Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3) (12 page)

BOOK: Gods and Swindlers (City of Eldrich Book 3)
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“There’s a gateway?” Meaghan asked. She glanced at Emily, who gave her a confused look and shrugged.

“Well, yeah,” the kid said. “You should know. You opened it.” He pointed at the floors. “Why else install carpet covered in sigils? You called me
.
It’s kind of loud, to be honest.”

“Ah,” Emily said. “That’s why it pulsates.”

Meaghan glared at her. “Who the hell was the designer?”

“Some Italian firm. Bottaio Design. Tony recommended them, remember?”

Meaghan groaned. “Right. The firm he hired outside of the procurement rules. With the money from Owen’s boss.”

“Yeah,” the kid said. “That Luka guy. What’s his deal? Do you know?”

“No,” Meaghan snapped. “Do you? And why does it smell like Doritos?”

“I picked up a bag at the 7-Eleven. Had them for breakfast. This rug’s been clanging at us since last night, but I figured nobody would be here until morning, so I did a snack run. That’s the hardest part of the job. No pizza delivery. No Big Gulps. Too much, you know, medieval food.”

Meaghan nodded. She could sympathize. “My brother throws a fit anytime I try to eat junk food. What’s your name?”

“Dustin. Um, Brother Dustin. Sorry. We tech guys aren’t that formal with each other.”

“What world are you from?”

“Oh, uh, this one. Originally. The archive isn’t really in a world. It’s a bubble. It’s more like Fahraya used to be.” His ears grew red. “Before you, you know, blew it up.”

Meaghan rolled her eyes. “I didn’t blow it up.”

“Mmm,” Dustin said and seesawed his hand in the air.

Meaghan glared at him. “All right, fine, technically yes, I did blow it up, but only to keep everybody else from getting sucked into the void. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“You need that frog spell yet?” Emily asked.

“Maybe,” Meaghan said. “If Brother Dustin doesn’t behave himself.”

His eyes widened. “I am behaving. I’m here because you called me, okay? I’ve been in the brotherhood for like a year, stuck in that archive, trying to set up servers that won’t get fried by all the background magic, and they sent me because I’m human and because everybody else is . . .” Dustin trailed off and stared at his feet.

“Everybody else is what?” Meaghan prompted.

Dustin cleared his throat and said, in a small voice, “Everybody else is scared of you.”

Meaghan grimaced. “Give me a break.” She turned to Emily. “Am I scary?”

“Yes,” Emily said, “you can be.”

Meaghan shook her head. “So, now that you’re here, can I have those files?”

“I can help you put in a formal request.” Dustin stared at his feet again. “It’s not really up to me. They only sent me because I . . . well, I volunteered. If I don’t get some decent food and download some movies and games and stuff, I’m gonna go nuts. It’s not like I got Wi-Fi over there.”

“You aren’t working with the Italian design firm?” Meaghan pointed at the carpet. “The ones who gave us this?”

Dustin shook his head. “No. Usually people use chalk on floorboards, that kind of stuff. They don’t actually weave it into the carpet. Not sure how to handle that. The signal is super strong, but we thought it was this building. If somebody came up with this carpet design by accident, we’re gonna have problems.”

“Let me see if I can track them down,” Emily said. “Somebody from the design firm was supposed to be here.”

“Are they clued in?” Meaghan asked.

“Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll see what I can find out.” Emily pulled her phone from her pocket and headed for the stairs. “Excuse me a moment.”

The kid, Dustin, breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought she’d never leave. I have something I need to show you.” He held up his index finger. “Gimme a sec. Wait here.”

He disappeared down the hallway. Meaghan heard a whispered conversation—an intense debate, it sounded like—then Dustin reappeared. “We heard about what happened last night in the woods. I told Sam this wasn’t the time, but he really wants to meet you. Says he wants to help.”

“Who’s Sam? And how did you hear about last night?”

Dustin looked at the pulsating floor. “Uh, Melanie. The Troon.”

Meaghan nodded. “I know Melanie.” She wasn’t going to add that Melanie was at her house. Dustin seemed harmless, but until she had more information, she was going to let him do the talking. “So, who’s Sam?”

