Bloodsong Ch. 01

"Go fuck yourself."

"Gods above, you're a— just hand it over before you embarrass yourself."

Slowly and shaking with loathing, Nick tossed the handgun her way, proving once again that out of the Mayfly staff — thinking of them as Jack's men, which they now were, remained strange and distressing — his sense of self-preservation was among the most finely tuned.

Valerie brought down a foot on the barrel, flattening it to uselessness. Now it was a gamble whether she could keep him sufficiently intimidated to stop him from shifting once they were out of the elevator. She'd rather not kill Nick while Jack was still grieving Marabeth. An undeserved courtesy, considering that Jack himself had never stayed his hand from murdering someone she cared about. Still, no matter how many times she ran her tongue over her teeth, Valerie couldn't rid herself of the sour taste filling her mouth at the prospect.

She'd try to keep Nick alive, even though the man was no better than Sykes and, much as it tore at her to admit it, neither of them was close to as bad as Jack.

"So," she spat, realizing she'd let the uneasy silence stretch too long, that Nick was staring at the sword and trying to suppress a shudder. "The gate. The magic screwing up the phones. The people you captured, Jack's plan, whatever it is. Walk me through all of that."

"Or?"

"Or I chop off your head, obviously." He went a shade paler, and he'd already started off a powdery mildew. There was a lull in their exchange when the elevator ground to a stop. Valerie bit back a sound of annoyance as she pushed Nick out into the gloom of the underground parking lot. Before following, she tore through the wiring of the button panel, ensuring that the elevator would be stranded. Nick had the sense to stay put in the meantime. Good. It made her feel less like stabbing him in the ear. "You can start with the gate. None were made for thousands of years, how did Marabeth manage?"

"Someone Fedex-ed her a 'Build Your Own World Gate' guide," came the prompt reply. Valerie shifted her hands until her nails were sharp enough to produce a ksszz sound as they cut through the air, and jammed her thumb an inch below Nick's chin. He squealed. "What? Will it make you happier if I say she found an ancient text in the bowels of a temple in the middle of fuck wherever, and that we had to run from a rolling rock and jump over a scorpion pit to get it? That's not how it went. She got sent instructions in the fucking mail, Redmont. Believe me, don't believe me, that's how it happened."

"That sounds farfetched." Valerie shook her head. She couldn't keep wasting time pummeling him, although she itched to. "Suppose I buy it. Who sent them?" A helpless shrug was all she got. She pressed on. "Who has them now? Who saw them aside from Marabeth?"

"Jack." But of course. "They're somewhere at the Mayfly, don't know where."

"What's he planning to do with them?"

"Fuck all? None of us can read them, they're in Lyrian or some shit."

"He's not trying to open more gates?"

"Nah. We already have the one, we're down to two magic users who are running themselves ragged trying to prevent the Tescara Ring that Lady Maz put around town from collaps—"

"The what?"

"Tescara Ring, Ring of Tescara, whatever. The magic screwing up the phones."

"I know what it is."

"Then why did you have to ask, you raving fucking lunatic?"

Because Valerie couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it, because she already had one hundred problems and badly didn't want this to be one.

If Nick was telling the truth . . . 

Centuries ago, the lords of Barashi had cut off trade relations with Earth, having determined that a world crawling with magicians, where the views on slavery tended towards unfavorable as history dragged forth, would eventually become a problem. Meaning to conquer it at a later date, they'd cordoned off Earth with the Ring of Tescara, a spell so powerful that it had made an entire world forget what until then had been common knowledge: that magic was real and humanity not alone under the sky.

The High Council had meant to wait a generation or five, until the magicians dwindled, until they were secure in the knowledge that no one would see the hit come. But then there'd been other worlds to crush, the Inocore War ravaging Barashi itself, and in between humans had gone and developed WMDs that made magic seem like a paltry concern, and nothing had come of it.

"The other Ring, the big one," Valerie started, feeling violently ill as her awareness of how much trouble Earth was in settled, "took eight hundred magic users to cast. You're telling me that Marabeth plus some randoms managed to put one around Westmont?"

"She did it alone." Nick winced at something in her expression. "If I was going to lie I wouldn't make up a lie this stupid. Don't wantto believe me, fine, not my fucking problem."

