Djinn Justice (The Collegium Book 2) Page 19

  “That’s who she says she is.” Faroud looked down at the woman. “She says Tarik sent her to Steve.”

  “To me?”

  Fay ignored Steve’s wary question. Suspicion and horror grew in her. She recalled Narelle’s naïve words, her insistence that she and Fay were alike, both partnered to powerful men. But Fay’s lover would never abuse her.

  “Narelle?” Fay walked closer slowly.

  The woman wouldn’t look at anyone. She still wore the clothes she’d had on in Siberia. She hadn’t changed since fleeing through the rainforest, although she’d lost some of the clothes. Her shirt was gone, so the undershirt served as covering. It was dirty white, stained with dirt and…blood. Her hair was a tangled mess, hiding much of the undershirt and the slumped curve of her back. She’d pulled her knees up and rested her face against them, her arms wrapped around her legs. The fingernail on her left pinkie finger was missing; not simply torn, but gone. Her feet were bare and ripped up.

  Fay crouched down beside her. “What did he do to you?”

  Narelle raised her head.

  There wasn’t a sound in the chamber, although two dozen people filled it. From a bruised and swollen face, Narelle looked at Fay. “He beat me. He had me…I tried to use my magic. I did…in the end. And nothing touched him. Nothing! I tried and I tried. I begged. I screamed. My magic.” Her hands shook. It wasn’t just her pinkie nail that was missing. “It’s gone. My magic is gone. It tore out of me, drowned. It didn’t work.”

  Pity crushed Fay’s heart. Narelle had done the unspeakable, enslaving people, but this too was suffering. However, Fay had to ask. She had to be sure and everyone had to hear the answer. “Who did this to you?”

  “Tarik.” His name, through bloodied lips. “And some of his men.” Narelle hid her face again.

  Fay looked around and saw Michelle and Liz. “She needs help.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” Mr. Jekyll intervened. He wore a tailored suit, was impeccably groomed, and appeared exhausted. Frown lines grooved his forehead. “What if she enslaves them?”

  “She can’t.” Fay put a gentle hand on Narelle’s back. “There’s no magic in her.” Fay could feel the emptiness and her soul shuddered. “It can happen. It’s rare. Lewis Bennett, the Collegium president, burned out his magic saving people. He held on past the point of impossibility, but the price was his magic. Narelle…” Fay withdrew her hand and stood. “Narelle burned her magic out in fear. She was never properly taught and perhaps that eliminated some of the tripwires that would have halted her magic use before reaching flame out.”

  “If you’re sure.” Mr. Jekyll opened his hands in a slight gesture of acceptance.

  Before Fay had time to do more than blink at the notion of Mr. Jekyll accepting her judgment, Michelle and Liz came forward.

  Liz had scooped up a medical kit, but as she looked at Narelle and beyond her, at the many onlookers, she changed her mind. Her gaze snagged on a tall man with broad shoulders, taller even than most weres. “Connor, can you carry her up to a room for me, please.”

  “No!”

  Narelle’s shriek halted them.

  Liz briefly covered her own mouth, dismayed. “Sorry. I didn’t think.” After what she’d suffered, Narelle wouldn’t want a man’s hands on her. She’d fear to be in his power. “Mom and I’ll help you somewhere private. Can you walk?”

  Mrs. Jekyll pushed through the crowd. “There must be a wheelchair somewhere in the fort. Find it!”

  A young man dashed up the stairs.

  Mrs. Jekyll kept walking, past Narelle, till she stopped in front of Steve. “It’s a message to you.”

  “I’ve worked that out, Grand-mère.” A muscle bunched in Steve’s jaw. It pulsed.

  “A taunt and a warning,” Mrs. Jekyll continued. “That this monster will do this to Fay.”

  “He won’t.” Steve’s tone made it a vow.

  “He will,” Narelle whispered. “And he’ll make you watch.”

  “Unacceptable.” Mrs. Jekyll gestured to Fay. “Come here, dear.”

  The unexpected request snapped Fay out of her fixation on Tarik’s mind games. She agreed with Miguel’s muttered comment of the jackal-were, “Bastard’s clever. He’s trying to psych you out.” It wouldn’t work.

