Bloodline (Whyborne & Griffin Book 5) (25 page)

“Sorry we’re late,” Christine called. “But I apologize for
my earlier doubts, Dr. Hart. You were indeed correct about needing our
expertise for this event.”

Stanford’s eyes narrowed at the sight of us. Of me.
“Percival,” he spat.

The ketoi woman beside him looked equally contemptuous.
“What are you doing here, exile?” she asked, baring her teeth at Persephone.

“Just—just stop, everyone.” I held up my hands,
showing myself to be unarmed. Conventionally, anyway. “Stanford, whatever it is
you think you’re doing, it isn’t too late to stop.”

Stanford’s face flushed red with anger. “Stop? You coward.
To think Father actually began to favor you.” He aimed a vicious kick at the
figure crouched at his feet.

Father’s body rocked from the impact, but he didn’t fall or
cry out. One eye was blackened, and blood crusted his lips, but he still held
firm.

It made no sense. Father had always adored Stanford as the
perfect son, the one I could never compare to. Why was Stanford treating him
so? “What are you doing?”

“What I’m doing, or was, before your rude interruption,”
Stanford said, “is addressing the elite of Widdershins.” He indicated the
huddled men and women. “You might have fought off those I sent to teach you
your place, but you can’t win this.”

Stanford had sent the ketoi and hybrid to our house, to
attack me? To attack Griffin, and in our own home? “You’re wrong. I fought your
lackeys, and I can fight you,” I said with more bravado than I actually felt.

“I have a destiny which will not be denied,” Stanford said.

“You mean the blasted prophecy.”

Stanford’s eyes narrowed. “Scoff if you want. This town will
rise to my command, one way or another.
Widdershins always knows its own.
”

“That could mean anything.”

“What it means is that I’m destined to control this town,
and soon every other.” Stanford grinned, and the expression sent a chill
through my blood. He indicated the ketoi beside him. “My counterpart Dives
Deep, the queen beneath the flood, already rules the seas. Everyone here knows
of the missing ships, the derelicts. All meant to prove a simple point: nothing
can pass in or out of this port, unless we allow it.”

Horrified murmurs spread through the crowd. Stanford
preened, and with a sick twist, I realized he was
enjoying
this.
Spreading fear, having everyone under his control.

“So much for the sea,” he went on. “As of this afternoon, I
was able to
convince
Father to cede me complete control of Whyborne
Railroad and Industries. Now nothing can pass in or out of Widdershins by land
or sea, without our permission. So I came here tonight, where you so
conveniently gathered all of the old families, to make certain they understand
who their new master is.”

I wanted to argue the damned tours weren’t my idea, but it
seemed rather beside the point. “And what comes next? Your friend here wants to
wage war against the land.”

“Only those who do not bow to us,” Dives Deep said.

“With the railroad in my control, I hold the lifeline to
many a town on the prairie.” Stanford indicated the ketoi warriors. “When it
comes to larger cities, or those served by other lines, a few rail cars packed
with my friends here will surely be enough to convince them to surrender to
me.”

Dr. Hart stepped forward. “You can’t do this!”

“Can’t I?’ Stanford laughed and turned to the crowd. “Consider
the fate of Thomas Abbott. Ruined, thanks to his investments in the
Oarfish
,
which I ordered destroyed. As for where he is now, well, I’ll find him soon
enough. Anyone who threatens me will suffer and then die.”

“And what about Guinevere?” I asked. “Did she threaten you,
too? Is that why you had her killed?”

Stanford’s grin faded away. “Guinevere was an accident,” he
said. “I only meant to talk to her, to stop her! But she tried to fight,
and—and I didn’t have a choice. She made me kill her.”

Oh God. Stanford had killed Guinevere with his own hands.
Even I hadn’t expected it would be this bad.

Father went utterly white, and he swayed, just a little.
“You k-killed your sister?”

“It was an accident,” Stanford repeated. He licked his lips;
a sheen of sweat sprang out on his forehead. “She was a woman—didn’t have
the strength to do what needed to be done. She meant to betray me to Percival.”

