Alchemist's Kiss (19 page)

Cora pointed to the corner of the room where a gauzy light had begun to coalesce and take shape. As they watched, wide-eyed, the room flickered with pinpoints of light Icarus likened to the fireflies of his boyhood nights. The lights swirled and moved, coming together en masse to take shapes that left them all with gaping jaws. Soon, the room was filled with figures much like their own, bi-pedal with arms and the shape of round heads visible. They had all seen aether illuminated by lightning or during the occasional spell, but this was much clearer and more stable than any accidental glimpse.

“They are like us.” Cora's breath was hot on Icarus' ear as he reached out to brush the particles before him. His hand felt nothing, and passed through the figure without impedance. “People.”

“They are not like us!” Rivensbrow's voice was loud over the hum and vibration of his machine. “They amalgamate and become these shapes, but in truth they are many. Infinite.”

“A hive-like sentience?” Icarus questioned.

Rivensbrow shrugged. “Would that I could speak their language! In truth I do not know.”

“I do.” Cora pressed her gloved palm to a glowing silhouette. “They are alive. They feel emotion and they can speak, if they choose.”

Rivensbrow's gaze targeted Cora. “Another day we will discuss what you know of the aether, Jenkins. For now we must find the absence of it straightaway.”

They all startled as the forms lost shape, scattering in an instant. They became a buzz of bright particles coating every space in the room. Icarus was sure he felt the tiny lights as they landed on his skin, though he knew a thin barrier still existed between them.

Rivensbrow's head snapped up as his eyes narrowed. “Do you smell that, Grand Adept?”

Icarus breathed deep and coughed at the harsh scent of roses and rot. “Demons.”

Rivensbrow straightened his coat and ruffled his hair. “Demons indeed. It seems your father has managed to find us. He must know we are close to our goal.”

Cora tapped her parasol on the ground. Icarus had never been more proud of her as she straightened her spine and steeled her expression as his protégé he could find no fault with her.

“We dispatch them quickly, then. We cannot allow Victor to spill more innocent blood.”

Icarus was proud of Cora, yes. At the same time he felt the warmth in his chest turn to icy terror. A fear that she would not be safe from the atrocity of his father and his demons. He debated whether or not he could force her to remain safely out of danger, and quickly rejected the possibility. The only way to keep Cora from his side would be to knock her senseless, and she would most likely kill him for the thought.

As if she could read his mind she narrowed her green eyes and a blush of red spread over her cheeks. She pointed the sharp and possibly deadly end of her parasol at him. “Do not even consider it, Icarus Kane. We fight together or we do not fight. Try to leave me behind or hobble me and you will never carry a normal gait again.”

He ignored the snicker from both Rivensbrow and the Grand Master's raven. “As you wish, Adept Jenkins.”

Cora shook the parasol at him, but her color faded a bit and a smile ghosted over her lips. “As you wish indeed.” She looked at Rivensbrow. “Well, shall we dispatch some demons?”

I could smell the stink of fear off Icarus like sweat. It clung to him as he moved about the room casting wards over every inch of the perimeter. The scrabbling of demon claws on the stone of the building was loud, and the still-visible aether fluttered about us. The aether moved to guard the room at Icarus' direction, and I found myself wishing for The Hand. The voice of the aether was subdued in my head, and the talisman had always amplified it. Lined along the walls the aether created an effervescent barrier of golden light, complexly interwoven.

“Do you see this?” Rivensbrow was fascinated, his eyes fixed on Icarus as the particles moved at his behest. He waved his hand at the scene as Icarus called the aether to protect them from the demons outside. “It races to do his bidding. And it clings to his hand.”

I, too, had noticed that the aether was drawn to Icarus' scarred left hand, even gloved as it was. A swirl of gold encapsulated his entire hand and shrouded it in gauzy light.

“And you.” Rivensbrow's sharp eyes turned to me. The Grand Master peered at me through the eyes of his familiar and leaned closer as Rivensbrow studied me.

“Me?”

“You're awash in light, Adept Jenkins. A most beguiling sight it is, too.” Orrin's voice was bright with interest. “I wish I could be there to see it with my own eyes! The view from Machiavelli is a bit limiting.”

I bit my lip as the bird shook its head in annoyance with its master description.

“The aether clings to you, covering every inch.” Rivensbrow stepped closer, and he raised a hand to brush at the aether in my hair. He grinned when it jolted him with an electric buzz that even I could feel.  “Its aim is to protect you, I think.”

“She will need it.” Icarus joined the conversation, wiping his gloves over his lapels. His face was pale. “These are no ordinary demons.
Olc Dorchadas.
”

Roughly translated it meant
evil darkness
. Splendid. The
Olc Dorchadas
were tied to the service of only one dark wizard for their lifetime, and they were known for their bloodthirsty reverence of the kill. The bloodier the better.