  But staring at Mrs. Jekyll, and finding Steve’s grandmother smiling at her, did worry Fay. The woman was smiling at her. Gathering her courage—emotions were way outside her field of experience—Fay walked around Narelle to stand by Steve, facing Mrs. Jekyll.

  “I was wrong,” Mrs. Jekyll announced dramatically, for all to hear. “In the shock of discovering Steve’s mate so different to us, and in our fear for the Suzerainty test he was to undergo, we made you less than welcome, Fay.”

  Well, that was true, but now was not the time. Fay went to say so, and Steve bumped her shoulder. She took the hint to remain silent and closed her mouth.

  “We are ashamed.” Mr. Jekyll joined their tiny group, the cynosure of all present. “We do not wish to be like this mad man, Tarik, targeting and fearing you. And yet, even he, had the sense we lacked to see that you are vital to Steve.”

  “This is a dramatic change of heart.” Steve folded his arms.

  It was Fay’s turn to nudge him. She’d accept what she could get.

  Incredibly, Mrs. Jekyll smiled, again. There was softness, even a hint of tears in her eyes. “We were stubborn, but we can’t resist the truth. Not forever. As you pointed out, Steve, Fay healed you. She didn’t use her magic. Magic can’t touch weres. But love can. She will fight beside you.”

  Crouching beside Narelle, Liz sniffed back tears.

  “We behaved badly, Fay,” Mr. Jekyll said. “But John is right.” He cleared his throat. “We would like to know our great-grandchildren. You are one of us.”

  She had been claimed, publicly, by the Suzerain.

  Steve embraced him. “Thanks, Granddad.” He hugged Mrs. Jekyll, muttering. “I love you, Grand-mère.”

  The old woman’s returning hug was tight.

  And Fay received her own hugs and kisses on both cheeks. It was overwhelming—and a relief to return to their mission. Fay wasn’t used to emotion, especially with a curious audience. She cleared her throat. “About Tarik.”

  “Insane and arrogant,” Mrs. Jekyll said scornfully. She, too, seemed relieved to return to her ordinary self. That she’d humbled herself to apologize to Fay in public underscored her sincerity, but they all needed to move on.

  Fay took a breath. The message that Tarik had sent via Narelle might be meant for Steve, but the marshals had seen it. It was fine for Tarik to underestimate her, but dangerous if her allies—and her new family—did the same. “He’s also wrong. I am not Narelle. I am much, much more dangerous.”

  She was lethally angry at the abuse Narelle had suffered, but bubbling up was an intense resentment of all the weres’ assumption that she was easy prey. Mr. and Mrs. Jekyll had thought she couldn’t match Steve’s power. They had accepted her, now, but it was past time for a reality check—and the use of her magic so close to needing it to confront Tarik was completely justified. The combat force couldn’t operate efficiently if they remained under the misguided belief that she required protection. “Faroud, may I?”

  The porter gave her a slight bow. “Freedom of the portal.” He, at least, seemed inclined to respect her and to guess her intent.

  “Thank you.” Fay had learned the rudiments of portal and in-between courtesy from her stepfather. Faroud had just given his permission for her to enact magic at the edge of his portal. “Miguel.” He had the sort of confidence that would survive the experience, so she picked him. “Neither Tarik nor anyone here, except Steve, understands what he’s taking on. I’m not indestructible, but I’m far more lethal than any of you. I could bring the fort down on us. I could bring Tarik’s cave down on him. And I can be more subtle.”

  She magicked a rope net and scooped Miguel up, suspending him in the hessian cocoon over the portal. Th
en she vanished, turning invisible, locking her scent and sound inside a bubble. She levitated till she stood on air beside Miguel, then she dropped the invisibility. “I don’t do parlor tricks, so this is the first and last warning anyone gets.” She touched the rope net with a finger and Miguel spun in a circle.

  Steve smiled at her. His smile had a feral edge, suggesting that he, too, had raged at the lack of respect accorded her. “Underestimate Fay and you deserve everything you get.”

  She lowered the net, releasing Miguel a meter from the ground.

