talking about?” Isabeau asked.

“And heaven an iron cope.”

John Wylltson put his hand on Aiden’s curly head, and looked directly into the angel’s eyes.

“Do you have joy without a cause
,

Yea, faith without a hope?”

He was asking Raynor to remember the conversation they’d had in the kitchen. Remember the one thing that Mab couldn’t know—that John Paul Wylltson was carrying the song Fear Doirich had sent to mark his Aiden. The angel’s lips pressed into a grim line. He looked up at the supercell, then nodded.

“Only as long as you can keep them occupied, John,” he said. “Only that long.”

“Thank you.” There was relief in Mr. Wylltson’s voice. “Kids, Raynor is going to leave. When he does, I want you to run. All of you. Those of you who know Mamieo’s plan, go into Mag Mell. And those of you who don’t, get to your cars and get as far from here as you can, as fast as you can.” He looked toward the shape shifters, and Leo turned to follow his glance. The Highborn were edging forward, angel or not. It would take them only a few seconds to cover the distance once Raynor was gone.
To tear her father to pieces
. “It’s possible that I will be able to buy you enough time.”

The Gagliano boys had turned toward the cars.

“Leo?” Rafe asked. “You coming?”

“Do what the man says,” Leo ordered, his eyes on the shape shifters. “I got a job here.”

Mr. Wylltson pried Aiden’s arms from around his neck and handed him to Teagan, then gripped Finn’s shoulder. “Take car of them.”

“Dad,” Teagan said, “I—”

“Get into Mag Mell,” Mr. Wylltson commanded.
“Now run!”
Air popped again as the angel disappeared. Then Mr. Wylltson’s Welsh tenor rose, clear and strong:

“The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
,

In the ranks of death ye will find him.”

“No!” Aiden screamed as Teagan turned and ran for the shimmer.

She had gone only a few steps when the shadows fell from the sky.

“Wait!” Isabeau screamed behind her, apparently understanding at last. “
Wait!
I can’t run in this dress!”

The shadows passed around Teagan like bats, touching her skin like a veil, but they didn’t stop or reach inside. Aiden had been right. They were looking for his song. The one her dad was singing.