The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (82 page)

BOOK: The Madness Project (The Madness Method)
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“That’s…”  I backed up a step.  “Misting Row?”

“Think you can find it?  I’ll stay and make sure these folks
get organized and out safely.  You Shift and get there fast.  I think Shade
needs you.”

“Right,” I said, feeling a bit numb.  “See you, Derrin.”

But he’d already turned away, gathering the freed mages
together in the center of the room. 

Misting Row.  It couldn’t be.

After eleven years, I was finally going home.

 

*  *  *  *

I landed just outside the front gate, but for moments after
I Shifted I just knelt on the wet paving stones, staring up at the house
looming above me.  It was smaller than I remembered, and the front lawn had got
all overgrown with trailing rose bushes and vines.  The front gate sagged on
rusting hinges, its boards all twisty and stained from years of bad weather. 
But the smell of the earth and the grass took my heart stumbling through a maze
of memories.

Finally I picked myself up and walked, slow, down the path
to the old red door.  It stood ajar, and it creaked something fierce when I
pushed on it.  For a minute I just left my hand resting on the rough wood,
staring back at the lawn and the gnarled trees and the sparrows flitting in the
branches.

A voice traced into my mind, calling out a memory.

“Wouldn’t it be swell to fly?”

I stood next to my best friend on the front stoop, a
piece of tea cake in my hand.  We were watching the sparrows and the little
swifts, and I…I remembered.  I remembered flying.  I remembered the crow.  My
mind was so open to mystery, then.  So eager for the unknown.  Must be I’d lost
that somewhere along the way, and that’s why I lost touch with the crow for so
long.

“I can fly,” I’d told my friend.

He stared at me through his curly hair, a scowl on his
face.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I held out my arms and tipped my face to the sky.  “I can
fly.  I’m a bird.  I can soar in the sky.”

“You’re not a bird, Hayli!”

“I can be a bird.  But don’t tell anyone.  It’s a
secret.”

“I won’t tell anyone!” he said.  “But you really mean
it?  What does it feel like?  Don’t you get scared?”

“It feels like letting go,” I said, though I don’t think
I knew what I meant by that.  “It’s just me and the clouds and the wind, and I
don’t care about anything else.”

“I want to fly.  Someday, Hayli.  Someday I’ll fly.  Just
you watch.”

I giggled.  “That’d be swell!  Griff Farro, the flying
man!”

I gasped, and staggered out of the memory.  Oh, God.  Griff
Farro. 

How could I have forgotten?

The door swung open under my hand and I jumped, but it was
just Zagger standing there, frowning down at me.

“You all right, kid?” he asked.

“Why’d you pick this place?” I whispered.  “Why’d you come
here?”

“Rivano’s choice, not mine.  Come on.  You better get in
here.”

He disappeared into the house and I followed him in, trying
not to notice how everything was exactly as I remembered it.  How nothing had
moved, nothing had changed, since that night my parents had been taken away. 
We came into the front parlor, heavy with dust and memories.  Doc hovered over
the burgundy couch and Rivano stood by the lattice window, while Kor sat in an
armchair, twirling his hat back and forth.

Rivano turned to face me, and my face caught fire.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked.  “Don’t you know that
she’s marked?”

Kor grinned.  “You want to send me away, too?” he asked, and
I caught my breath as Rivano turned to stare at him.  “We are our own masters
most of the time, you know,” he added.  “When they’re not trying to control us
directly.  We’re not automatons just because we have a metal tattoo.”

Rivano’s face darkened, but a minute and he just waved a
dismissive hand and turned back to the window.  I let out my breath and crept
the whole way into the room.

“Shade?” I asked.

Doc glanced up and beckoned me over.  “Slowly coming out of
it.  Crazy lad, he turned himself into a lightning device.”

“What did you say?” Zagger asked.  “How would you know about
a thing like that?”

Doc smiled, a ghostly kind of thing, and ran his hands
through his white hair.  “I know because I tried to treat Destri’s wounds from
the radiant energy machine, and he showed me the lightning device.”