“And Miss Emily?” I asked.

“She knew too much. She would have betrayed me
eventually—she had to die.”

All the blood seemed to drain into my feet, leaving me light
headed. I’d suspected, but to hear the truth from his own mouth was worse than
I’d ever thought it would be.

Father staggered to his feet. His face had gone white as
chalk, and his voice cracked on the words, but anger gave him strength. “How
could you, Stanford? How dare you—”

Stanford struck Father a hard blow across the face. “How
dare I?” he shrieked. “How dare you? I did everything to please you,
everything
,
but it was never enough. I spent my entire childhood following your every
order.”

Had I been jealous of Stanford’s freedom? Resented how he’d
passed through life with such ease?

I’d been wrong. We were both trapped, in our own ways.
Twisted out of whatever shapes we might have taken otherwise. Only Stanford
hadn’t been strong enough to walk away.

“You dragged me back from New York the moment you thought
I’d escape the leash,” Stanford went on, “then had the gall to parade this
fairy I have to call brother in front of me, as if he were the lord of the
manor. We’ll I’m done. I’m done begging and scraping for your approval. I will
build an empire of land and sea, far greater than anything you could have
imagined. Your time is
over
, Father.”

He turned on me. “Guinevere forced me to kill her. I didn’t
want to do it. But you? I’m going to cut your heart out and laugh while I do
it.” His eyes flicked to the ketoi. “Kill them—”

“Dives Deep!” Persephone shouted. “I challenge you for the
chieftainship!”

Oh. So this was what she meant when she’d spoken of some old
law.

A ripple ran through the ketoi. Several hissed in anger, and
I took it they didn’t particularly approve of her gambit.

Dives Deep bared all of her teeth, and there certainly were
a lot of them. She held her spear easily, like someone used to killing with it.
What did she usually hunt? Dolphins? Sharks? Whales? Certainly she looked more
than capable of spitting Persephone.

“Sings Above the Waves.” Her voice practically purred with
contempt. The tentacles on her head squirmed in a lazy cloud around her face.
The pattern of markings on her skin left her arms and legs almost purely white,
and only two tiny dots of black decorated her face. Multiple necklaces hung
around her neck, and her limbs were banded with gold. Something like a spiky
crown with a huge black pearl in the center adorned her forehead.

I could sense Persephone trembling beside me, but when she
spoke, her voice remained calm. “Yes.”

“She’s trying to distract you!” Stanford exclaimed. “Kill
them all now and be done with it!”

“You can’t!” one of the other ketoi shouted. “Sings Above
the Waves has issued the challenge according to ancient law.”

“Be silent, Stone Biter!” Dives Deep snarled, turning on
him. He flinched back, but his eyes remained locked on Persephone. I felt the
tremors in her limbs ease, as if she drew strength from him.

“Stone Biter is right,” another ketoi called.

“Sings Above the Waves is an exile!” cried another.

“The law doesn’t say exiles can’t issue challenge,” Stone
Biter replied with a trace of satisfaction. Had Persephone’s friends planned
this with her? “If the prophecy is true, if Dives Deep is meant to rule, then
what has she to fear?”

Dives Deep growled. “I do not fear. You would challenge me,
little halfbreed exile? I am many times your elder. I have hunted the fish of
the vast abyss, and stood before the dweller in the deeps.”

I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t
resist. “Stood there?” I asked with an arch of the brow. “
I
actually did
something besides stand there. I saved the god.”

If the chieftess could have killed by sight alone, I’m
certain I would have dropped dead on the spot. “Is that so?” Her lip curled to
reveal rows of serrated teeth. “Do you offer challenge to this other one,
then?”

“What?’ I asked, shocked.

She grinned at me, and I shuddered at the sight. “He claims
dominion over this town. Will you fight him for it?”

“No!” exclaimed Stanford. “This isn’t how we do things. Nor
should you! Have your men kill her—it’s what they’re for, isn’t it?”

“Most of them are women, you idiot,” I said. It was just
like Stanford to make an alliance and not bother to learn anything about his
allies.