“
Tugann Solas
?” I asked, going over the words to the ancient spell in my head. I had a knack for remembering spells that always surprised and annoyed Icarus. He pulled out his own small notebook filled with spells and thumbed through it.

“That spell is often used against
Dorchadas
,” Orrin agreed as Machiavelli hopped about on Rivensbrow's shoulder, “but I've a better one, if we dare.”

“We'd best hurry.” Rivensbrow moved to his machine and knelt to look it over. “There's not enough power to keep us going forever.”

“
Doigh geal
?” Icarus asked.

“
Basanna Glacadh
.”

I flinched at Orrin's suggestion.
Death's Embrace
was a complicated and powerful spell that most wizards never attempted. Even as powerful as Icarus and Orrin were together, I wasn't sure we could muster up the response of the aether to perform such a spell.

The sound of glass breaking in the front of the shop made us all tense. Icarus was teetering on the edge of a decision, and the sounds and smells of demons grew closer.

“Our wards won't hold forever.” Orrin stared hard at us. There was a gleam of his own power flickering in the depths of his familiar's eyes.

“Can you work a spell from so far away?” Icarus' hesitation was not on his own behalf, I knew. Death's Embrace might destroy the Dorchadas, but it could also kill us all as well. He was afraid for me, and it hobbled him.

“Machiavelli is an exceptional conduit.” Orrin confirmed.

“If this is the plan, we must commence.” Rivensbrow tapped the machine, “We are running out of time.”

“Grand Adept?” Orrin's voice was filled with smug amusement.

Icarus locked eyes with me. The cerulean depths were agonized, filled with fear and trepidation.

“Who is the warden of London?” I asked, stepping closer to take his hands in mine. I could feel the aether flutter, encompassing us both in a cocoon of potential power.

“I am.”

I squeezed his hands in mine, my eyes locked on his. “Who is the wizard responsible for eliminating the threat of dark wizards to the people he protects?”

“I am.”

I leaned closer. Our lips were nearly touching as I stood on my toes, but my eyes never, even for a moment, flickered from his. “Who trained me, prepared me, and turned me into a wizard?”

“I did.”

I kissed him once. “Who loves me, but will never let that love overshadow his confidence in me?”

“I do.”

I smiled then, and pressed my lips to his again. “We can do this, Icarus. Together.”

“Together.” he agreed. He was still uncertain, but the fear was fading fast. This was the power of love that I had never anticipated. I could take away fear and uncertainty and replace it with something stronger.

I stepped back but kept my hands in his. I looked at Orrin on Rivensbrow's shoulder.

“Exceptional motivational speech, Adept Jenkins.” Orrin's voice turned cold as the scrape of claws on the door drifted to us. The scent of roses and death seeped past Icarus' wards and I crinkled my nose. “Rivensbrow, prepare the circle. They are upon us.”

As Icarus' protégé I had worked inside many magic circles. Rivensbrow worked quickly to mark the lines on the floor in chalk, the alchemy symbols alongside the magical. The aether were drawn to the inscriptions, and hovered over them as Rivensbrow put them down. When he was finished we stepped inside the circle, divided into quadrants. Icarus was to my left, and Machiavelli to my right. Rivensbrow occupied the space directly opposite me.

“North, South, East, and West, the four points of power.”

I gasped as Machiavelli suddenly transformed into a man. His nose was long and pointed, his chin sharp and his hair unnaturally black and shiny.

“There. That's better.” Long-fingered hands patted down the austere black shirt and pants. “It's the devil to work magic in the guise of a bird, you know.”

“Machiavelli?” I asked.

He bowed low, the movement awkward but no less charming. “Machiavelli has allowed me the use of his secondary form.”

“Introductions and explanations later, perhaps?” Icarus took my hand in his. “We have business, Grand Master.”

Orrin nodded and took my other hand. Rivensbrow completed the circle and I watched with wide eyes as the aether created a dome of glimmering color all around us.

“They are drawn to us, as a conduit of their power.” Orrin studied the particles with a tilted head. “Most magnificent.”

I looked over my shoulder as the door splintered wide. What entered was depravity and oozing evil, mixed about and poured into an ugly mold. They jiggled and slunk along the floor toward us. It was the first time I had ever seen the
Olc Dorchadas
, and it was the last time I ever wanted to. Eyes too far apart on heads too misshapen swiveled and whipped about, searching for us through the light of the aether.

“Rivensbrow, you may begin.”

The words to the spell were etched on the floor at our feet, our parts clearly laid out.