“Who’s Destri?” I asked, kneeling down by the couch.  Shade
lay there perfectly still, but at least his cheeks had got some color in them.

“Scientist,” Doc said.  “Genius inventor.”

“My uncle,” Zagger growled.  “Now tell me how you know him? 
And tell me why the hell he would ask a mage to heal his wounds?”

“He had no choice.  None of your doctors could help him. 
And I owed him a favor anyway.  It’s a long story.”

Shade’s head twitched, and I reached out and took his hands,
smiling when my fingers prickled at the touch.  Doc took it for a way to escape
Zagger’s questions, and placed his hands on Shade’s temples.  I watched,
breathless and a bit horrified, as Doc’s whole body seemed to fade, as if I
could see clear through him.  Shade’s lips parted and he drew a ragged breath,
and Doc released him with a thin gasp.

“Shade,” I whispered.  “Wake up.”

He groaned and rolled onto his side.  I winced, because
before he moved I hadn’t seen the marks at the corners of his lips like burns,
as if he’d been gagged by a heated wire.  My finger brushed over one of the marks.

“What is that?” I asked Doc.

“From the electricity, I wager,” he said.  “It’ll fade soon
enough.  Shouldn’t scar.”

I let my fingers rest against his cheek, my heart pattering
like mad.  His hand reached up and took mine, twining our fingers together.

“Hayli?” he murmured.  “Where—”

I swallowed and bent my head.  It took him just a moment to
get oriented, then he pushed himself upright and stared around the room, his
gaze pausing on each person before resting on me.  His fingers brushed across
my cheek, while some vague puzzled look filled his eyes.

“We got free?” he asked.

“Derrin…”  I swallowed.  “Derrin got Kor to come and spring
you out.  We got the others free and I came here.”

His mouth twitched in a smile.  And he kept holding my gaze,
until he suddenly seemed to remember that other folks were in the room with
us.  He dropped his hand and turned to Rivano.

“Rivano,” he said.

“Your Highness.”

 

 

Chapter 15 — Tarik

 

I flinched, my hand flashing instinctively to my head—the
easiest thing for me to identify.  But my fingers brushed over Shade’s shaved
scalp, not Tarik’s unruly hair.  I struggled to sit a little straighter, but
every nerve in my body was shooting pain like I’d been struck by lightning. 
Then again, that was essentially what had happened, back at the factory. 

“You know who I am,” I said.

He smiled.  “I’ve always known who you were.  It just took
you a little longer to catch on.”

That made me smile in spite of myself.  Kor had said he’d
always intended for me to meet Rivano, but I’d never imagined that Rivano would
already know about me—that he would already know what I was.

I flicked a glance around at the other people in the room. 
Doc smiled at me, looking rather less worried than the last time I’d seen him. 
I met Zagger’s gaze and he nodded once, some pained shadow of remorse and
contrition in his eyes that cut my heart.  I gave him the best response I
could.  I grinned.  He didn’t take it as well as I’d hoped, though; he turned
away abruptly, head bowed, and strode away to stand by one of the windows.  Kor
gave me a look:
It’s to be expected
.

“So,” I said, to Rivano.  “If you already knew who I was,
why did you never let me meet with you?”

“I told you,” he said, gently.  “You didn’t know yourself
yet.  I needed to be sure of you, first.  It was a long wait, but you are
indeed everything I’d hoped you would be.  Or will be, hopefully, if you can
keep out of that mess you’ve gotten into.”

I frowned.  Somehow I didn’t know quite what to make of
that—it might have been flattering, if it hadn’t sounded so alarming.  Hayli
shifted, her fingers tightening on mine, but beyond that she just sat with her
head bowed, a rock to steady me.

“How long have you been waiting?” I asked.

He leaned back against the window frame.  “I was a close
companion of your father, Godar Eyid.  When the world learned that Elanar was
with child, he was convinced the offspring was his, not Trabin’s.  He sent me
here to find out if it was so.  I’ve been there your whole life, watching and
waiting, waiting to see if you would have the gifts that would show your
heritage.”

