Magic at the Gate (10 page)

“Is she okay?” The memories of the fight flashed behind my eyes again. “I don’t know who was badly hurt, I don’t know how the fight ended.” Memories tumbled faster and faster and my mouth couldn’t keep up.

Sweet hells, what was wrong with me? I felt so out of step with myself, with everything.

My hands shook, and tears hovered just behind my eyes again. “I don’t even know what day it is. How long have I been . . . ”

“Dead?” He turned, the coffee in his hand, a smile on his lips. “Let’s start there. We didn’t think you were going to come out of that, you know. There’s not a single historical footnote indicating survival. People can’t just stroll over into death, easy as you please. Those who do never come strolling home again.

“You, my dear lass, are either very lucky or very strong. And if you ever try to do that again, I will break your damn legs.”

He handed me the coffee and sat in the chair.

“You were in death, Allie. The real deal. You were dead. And now you’re alive. That’s a bloody miracle.”

“Yay?” I said. It came out kind of small and breathy and Shame just shook his head.

“The storm,” he continued, “hit eleven days ago. Detective Stotts brought you here three days ago. You’ve been sleeping most of that time. Despite the fact that there’s no logical reason you should be alive, you are healthy. With enough rest, the doctor thinks you’ll be making a full recovery. Not that any of us know how you did it.”

I took a sip of coffee, trying to get my head around losing a week of my life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all that hard. I’d had a lot of practice with such things.

“My dad,” I said. “He was there, with me. Told me how I could breathe, how I could survive.” I stared at the wall, remembering the mutated Veiled, and the city of death, the pillar and Mikhail.

“Do you remember it?” he asked.

I nodded. “Is my notebook around here somewhere?” I asked. “I want to write it down in case I forget.”

“Don’t know where your book is. But I can get you something to write in.” He walked over to the dresser again, dug in the top drawer, and pulled out a pen and scratch pad. “Good enough?” he asked, holding up both.

“Yes. Thanks.” The coffee was doing me some good, or maybe it was the food. Whatever it was, I felt a little better.

I took a solid five minutes writing down everything I could remember in my quick shorthand.

“What was it like?” Shame finally asked when I stopped writing.

“It was a city. A broken city that looked a little like Portland. But no angels, no flames. It wasn’t what I thought death would be.” I picked up an orange slice on the tray and ate it.

“We ended up at a massive treelike structure. Only it wasn’t a tree. Dad said it was the pillar of Death magic. He said it’s like the wells and holds the magic in death. Inside that was where we found Zayvion. The details are sort of fuzzy.”

“Through the eyes of the living, only death’s mask can be seen.”

“Poetry?” I asked, going for a second slice of orange.

“It’s from the old texts. Death magic. Means only the dead can see death for what it really is. The living mind can’t interpret what it’s seeing, so it supplies its own images.”

“I can tell you there were no angels there.”

He shrugged. “Have you ever met an angel? For all you know they might look like toaster ovens.”

“Not a lot of toaster ovens either.” But I was smiling, and some of the intensity in Shame’s gaze softened as he leaned back.

“So who else was hurt from the fight?” I asked.

“No one got out of that mess without some kind of injury. Everyone who didn’t run is recovering. Mum’s doing some physical therapy. The hit she took, the fall . . . ” He stopped and I could almost taste the anger pouring through him. “She has some nerve damage. Doctors don’t know how extensive the damage will be. She still needs more time to heal.”

“Jingo Jingo?” I asked, knowing he was the one who had hurt Maeve.

So much for the intensity going down a notch. “He’s free, gone, disappeared. Took Sedra with him, and fuck all if we can catch a sniff of where they are. Fucking backstabbing bastard.”

“He tried to kill us all, didn’t he?” I asked. I was there, I’d seen it, but I needed to hear it from Shame, needed to know that what had happened before I stepped into death had been real, and not just a bad dream.

“Fucking sold us out. We don’t know why he’s holding Sedra—haven’t gotten a ransom note, demands, or any contact from him at all. Think he took most of the disks with him too, though we took a few dozen and locked them up down in the vaults. He’s not the only one who’s turned against the Authority.