"Yes your fucking problem." Valerie scanned the cars, parked helter-skelter and in diverse states of destruction, did her best to ignore the smell of rotting flesh and shoved Nick forward, towards a blue sedan parked close to the exit.

The keys were stuck in the left side door lock. She made a point of not thinking about the fact that the plushy keychain they were attached to was stained red brown.

She also made a point of ensuring she bumped Nick's head when wrangling him into the driver's seat. By the time she'd fastened her seatbelt, she remained on edge, but could at least breathe again.

"Marabeth was never so powerful. Enough to be dangerous, I'll give her that, but not equivalent-to-eight-hundred powerful. And where did she get the framework for the spell, I thought that the High Council had the records sealed in—" She paused, glancing at Nick, who had his eyes swiveling from her to the wheel and back to her, ostensibly trying to determine whether he'd gotten pushed into the wrong seat. "Let me guess, more unsolicited mail."

"Yeah."

"Also to be found at the Mayfly, presumably." If Valerie's voice verged on shrill, that was only expected. High stakes, high stress situation even before factoring in wild world gates and spells that could wipe the whole of a place from common consciousness. Better that she let the blues settle now, when she wasn't embroiled in any fighting, than have them drown her later. Swallowing through the tightness in her throat, she soldiered on. She tossed him the keychain. Nick stared at it as if afraid it would bite. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get driving."

"Wait, you want me to — right. Right."

"And what else does Marabeth's version of the Ring do? I don't recall exploding cellphones being part of the original deal."

"Maybe because they hadn't been invented yet in the Earth's seventeen hundreds, genius."

She was careful to withdraw the sword before smacking the back of his head.

"You are nowhere near as funny as you think you are."

"I'm hilarious. Go choke on a chainsaw." That earned him another whack. Nick righted himself with a groan, his countenance foul. "Not encouraging me to share more, are you?"

Valerie hummed in concession. It wasn't lost on her that even taking the threat on his life into account, Nick had been forthcoming with information. It could mean that he was lying. It could mean that he believed that she wouldn't be able to do anything with what he'd disclosed, which, they'd see about that, wouldn't they? Or it could mean that he'd only revealed the tip of the iceberg, that a greater disaster lurked underneath it all, liable to make gates and improbable spell work seem like child's play.

Let it not be that. She was already courting a headache as it was.

"Just tell me what the damned thing does."

"Makes everyone on the outside forget the place exists, makes it impossible to get anything out — people, calls, e-mail, you name it. Picture a bubble, covering the town on every plane, only the bubble is made of TNT." He grinned horribly, then blinked as the driveway ushered them into daylight. "Where to, crazycakes?"

"The Mayfly."

Nick craned his neck as far as he could without cutting it open and cast her a glare both mocking and withering.

"Why don't you save everyone the trouble and turn yourself in, then? Might as well."

"Why don't you keep your opinions to yourself and tell me what Jack's grand plan is?"

"Bold of you to assume he has one of those."

"His not-so-grand plan, then." It was a shame that having Nick driving meant that she could no longer crush his nose into the tablier. "What's his goal? What does he want?"

"What. It's not obvious?"

"I mean, aside from getting me." That part was forever a given. "The town. He won't get Tescara's Ring to keep now that its sole caster is dead, even I know that and I'm as educated about magic as you people are on ethical business practices. He can get other users to funnel power into it, but it willbreak down in the long term, and what will he do then?"

"Fabulous question, Redmont! The answer is, I'll be fucked if I know."

"He didn't tell you? His best friend?" Valerie didn't sound bitter, since she wasn't bitter, period. She had long ago surmounted the indignity of being traded in for Nicolai 'fucking-is-both-my-favorite-word-and-favorite-activity' Cicerny, and if she nevertheless felt like jerking him back by the hair and pressing the sword flush against his cheek, it was only because Nick had a knack for riling her up. "I can scarcely believe it. In fact, I don't believe it at a—"

"There's nothing to tell! Dude has no damn clue what he's doing, alright?" The man sucked in a breath, sneered and bent away from the blade, making a big show of adjusting his collar while giving her a contemplative stare. "You realize this whole operation is illegal through and through, right?"

"Since when do any of you care about human laws?"

