Grimm: A Novel In The Nate Temple Supernatural Thriller Series (The Temple Chronicles Book 3) (44 page)

Tory reached out from my other side and touched my arm briefly, and then she growled a curse and wrapped me in a bear hug. I stood motionless, accepting it the only way I could.

By surviving it.

I didn’t have the energy to return the motion. It was all I could do not to run screaming for the nearest cliff.

She stepped back, face a mess, and gripped my chin.

She jerked it softly, attracting my attention to her own hands held out before her at waist level. She held my cherished feather, given to me by the Minotaur. It belonged, coincidentally to Grimm, Pegasus’ brother, and grazing buddy to Death’s own Horse, Gruff. The feather had been taken from me at some point, but I couldn’t recall when. “One of them had it. He paid for his thievery.” She whispered.

I murmured some form of thanks, which she apparently understood because she nodded, and then placed a large, bone white acorn in my palm. I frowned at it, lifting my eyes to hers. She shrugged. “It fell out of my wound after it was finished healing.” I stared at it blankly. Then I shrugged, and bent down over Indie’s body, resting on my heels as I shoved the feather into my pocket.

The ebony sprite was suddenly beside me, staring sadly at Indie’s body. I almost growled at her to leave, but she calmly reached over and plucked the acorn from my palm before I could react. She placed it over Indie’s chest, and then turned her sad eyes to mine. Their other worldliness seemed to pull at me momentarily, so I jerked my gaze away. After a moment, I nodded in thanks.

“Will you… I think she would have wanted you all to help me bury her.” I rasped to no one and everyone. I heard several affirmative murmurs through emotional throats. The ebony sprite moved first, and a deep humming filled my ears. The ground began to respond, and suddenly began sinking down further into the earth, carrying Indie down into the ground at least a dozen feet before her motion slowed. She rested in a perfect curvature of smoothly rounded dirt.

I stared at her for a few moments, and then had a thought.

“Everyone… grab something important to you. Now.”

I had meant to only talk to those immediately around me. But apparently everyone involved in the fight was within earshot. I heard rustling all around. Then they began to step forward one by one.

Gunnar murmured a Norse funeral rite, and then bit his freaking wrist. Blood splashed into the earth. The sprites looked suddenly tense, and pleased.

Tory’s face was blotchy, no doubt thinking of Misha. I promised myself that no matter what I did next I would at least go to her funeral. I could run away afterwards. Tory took a deep breath, and I watched her, not seeing anything in her hands. She took several breaths, closing her eyes for several eternal seconds.

Then she opened her eyes, and began to laugh. At first it was forced, tears wrecking her beautiful features. But the laughter soon infected her, and began to sound more genuine as memories flashed in her wet eyes.

And then they began to sparkle with pure joy. Soon the laughs were erupting from deep within her chest, and I noticed that it was affecting those around me. Everyone was smiling. Sadness was still predominant, but an undercurrent of joy now boosted their resolve. The laughter soon died away, and Tory knelt, kissing the earth. “I give you laughter, you dear thing. Carry it with you on your travels.” Then she stood, head bowed in silence.

Barbie stepped forward and silently cast a tiny sphere of glowing light down into the grave. “May your path be ever lightened.” The sphere touched her chest and erupted into a silvery dome, lighting the clearing. I noticed the vampires flinch protectively in my peripheral vision.

The ebony sprite stood and gave her a rippling black orb of power, the antithesis of Barbie’s gift. “May this eat away any darkness your light cannot pierce.” And the silvery dome of light evaporated, casting the scene back into the light of only the weak sunrise.

They then spoke in unison. “Our fallen sister gives you life, in the form of an acorn, a seed of hope for us to remember you both.”

Everyone was silent until Raego stepped up. He calmly tossed a black dragon’s scale into the pit. “To shield your soul from harm. You were a beautiful soul, Indiana Rippley. The world is now a darker place.” He turned away, breathing heavily.

Alucard stepped up, looking uncomfortable. He looked torn. He met my eyes, kept my gaze for a few moments as he debated internally with himself. Then he tossed in his umbrella sword. “I didn’t have the chance to know you, but anyone who commands such respect from such powerful people deserves my greatest possession. The blade has been in my family for centuries. Keep it safe and let it protect you from grief.” He nodded at me and stepped back.

One of the wolves padded forward and silently dropped a mouthful of Grimm amulets into the hole. He whimpered at Gunnar, who nodded before interpreting. “He gives the trophies of the wolves. Those Grimms killed at their hands are pledged in honor to Indie.” The wolf crept back out of the immediate vicinity.

