City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World) (21 page)

Humanity was Kaifail’s great delight, or so he claimed. Of all the sentient races, we were the only one that wasn’t created. We evolved on our own terms, under Kaifail’s watchful eye, and he always said he couldn’t be prouder. And yet, one of the fundamental principles that separated us from the animals, one of the greatest gifts of our humanity was the ability to love. To empathize. To care.
 

Ironic. And sad. Was he ever jealous? Our great, wondrous god who, no matter how he tried, could never invoke those qualities in himself.

The office building was dark as I pulled up in front of it. No one working late tonight. Except us.

Iris landed next to me, changing from falcon to human as she did so. As I turned off my bike, Micah emerged from the shadows along the side of the building. “About time you got here. You said be here before sunset.” His voice quavered on the last word.

Nerves. I felt the same way. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t be helped. Let’s get inside.”

The lobby was empty, so we didn’t bother to go all the way up to the P&B offices. I did give the room a magical sweep for any Jansynian listening devices, and checked both Micah’s and Iris’s eyes again for shadows. Gods, I wanted this to be over with. I wanted to be done with having to watch over my shoulder every second, with having to worry every moment if my friends might be possessed.
 

“How’s Copper doing?” I asked as I worked.

“Still in a snit.” Micah watched me circle the room, his eyes curious beneath the ivory hood of his robe. “You probably shouldn’t try to talk to her for a while.”

“Is Copper ever not in a snit?” Iris asked. She’d hopped up onto the security desk, where she now sat, swinging her legs.
 

Micah snorted. But he didn’t answer.

After two times around the lobby, I was satisfied we were safe. “We can talk.” I fished the automatic pistol I’d taken from Copper out of my bag and handed it to Micah. “Take this.”

He took it without hesitation, checked the load, checked the safety, then stuck it in his belt beneath his outer robe. When this was over, when we had time to talk, I was going to have to hear the story of what Micah had been doing since the riots. He’d obviously picked up a few new skills.

“So I’ve got the gist of the plan,” he said. “Flashy lights from me. Iris kills the body. You magic away the shadow-monster. But what I don’t know is how you intend to find Syed.”

This was why Iris and I had gotten here so late. “I know where he is.”

Micah tilted his head, stared at me with honest amazement. “Are you telling me you’ve managed to unearth the hiding place of the Favored Son of the Lord of Secrets? How is that even possible?”

“Turns out I’m getting really good at finding new uses for my skills as an archivist.”

The magic had been complicated, but no more so than the work I’d done with the Desavris files. I probably couldn’t have figured it out if I hadn’t already experienced the deceptions surrounding Eddis’s death and if I hadn’t met Syed twice now and felt the touch of his power. “I had to go back to the temple. There’s that excellent painting of him there—I was able to use it as a focus. I knew he was in my home this morning, so I was able to work through a city map and track the trail of his presence. He’s over near the Crescent.”

“Near the Web,” Micah said.

“Still looking for Spark?” Iris looked between us. “Or after the Jansynians?”

“It shouldn’t matter much longer.” I took a deep, steadying breath. “Are we ready for this?”

“Better be,” Iris said. Micah flashed me a tight smile. And there was nothing left but to head out into the night.

#

The night’s clear sky meant no reflection of the city lights, which left the warehouse district near pitch-black. Micah rode behind me on the Jansynian bike, his hands locked against my hips and tension radiating from his entire body. Iris was above us, invisible in the darkness. In the distance, up in the sky, the Crescent glowed like some untouchable alien world, but its light didn’t reach down to the streets we travelled.

I turned the bike’s lights off as soon as we were out of the downtown, but even so, I parked several blocks away from where I’d sensed Syed. I didn’t want to give him any more warning than I had to. As we climbed off, Micah pulled his gun and held it at the ready.
 

I considered pulling out the second gun that rested at the bottom of my bag. But really, what would I do with it? At best, I could use it as a threat, but I wasn’t sure I could—or should—pull the trigger with no idea of what I was doing. I’d have to leave that to Micah and hope he had the experience his casual handling of the weapon implied.

“Can you sense him?” Micah whispered.

