“Evy—” Wyatt tried.
“Stop it,” I said, ripping my hand away from his. I stepped sideways, several feet from him. “Look at this objectively, for Christ’s sake, Wyatt. Killing you might stop his plan for now, but what’s to stop him from trying again? Once a power mad dictator, always a power mad dictator, right? You don’t stop a weed by chopping it off at ground level. It just comes back. You have to attack the root.”
“Attacking the root sometimes kills the flowers around it,” he said quietly.
“But doing nothing allows it to spread and choke out everything.”
He held my stare for several long moments. A train wreck of emotions raced across his face. Neither one of us liked to give up; it wasn’t in our nature. We fought until the very last breath. And sometimes you had to give that final breath (again) in order to achieve something worthwhile.
“Wyatt, it doesn’t matter if you brought me back for selfish reasons or noble ones. What matters is that I’m here and I’m part of this fight, and I know I was always meant to be here. We are playing the parts chosen for us. In the end, all will be as it should be.”
He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. Seconds ticked by, and then he opened them. “One step at a time,” he said. “First we contact Rufus, see what he knows, and go from there. No second-guessing, no noble gestures of suicide.”
I smiled; he didn’t. “Agreed.” Another thought struck me. “Amalie, did you have any luck with ways to capture an unhosted Tainted? In case it comes to that?” I doubted the use of such information, because using it hinged not only on Wyatt’s possession, but also on his death while hosting the Tainted. Twin scenarios I’d do anything to prevent.
“None still live who witnessed the first defeat of the Tainted, so long ago,” she replied, “nor do those who witnessed their reign.”
“Not my question.”
Her skin momentarily darkened with annoyance. “Human mages of that age had a spell they believed protected them from possession.”
“Please tell me….”
She plucked a small, drawstring pouch off the table. It was hidden behind a pitcher of wine, and I hadn’t noticed it until now.
I caught it easily—the brown leather soft as silk and smelling vaguely of mustard—suddenly angry. “If you had magic that could protect us—?”
“You misunderstand,” she said. “Their magic was flawed. A strong enough Tainted can possess anything it desires, under the correct conditions.”
“So what the hell’s this do?”
“How do I explain the intricacies of magic to such a young mind? The spell inside will act as a temporary binding agent, holding that which is the Tainted in a solid pattern for roughly six hours.”
I eyed the pouch, said, “Cool,” and meant it.
“If we even get the chance to use it,” Wyatt said.
He was right. It required a sequence of events that would probably never take place, but I’d done this long enough to know the value of a Plan B. I tucked the pouch into my back pocket for safekeeping, doubtful I’d ever need to use it. “Thank you,” I said.
Amalie smiled. “Of course.”
“We’ll need passage back to the surface.”
“Very well. However, once you leave our cavern, you are no longer protected by our magic. You are wanted by many, with few friends left to assist you. My blessings to you both.”
“Thank you.”
Wyatt grunted something. I wasn’t entirely convinced he would abide by our agreement and not do anything rash. Conversely, I wasn’t convinced that I wouldn’t do something rash to save him. He hated the idea of giving me up as much as I hated the idea of losing him, but save a miracle, nothing could change the fact that one of us would be dead in twenty hours.
Chapter 23
19:40
Leaving First Break would take longer than our arrival, but the mode of transportation proved far less messy. Horzt led us to a doorway at the very top level of the stone settlement. He hobbled along quickly for someone of his apparently advanced age, his cane clicking on the stone.
“Follow the left juncture until you come to a split,” he said. “Then bear right and keep going until you see daylight.”
“Where will we come out?” I asked.
“The northernmost outskirts of the city, in what you call Mercy’s Lot. The Earth Guardians will be watching, though there’s little they can do to interfere.” His tiny eyes flickered back and forth between us. “You young ones shine like the sun itself. You have old souls, and I hope they’ll soon find the peace they seek.”
He reached out his small hand and I took it. Expecting a handshake, I instead received a hard object. I palmed it, and examined it. A sliver of crystal, the length and width of my index finger, its sides rounded and perfectly smooth and peaked to a single point.
“A gift,” he said, “from the Apothi. It’s not enough for the suffering I have caused you.”
“You?” I asked.
Thin lips pursed. “Knowledge of healing magic is Gifted only to my people. Tovin took me for a fool once. It was I, Evangeline, who helped him add your regenerative powers to the resurrection spell. He said you needed the advantage in order to fulfill your destined task. I know now he meant only to prevent you from dying before his plan was enabled. I’m so sorry.”
I stared at the little man in front of me, so small and yet reeking of power—a different sort than I felt while around Amalie, but still present. He was the only gnome I’d had a real conversation with, and I found myself hoping we’d meet again.
“You’ve still given me a gift,” I said. “Your regenerative powers have helped me survive this long when I should have died multiple times. I do still have a task ahead of me. But thank you for this second gift.” I slipped the crystal spike into the back pocket of my jeans. “May I ask—?”
“When the time comes, you’ll know how to use it. Go on careful feet, and may the ancestors keep watch over your journey.”
I didn’t know if he meant his ancestors or mine, so I merely nodded and ducked through the doorway. Unlike the others, this door did not lead into a room, just a tiny space, no larger than a coat closet, with three potential corridors. I started down the farthest to the left, led by more glowing spheres, placed every ten feet and roughly the size of lemons. It was dim, but enough to see by.
Wyatt followed, keeping a distance of several feet. We didn’t speak for the first leg of the journey. My thoughts consumed me. Training told me to never walk into a situation I couldn’t walk out of again—exactly what we were doing. We had no plan of action beyond contacting Rufus, who may or may not be able to provide Triad assistance. If not, we were up shit creek without a boat, never mind a paddle. None of the other species would help us without proof.
Yet another great difference between humans and the majority of Dregs—a complete lack of, or simple inability to use, imagination. The very fact that Tovin had orchestrated our steps up until that very moment, that he had every piece in place to summon a Tainted into Wyatt’s body, would not sway them. They judged on action, not intention. Until Wyatt was actually demon-possessed, our chances of persuading them to assist us were less than zero.
The Bloods were the only wild card in the deck. Istral and Isleen had already acted on their suspicions about the goblins, which meant they were on the list for proactive potential. But I hadn’t spoken with Isleen long enough to know her intentions, and her people likely held me responsible for her death. Still, if we could contact the heads of the Blood Families—
