There were hundreds—no, thousands—of sticky bees swarming the poppies, Earth-born creatures gorging on Faery nectar. Flying erratically, with airborne starts and stops and stumbles, buzzing left and right with dizzying speed.
I pushed myself up and moved cautiously nearer.
Ten feet from the black hole, I became aware of a subtle change in the air. It felt…thicker…almost sticky, as if I was pressing forward into a mild, unseen paste.
If it was affecting me, with my considerable mass, how was it affecting the bees?
I took three more steps and gasped softly. Bee after bee was vanishing into the black hole above. Drunk on poppy juice, disoriented by abnormally dense air, they were being pulled directly into the spherical abyss.
How long had this been going on? Since the night they’d destroyed the HFK? How many tens of thousands of bees?
I sensed motion above and tipped back my head. Not just bees—bats. Was it messing with their echolocation? They were flying straight into it as if lured by a siren song. Was it confusing the birds, too?
“What are you doing?” A voice cut through the night behind me, and I spun around.
Two of Jada’s commando
sidhe
-seers stood in the moonlight, watching me with cold calculation. I’d been so lost in thought that if I heard them approach, I’d tuned it out.
“Trying to figure out why you’re letting this thing grow unchecked,” I said coolly. I didn’t like being between
sidhe-
seers that knew I had the
Sinsar Dubh
inside me and a black hole that could swallow me alive in an instant.
I eased to the left. They did, too.
I stepped farther to the left and they moved with me, keeping me pinned, black hole at my back, a mere seven or eight feet away. I could feel the light inexorable pull of it and shivered.
“Funny. We’re trying to figure out why Jada is letting
you
go, unchecked,” the tall blonde said icily.
“We have history,” I said. “She knows I won’t use the Book.”
“No one can resist such temptation forever,” the brunette said.
Yeah, well, that was pretty much exactly what I was worried about, but there was no way I would admit it, and certainly not to them, so I evaded. “It’s sucking in bees, bats, small animals. You’ve got to stop it from growing. Burn the ground beneath it. Get rid of the bloody flowers. I don’t know, put up a wall or something to keep the bats out.”
“We don’t answer to you,” the brunette said.
“If you answer to Jada, you know I’m off-limits. So back off.” They were moving closer, threateningly. Both were toned, athletic, draped in guns and ammo. I fervently hoped neither of them had my spear.
“If you’re truly no threat, you’ll accompany us back to the abbey,” the blonde said.
“I told you she was up to no good when she left by the
window, Cara,” the brunette growled. “She’s probably been out here, feeding it.”
So that was how they found me. They’d been watching Jada’s office and I hadn’t come out. “And why would I do that?” I said acerbically.
“Because
sidhe
-seers are the bred enemy of the
Sinsar Dubh
and you want to destroy us,” the brunette said tightly. “What better way to begin than by taking the fortress that houses so much knowledge about our ancient foe?”
“If you truly have good intentions,” Cara said, “you’ll let us secure you, while Jada reconsiders what to do with you. Come willingly, or not. But you’re coming.” While she was still speaking, Cara lunged for me.
If I hadn’t eaten Unseelie flesh, her full frontal charge would have caught me off guard—as it was meant to—but I reacted with inhuman speed, ducking, rolling, gone. To them, it must have seemed I’d freeze-framed like Jada and simply disappeared.
I instantly realized my mistake.
“No, Cara,
no
!” the brunette cried.
I whipped my head around, shoving hair from my face. Cara was on a collision course with the black hole, arms pinwheeling wildly, trying to get her balance back, a look of terror on her face. She hadn’t known I’d eaten Unseelie, couldn’t have anticipated I’d move as fast as Jada, or that there would abruptly be no object in her way to diminish the velocity of her attack.
The brunette dove for her, and all I could think was, Oh, shit, if she touches Cara while Cara’s touching the black hole, they’re both dead. I tackled the brunette, taking her to the
ground hard, then vaulted over her sprawled body, grabbed Cara’s ankle and tripped her.
If not for Unseelie flesh in my veins, I’d never have been able to pull it off. But heightened senses, strength, and speed endowed me with flawless, instant precision. Criminy, I thought, I could get used to moving so fast. No wonder Dani had always hated what she’d called Slow-Mo-Joe walking.