“Liddy’s dead.” His voice cracked. She had been his teacher a lot longer than she had been mine. Taught Death magic, the discipline Shame used. For all I knew, she had been his teacher since he was a kid.

He pulled his hair back off his face again. “There wasn’t anything left of her to bury.”

“Chase and Greyson?”

“Locked up.”

“Downstairs by the well?”

“No. They’re locked away in a place where people who really piss off the Authority are taken.”

“Are you going to tell me where that is?” Seemed to me they were our best link to finding Jingo Jingo and Sedra, and whoever else was involved in this mess since they had turned on us all and sided with Jingo Jingo.

“I don’t know where it is. Only the Voices get that information.”

Voices of the Authority were members who spoke for a certain discipline of magic. Maeve was the voice for Blood magic, Victor for Faith, Liddy had been for Death, and Sedra was both the voice for Life magic, and also the Head of the Authority. I guess my father had been the voice for Flux magic—the newest, and technologically integrated, form of magic use.

I wondered who would be the new Voice for Death magic now that Liddy was dead and Jingo Jingo had betrayed the Authority. I wondered if they were planning on Closing Jingo Jingo when they found him, or if they were going to lock him away too.

If I had any say about it, he’d be dead.

Because if I was right, he was the one behind Greyson and Chase shoving Zayvion into death. He had tried to kill Maeve, betrayed the Authority, kidnapped Sedra, and Chase and Greyson had fought right alongside him. He was quickly acquiring a long list of crimes. And those were only the things we knew about. What else was he involved in that we didn’t know?

“Do you think Jingo Jingo’s behind it all?” I asked. Flat, emotionless. That strange disconnect again, where too many emotions made me feel like I had none.

Shame nodded. “Even if he’s not the mind behind it all, his hands are so dirty there’s not enough water in the world to wash his soul clean.”

“Has anyone gotten into Chase’s and Greyson’s heads to see what they know?”

“Victor’s been working on it. But there’s not a lot left for him to work with.”

“What do you mean?”

“They broke. Their minds broke. Chase and Greyson aren’t much more than vegetables. Empty, drooling husks.” His voice dropped into a growl, and his hands were fists.

“Soul Complements,” he said. “Ain’t no happily ever after.”

I looked over at Zayvion. He was still breathing, still, to all outward appearances, sleeping.

Shame said his soul was safely back in his body. But there were no guarantees. There were never any guarantees for Soul Complements. I was beginning to wonder why they let anyone find out they were meant for each other in that way. What good ever came of it?

For an organization that stole people’s memories and magic, it didn’t seem like it would take much to simply forbid Soul Complements to ever be together or to ever remember that they had been together.

Shame looked at Zayvion too. “Not you and Zayvion. That story’s not done being told.”

“You really think we’re going to have a happily ever after?”

“Maybe not bubblegum and roses, but yes. I think you two are going to be the exception to the rule.”

“Why not you and Terric?”

“First, we’d have to test to see if we really are Soul Complements. Don’t look at me like that. And second, he and I are better off if we stay out of grenade-throwing distance.”

“He saved your life.”

“I know.”

“You could have killed him when he was trying to save you during the fight. He held you for a long time on that battlefield. Fought off the Hungers and other beasts. Protected you. There was plenty of life and magic in him. You could have drained him to save yourself.”

“I know.”

“And you didn’t.”

“I know.”

He didn’t say anything else.

I knew a brick wall when I saw one. I wasn’t going to get any more out of Shame about the state of his relationship with Terric. At least he wasn’t arguing. He might not want to think about it, but he knew something had changed between him and the silver-haired Closer. Something more than just a strange magic crystal beating in his chest.

“So Jingo Jingo is missing with Sedra, Chase and Greyson are in jail. Who else decided to pick a fight in the middle of the storm? Mike Barham?” I thought I remembered the Closer who had come down from Seattle to help with the storm, and whom Shame had tried to stab with a cheese knife, fighting against us but I wasn’t sure.

“Mike’s as gone as Jingo. Dane Lannister’s missing too. It’s a mess. That’s what I wanted to tell you before Mum showed up. The Authority is falling down. No one trusts anyone—for good reason.”

