Rémy’s exertions were creating an increasingly strong upward pull. I didn’t want to get caught up in the vortex and find myself swirling high above the emptied quarry. Leaning back, with my head and shoulders now mostly above the choppy surface of the water, I put as much effort as I could into opening the door and failed. A jumble of thumps announced Laszlo and Alderose had landed on the topmost cage.
“Can you two come help me?” I yelled. I mimed opening the mystery door.
“Clementine, let go!” My sister reached behind her back, drew a dagger, and pointed it away from where she crouched. “The Fae. They’re here.”
I forgot about trying to open the door and wedged my foot on top of the lowest cage. More and more rotted leaves and branches had begun to mix with the tail end of the swirling waters and winds, making it harder to see across the exposed area. I glanced up. I couldn’t see Rémy anymore, or my aunt, or Alabastair. And if my father had arrived, I definitely couldn’t see him.
Beyond the cages, past the middle of the quarry, angled beams from the rising sun illuminated a scene that chilled me to the marrow.
Gosia.
One-Becomes-Three.
And a teenaged girl.
17
The trio of tall fae standing next to Gosia and the girl were armored to the gills. Real gills. Barbed fins, flared and undulating, stood away from their upper arms and their outer thighs. And they all looked like Jadzia.
I fingered the magic-negating collar my aunt had set around the base of my throat. Made from linked sections of metal, they had magnetized ends that would seal on contact and neutralize the wearer’s ability to call upon their magic. All I had to do was get close to one of the fae, whip the collar around their neck, and the spelled metal would take care of the rest.
The good part of the plan was that the slippery mess coating the jumble of rocks at the floor of the quarry would impede the Fae’s progress.
The bad part was that the fae were making a beeline for the door at my back and picking their way across the rocks with ease, their captives in tow. Way too late, it dawned on me I had never really been in this kind of danger before in my life.
I froze.
Laszlo landed beside me. His horns, usually tucked close to his head and curled around his ears, now jutted forward and up in the shape of antlers. Alderose slowed her climb down the stacked cages. Both she and Laz kept one hand on a weapon and their eyes on the three Jadzias.
We had to yell above the thunderous sounds emanating from Rémy’s creation in order to hear each other. “Rémy can hold on another ten minutes,” Laszlo said. “Let the fae come to us. I’ll engage. Alderose, you get them collared. Clementine, you’re in charge of Gosia and the girl.”
He handed his collar to my sister. I appreciated the demon’s faith in my abilities. He swung his legs over the rock, dropped to the next lowest ledge, and withdrew a matched set of short daggers from the sides of his vest. Yelling a one word command, he plunged the blades into the water. A dense, white mist formed on the surface and began to coat the rocks and debris around us. Strands at the periphery of the mist were sucked up and into the swirling vortex.
“He’s freezing the water,” I said, unable to keep the awe out of my voice. The cold, consuming mist building within the bowl of the quarry moved closer to where the fae had come to a halt. The three consulted, untied their captives, and lowered Gosia and Zazie into the closest remaining pool of water. One stayed in a crouch and pushed the bobbing heads under the surface of the nearby ice.
Laz drew his daggers out—which halted the freezing process—and swore. “I did not see that coming,” he said. “You ready, Alderose?”
She landed lightly beside me and slid down the rock to Laz. Side by side, they charged the Fae. The demon leapt onto the ice’s uneven surface. Strong and surefooted, he was met by his counterpart’s upraised sword. Alderose skidded to the far right and lashed out at one of the Fae’s legs.
I liked watching my sister spar in a dojo. I didn’t like watching my sister go after weaponized beings from another realm. I reeled in my fears for both Laszlo and Alderose and focused on the mother and daughter we’d come to rescue.
As I scooted forward on my hands and knees, I remembered I had my own set of short, sharp daggers in my pants. I fumbled to find them. Once I had a solid grip on the handles, I stabbed the blades into the soft ice and made my way forward, belly down.
Find Gosia. Find the girl.
I forced myself to tune out the clashes and grunts of hand-to-hand combat and trust that one demon and one witch could handle One-Becomes-Three. My job was to find Gosia and find the girl. I stabbed and stabbed, breaking up the slushy ice. Gosia’s head bumped against the section in front of me. I flipped my grip, smashed the pommel of the dagger against the surface, and tried to avoid hitting her. The ice cracked, then shattered. I shoved the blades into my pants, plunged my arms into the water, and felt blindly for something solid.
Gosia was right there. And she was unresponsive. I grabbed her under the armpits and heaved her up enough I could let go with one hand and fumble for a hold of the garment clinging to her body. I got her most of the way
