Laura Anne Gilman (24 page)

“No time,” Martin said. “We’re going, now.” And, one to either side of him, they moved out of the chamber, feeling the gaze of a dozen or more preters on them, the hottest one from Stjerne, who paced them, stalking them, the full length of the chamber, although she dared not touch them with hand or magic.

And then they were through the door and into the antechamber, and Jan swore that the air rippled with some kind of weird time-distortion, quantum-folding, magic-shifting thing, because they were running, all three of them, up the passageway and out into the mist-filled world in half the time it had taken them to descend, as though the Hill itself wanted them gone.

She lofted her face to the clouded sky, breathed in the faint sunlight, and then bent over, hands on her knees, and started to hyperventilate.

“Do you need your inhaler?” Martin was at her side, worried, solicitous.

“No. Mmmokay. Just...”

His hand on her shoulder, warm and reassuring, helped. Slowly, the hysteria passed, and she got her breathing under ragged control. His hand withdrew, and she stood up, slowly.

“What...who are you?”

Jan’s heart froze, then she realized that Tyler was looking at Martin, not her.

“A friend,” the kelpie said, his voice tight. Reassured that she was okay, he was scanning the horizon as though looking for something, maybe more of the greensleeves who had accosted them before. Jan rubbed her chest, still aching, and worried about that, too. Was the consort’s word binding on those who’d been cast off?

“A friend.” Tyler sounded dubious, but Jan had other worries to deal with first. “Martin? How do we get home? How do we find the portal?” Worry threatened to turn into panic: had all of this been for nothing? Were they trapped here? Why hadn’t they thought about an exit strategy, damn it?

Because neither of them had expected to survive.

Martin shook his head, still scanning the horizon, not looking at either human. “You have the pass from the consort; call it!”

Call it like a cab, raise her hand and have it come screeching to a stop at their feet? “You’re sure?”

Martin let out a noise that was definitely a horsey snort. “No, I’m not sure. It would be just like preters to let us go and then leave us wandering here for the rest of our lives. But we’re not going to know unless we try!”

“All right.” She’d just taken on a preter and won, stood against magic and come out alive, if not unbruised. Calling a portal should be easy, after that, right? “Um. How?”

“Picture it in your mind.” Tyler, not Martin, answered her and they both turned to look at him in surprise. “Picture it in your head, a doorway taking you where you want to go. Just picture it in yourself, and walk, keep walking.” His voice was hazed again, but firm, as though he was speaking words someone else had told him.

“All right.” She still held his hand in her left; she lifted her right and felt Martin’s larger hand slip against her palm, fingers twining.

“I want to go back,” Tyler said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to go back.”

“I want...” She almost said she wanted to go home, but the memory of the last time she saw her apartment, Toba’s bloodied feathers filling the hall, the turncoats’ mottled skin and sharp-filed teeth approaching on her...

“I want to go to the Center,” she said instead, remembering the prickly velvet of the grass, the feel of clean water on her skin, the comfort of Martin’s warmth next to her as she slept, and the knowledge that AJ was there, his eyes sharp on the sparrow’s fall, like her grandmother used to say. Jan had never understood what the hell that meant, until now. “The Center of Everything.”

And she saw it—no, she felt it inside her, and stepped forward, and kept walking until something shimmered just ahead of her, a match to the feeling in her brain, and then another shade joined it, like a campfire in shades from white to blue, and there was a sense of her, and a sense of Tyler, and she knew that this was right, this was the way home....

And then they stepped forward again into blindness and compression on her ears and nose and lungs squeezing her tighter than the worst-ever asthma attack, until she couldn’t feel either man’s hand in her own, and fought not to panic, not to let go.

Her first time through, she’d been on Martin’s back; she hadn’t realized how much that had shielded her. Like being shoved into a vacuum, icy cold and burning hot at the same time, twirling her around or twirling around her, vertigo making everything spin.

“Just the portal” she chanted inside her brain, focusing on those words and forcing her legs forward, step by step. “It’s just the portal. This is the way home. Keep moving.”

Her lungs collapsed on themselves, her eyes burst, and then they were out and through, and there was air again, and noise, and sight; she could feel her hands again, sweat-slicked and cramped from being crushed in a death-defying grip. Released, she fell to her knees, not on close-cropped, emerald-green grass, but pavement.