  He landed agilely and gave her a long look, followed by an abrupt nod of the head, signaling respect and apology. She had controlled his fate, utterly.

  Fay returned to Narelle’s side.

  The ex-mage stared at her. Tears leaked from the corners of Narelle’s eyes. “I should have been like you…I could have been.”

  Anything Fay said would be the wrong thing. Even with training, Narelle couldn’t have neared Fay’s power. The woman was a lower level talent. But she’d just lost, violently, whatever talent she had possessed. Struggling to find a response, Fay was shocked to be nudged aside by Mrs. Jekyll.

  “We can only ever be ourselves and we should be proud of who we are.” The old woman looked at Fay. “We will be proud of you.”

  The wheelchair arrived. “Sorry. It took me ages to find it, and then, I had to wipe the dust off.” The young man stepped back as Narelle was helped into it.

  Fay stood beside her a moment. “Is there anything you can tell us, anything that will save lives.” It wasn’t in Fay to use a truth spell to compel an answer from someone in Narelle’s condition.

  “Tarik has all the power he needs. That’s why he did this to me. He didn’t need my magic anymore.”

  Basic logic, something they’d all already guessed. Fay touched Narelle’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  Liz pushed the wheelchair towards the elevator. The abused ex-mage was accompanied by women from three generations of Steve’s family.

  John rumbled a reminder. “She’s hurting now, but she still enslaved us.”

  “I remember,” Steve said. They all heard the implicit promise. Justice would not be forgotten.

  Fay clasped his hand, unsure if she was offering or asking for comfort. But apart from that gesture, she remained outwardly controlled and focused on their mission. “Faroud, did you have to accept Narelle? I mean, could Tarik’s porter breach your portal.”

  “I accepted the woman,” Faroud said. “My defenses are strong.” He’d woven more cords, larger and longer, circling the border of the portal.

  “I want to see if I can break them,” Fay said.

  Chapter 13

  “The helicopter is ready to go,” Mr. Jekyll said.

  “We’ll lose hours if we take it.” Fay paced around the portal, away from the crowd of marshals and onlookers. “And if Tarik judges mages by Narelle, maybe he won’t expect a direct attack.”

  Faroud walked around the portal from the other direction, meeting her on the far side. “My defenses are brutal.”

  “Send them full strength at me. Don’t hold back.” Fay scowled at the magic surrounding the portal and pouring from the in-between. “Do you have someone you trust to babysit the portal if I knock you out.”

  He gave her a startled look. “You’re that confident?”

  Fay scowled some more at the portal. Against demons, she could use her full power. Against humans, no matter how strong they were, she held something back. Against a portal, she wouldn’t hold back. “You could catch some of the aftershocks.”

  Mr. Jekyll raised his voice, were hearing having caught their words. “Faroud’s uncle is retired, but he could fill in, in an emergency.”

  “Call him,” Fay said.

  The portal churned with power, but studying the amulet and how it channeled the energy of dream essences had taught her a different way of attacking the portal. Energy, like individual water droplets, coalesced with its like. Faroud had used the energy of the portal to shape its defenses. When she attacked the portal, to enter without its porter’s permission, she’d need to instantly return the energy that defended it to other portal purposes.

  “Everyone step back.” She thought about the likely result of her interference. “Turn your backs and close your eyes if you choose not to leave.”

  Everyone shuffled around. No one left.

  “Ready?” she asked Faroud.

  He sat in a yoga pose at the edge of the portal and gripped the longer cords he’d woven. “Go.”

  Fay inhaled, exhaled, and wound her magic into a tighter and tighter coil. It had to be ready to lash out at the portal before the portal could defend itself and take her out. If it all went wrong, she was conscious of her stepfather’s token in her pocket. She wouldn’t be lost to the in-between. She could find her way to her mom’s home.

  She hit the portal’s defenses. They reacted instantly, but even as they crashed against her personal warding, she caught the energy powering them; caught and deflected it, scattering it so that the individual drops of energy cascaded down and into the channel she provide for them, feeding them back into the portal.

  The portal went nova. It flared so brightly that even with her eyes closed, she saw the blaze. She walked through the lightshow and into the portal. It had to be a complete test. Could she defeat the defenses from inside the in-between?

