The Future Falls (41 page)

Allie winced as the door slammed and paused her pursuit long enough to shout, “We can't let her go Wild!”

“Alysha.”

The power of her name held her in place.

“Charlotte's voice held nothing but anger and grief. If she were breaking with the family, we'd have heard it.” Auntie Gwen stood and put the mugs in the sink. “She'll do what she has to.”

Holding Graham's shirt tightly around her, Allie reached out and felt Charlie's unmistakable presence heading for the roof, radiating
leave me the fuck alone
. The profanity came through loud and clear. “It sucks,” she muttered, turning back toward the kitchen. “It sucks that she can't be with Jack. It sucks that ritual's going to screw up any lesser connection they might have built between them. And it sucks that there's a stupid big rock on its way to destroy the whole stupid world. The whole thing sucks!”

Allie half expected an impatient request to stop stating the obvious, but to her surprise, Auntie Gwen merely turned, leaned on the counter, and said, “I know. I was the one who spent five hours with Bea last night going over Jane's list of those in the first circle she'd be willing to send west.”

“Five hours?”

“It's complicated.”

“Why not the same circle that went up against the Dragon Queen? Except for Auntie Jane, of course,” Allie added quickly when Auntie Gwen frowned.

“Meredith won't leave Jane. Ellen and Christie won't leave Arthur.” She made a face that pulled Allie's mouth into a reluctant smile. “Five hours, Alysha. Five minutes more and we'd have needed another name on the list
because I've have strangled Bea. How fond are you of this broken mug?” she added, turning back to the sink. “Throw it out or put it aside for Jack to fix?”

“Jack's gone.”

“He'll be back.”

“How can you be so sure?” There had been no doubt in Auntie Gwen's voice. Not that the aunties usually allowed any doubt they might be feeling to show, but . . .

“Because he'll do everything he can to save Charlotte.”

“And the family.”

“Probably.”

“Probably?” Allie's right hand spread over the gentle swell of her belly. “He's a Gale!”

“He's a Dragon Prince and they'd laugh at the concept of noblesse oblige. Saving the family will save Charlotte. Saving the world will save Charlotte.” Auntie Gwen set the last of the rinsed cups on the drainboard and faced Allie again. “I honestly don't give a rat's ass about his motivations. The family can save itself without him, but it'll be a lot easier with him. The world . . .” She spread her hands. “Well, you don't want to spend time with Bea if she misses
Top Gear
.”

“How can she?” Allie sighed. “It's always on. I'm not sure even an asteroid can stop it.” Before Auntie Gwen could reply, the apartment door opened and Allie spun around, Charlie's name spilling out even though she
knew
her cousin was still on the roof.

Joe shook his head and gripped her shoulder lightly as he passed. “According to a Brownie who heard it from a flock of Pixies, Jack opened a gate and went through to the UnderRealm, but he wasn't alone. There was an older dragon with him.”

“The dragon that's been flying over the store!”

“It's unlikely there's two of them here so, yeah, probably.”

“If Jack's gone to find out if the Courts can teach him . . .” Auntie Gwen made a face that suggested she wasn't too happy about a sentence containing more than one
if
. “. . . what part would one of his uncles be playing?”

“Maybe he contacted them to see if they could help. With the Courts,” Allie added as Joe shook his head. “Not the asteroid.”

“Be like taking a gun to a knife fight,” Joe sighed. “Still, if it comes to threats, the illusion he has his other family behind him couldn't hurt.”

“Did the Pixies say which Dragon Lord it was?”

“No, the Brownie said the Pixies had fixated on Jack, repeating the word gold like they were Pratchett dwarves three sheets to the wind.”

“Pixies read Pratchett?”

“No.” Joe brushed cookie crumbs off the front of his jacket. “But the Brownie's a big fan. Both the Pixies and the Brownie were surprised at the lack of bloodshed. Given Dragon Lords.”

“Maybe it's Adam, then. He's usually on Jack's side.”

“You should go tell Charlotte, Alysha.”

She should. Now they knew for sure. “What are you going to do?”

“Since Graham has the boys . . .” Auntie Gwen crossed to the circle of Joe's arms. “. . . we're going home to spend at least an hour forgetting the world's about to end. Maybe two, if no one calls.”

*   *   *

Allie paused at the top of the stairs to catch her breath, sagging against the doorframe, right hand absently tracing charms over her belly. She'd been exhausted for the first trimester of her last pregnancy, full of energy for the second, and had waddled through the third. So far, pregnancy number two was taking the same route. From where she stood, she could see Charlie sitting on one of the loungers, knees tucked into the narrow space between it and the other, shoulders hunched under her jacket. Her hair fell forward over her face, the sunlight making the blue streak look turquoise. She wasn't humming, or tapping, or making any kind of noise at all. She looked . . .

Not sad. Allie'd seen Charlie sad. Unhappy. Anxious. Nervous. This was something new.

Defeated.

She looked defeated.

But only until Allie started moving, then she shook her hair back and looked like Charlie again.

“You don't have to put on an act for me,” Allie sighed, crossing the roof.

“I don't have to wallow in front of you either, and as I don't have to, I'd rather not.” She held up her hand, the light glinting off the screen of her phone. “Did you leave this up here?”

Allie sat down on the chaise and leaned against Charlie's shoulder. “No.
But you know what they're like.” It was colder on the roof than she'd expected and she wondered if Charlie was missing Jack's heat. Stupid. Of course she was.