“About time you got back,” a woman’s voice said. “I was getting seriously sick of hot dogs.”

Chapter 17

“S
orry we kept you waiting,” Martin said. He didn’t sound sorry. He sounded exhausted.

The portal hadn’t taken them to the Center. They’d come back out where they’d come from. “I want to go back,” Tyler had said, and not specified where. Had he been the one to open the portal, after all, not her? Or had they done it together? She thought about the feel of the portal itself as she looked around, taking in the so-familiar images of their world, and decided that either way, she was okay with the result.

“Typical kelpie,” the woman said in response to Martin’s crack. “I’m Meredith,” she said to Jan. “AJ sent me— Oh!”

The realization that there were three, rather than the two she’d been expecting, caused her to back up and let out a howl that shook the windows of the storefront—thankfully closed for the night. Jan didn’t know what time it was, but it had to be late, based on how still and quiet the air was. But even in the small hours, there was more noise than there had been on the other side of the portal. Once the howl faded, she could hear cars honking and roaring in the distance, the occasional burst of music, someone’s high-pitched screech of laughter, and a man’s voice yelling, and underneath it all an almost audible humming of close-packed humanity that rattled Jan’s bones and made her so relieved she wanted to cry.

When the
lupin—
Meredith—handed Jan her pack, saying, “This smelled like you, is it yours?” she almost did cry.

Electricity. Sweet, sweet electricity. She pulled her cell phone out of the bag and checked, out of habit. The power was almost gone—how long had they been over there?—but she had signal. Full bars.

Full bars, and nobody to call. Would Glory believe any of this, if Jan told her? Would anyone?

Would she have believed?

A sound drew her attention. At her feet, Tyler had gone down to his knees, clutching himself and keening. Meredith’s howl, after the portal, must have been the last straw; whatever alertness he’d reclaimed when they’d left the Court was gone now.

Part of Jan wanted to help him, comfort him, and the other was irritated at him—he was home! He was safe now!

“Janny.”

Martin’s voice, soft, behind her.

“Meredith’s called for help—we need to get him out of here, before someone comes to investigate, or—and I need to talk to AJ. There’s way more going on with the preters than he thought, this thing with the queen; if she’s here, he has to know.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” They couldn’t stay here; they needed to report in. And Martin needed medical attention, and she’d kill for a hot shower and some food, and...

Her head was spinning the way it did when she’d had just that sip or two too much of beer and then lay down, and she wondered, sort of hazily, if she was going to throw up. She didn’t think so; she was pretty sure they hadn’t eaten or drunk anything the entire time they’d been in the other land, except maybe the water she swallowed, which meant...

How long had they been there? No wonder she felt weird. The craving for a hamburger hit her, and Jan’s mouth watered at the imagined taste and smell. Pickles, and lettuce, and cheese, and red meat...

Maybe they could stop at a fast-food place.

She knelt down then and put her arms around Tyler. He shuddered but didn’t draw away from her. Then again, he didn’t acknowledge her, either, keening and rocking. She let him; maybe the movement gave him comfort, the way it did her when she was stressed.

Not that she’d done much of it recently, Jan realized. She hadn’t been able to sit still long enough to try.

“I thought he’d be okay, once we got him home,” she said, lifting her face to look at the supers. Martin’s expression was worried; Meredith just looked irritated, her muzzle wrinkled as if she smelled something bad.

Maybe she did.

“You don’t go with the preters and come back...the same,” Martin said. “He needs help. Help we can give him. Come on.”

A car pulled into the street, another sleek black sedan. Whoever Meredith had called, they’d been nearby. Or maybe the supers had people lurking everywhere, just waiting.

Jan put aside her annoyance and tried to make her voice calm and coaxing. “Tyler. Come on, Tyler, come with me, just a little farther, okay?”

Her voice seemed to soothe him a little. He let her pull him upright and shuffled forward, his body heavier than it should have been, leaning against her. It was a relief to slide him into the backseat, and she had a brief desire to close the door and walk away, to pretend that it was all over, that nothing more would happen.