“He’s not like the others,” Dustin said. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Why would I hurt him?”

“Dustin, it is all right,” a voice behind Dustin said, in a stilted accent that sounded familiar. “I believe she will not harm me if I do not give her cause.”

“Huh, not sure I believe that, bro.” Dustin’s face grew pink.

“What kind of a psycho do you think I am?” Meaghan asked. “I don’t randomly attack people. I promise I won’t hurt him. Who the hell is Sam?”

A small figure, clad in gray, stepped from behind Dustin. “I am Sam.”

One of the fair folk stood before her. She took a step back and scanned the room for something made of steel, anything. The city seemed to have hired the tidiest contractors they could find.

It’s a construction site. There has to be something.

“Dustin,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, “you need to get back through your gateway and close it as fast as you can. I don’t know what Sam looks like to you, but he’s—”

“An elf,” Dustin finished. “Yeah, I know. But he’s a good guy. He’s not like the others.”

“He tell you that?” Meaghan backed toward the front entrance. If she could get down the stairs, she could grab a stapler, or . . .

“Please,” the elf said. “Dustin, tell her what you see.”

“Uh, he’s about four feet tall and kinda skinny, and—no offense, dude—kinda ugly. He’s not doing the
Lord of the Rings
thing on me. I can see him for what he is. Sammy, I knew she was gonna have trouble with this.”

The elf held out his hands and walked slowly toward her. “Please. I am not like them. I am . . . I do not feed on humans. I need your help.”

Meaghan was almost to the front door of the suite when she saw the toolbox behind the open door. She grabbed a claw hammer in one hand and a large screwdriver in the other and waved them at the elf. “Not one step closer. Dustin, get the hell out of here.”

Dustin shook his shaggy head, his face twisted in misery. “I told you she wasn’t ready. Please don’t hurt him. He’s my friend. Listen to him.”

The elf kneeled in front of Meaghan and pulled something out of his shirt.

Then Natalie walked in, Emily on her heels.

Chapter Fifteen

N
ATALIE TOOK ONE
look at the scene in front her and turned on Emily. “That’s your game? You bitch.” She threw a hex at Emily, who countered.

Meaghan heard Dustin screech, “Oh, shit,” as he dove to the floor.

She stared down at the elf and saw what he held in his hand. An iron nail twisted into a circle hung from a fine chain around his neck. The elf was wearing iron.

He was wearing iron. Voluntarily.

A spell crackled past her. Meaghan threw herself on top of the elf, protecting him from the spells Natalie was shooting at him. Meaghan looked up and saw Emily crouched over Dustin as Natalie threw spells at her. Colored sparks cascaded in the air near Emily but didn’t touch her. Meaghan had seen enough witchcraft up close to know that Emily had conjured a barrier and Natalie’s spells were breaking against it. It also meant that Emily couldn’t shoot back.

“They aren’t fighting back!” Meaghan shouted. “Goddammit, Natalie, stop!”

Natalie threw another spell at the elf.

Meaghan, still shielding him, felt a tiny static electric shock.
That one must have been a doozy.
“Knock it off! One more spell and I’m kicking your ass into the middle of next month. Dustin, Emily—you okay?”

“Fine,” Emily said from her corner.

“No,” Dustin wailed from the floor. “You scared the shit outta me. Is Sam okay?”

“Mmph,” Sam said.

Meaghan realized she was crushing him into the magical carpet and rolled off him. “You okay?”

He took a shuddering breath. “Yes.” He gazed up at Meaghan, awe in his eyes. “You protected me. My people are your enemy, but you protected me. You are as fearless as they say.”

Meaghan shrugged. “Don’t know about that. But I saw the iron. You wear it by choice?” She struggled to her feet.

He nodded. “As proof that I have forsaken the old ways. Magic is destroying my people. It is a drug for them and it grows scarce. This is the way forward.”

Natalie stared at the elf. “You protected that?” She glared at Meaghan. “Are you nuts?”

Meaghan glared back. “No. Are you? Shoot first, ask questions later? If it hadn’t been for me and Emily, you could have killed these two. The elf, okay, you got reasons there, but Dustin?”