  The familiar dis-orienting chaos of the in-between swallowed her. She opened her eyes. There might be no up or down, no left or right, but the Alexandrian portal shone and hummed with the additional energy she’d fed it.

  Abruptly, the portal’s blaze died. Faroud had regained control.

  Fay stared at the portal. She wasn’t sure at what distance in the in-between a porter could sense someone’s approach. She took a step closer and another.

  The portal’s power struck her. It flung her away, into the disconcerting confusion of the unmapped in-between.

  But she grabbed for the energy that struck her. Grabbed and held it, reshaped it into a wide rubber band and used it to launch herself back at the portal. As the energy sped to return to itself, it brought her with it.

  She burst through the portal and into the fort’s underground chamber. She landed on her feet beside the portal—and beside Steve.

  He caught her around the waist, steadying her.

  “How is Faroud?” she asked.

  “Alive,” Faroud croaked. “This must be how a hangover feels.” He held his head with both hands.

  Fay, on the other hand, now that the nausea of in-between was fading, felt energized. Some of the portal energy that she’d used had stimulated her own magic. She looked around. “Is everyone else okay?”

  “I didn’t shut my eyes as you said to.” A marshal put his arm in the air, identifying himself. “I’m blind. Is that going to pass?”

  Fay winced. “It should do.”

  Lilith glared at the marshal, not that he could see her. “Take him to the infirmary.” No sympathy for those who couldn’t follow orders. “Get Katut down here. He’ll have to take Alex’s place.”

  “Faroud, are you well enough to guide us through the in-between to the Mountains of the Moon portal?” Fay asked. Otherwise they’d have to delay while she contacted her stepfather, convinced him she wasn’t suicidal to attack a portal, and had him locate the Mountains of the Moon portal and return for them. She held her breath.

  “Yes. I traced the path they took Steve along. I can find it.”

  “All right, people.” Steve didn’t have to raise his voice. Were hearing could catch a whisper. “Gear up.”

  Boots hit the stairs as the marshals went to grab their kits.

  Fay and Steve had brought what they’d need with them. Fay extracted the amulet from a pocket. Despite Narelle being its creator, her loss of magic didn’t appear to have affected the spell. Dream essences still leaked from it, but now that spill of energy was redirected back to its originators, making the whole amulet feel somew
hat safer. Fay no longer felt as if she carried dynamite with her.

  That said, bringing the amulet into proximity with Tarik could have all sorts of negative repercussions.

  A touch of magic restored the broken silver chain and Fay looped it over her head. The amulet nestled against the hollow of her throat.

  Steve made an uneasy sound, a cut-off protest.

  Fay grimaced in understanding. “It’s better than in my pocket where its bulge would be visible or a pat-down would find it. I’m bringing it with me, but invisibly.” She wrapped a cloaking spell around the amulet, vanishing it.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She stared into his eyes. They were leopard-yellow and bright with emotion. “Did the portal put on a show?”

  “Bright lights, a high keening sound and Faroud flew about four feet.”

  “Ah.” Noncommittal.

  John provided the comment she couldn’t find. “We don’t have to worry about these idiots underestimating you anymore.”

  Beside him, Mr. Jekyll smiled wryly. “You’ll do well in this family.”

  John slapped him approvingly on the back, and Mr. Jekyll swayed but kept his balance.

  Fay was completely at a loss. She glanced at Steve.

  He raised an eyebrow, amused and ironic.

  “Uh, thanks?”

  Steve’s cough didn’t really disguise his laughter.

  His dad ignored the byplay. “Fay, how much did Steve tell you of what we found in the library?”

  “Nothing.”

  David rolled his eyes.

  “Sorry, Dad. We were busy.”

  As Fay recalled what they’d been busy doing, she couldn’t control her blush. Steve got an elbow in his ribs for his chuckle.

  David outlined their library discoveries. “It turns out that Tarik spent some time in the library here a year ago. The archivist remembers him. That helped, as she was able to pull out some of the material Tarik had requested. We found the map for the cave system in the Mountains of the Moon. We also found a medieval story of a wandering magician who controlled sandstorms and dreamed in many voices.”