“I’m not fighting this—this—”

“Are you a coward, then?” I demanded. Stanford’s face
flushed, and I knew then if he hadn’t intended to kill me before, he surely did
now.

“By our laws, the challenge must be carried out immediately,
or else forfeited,” Dives Deep said. “To death or surrender.”

“Oh, there will be a death, all right,” Stanford growled.

“Is this your wish?” Dives Deep asked me. “Do you challenge
your brother?”

I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Dr. Hart, Miss
Parkhurst, Mr. Mathison, all the museum staff and the guests. All of them
depending on me to prevent the grand foyer from becoming an abattoir.

Stanford had spoken of sending ketoi warriors by rail to
take over other towns. A great many other people were going to die if we
couldn’t stop him tonight.

I looked over my shoulder and met Griffin’s eyes. His pupils
were tight with fear, and his lips parted, as if he would say something. Then he
swallowed and gave me a tiny nod.

I turned back. “Yes,” I said.

“Fuck you,” Stanford snarled. Then he pulled a gun from his
pocket and shot Griffin.

~ * ~

Griffin’s body jerked, and his revolver fell from his hand.
He clutched at the hole in his coat, even as dark blood welled around it.

No.

Everything stopped: time, my heart, the world, the universe.
A drop of red fell to the floor, like a discarded gem, no longer needed.
Griffin’s body followed it, knees striking the marble. Christine cried out,
gripping his arm to keep him upright.

I ran to him and tore aside his coat. The shot had struck
his left side, and blood darkened his vest. Shock and pain drained all the
color from his skin, even as Christine tried to staunch the wound with her
coat.

All around us, people screamed. Persephone snarled in rage
as she closed with Dives Deep. And behind me, my brother laughed.

Laughed.

I rose to my feet and turned to face him.

“Are you going to cry?” he taunted, grinning. “Cry over
your—”

Wind howled through the open doors, tearing apart the
streamers and crape ghosts, ripping hats from heads. The force of it slammed
into Stanford, sending him into one of the special exhibits. His gun flew away,
spinning off across the floor.

More screams, and some part of my mind recognized I’d just
performed sorcery in front of donors and co-workers. But any worry was distant,
small and crushed beneath the raw fury igniting my blood.

I stalked across the floor toward Stanford. My throat hurt;
the sound coming out of it didn’t even seem human at all.

Stanford’s lips drew back from his teeth, and he spat on the
floor. “You think you’re something because you know a few magic tricks. But
what would you be without them?”

He shoved the exhibit beside him, sending the glass case
crashing to the floor. Even as I gathered the wind again, he snatched up a
sword from amidst the glass shards.

“Cease this at once!” Dr. Hart bellowed from amidst the
others held captive by the ketoi. “That is a priceless artifact, sir!”

I flung out my right hand, the scars on my arms pulsing with
pain, from shoulder to fingertips. A gale built, and I didn’t care what it
destroyed, so long as Stanford hurt, so long as he paid—

He swung the sword, and I
felt
the magic come apart
on its edge. The wind died.

Stanford gave me a hideous grin. “Well, well, what do you know?
The ‘curse’ on this one is real.”

The witch hunter’s sword. And I’d been the one to convince
Christine to put the blasted thing in the exhibit.

“Now the fight is even,” Stanford said. “Except I’m going to
gut you like a fish.”

He charged at me, swinging the sword like a scythe. I leapt
back—not fast enough, the edge of the blade slicing though my coat, vest,
and shirt. Numbness spread from where it had touched, and an instant later a
thin line of blood appeared against my exposed skin.

“Run, Whyborne!” Christine shouted at me.

Christine. Griffin. Oh God, Griffin…

I risked a glance, even with Stanford chasing me. Three
ketoi surrounded Christine, their spears pointed at her. No doubt she’d tried
to interfere. Griffin rested against her, pale but still alive.

Stanford’s heavy steps sounded just behind me. Where had his
gun gone? Could I find it and use it against him?

“Coward!” Stanford roared. “But running won’t save your
sniveling life!”