“I trust you.” Yes, I was surprised that came out of my mouth. I wasn’t the trusting type. But it was the truth. I did trust him. He had done everything in his power to try to save Zayvion, his mother, and me. I knew where his heart was, even if he didn’t.

“Yes, well. You should know better than that,” he said with a smile.

“So who are the good guys?”

He took a deep breath and stood again, stretching. Even though he looked really tired, there was a restlessness in him that I hadn’t seen before. Like he knew the time for running was long gone but the danger hadn’t hit yet, and all that was left to do was wait.

He moved back over to the carafe and poured some coffee into the other cup.

“Good guys. Well, in the most general terms, me, you, Zay, Terric, Victor, and Mum. Most of the Seattle crew—Hayden, the Georgia sisters, Nik, and Joshua, though I don’t think Joshua is well enough to fight. The twins, Carl and La, and of course Sunny.” He poured a generous share of cream into his coffee, then spooned in three heaps of sugar.

“There are other people who weren’t at the storm, who aren’t causing trouble. And many, many more throughout Portland who say they’re all for one for the Authority but don’t see the need to get involved in the fight.

“Fine by me, I say. That way I don’t have to trust anyone outside the small circle I just mentioned.” He took a drink of his coffee, poured in a little more cream, then stood at the foot of my bed.

“The Authority in Portland isn’t the only governing body over magic. Every district has one. But we are unique because we have four wells in such a small space. Most cities have one well, and need only one Voice to govern for the Authority’s rules. We have four wells, four Voices, and of course your da’s idea of magic—the networks and storage cisterns that are a man-made well of magic that we have to take care of. So four natural and one technological well means there’s a lot of strong magic here and a lot of strong people with strong opinions.

“Districts outside Portland are waiting and watching what happens here. Other cities, other members of the Authority are waiting to see if we implode, break down, break up. They want to see how we fail, and who loses, so they can learn from our mistakes.”

“They won’t let us die just so they can learn a lesson, will they?”

“It’s an old, old business, magic,” he said. “Rules aren’t as neat and pretty as the modern world likes to make them. So yes, they’d watch us die if it meant they learned something about magic and governing it. But it’s not just our deaths they want—they want to see if this grand experiment has failed.”

“What grand experiment? The disks?”

“No, magic being ruled by the few, in five different disciplines. In the old days, there was just one discipline of magic. And then that was broken into light and dark magic.”

“Because of Leander and Isabelle,” I said.

He gave me a curious look. “That’s right. Because of Leander and Isabelle. Over the centuries it became clear that magic was being used in four basic forms—Life, Death,

Blood, and Faith—and none of the disciplines was considered stronger than the others. That’s the question now: what magic discipline should rule, and how? I’d say Jingo Jingo has aligned himself on the side of Death magic. It’s just a matter of time before someone champions Faith magic, Blood magic, Life magic.”

“What are we championing?”

“That all magic is equal. More than that: all magic should be used equally. Including light and dark magic. Ever since the break, using dark magic almost always leads to insanity. It’s a heated argument as to whether or not blending dark magic into light magic will fix that problem. And there isn’t an answer to be found.

“So that leaves us with light magic in its four disciplines. It was going all right for a while. For years. Then your da had to go and give magic to the public and invent technology that can pipe it through a city. It polarized the Authority—and not just here in Portland. Very few people thought it was a good idea to put magic in the common man’s hands. Treating all disciplines as equal, and giving magic and technology a Voice was our shot at showing that the right way to rule magic, safe for us, safe for the common man, was to treat
all
disciplines equally, including magic used through technology.

“If we fail at keeping all disciplines equal, it will be one more nail in the coffin for the modernization of magic.”

“But doctors use magic,” I said. “Teachers use magic. Scientists use magic. There’s a lot of good that’s come out of giving it to the common man.”

He gave me half a nod. “Listen, this war, this fight over how magic should be used, as one discipline of light by a handful of people, or five disciplines known by a few people, or allowing the study and use of dark magic—these things have been brewing and clashing and churning for a couple thousand years. We’re just late to the game is all.”