"We don't. It's illegal by ours." Seeing the bafflement Valerie failed to mask, Nick sighed in a put-upon fashion and droned on. "You're right that the Ring won't hold. So when it goes, and the humans find a ghost town, we'll have turned a venture pursued without license into the biggest exposure risk since the original Tescara Ring was placed. The Council? Won't be thrilled."

"And the blame will fall on Jack." A pause. "He didn't mention that part, when I—"

"Don't think he realizes," Nick muttered, eyes on the road, avoidant. "He is, as usual, too focused on you to care. If Lady Maz was alive we wouldn't be stuck in this sideshow, just keep the Ring going, move to the next town on the list, and on . . . "

And on and on and on, magic eating up pieces of the map one at a time, until enough of the world was stripped bare to make conquest a cakewalk.

Valerie thanked all the gods for Mrs. Drakma and her rocket launcher.

"Just for the sake of satisfying my morbid curiosity, what does he want with me? I mean, concretely?"

"Concretely? Fuck you."

" . . . is that an answer or just your compulsive swearing flaring up? I can't tell."

"C'mon, Redmont." Nick must have cottoned on to the fact that she had to let up on the number of concussions bestowed upon him lest he lose control of the car, since he dared to roll his eyes. "You're a century old bloodthirsty homicidal maniac, don't pretend you're too innocent to get this shi-fgnnn." The sentence concluded in a wheeze that would soon have become a death rattle if Nick hadn't turned his eyes back to the road, pupils blown wide and whites shrunk to a thin lining as he felt up the windpipe she'd nearly crushed.

"Just . . . turn left."

She would not pursue this line of inquiry, Valerie decided. No doubt Nick would have few qualms about enlightening her further. She just wasn't certain anymore whether she wished to be enlightened.

She couldn't lie and say she didn't chafe for not knowing, that the doubts didn't press on her mind whenever she and Jack fought. That there wouldn't be moments, when he had her down to the ground, fingers curling in her hair, lips on her throat as if meaning to bite, as if it weren't obvious what he was really —

Sometimes Valerie wondered where Jack would stop, should he ever catch her.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" Nick yelled, slamming down the brake. Valerie caught a glimpse of teal before the windshield came raining down upon them. The other man brought his hands up to protect his face from the glass splinters. She jabbed him in the neck and slapped his hands back on the wheel, dragging it to the left so that the car turned with a shriek of tires and spat the tentacle from where it had lodged itself. Only then did she relinquish command back to Nick, who looked like he might be on the verge of losing his lunch.

"Go on. As fast as you can. If you even dream of letting them catch up—"

"WHY ALWAYS WITH THE FUCKING DEATH THREATS?!"

With an artful shrug, Valerie moved the tip of the sword from his neck to his crotch.

"Better?"

"Why always so much of a bitch?!"

"Shut up. Go around that corner."

"Just turn yourself in, for Astara's sake! Could be that getting dicked improves your gnarly personality!" The commotion created by something — as it turned out, a whole chunk of wall — smashing into the side of the car and flying apart to crash the remaining windows saved Nick from being wrenched out of his seat and tossed out. He swore and made indignant motions at whoever had launched the attack. Valerie couldn't see, too preoccupied with controlling the twirling wheel and squashing Nick's foot on the accelerator to turn and check. "What's that shithead doing?! He knows I'm in here too!"

"Maybe no one actually gives a damn about you." If the words were mouthed with undue relish, Valerie didn't dwell on it. "Changed my mind about the Mayfly. Turn there, behind that bistro."

"That's a dead end."

Valerie frowned in confusion. For sure it was. Not only had she left the jeep parked there, she hadn't lived in Westmont on and off for thirty years to not know the playing field like the back of her hand. However, it was peculiar to have Nick be impromptu helpful by pointing out something like that. He could only have been less on her side if he were to perch atop her forehead.

Unnerved, she motioned for him to proceed regardless. They made it to the end — yes, the dead end. A tall brick wall stood blocking the way. Nick made sure to gesture at it while scowling in a manner of 'told you so'. The jeep was as she'd left it. Ignoring her driver's waspish, ill-disposed expression, Valerie snuck a foot under his leg and slammed it down on the brake.

"Don't know what the point of putting me behind the wheel fucking was," he told her, tartly. "You're an even worse backseat driver than Jack, and that's saying something."