I raced for the exhibits in the back of the enormous hall.
More bones lurked here: saber-toothed tigers, an Irish elk with horns wider
than a man was tall, the heavy carapace of a giant armadillo. Beyond these lay
the glass cases displaying wax statues of ancient hunters clad in furs and
beads, replicas of their spears in their hands.

“Stanford, no!” Father shouted. It was the only warning I
received.

I flung myself full-length to the ground, the sword
whistling past where my head would have been and crashing into the brown bones
of the Irish elk. Fragments of bone went everywhere, and Dr. Hart howled in
outrage.

I rolled and kicked blindly in Stanford’s direction. I
missed, but an instant later, a pair of snarling figures hurtled into him.
Persephone and Dives Deep had both lost their weapons, and now tore madly at
one another with claws and teeth. Both bled profusely, but the chieftess was
clearly winning.

Dives Deep pinned Persephone beneath her. Her tentacle hair
thrashed wildly, and blood coated her teeth. “You should have stayed in exile,”
she hissed.

I snatched up a fragment of fallen bone and smashed the
front of the hunter’s display. The wax hand came off when I tore the spear
free.

If Dr. Hart hadn’t already fired me, he certainly would now.

I stabbed Dives Deep with the spear, the point biting into
her shoulder. She jerked back, and Persephone heaved her off.

“Here!” I exclaimed, holding out the spear.

She took it and pursued Dives Deep, who rapidly retreated
toward their dropped weapons.

Unfortunately, I had no time to search for the gun. Stanford
had made it back to his feet, the sword still in his hand. And I’d just given away
the weapon I’d hoped to use against him.

I ran again, hoping I might by luck come across the gun.
Stanford came after me, panting and cursing. One of the shrunken heads lay on
the floor; I scooped it up and flung it at Stanford, forcing him to duck aside.

Crape streamers tangled my feet. I fell heavily, almost
cracking my head against one of the display cases. I rolled onto my back, saw
Stanford above me, the sword raised high to chop off my head.

“Stanford, no!” I cried.

No trace of regret showed in his eyes. Only hatred. His lips
drew back from his teeth, the expression bordering on maniacal.

“Die, you disgusting sodomite,” he snarled, and brought the
sword down.

~ * ~

“No!” Father shouted, locking his arms around Stanford’s
shoulders and heaving him off-balance.

I scrambled to my feet as they struggled. Fixing my eyes on
the pommel of the sword, I whispered the secret name of fire.

Nothing. Damn it, the sword itself resisted any magic worked
against it.

“Stop this, Stanford,” Father ordered. “Percival is your
brother! You can’t—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can do, old man!” Stanford
roared. His shove sent Father sprawling across the marble floor. “I’m not your
lackey any more.”

I started forward, but Stanford spun to face me, sword
lashing out. I leapt back, and collided with the enormous hind leg of the
hadrosaur fossil.

Stanford’s grin turned bloodthirsty. I was backed into a
corner, with no magic to protect me and nowhere left to run. So I did the only
thing I could.

He swung the sword with all his strength, meaning to take
off my head. At the same moment, I let my legs go limp. The blade passed so
close I felt it touch my hair, just before it smashed into the unyielding stone
of the fossil.

The blade shattered, and I felt something
give
,
whatever enchantment it bore unraveling with the metal fragments raining down
around me.

I called down the fire.

Stanford let out an angry bellow as the hilt flared suddenly
hot in his hand, the guard scorching against his fingers. It hit the ground,
and he clutched his wounded hand to his chest.

I scooped up a length of elk bone and struck him as hard as
I could on the head.

Stanford collapsed in a heap at my feet. I stood above him,
panting for breath. I should hit him again. I should keep hitting him, over and
over, the way he’d stabbed Guinevere. I should make him pay for hurting
Griffin. I should bring down bloody vengeance for every wrong he’d ever done
me, from the time we were boys until this very moment.

Instead, I flung aside the bone.

There came a loud, wet
crack
. I spun, just in time to
see Persephone hold up the head of the dead chieftess, now completely severed
from its body.