As Cara tumbled to the ground, clearing the edge of the black hole by mere inches, I let out a sharp
whoosh
of relieved breath. One
sidhe
-seer was all I was ever going to have on my conscience. And, although this wouldn’t have been my fault, I’d still have added the guilt to the rest of my sins.
“Ow! Shit! Ow!” Cara was lying directly beneath the black hole, slapping at her face, and I saw a cloud of angry bees swarming her, many of them getting even more disoriented, sucked straight up into the sphere.
“Hold still,” I snapped. “And keep your fucking head down.” There were three feet between her head and instant death.
I crawled forward on my knees and elbows, staying low. The air grew denser, exerting a stronger tug on my body as I approached, and I wondered how much larger it would have to get before people started getting trapped in its event horizon. Twice the size? Three times? And how quickly might that happen? Stretching out long, I snagged Cara’s ankle and began scooting us both backward, dragging her from the bee-covered poppies.
We lay on the ground a few seconds, breathing heavily.
Finally, Cara stopped slapping at herself, propped up on an elbow and looked at me in silence. Her face was covered
with angry red welts that were swelling fast but she paid them no heed.
I met her gaze levelly. I knew what she was thinking. Had I done nothing, both of them would have vanished into the black hole. No one would have ever known. Our quantum enemy left no evidence. They would have simply disappeared. People did all the time around Dublin.
Jaw set, Cara moved farther from the black hole and stood. As the brunette joined her, they exchanged a look, then Cara gave me a slow, tight nod.
She said nothing but I didn’t expect her to. The women Jada had gathered closest to her were some kind of ex-military, and wouldn’t easily change their minds about someone they’d decided was an enemy. But they weren’t fools either, and my actions had created a question in their minds.
It was enough to work with. One day, I wanted to be welcomed at the abbey. Not distrusted, as I’d been from day one.
As they turned and stalked off without a word, I dusted myself off and got up. I couldn’t tell if the sphere had grown appreciably from the sudden influx of bees.
But at least it hadn’t acquired the mass of two
sidhe
-seers.
There was a sudden blast of air, then Jada was standing between the sphere and me.
This was followed by two more rushes of wind behind me. I sensed Barrons’s electrifying presence and Ryodan’s more controlled one.
Jada’s face was disapproving but she extended my spear, handle toward me, blade toward her. “I accept Barrons’s reasoning,”
she said stiffly. “Many of my
sidhe
-seers feel strongly you should be killed. They obey me, still…some are young, unpredictable.”
Gee, duh, really? I didn’t say it. I tensed. With Unseelie flesh in my veins, I was acutely aware of what my spear might do to me. I have a serious love/hate relationship with my weapon. The tip was no longer encased in foil and I wasn’t carrying a sheath. I hadn’t expected to get it back tonight. “You were young once, too. And unpredictable. Gloriously, I might add.”
“And made mistakes, hence my concern about those in my charge. Take the spear.”
“Can I just tell you I actually miss your ‘dudes’ and kind of hate your ‘hences.’ You did a lot of things right, Jada.” I made a point of using her name, underscoring my acceptance of her as she was now.
“Your opinion of the things I did is irrelevant, as is your opinion of my speech. My point is merely that he has a point. And until we’ve resolved this immediate problem,” she jerked her head at the black hole behind her, “we may need you alive.”
She thrust the spear out. Had it been tip toward me, I’d have tested my Unseelie-flesh-fueled speed. I’d considered it back in the abbey when they all freeze-framed out, but opted to leave that particular battle among the three of them, as the last thing I wanted to do was fight any more than I had to with Jada.
Toward that end, I also wasn’t ready to take my spear quite yet. She might not be stubborn Dani but she was laser-focus-on-the-point-at-hand
Jada, and I suspected as long as she continued holding it, she would remain where she was until she saw her goal accomplished.
“Otherwise you wouldn’t care if I remained alive,” I said, stating her unstated implication.
“Otherwise it wouldn’t signify.”