"Shotgun driver," she corrected, already flying into motion.

Nick put his face in his hands.

"You fucking didn't just say that. Have you no shame?"

Valerie shrugged. She was about done with the man either way. With scant seconds before her pursuers came barreling in, and no further questions that Nick could answer in such little time, he was a loose end. Five shoves of his head against the door later, he was out cold and Valerie was throwing him out ahead of her whilst moving towards the jeep.

She wished she'd brought grenades. She'd considered that they might come in handy, but their regrettable tendency to go off if left in her vicinity for long stretches of time had dissuaded her. Moreover, she hadn't expected to need them, had wagered on there being plenty around to use in Westmont. Blakely and the Rivers siblings owned between them enough explosives to level a mountain or seven.

Sadly, those three were MIA along with the rest of the Front, likely going through hell.

The only thing Valerie had around was a fuel container. Her time ticked down to nothing as she grabbed it from under the front seat. She moved to the back of the jeep, popping the trunk open to trade the rifle for something that would rip through a Tsikalayan to greater effect.

The anti-tank gun had just been leveled over her shoulder when a tentacle came flying, making no pretense of attempting a strangler hold. It went straight in with chilling speed and strength. Had Valerie been any slower to dodge, it would have knocked her head clean off.

Wonderful. The dream team was actually trying to kill her.

Jack must be ways away still, as she doubted they'd dare this if he were there. His absence left her with an assembly made up of Nick, barely a blip on her radar, propped against a tire with a vacant expression, then Axis, atop the wall blocking the way. Three bodies covered the mouth of the alley with a hundred interlocking appendages - Byron, Rem, that one guy with brown tentacles and a lazy eye whose name she could never remember. On the roof of the bistro, also working to expand the web, Kalidriapolos was joined by some redhead she'd never seen. An equally nameless but more familiar face appeared next to Axis on the wall — Mr. Showboat, again.

At least that resolved the question of who she ought to tackle first.

They struck as a unit as Valerie rolled towards the sedan, heaved herself up using the sword as a lever and slammed the door open on the first incoming tentacle. Second-third-fourth-fifth and sixth struck simultaneously. Had she tried to chop her way through the onslaught, they'd have had her right then. Instead, Valerie dropped the sword. Used both hands to grip a dent in the side of the vehicle. Sent it vaulting into the tide of creepers and the personages to whom they attached. Picked up the sword again.

She had to skip out of the way as they sent the sedan right back without missing a beat, which suited her. It meant she could use it as a podium to reach and grab the tentacles coming from up the wall. Once she'd caught an armful of them, squirming and feeling much like live snakes, she pulled. Except that as she pulled, more tentacles came in from behind; salmon and black, drawing a helix around her torso, stealing breath, then a third snapping around her knees to first lock them together, then making as if to pull back—

Valerie saw the future like a scene preview of a film, alarm lights coming on as she read their intent. By jerking her legs sideways while her upper body remained stuck in their twin holds, they'd break her spine. Provided that they didn't outright snap her in half.

She threw her weight around and dug her heels in the dirt, still pulling with all her might on the green tentacles, which the others had done her the enormous favor of trapping against her chest while binding her. It was sheer luck that prevented one or more from squirming in the wrong direction and trespassing an organ.

Her efforts finally paid off when Mr. Showboat had his center of gravity so upset by her tugging that he lost his footing and toppled off the wall. Valerie stopped pulling so much and instead, steered.

The man made for a rather good wrecking ball, all things considered.

Rem was the only member of the trio on the ground to get clobbered in Mr. Showboat's landing. Conveniently, Rem was also the one doing most of the work of keeping her upper body under wraps. Having had someone land on him from a great height, his limbs slackened, giving her a chance to wriggle out before the others took over the load.

He wasn't dead. A shame, but it wouldn't be so easy. Rem, as well as every other Mayfly staff member whose name Valerie bothered to remember, plus Lazy-Eye-Brown-Tentacles, had been part of her life for decades, by dint of being people she regularly faced off against who persisted in remaining alive. They stood in a different ballpark to Sykes, who had been an acquaintance for twenty years because he'd met her all of once before, survived through dumb luck, spent the years between then and today running and hiding, and had only gotten his name stuck in her head because whatever else he'd been, he'd been a character.