I grimaced and leaned over my knees.  “That isn’t very
comforting, you know.  How would you like to find out you’d had someone
observing you your entire life?  And you were willing to wait seventeen years
on the chance that I’d turn out right?”

“Just listen,” he said, holding up his hands.  “Don’t judge
me too quickly.  Did you know, I was there at the sea wall in Ridgemark?  I was
the Wind that pushed you to the edge.  I was trying to test you.  Because unfortunately
for me, a Wind is the least powerful of all the first-class mages, and any mage
child who carries more than one gift can deflect the work of a Wind, can
exercise the power of a Wind.  Haven’t you ever noticed how the wind blows
harder when you’re in the throes of some strong emotion?  It’s a power that
exists as a sort of…background noise.  At any rate, I was too early.  You
weren’t ready.  You didn’t know yet what you were.  But I Woke you up.”

“Zagger, how long have you known about this?” I asked.

Zagger turned, anger like embers in his eyes.  “This is the
first I’ve heard,” he said, his voice a low growl.  “You could have killed
him!”

“I wouldn’t have killed him,” Rivano said.  “It wouldn’t
have been the last time I saved his life, either.”  I arched a brow, prodding
him to explain.  “I was there when you were fifteen and you dove from the bell
tower like a madman with a death wish that could change everything.  I was the
Wind that carried you down.  And still I could not get through to you.  I saved
your friend’s aeroplane.  I deflected the bullets that were meant for you…and
still, and still I thought you would never seek me out.”

He paused, and I waited, staring at the dust-blanketed table
in front of me.  But I was really aware of nothing but Hayli’s hand in mine,
her wrists crusted with blood, her skin cool and soft.  I flicked a sidelong
glance at her and realized she’d been studying me quietly, some deep sadness
hiding in her eyes.

“I was never here to start a rebellion,” Rivano went on, “or
gather the poor and cause a threat.  But do you know who gave your father that
idea?  Dreyden Kor, your mother’s brother, who has been helping me this whole
time, my eyes and ears in the palace, whispering rumors to the King, trying to
orchestrate every last event that would finally force you to find me.”

I turned to Kor, but he just leaned back against the wall
with his arms crossed and an insufferably smug smile on his face.  Zagger’s
face turned a ghastly shade of white and he barreled straight for Kor like a
bullet, but Kor just flicked his hand up at his side, showing a revolver.

“Don’t even waste my time,” he said, and tilted his head to
catch Zagger’s eye.  “We’re on the same side.”

Zagger hesitated, glancing my way.  I knew what he was
thinking, because I wondered the same thing:
What side is that, anyway?
 
I couldn’t even tell, anymore.

“And then one day,” Rivano continued, “a Mask showed up at
my front door searching for me, looking like the spitting image of my
Godar—thanks to Kor’s influence, I suppose, as a signal to me.  And I thought,
finally.  Finally, he is here.”  He turned to stare out the window, his hands
folded behind his back.  “Did you know, Kor started the rumor that you’d been
killed abroad.  It was supposed to be a way to release you—and release your
father—from the scandal of your true parentage.  It was supposed to be a way to
let Tarik die and let Shade rise up.  But Kor couldn’t explain that to Zagger
before Trabin’s panic drove Zagger to find you.”

“But you helped him find me,” I said to Kor.  “That was your
messenger who brought me Zagger’s note.”

“I didn’t know what the hell he wanted to talk to you
about,” Kor snapped.  “He wouldn’t tell me.  Just said he had something you
needed to know.”

Zagger lifted his hands defensively.  “Maybe you should have
asked.”

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” I said.  “It’s done.”

“Yes,” Rivano said.  “You reappeared, and now everything is
infinitely more difficult.  As for the rest of this—the riots, the threat of
revolution, you becoming a fugitive—none of that was ever supposed to have
happened.  That was Kantian’s doing.  I was trying to protect as many of the
mages as I could, and many of them were just children.  Kantian offered them
security, thinking that I would prove to be some kind of cult figure who would
help him start a war. 

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