Shadows Before the Sun

turned sad, resigned, as though Hank was already gone, and it pissed me off, this sympathy. “Fuck you. I’m not giving up. That might be how you do things, but not me. And not Hank.” A tear slipped from my eye and I wiped it away angrily. “You’re going to tell me where he is or I swear to God I will unleash everything I have until nothing remains of this house or you.”

His look said yeah, right. “I don’t know where your partner is being held, but I know he is here and I know of the NecroNaMoria because that kind of crafting defiles a place, corrupts the energy of this world like a slow disease. No matter how hard they try to hide it . . . Once you’ve tasted soul crafting, you never forget the stench it leaves behind.”

“And the NecroNaMoria, what’s it do?”

“It’s a spell that tethers a soul to a body that has died. It forces the soul back from the very edges of paradise and into a world of pain. If the body is in a condition to heal and resurrect, it does. Then, the torture can start all over again.”

And that’s what Hank was going through. Right now. All this time. God.

Numbly, I walked to the step between the main floor and the terrace and sat down. For a long moment, I stared at nothing, feeling like I burned from the inside out. Burned because I was here and he was there, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to scream.

“Since you seem to be familiar with this kind of crafting, you can help him,” I said at length, glancing over at Leander. “Whatever business you think you have with me, whatever it is you want from me, won’t happen unless you help me.”

“That I cannot do. Once the NecroNaMoria is begun, there is little one can do to stop it.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.” I got up to leave.

“I need you to retrieve an object from the Circe.”

I kept walking.

“Retrieve it and I give you something in return.”

I turned around at the front door, pissed that I was crying, angry that he couldn’t help me after everything he’d put me through, angry that I was standing there in Hank’s home not getting anywhere. “Don’t you get it? There is nothing else you could offer.”

“There is, Charlie. Otherwise I would not be here.” He paused as if best deciding how to proceed and then it seemed he decided for bluntness. “I have the antidote to ash.”

Time screeched to a sudden stop. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at him, my mind trying to catalog his words in the midst of my grief.

“Whether or not you can save your partner”—he shrugged—“I don’t know. But I do know you can save your sister and the others in your city. Does this not interest you?”

My mouth worked and I finally found my voice. “You have the antidote to ash.”

“I have something you need. The Circe have something I need. You plan to gain access to their domain to save Niérian. A little detour to retrieve the tablet and your sister’s drug problem is solved. This is what they call a win-win.”

And you’re what I call a smart-ass.

I wiped the wetness from my face with my arm and regarded him for a long moment. My thoughts cleared. “What’s the object?”

“It’s a rectangular stone tablet.” He held out his hand and cupped it slightly. “The size of a small book. Rounded corners. The front and back are also rounded like dough that has just started to rise. On the tablet are hundreds of small symbols pressed into both sides. It is the color of dried mud and looks worthless to the untrained eye.”

“But the symbols are not,” I surmised.

“No, they are not. They were priceless enough to start a war.”

“And what do you plan to do with the tablet?” Visions of Llyran and Grigori Tennin flashed before my eyes. “Because I can tell you, I’m up to here with psychos out to rule the world via ancient relics and weapons.”

Leander’s lips curled into a genuine smile, which turned into a laugh. It was a rich sound, warm and deep. He opened his hands in a sign of innocence, though his expression was cocky and anything but.

“The tablet holds information about the First Ones and their Disciples.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I let out a loud sigh. Why did it always come back to them? “First Ones I know, but Disciples . . . never heard of them.”

“They are beings imbued with the power to serve and protect their lord, a First One, as myths call them—we call them Archons. When the Archons slept, the Disciples stood guard until one day they, too, slept.”

“And the tablet is necessary because?”

His look became impatient. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because stacking the odds in our favor would be a good fucking idea. Because if we don’t and the Circe figure out what they’ve got, then we’re all going to the Afterlife. Is that reason enough for you, Madigan?”

I rubbed a hand down my face. Leander grabbed my arm. Power radiated from him. His fingers dug hard into my muscle. “We need that tablet or we’re fucked, and it’s only a matter of time until the shit storm arrives.”

I winced and tried to pull away but he held me firmly. “How do you know about me? About Sachâth?”

“I know all about Ahkneri and her sword. You think those anonymous politicians in Washington don’t answer to someone higher? You think your new job and everyone else like you are there for the hell of it? Think Tennin and the Sons of Dawn are bad? You ain’t seen the shit I deal with on a daily basis. You’re living in a bubble, Madigan. Think on that.”

“Who are you?”

“One who knows what’s coming. Do we have a deal or not?”

“We’ll exchange in Atlanta. My terms. If the antidote works, you get your rock.”

“I’ll wait in the city. Contact me when you’re ready.” He shoved a business card into my hand, released my arm, and stepped around me, bumping my shoulder.

Jerk.

After he left, I glanced down. No name on the card, just an address and a number. The address I committed to memory, not that it was difficult; I’d been there numerous times.

Helios Tower.

8

I’d returned to a palace illuminated. Fires burned in basins at the corners of balconies and courtyards. Light spilled from rooms open to the night air. The entire complex shone above the city like a beacon.

A beacon to getting lost, maybe.

The guards had recognized me, so getting in hadn’t been the problem. It was finding my damned room that proved to be a challenge. It eluded me at every turn, every hallway, atrium, and level. The entire palace was one giant labyrinth, and I was beginning to suspect the design served a purpose—an ingenious one, from a defensive standpoint.

I got lost, turned around, repeated steps, and might’ve kicked a statue or two in frustration. Finally, I leaned back against the wall before I did some real damage, and, thankfully, at that moment, Pelos hurried by, stopped, and came back. He regarded me with a knowing expression. “Lost, are you?”

“That obvious?”

He smiled. “Happens all the time. Come along. I’ll take you back to your room.”

“The builders were pretty smart,” I said as we walked down the dimly lit corridor, “to design a palace like this.”

“It started out small. Every king made his mark, adding to the palace, connecting levels in different ways. Most confusing to visitors and enemies alike. If you live here, you get to know all the passages and levels. We in the palace could escape while the enemy would get lost, like you did, and give our soldiers a chance to attack.”