“
Rise eadrom le mo tairisceana.”
Rivensbrow's pronunciation of the ancient Irish was flawless.

“
Ceangal agus teaghran seo dorchaadas
”
Icarus' voice was laden with power as he recited his part of the spell. The aether rose and the particles began to spin and whirl.

“Now you, Jenkins.” Orrin urged.

“
Tog m'anam ma ni mor duit, mar sin go bhfuil an olc scriosta.
”
Take my soul if you must, so that this evil is destroyed.

I grimaced at the pressure of Icarus' hand over mine. He was shaking, the words powerful and portentous. I had just offered my soul to the aether in exchange for their help. We all had.

“
Cosain an maith, an righteous. Scriosann an olc.”
Protect the good, the righteous. Destroy the evil,
Orrin finished.

The Dorchadas were closer, not deterred by the sting of the aether. I jumped back as a thick, black claw swept over the perimeter of the circle and nearly caught my leg.

“This isn't working!' Icarus shouted, pulling me closer. We could not cross from our sections of the circle without breaking the conduit we had created.

“Patience, Grand Adept.” Orrin reached for my hand again. “Repeat your part, Jenkins.”

“
Tog m'anam ma ni mor duit, mar sin go bhfuil an olc scriosta.
”

The aether swirled about us, holding the Dorchadas back for the most part, but they did not seem to respond to our words as we'd hoped. We knew they were capable of destroying the demons, but didn't seem inclined to do so at that moment.

“I wish I had The Hand.” I said, looking to Icarus. “It always helped me speak to the aether.”

“You don't need it!”

I looked up at Rivensbrow's exclamation. “The talisman was never the source of your power, Cora. Concentrate, and speak to the aether.”

Orrin shrugged. “It can't hurt.”

Icarus let go of Rivensbrow's hand and removed his glove. “If the spell does not work I will use the rune. I will hold them back while you all run.”

“No!” I tugged on his coat. “You'll be overcome.”

“And you'll all survive to find my father.” Icarus grinned at me and that light of defiant courage was back.

“Let me try.” I countered, “Let me talk to the aether.”

“Very well. But hurry, we can't let them get closer.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep, fortifying breath. The fetid stench of demons coupled with the pounding of my own heart made it hard to concentrate. I tried to build a wall between the outside world and myself, and the warm embrace of Icarus' hand in mine finally allowed me to do it. Perhaps I could convince the aether to assist us.

I breathed deeply, slowly. The noise and smells of the outside world faded away.

Hello?

I knew the feeling that invaded me. The sensation of standing alone in a dark room, with the absolute certainty that someone or something breathed on your neck from just behind you. It moved over my skin and tickled the skin behind my ears.

Hello.

Are you here?

Are you?

I knew in that moment that aether was alive. It had humor. It spoke to me as though it knew me, and I knew it did. Every thought, every desire, was clear to the aether. Our connection was the thing that made me a wizard. Made me
capable
of magic.

Olc Dorchadas have been sent by a dark wizard to kill us.

You believe this wizard can destroy you all?

He can strip the barrier between humans and aether. He has The Hand.

A tool and nothing more. It is not the talisman, but the wielder, who connects with us.

Help us, please.

We came from a time long before, when our masters were cruel and capricious. They created us, and used us in terrible ways. We erected the barrier so that we could not be used this way again. Their time ended, and we watched your people rise. Always, science and magic have played the part of the sun and the moon. One rises as the other falls, and it must stop.

We can't let Victor win,
I argued,
we can stop him. Help us, damn you!

We have long watched over you, daughter of our distant people. There are few who remain that can speak to us. Do you think we would abandon you now?

Then help us!

The aether did not laugh. I was not sure it could laugh, but that same distant amusement colored the air.

Remember this: We were created to work through you. Attempt to misuse this gift and we will exact a terrible price.

I blinked, coming back to myself with a wall of black demons a mere foot from my face. We'd turned, back to back in the circle. The aether was still holding them back, but they were close enough to feel their breath on my face.

“Any luck?” Orrin turned Machiavelli's long neck to look at me. I still had a hard time with the raven's new form, and his thin lips smiled at me to reveal bright, sharp teeth.

“A warning. Any attempt to force or misuse the aether's assistance will result in death. I got the impression it would be both slow and painful.”

“Noted.” Orrin turned his gaze to Icarus. “How's the hand, old man?”

“Burning.” Icarus showed us his fist, bleeding bright blue light through his fingers. It must have been excruciatingly painful for him to be so close to such powerful demons.

“Say the words of the spell again,” I told them. I took Icarus' hand in mine as Orrin grabbed my other. Rivensbrow held Icarus' forearm rather than chancing going near his glowing hand.