Instead, she got in next to him, her arm sliding around his shoulder, and waited for Meredith and Martin to join them. They got in, sitting on the seat opposite, and the car pulled away from the curb.

“Where are we going?”

“To meet up with AJ, to start. Then...” Meredith looked meaningfully at Tyler, who had stopped shaking but wasn’t responding to anyone else in the car, leaning against the back of the seat with his eyes closed.

“It’s not his fault,” Martin said sharply. “You would not do so well, after a week or more in the hands of the preters.”

A
lupin
face wasn’t designed to look abashed, but Meredith tilted her head back, until her chin was practically pointing at the ceiling, and Jan understood that she was baring her throat to Martin in apology. The idea of it—a wolf showing submission to a horse—made Jan giggle, even as she knew that it was stress that made it seem funny. Stress and the sudden lack of stress, and exhaustion and worry and...

“Go to sleep,” Martin said to her, as though he knew how close to cracking she was. Hell, he probably did. If anyone did, it would be him. “We’ll be another half hour on the road, and a nap will help.”

“But...”

“He knows you’re here and the preters aren’t. That should be enough, the condition he’s in.”

And there wasn’t anything else she could do for him, anyway, if it wasn’t; she heard that, even though he didn’t say it.

Jan closed her eyes and tried to relax enough to fall asleep, focusing on the feel and sound of Tyler, safe beside her. It didn’t work. Her body was still overstimulated from recent events, exhausted but unable to let go.

The car rolled on, stopping and starting enough that, despite the dark-tinted windows, Jan knew that they were still in the city, and she wondered who—or what—was driving.

There were so many species of supernatural; was there only one kind of preternatural? If so, why? Martin might not know, but AJ would.

Then she wondered why it mattered.

“Looks like you had an...interesting time over there. What are you going to tell AJ?” Meredith’s voice was soft, barely audible, and Jan strained to hear it almost instinctively, like a little kid trying to listen in on her parents talking below stairs.

Martin didn’t hesitate. “The truth.”

“All the truth and nothing but the truth?”

“All the relevant truth.”

“Uh-huh.” Meredith seemed amused by that but not disapproving. There was something under the surface of their words that Jan didn’t understand. “You managed not to kill her. A lot of people are going to lose money on that.”

“There were bets?” Martin sighed. “Of course there were bets.”

He hadn’t killed her. But he hadn’t let her on his back, either. Except she had been on his back, hadn’t she? The memory seemed foggy now, and Jan wasn’t even sure that it had happened. Too much had happened, she couldn’t remember what was real or not. She thought going to fairyland made you forget, but maybe part of it was passing through the portal? But Martin seemed to remember...and Tyler hadn’t forgotten. Maybe it was just that she was so very, very tired all of a sudden....

There was silence as the car turned and then picked up speed. They must have left the city, heading into the suburbs, or maybe north. Jan tried to imagine where they were, but her sense of direction wasn’t good in the first place and the time spent with the preters seemed to have made it even worse; she wasn’t sure that she could have picked up from down just then, if asked. Were they going to the Center? Jan didn’t think you could reach it by car, although at this point she wasn’t sure of anything much at all.

“What are we going to do with it?” the
lupin
asked.

“With what?” Martin sounded like he had almost been falling asleep. He’d been awake as long as she had, and supernatural or no, he had to be exhausted, too.

“It. That.”

“His name is Tyler.”

“All right, okay. But seriously, it—Tyler, then—has been with the preters...how long? Weeks? That’s as good as years, and you know it. That’s damage you can’t repair. Everyone knows that.”

Jan, still exhaustion-fogged, waited for Martin to defend Tyler, to say that the
lupin
was overreacting, or wrong.

“AJ wanted someone who’d been in close contact with the preters. I brought him that. He didn’t say it had to be in perfect mental health.”

Jan tensed, shock running through her body. That hadn’t been what she’d expected to hear at all. Hot tears prickled under her lids, but she refused to let them escape.

“And...” Martin hesitated.

“And?”

“We have to at least try. To help him, I mean. Humans can’t help him. Not after what the preters did, whatever they did. They’d have no idea what they’re treating, even if she told them. They wouldn’t believe her. And she doesn’t really understand, either.” He laughed, harshly. “I don’t, either. I was there, and I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened. Parts of it are sharp and clear, and others are hazy, and I don’t trust the bits that are sharp any more than the hazy. Less, even, because how do I know it was real?”