I deflected the pain of the jab, remaining focused on her, realizing I might have a unique insight into Jada. How had I forgotten I’d once gone away and come back different myself? When I believed I’d killed Barrons, grief and rage had turned me into a cold, hyperfocused bitch. Jada might never tell me what she’d gone through in the Silvers but it was a sure thing it hadn’t been a walk in the park. How would someone have reached me during those days and nights of unyielding obsession when I’d found it perfectly reasonable to sleep with my sister’s lover and plot the destruction of the world?
Could
anyone have? “I know you’re not Da—not the person we remember. I’d like to get to know you now.”
“Take the spear. I am what you see. There is no getting to know me.”
“I’d like to hear about your time in the Silvers.” Perhaps the right actions could have thawed me back then. Maybe love, if someone had been able to rattle me enough to feel it. I did recall enough of those dark days to know the last people in the world I’d wanted to see were my parents. Jack Lane would have disturbed me deeply. Staying savage and psychotic would have been extremely difficult around the man who’d taught me to be everything but. What might penetrate Jada’s icy facade? “I want to know what your life was like.”
“My life is now.”
“Jada, I’m sorry I chased you that night. I wish I could do it over again. Keep you from going through.”
“Once again implying that I am a mistake. That I came back wrong.” She looked at Barrons and Ryodan, who were standing behind me in silence. “How
does
one get her to focus?”
I snatched the spear from Jada’s hand. “Bees.” I changed the subject that was clearly as dead as a three-day corpse. “And bats. I wasn’t out here taking a cheery stroll through your gardens. I was investigating. Figure out how to keep the damn things from getting sucked into that hole or we’ll be tearing down the abbey.”
“No one is tearing down my abbey. This evening,” Jada said. “Galway. Three miles east of town there is one of these anomalies much higher in the air. Bring Dancer. I’ll meet you there.”
“This evening, Chester’s,” Ryodan said flatly. “That’s where we’ll be. Unless you think you can save the world alone.”
Jada was motionless a moment then, “The map I saw—”
“The map Dani saw,” he corrected.
“—I assume you’ve continued tracking the anomalies.”
“Every bloody one. And there are more than there were. You’re missing information. I have it.”
“Tonight, then. Chester’s.” She turned and freeze-framed out.
Dawn was pressing at the edges of the drapes by the time Jada sought her private quarters to sleep for a few hours. It
had been three days since she’d last rested, and she wanted to be sharp for the meeting tonight.
Working with a team was so much more complicated than working alone. But none of the things she’d learned Silverside had the least effect on the growing tears in the fabric of their reality. Closing the doors on Cruce had been difficult but doable. Not a single ward or spell she’d mastered affected the black holes. She’d tested them exhaustively on the smaller, isolated ones.
Long ago she’d have pursued her investigation alone, but she’d lost too much and was unwilling to lose more. The girl she’d once been was impulsive, to her own detriment. Jada had conditioned herself to pause before acting. She was uncomfortably aware that very pause might be why she’d failed to predict the Crimson Hag’s moves on the cliff. Intellect and gut were two vastly different things, with disparate strengths and weaknesses.
Imperfect as a child. Imperfect as a woman. But at least she could choose her imperfections.
The Dragon Lady’s library in the east wing was her domain, locked, warded, and spelled so nothing could get in or out unless she permitted it. Inside the ornate yet comfortable book-filled chambers was everything she needed to survive. And a few things she’d gathered for no discernible reason.
Seeing Dancer had been uncomfortable. The others she’d managed with nominal discomfort, reminding herself of one past incident or another, mortaring the wall between them.
Not Dancer. They’d had a single argument long ago about boundaries and friendship, about letting each other breathe, but it had steamed off like fog on a sunny morning.
He’d accepted her on first sight, had said, “Jada,” letting her know right off the bat they were fine, the same as his hand had always held easy, letting her stay or go. He’d said, “Welcome home,” and meant it, smiled, and it was genuine, with none of the rejection she saw in other people’s faces.
Mac, too, seemed different, but Jada had no desire to ponder it.
She moved into the second room of the chamber, draping various bits of shirts and towels and throws over lamps and sconces as she went, dimming the lights. Thanks to Cruce, all lights burned at all hours, and she hadn’t yet fathomed how to degrade that particular magic. She no longer feared Shades in the abbey. Her
sidhe
-seers had exterminated the last of them.