“No. Not unless I drop into a trance.” Which I didn’t want to do, not here out in the open. “But as far as I can tell, he’s after me just as much as I’m after him.”

Micah was no more than a shape in the darkness, but I saw the motion of his nod.
 

I stood still, letting my eyes adjust, listening to the distant sounds of the city. If anything moved around us, I couldn’t see it. Couldn’t hear it. I tried not to think too much about shadows moving at the edge of my vision. If I let my imagination take over, started jumping at figments, we’d be lost.

I aimed us towards the warehouse where I had first met with Micah and Copper. If Syed was following our trail, that was where he’d be. If not, my plan was to cast around among the warehouses, check the entries up to the Web, and then if we still hadn’t found him, only then would I turn back to the magic.
 

Our footsteps scuffled along the sand-covered sidewalks. Micah’s breathing, my own, seemed impossibly loud. Was there any way Syed wouldn’t see us coming? Was there any way he wasn’t lying in ambush, hidden in his native darkness, stalking us with that part of him that had driven Eddis to the ground, filled his nose and mouth and eyes, sucked out his life and replaced it with—

“Ash,” Micah hissed.

I bit back a scream, spun around to see him pointing ahead.

I followed the direction of his finger, saw an abandoned warehouse that looked like every other abandoned warehouse. Edged by dunes of sand and with its freight doors a broken pile before a gaping black hole. “He’s there,” Micah said.

“Are you sure?”

Micah nodded, biting at his lower lip. I wished I could see his face better. I’d find it a comfort to know he was just as terrified as me.
 

What had he seen? If Syed was really in there, we didn’t have time to discuss it. “Stay close,” I breathed.

That black, looming maw terrified me, but we had no choice. I took another breath, tried as best I could to steady myself. Magic was tricky under the best of circumstances. If I panicked, I’d never be able to pull this off.

I waved Micah to follow and ran across the street, jumped up onto the concrete ledge of the receiving dock. I could hear Micah behind me. Nothing in front of me. We needed to see. Needed to see now. “Light, Micah. Do it!”

Nothing happened. I spun around to see Micah with his gun pointed into the blackness. Bright flashes and deafening retorts as he fired into the warehouse in front of us. I dove to the ground. “Micah!”

From the darkness, a deep, mocking laugh. “Do you know who your friends are, Joshua Drake?”

A shadow streaked past me with a screech. Iris. I heard her impact with more force than one little falcon could manage. She must have transformed as she dove. My head swam as I felt Syed push against my mind, against her mind. Trying to distract us and escape.

I pushed back with all my will. Focused on the core of me, of Iris, of Micah. Syed wasn’t going to take us, not like that.

Except that Micah…wasn’t Micah.

I focused the power, felt it move through me as I willed our essences against Syed’s confusion. It was the same way I’d brought Iris back to herself when Syed had attacked us outside the church. Only this time, when I focused on Micah, I felt no echoing resonance.
 

This time, I saw the shadow in his eyes.

I smelled blood. Syed’s? Iris’s? Heard the sounds of struggle. I had to—

Had to—

Micah was dead. For how long? Had Syed taken him while we’d been walking the street?

If Syed was inside him, why had Micah shot at Syed?

Iris gave off a roar of pain. Micah aimed his gun once more. Fired.
 

Iris shrieked.

“Micah’s one of them!” I yelled at Iris.

He turned, leveled the gun at me. “Do what you came here to do, Ash,” he said. “Kill Syed.”
 

I remembered, in that weird, floating, dissociative way that meant I was slipping into real panic, that just last night I’d been thinking I needed to start carrying a flashlight.
 

“I’ve lost him!” Iris yelled. Meaning Syed. Real words, which meant she was no longer an animal.

“Useless,” Micah snarled, and shot once more into the darkness. How many rounds did he have left? Even if I’d been counting, I wouldn’t know. “He’s there!” Micah yelled, pointing.

I couldn’t see. Couldn’t think. Syed was there, but Micah—Micah—Micah had a shadow inside him. And was still trying to kill Syed. Another shadow? A different shadow?

The shadow inside Micah had killed my friend.