“What happened? What’s it like, over there?”

“Beautiful. Like the stories say it was here, once. No cities, no smog, no...no people. It was beautiful, and very quiet. I can understand why the queen left; she was probably bored out of her mind.”

“Wait, what?” Meredith sat upright, based on the sounds, and demanded, “What did the queen do? Where did she go?”

“No. I’m only going to tell that story once, and that’s for AJ. But you’ll understand then.”

Meredith said something that sounded unpleasant, and then silence fell in the car.

Jan felt Tyler’s fingers reach for hers, shifting in his sleep the way he used to when they lay in bed together. She slid her fingers against his palm and finally fell asleep, their hands clasped together, his head on her shoulder, and the sound of Martin’s breathing in her ears.

* * *

“Jan. Janny. Come on, we’re here.”

The voice was calling her, enticing her out of the deep velvety darkness she’d crawled up in. She made a murmur of agreement but was too tired to wake up entirely; someone moved her body upright, out of the car, and her body protested, wanting only to snuggle back down and sleep for another week.

“Janny, come on. You have to wake up.”

Martin’s voice. Worried. Why was he so worried? Silly pony.

“Why is she like this?” Meredith, sounding annoyed. “She slept the entire way here. Her leman’s awake, what’s with her?”

“Shut up. Janny. Come on. AJ wants to talk to us.”

She mumbled something again, trying to sink back, and the red-hot impact of a hard hand across her face jolted her forward instead. Her eyes opened, and she glared, tears finally spilling free.

“Wake up,” Martin said, and didn’t apologize, despite his hand raised as though to deliver another blow. “We need to report in to AJ.”

“I’m awake.” It came out more sulky than defiant. She turned her head, one hand coming up to rub at her face, avoiding the still-warm spot where he’d slapped her. “This isn’t the warehouse.” It wasn’t the Center, either. It was a farmhouse, a real farmhouse, with a wide porch and two chimneys at either end, emitting white smoke, and in the back, not too far away, an actual barn painted red. It looked...bucolic, that was the word she was looking for. She could already feel her asthma waking up, too. Why had they brought her here?

“The warehouse isn’t an option anymore,” Meredith answered. “There was...a problem, there. We had to relocate.”

“A problem?” Martin didn’t know anything about it, either, obviously.

“AJ will tell you,” she said, pointedly, giving him a sideways glance Jan couldn’t read. “Come on.”

By now, the front door to the house had opened, and there were figures on the porch, waiting for them. Jan stumbled forward, hoping against hope they would have coffee and maybe the cheeseburger she had been dreaming about. Or even just a steak. Something with a lot of protein, because she felt as if she’d been drained of every bit of energy she’d ever had.

“No. No no no no more I can’t I won’t I can’t I won’t!”

“Tyler!” Jan forgot everything else, swinging around to see what was wrong. He had backed up against the car, staring at the farmhouse with a look of horror...no, not at the farmhouse. At the figures, waiting.

Jan blinked, then realized what the problem was. He’d been too tired, too confused to react, before. But now, to him, they were all preternatural, all dangerous.

“It’s all right, Tyler. They’re...” Friends? No. “They’re here to help us.”

“No!” He seemed to want to say something else, but the words got tangled and stuck in his throat. “No no no no,” and he threw himself backward, hitting his head against the car hard enough to hurt himself, until Meredith got him in a headlock and forced him down onto the ground.

“Yeah, your boy’s going to be
real
useful,” she growled. “Don’t just stand there. Help me!”

And suddenly there were figures around them, and Jan found herself gently but firmly moved out of the way.

“But...” she protested, wanting to be the one who cared for him, needing to be the one holding him. They were supers, they were only going to scare him worse!

“He’ll be all right.” AJ was standing beside her, watching as Tyler was half led, half carried away. “We can give him something to drink that will calm him down, ease his fears. It’s all right, Jan. We’re not going to let him hurt himself. And then, once he’s calmer, we can talk. But for now, you two, come with me.”