wanted that love from Isabel, that unconditional devotion; I wanted to give it in return. But Pearl had precedence, and Iz couldn’t trust me, not completely.
I was not born to be a mother, it seemed.
“Where is she?” Iz breathed.
“Doesn’t matter,” Luis said. “We’re not going anywhere near her. Cass, have you lost your fucking mind? You can’t let her near Isabel!”
He hadn’t seen the map, hadn’t felt the gut-wrenching power of the true scope of what we faced. I knew that, but still, the disbelieving betrayal in his face made me hurt. “Talk to Brennan,” I said. “I promise you, this is what must happen. Not what I want, but what we need. Just talk to him, and decide for yourself. I won’t interfere.”
“You let him mess with your head,” Luis said. He was tense and angry now, fists clenched. “You were the one who called Orwell and laid down the law, damn you. You said—”
“I know what I said,” I interrupted him, just as tightly furious. “But we won’t live to see the dawn unless we work with her. We won’t, Luis. There are no angels to rescue us. Only devils, and we must take whatever hand is offered now.”
He shook his head and stalked out—no doubt, in search of Brennan. Isabel gave me a last, silent look and followed, and I sank down in a chair and put my aching head in my hands. I had never felt so trapped, or so human.
I had sworn I would never accept a peace with Pearl, but now… now I’d not only done it, I’d promised cooperation.
The enemy of my enemy…
“Mother,” I whispered, close to tears. “How could you desert us? How could you bring us to this?”
But the Mother had never spoken to me, not directly, and she did not do so now. There was only darkness, and silence.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it seemed like only moments before someone was shaking me by the shoulder. I hadn’t meant to sleep, and wasn’t sure that I had, really, but the momentary shame and confusion was burned away by the sight of Luis’s face, and the urgency of his voice.
“Come on,” he said. “We need you. Now.”
I followed him at a run down the hall. We slammed through the fire door and onto the concrete steps, which he took two at a time, running at a careless speed that held no concern for his own safety. Five floors down, we came on the locked door. He had no card, but before I could find the one I’d been given, he extended a hand and simply melted the lock of the door. “Stupid anyway,” he muttered. “What the fuck is there to steal now? Money? No damn use at all.”
The hallway was busy with people coming and going, but they parted for Luis as he shoved through; we passed the small room that Pearl had been in, but both she and the four children were gone, leaving sleeping bags, plates, and glasses scattered carelessly around.
They were all in the main room, all the Wardens. Pearl and her four followers were there, too, standing slightly apart. She looked calm and detached, but unsmiling—at least until she caught sight of me.
“What is it?” I asked Luis. He ignored the question as he pushed through the standing crowd of Wardens. Isabel was at the front, standing with Brennan. Even Esmeralda had come out, I saw; she was coiled up in the back corner of the room, and had lifted her human torso up to see over those in the way. Her eyes had gone slitted and reptilian.
I didn’t need an answer, because my eyes fell on the board, and the Warden who was pulling out pins from an area of the map in the middle of the country. It had been filled with yellow and red, blue and black… but all the pins were being removed and dumped in boxes.
There were tears on the Warden’s pale face, and she paused to wipe them with the back of a hand before she continued.
Then she took a black marker and drew a thick diagonal line through the open space. Then another, crossing it.
“We’ve lost control of most of the Midwest,” Luis said. “St. Louis is gone; it’s a goddamn heap of junk after the last earthquake. Kansas City is badly damaged, too many dead to count; everything’s in chaos now, people fighting for food, cars, gas.… It’s all coming apart. Still some communities holding together, mostly smaller towns, but tornadoes are targeting them specifically, ripping them up one by one. Too much, too fast. Brennan had to pull the surviving Wardens out when the Djinn began coming after them directly.”
I looked around at the others. There were more tears, and silence so deep and aching that it made me tremble.
Brennan finally said, “We don’t have time to grieve. I’m sorry. I know everyone knows someone who’s been affected by this—the losses are enormous, and shocking, and I’m sorry we can’t give it the attention it deserves. I’m sorry that the dead can’t be honored now. But there are living people we need to save, and we still can save them, if we stay focused. You’re doing it, people. You’re making a difference. We knew this would happen, so don’t let it stop you.”
There were a few nods, and some gulped back their tears and wiped their faces. The Warden who’d drawn the X through a tri-state area of the nation put down the marker and stepped back, head bowed. I saw her lips moving in silent prayer.
I wondered how many bodies lay dead and unburied there. How many millions of lives had just been lost, or were being lost, right now. We were abandoning them to their fates.
It seemed heartless, but I could see that it was a choice the Wardens had to make. We couldn’t grieve. We couldn’t count costs. We couldn’t worry about enemies, and the future, and what might happen tomorrow.
Surviving this eternal, exhausting day would be achievement enough.
Pearl said, in a soft but carrying voice, “I have followers near the borders of Missouri. They will take up stations at the borders.”
“Can they fight off a hundred Djinn?” Brennan snapped. “Don’t throw away lives. Those Djinn will do anything they want, and we can’t stop them.”
“I can,” Pearl said with perfect calm. “I have a weapon that will destroy any Djinn who touches it.”
There was silence again, but in the silence I felt the electric surge of hope that raced around the room, leaping from human to human like a wildfire. “What kind of weapon?” Brennan asked. He didn’t want to commit, I realized, but even so, he was seduced.
As she’d intended.
“Me,” Pearl said, and bowed slightly. “I can destroy the Djinn. And you must help me accomplish it.”
Pearl had won, and I knew it. In the face of such disaster, such enormous losses of life as were piling up now, there was nothing that the Wardens could do but accept her, regardless of any later consequences or costs. Even I acknowledged it.
But not Luis.
“Are you kidding me?” he whispered furiously. “This is nuts! They’re just going to roll over for her, just like that! Kill the Djinn—are they insane? The Djinn are the only thing that have a hope in hell of stopping
We were standing off to ourselves in a corner of the large room; the Wardens had drifted back to their desks, not so much to work as to process all the overwhelming flood of information in solitude. As for Pearl, she had settled in the opposite corner of the room, looking calm and smug; her children had gathered around her, sitting in a semicircle on the floor. They didn’t speak. Neither did she. I supposed that it would have been unnecessary, as thoroughly as she owned them now.
Isabel hadn’t joined them, but neither had she joined us. She was standing against the wall near Esmeralda, watching all of this with uncertain intensity. I wanted to give her some kind of surety, but I had none myself to share.
“They’re not so insane,” I said. “Think of all the Wardens have suffered these past years, and often at the hands of the Djinn; from the moment that the Djinn were released from their bonds, they’ve been dangerous to mortals, and especially to the ones who’d once held them captive. After all, my people have a very long memory. That distrust and hate might have gone on for millennia, even without any other problems to complicate it. Humans hate, but they forgive. Djinn… cannot forget, and don’t often forgive.”