“My mother called. She wanted to tell me that the twins love Australia.”

“Of course they do. Everything's trying to kill them.”

Charlie made a noise that could have meant everything was totally justified or that the twins weren't as bad as all that. Allie wasn't sure which; she wasn't as good at interpreting noises as Charlie, but on reflection decided it had to be the former.

“Do you think we can set a branch there?”

She pushed against Charlie's side until her cousin pushed back. Different skills, matched strength. “I think we have to try. But . . .” In the pause, the Dragon Queen rose above the park, Graham gave himself to her, David gave himself to the family, a heartbeat defined the difference between survival and destruction. “. . . I think we won't know until the last minute and there's as good a chance it won't work as it will. Joe says a Brownie says the Pixies say . . .”

Leaning away, Charlie stared at her. “Seriously?”

“. . . that Jack opened the gate to the UnderRealm and went through with another dragon.”

“Which one?”

“They didn't say. Just that he was older.”

“They're all older.”

“Pixies.”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“The Pixies said there was no bloodshed, so it was probably Adam.” Adam was the oldest of Jack's uncles and had the least to prove. “If the Dragon Lords found out about the asteroid . . .”

“How?”

“The Courts?”

Charlie shrugged in a
works for me
kind of way so Allie continued. “Maybe Adam came through to convince Jack to go home and Jack, in turn, convinced Adam to go with him to the Courts.” She'd come up with that possibility during the interminable climb up the stairs.

“That's a tidy wrap-up, but a lot of assumptions.” Charlie flipped her phone from hand to hand. “He didn't say good-bye.”

“Probably because he knew you'd try to stop him.”

“Damn right I'd try to stop him.”

“If the Courts can teach him . . .”

“He'll pay in pain, Allie. And in humiliation for feeling it.”

She could feel Charlie trembling and knew it wasn't from the cold.

“And I'll have to hand him over to four years of that. I don't think I can. Millions, no, billions are going to die, and I'd let it happen rather than have Jack suffer at the Courts for four years.”

Allie wanted to say,
“No you wouldn't.”
She didn't. There was less than no point in arguing a certainty. Instead, she shrugged and said, “Maybe they won't be able to teach him.”

“And how fucked up am I that losing a chance to save the world would be good news. What kind of world are your babies going to grow up in, Allie-cat?”

“One without a diaper service is my guess.”

“Allie . . .”

She tugged one of Charlie's hands away from her phone and laced their fingers together. “My boys are going to grow up in a world where they'll know that you did everything you could to make it the best possible world they could grow up in. Regardless of how many people we manage to save.”

“You're sure . . .”

“I have
always
been sure of you.”

Charlie's sigh sounded a little shaky, but her lips were warm and soft and, well, sure. After a moment or two, she sighed again, but more in relief, Allie thought. As if she'd set aside at least some of the burdens she carried. “I'm a little surprised the aunties aren't trying to figure out a way for you to pop the seventh son of a seventh son of a seventh son of a Gale out in time to save the day.”

“They don't even know what he'll be able to do.”

“They're fairly certain he's going to be something spectacular.”

“How do you know they're
not
trying to figure out a way?”

“Good point.” Allie could tell without looking that Charlie was staring at the other lounger and wondered how often she'd met Jack up here after a night out. Wondered what they'd talked about. Didn't wonder where Charlie'd found the strength to do the right thing because it was Charlie.

“I guess I know how he felt all those times when I left him without saying good-bye.” Her voice was matter of fact.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I must have done something wrong.”

Allie winced. “You haven't . . .”

“I know, sweetie, I know. Fortunately, and I recognize the irony, fortunately, I'm not seventeen. And,” she added after a moment, “that asteroid is one hell of a distraction. Or it would be if every possible way of stopping it didn't involve Jack and I getting screwed. And not in a fun way.”

Maybe Katie . . . except maybe meant fire. A little afraid of how much she was willing to risk Katie to save Charlie further heartache, Allie shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“A little. And I have to pee.” She stood, hip pressed against Charlie's shoulder and tucked the blue strand of hair behind her cousin's ear. “You coming in?”

“No.” Charlie's hand closed around hers for a second, then let her go. “I have some thinking to do.”

“You used to go to crappy bars to think.”

“I used to think about different things.”

Charlie didn't relax until Allie reached the bottom of the stairs—ignoring the fact that Allie was not only a healthy young woman who had a perfectly normal pregnancy once before, for certain values of the word normal, but that she was a Gale and the universe didn't allow pregnant Gales to trip and fall. Although it seemed to have no trouble dropping enormous rocks on them.

Rock.

Singular.

With all they could do, she couldn't believe they couldn't stop a falling rock.

Surviving it wasn't enough, she had to save Jack, and, if truth be told, herself. Not being able to touch him outside of ritual having touched him within ritual would flay pieces off her soul every time she saw him. The only way to keep them out of ritual was to solve the problem.

Problem? Right.

A pigeon strutting back and forth on the edge of the roof froze as her
laugh slid toward cackling thirty years too soon. When an auntie started cackling, the rest of the family battened down.

Solve the problem, save the world.

Save not only her family, but Gary and Kiren and Dan . . .

Dan.

“Remember the bears, Charlie.”

She hadn't given the last thing she'd heard Dan say much thought at the time. Given Calgary's proximity to the mountains, it wasn't that surprising a thought for him to have overheard and some poor bastard running into bears in the wild would probably have provided the focus necessary to get through her earworm and into his head. Except . . .