“Who’s Dustin?”

“I’m Dustin,” he said as he pulled himself to his feet. He mustered as much dignity as he could in his wrinkled brown robe. “Brother Dustin, Keeper of the Word.”

“Oh,” Natalie said, a sheepish look on her face. “My bad.” She pointed at the elf. “But where did that come from?”

“That is Sam,” Meaghan said. “And he appears to be quite a bit different from the evil little shit in my basement.”

Sam nodded. “That is why I am here. You have captured one of the—” he screeched something that sounded like a tomcat playing an out-of-tune violin. He glanced around at the confused looks. “I am sorry. Dustin keeps reminding me how discordant our language is to the human ear. The elf you have captured is a member of the secret . . . what is the word . . . police? The ones who are charged with keeping the old order.”

Meaghan nodded. “He appears to be somewhat immune to iron. Even wearing a chain, he confused us—well not me, I’m impervious. But the iron didn’t interfere with his magic.”

Sam sucked in a breath, and looked at Meaghan with what appeared to be fear in his eyes. “I have heard tales of such ones. They do not fear iron but still have magic.”

“Tales? Isn’t that what you are?”

Sam shook his small head. “I am one of the . . . we have a word, but it will hurt your ears . . . it is an ugly word, even for our language. The
diseased
is the closest human word. We also do not fear the iron, but we have no magic.”

Meaghan frowned. “What does that mean? You can’t use magic?”

“We cannot use magic and magic does not affect us.” His look grew dark. “They use other ways to control us.”

Meaghan shook her head. “I have a better word than diseased. Impervious.”

The elf’s eyes shone. “That is an honorable name.” He bowed. “Thank you.”

Meaghan smiled at him for a moment. This Sam was either the most gifted bullshit artist she’d ever encountered, or he was truly something different. “But the one we captured. He does have magic—a lot of it apparently—and he’s resistant to iron, but we’re not sure how much.”

Sam shook his small head. “This is very bad. We have heard they wanted to breed ones who could withstand the iron and have magic, too. But until now, they were rumors only.” He shut his eyes for a long moment, still shaking his head. “The one you captured let himself be taken. You must not let him go or he will tell them all he has learned about you.”

“Yeah, we already figured that out.” Meaghan decided not to tell him any more until she’d spoken to Melanie, who, it seemed, had her own secrets. She’d mentioned a mysterious “we” a few times, but Meaghan hadn’t attached any significance to it until now. And Melanie appeared to know all about whatever secret the Donners were keeping about Terry’s past.

She felt the usual anger rise and took a deep breath.
Russ is right. People keep secrets for a lot of reasons. This isn’t only about me.
She took another deep breath and felt the anger dissipate. One crisis at a time.

She glanced over at Emily. “You learn anything about the carpet?”

Emily gave her a grim smile. “Interestingly enough, our contact for Bottaio Design has disconnected his phone and their website has been taken down. I can’t believe this”—she pointed at the floor—“was a coincidence. They knew exactly what they were doing when they installed it. They knew it contained magic.”

“Uh,” Dustin said. “These are the specific sigils to call us. Whoever did this wanted us to reach out to you.”

“Knowing it would spur me to request my father’s lost files and learn more about the fair folk.” Meaghan glanced at the elf. “Sam, do you know anything about this? Did you set this up?”

Sam, looking bewildered, shook his head. “This is my first time in the human world. I have been hiding in the archive since I escaped from the . . . there is not an exact word. The place where they force us to work until we die.”

Meaghan felt sick, as her suspicion of Sam evaporated. Slave labor camps for non-magical elves seemed characteristic of what she knew about the fair folk. “Humans do have words for such places, too many, much to our shame.” She touched Sam’s skinny shoulder. “I’ll help you. What do you need from me?”

“Meaghan, you can’t trust—”

“Natalie, shut up. You sound like Steph. No one wanted me to trust Owen either and look how that worked out. If he’s a traitor, we’ll know soon enough.” She squatted to bring herself eye level with Sam. “What do you need from me?”

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