That I knew. That one thing I knew. None of the rest made sense right now, but Micah…

“Who are you?” I demanded, taking a step closer to the creature that had been my friend.

The gun swung back in my direction. “Do not overestimate your value, Ash. The only reason you still live is because you’ve proven yourself capable of fighting Syed. If you can’t—or won’t—then we have better uses for your body and your mind.”

We.
Gods. Syed
wasn’t
the only one. What did that—all this time—

A shadowy bulk hurled itself at Micah, knocked him to the floor. His gun spun away into the darkness. Iris as a great cat leapt back off. Micah scrambled to his knees.
 

Iris was liquid motion beside me, human again. “Don’t let it touch you,” she gasped, and then her body grew and changed as she moved back out of my sight.

Not out of Micah’s. I could make out enough detail to watch his face turn as he tracked her movement.
 

Where was Syed?

Too dark. Too fast. Too much. “Iris!” I yelled, and ran for the door.

Micah launched himself at me, snagged my pants leg, and yanked. I fell. Pain shot through my arm, my chest, my shoulder as I slammed into the concrete floor.
 

Micah—no, not Micah anymore—was strong. His hand around my ankle, dragging me back, solid as stone. He grabbed my arms, my shoulders, held me down. “One last chance,” he whispered, cold as death. “Whose side, Ash? Will you stop this pointless struggling and help me kill the real monster?”

My eyes could barely resolve the features of his face, but I could clearly see the shadow in his eyes. Writhing, twisting. Laughing.

“Ash!”
 

The scraping sound of something sliding across the concrete. An object struck my side.

The gun.
 

If I hesitated, if I stopped to think, I’d die.

I grabbed the gun. Raised it. Fired.

The force of it drove my arm back into the floor, shocking pain as my elbow struck concrete. Micah fell back, the right side of his head a fractured mess.
 

And I knew—I knew—the danger had just gotten worse.

I had to shut out the panic, the pain, the sound of Iris calling my name. Too dark, I couldn’t see what was happening with Micah’s body. I couldn’t see if a shadow was oozing its way out into the greater darkness. Coming for me. Coming for Iris.

“Iris, get out!” I yelled. I heard her scramble, heard the rustle of wings.
 

Which just left me. And the monster.

I called on the magic. Magic could protect me. Somehow. How?
 

Magic was the opposition to their power. I knew that, but did I understand it? Could I use it that way? Without shape, without purpose? Just pure, raw change through my body like a force. Would it drive the monster back? Would it kill me?

Kaifail help me.
The prayer was reflexive, unconsidered, but I didn’t have time to be angry at myself. And honestly, if Kaifail did happen just this once to be listening, I wouldn’t reject any assistance he was able to give.

A chill ran up my body; the air around me had dropped fifty degrees in a heartbeat. A burning cold touched my hand, my cheek. I opened my mouth to scream, but icy cold filled my lungs, robbed me of breath.

I fought back with a searing core of magic. I fought back with the power of who I was. I pushed back against the cold, the silence, the dizzying darkness. I fought for my life, and for the lives of those depending on me.

Magic, pure magic, the raw primal chaos of it ripped through me. It drove back the cold, but left scorched agony in its wake. I tried to scream but still couldn’t breathe. I’d driven out the monster, but now the undisciplined fire of my own power was going to burn me away to nothing.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Heart of Magic

I wanted to live. I very badly wanted to live.
 

I fought back against the magic the same way I fought the power of the shadows.
 

First my name, an easy thing. Even in the center of this pain, in the center of the pure, unbridled chaos, I could remember that.
Ash, I am Ash.
 

But that was only the beginning. I had to remember myself, define myself, fight back against dissolution by force of will, by utter conviction that I would continue to be. That I would continue as myself.

Ash the priest. A broken, angry priest who still fell back on prayers for help in moments of desperation.
 

Ash the friend, who dragged Micah and Iris into danger he didn’t understand, who got Micah killed and Iris—I could only hope Iris got away.

Ash the lover. Everything I’d wanted to say to Seana when she left me before. Everything I’d never get to say if I never walked out of this warehouse.