Everyone turned to me. I debated. I too had nothing of value on me. Well, I did, but I didn’t know what was more important.

The ring was the obvious choice, but I wasn’t an obvious kind of guy. And I wanted to keep that for myself, as a reminder of the woman I loved more than life itself.

So I withdrew Grimm’s feather. The ability to call a fearsome beast for protection.

I let it fall from my fingertips. Everyone watched as it floated down to finally rest over her eyes. I knew that death wasn’t always exactly an end, and I wanted to make sure she had a guardian. “To the woman who let me briefly see Heaven. She has gone home, and like Raego said, the world is a darker place for it. Let her passion be an example. She was the weakest of us, with no magic, but she was also the bravest of us. Whether she had been taken or not, she was going to be here to fight and help. Her courage was undisputable, and unparalleled. She was… my
everything
…”

And now I have nothing
.

My breathing grew hoarse, deeper, faster, and pained. The blood of battle soaked the icy soil, as well as the dust of my long-dead ancestor’s remains from the pulverized statue.

And the love of my life lay buried at the epicenter of the chaos. The restraint on my power crashed behind a torrent of raw power. I would create something beautiful out of this tragedy. It would be my last memorable act. Even if my world was now dead to me.

Even if it burned away all my power and killed me.

Indie deserved it.

I let out a yell, casting one fist into the sky and one down at her body – at the acorn – fusing
life
and
hope
into the seed. My broken dreams at a future life with Indie raged and screamed, producing the antithesis of my new reality.

Life.

Happiness.

Contentment.

My fists began to glow, one shining yellow as it pointed at the sky, and the other blue pointing down at Indie’s body. Then they began to pulse, alternating, and I felt my soul washing away, power scouring away my existence. A bolt struck my fist from the heavens in a viridian explosion, and my eyes shot wide open. A heartbeat later, a purple blast slammed down into the earth in a web that halted a moment before striking Indie, coming to rest over her form like a blanket gently tucking a child in for bedtime.

The sprites were doing something, somehow complementing my power. Dirt began to fold in on itself and slowly cover up the purple blanket protecting the woman I loved. The ground quieted for a moment, now perfectly smooth and devoid of snow, and I realized that the sprites were singing in a haunting, angelic song of an unknown language. A language understood only through sensation, not words. Emotion given sound.

The entire earth began to rumble inside the ring I had made earlier, which was still guttering lightly with green fire. I stumbled, realizing that it was only growing stronger.

“Get back!” I roared, grabbing Tory’s coat as I dove over the trench.

Moments later the ground rocked, and a sapling exploded out of the earth, growing in fast forward, widening, thickening, sprouting branches and leaves as it raced towards the heavens. I could feel and hear the roots screaming as they tore through icy soil and rock, but the tree didn’t slow until it reached a height of at least a hundred feet at the entrance to the gardens.

And it was bone white, with pale silver leaves. Several fell from the force of the rapid growth, and lightly drifted to the ground. I reached out to catch one, sobbing openly at the beauty of the fallen sprite’s gift of life from the acorn, and hissed as the leaf sliced through my fingertips like a razor.

I stared at my bleeding finger in disbelief and then began to laugh.

Just like Indie.
A mouth like a razor, that one
… I had once heard an employee describe Indie. I don’t know how long we stared at the stunningly beautiful tree until a strange motion off to my right shattered the silent majestic safety of the sheltering branches.

I lurched to my feet, hungry to destroy something.

Chapter 44

I
t was the shadowy figure kidnapped by the Grimms. She was shaking, railing against an invisible force, and I assumed she was shouting.

I turned to Ichabod, who was staring at the tree with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing wordlessly. “Conceal her. But leave her senses accessible.” He did so with a wave of his hand. “Now, it’s time to call in my favor.” He waited obediently. “Make a call.”

“I have no…
phone
.” He said the word oddly, unfamiliar with such a device.

“You won’t need one.” I responded drily. His eyes squinted for a moment, and then he smiled in understanding.

He murmured several words and flung his hand out at the air between me and my friends, ripping a void in the fabric of reality.

A doorway.

Revealing Jafar.

He jumped to his feet from a chair, staring at me incredulously. Then at Ichabod. He began to shout over his shoulder. He was armed for battle. A dozen Academy Justices jumped through the opening ahead of their Captain, all strapped in battle leathers. That pretty much answered my question right there. They had been ready for this call. And had known it would happen around now. After my scheduled fight with the Grimms.

They had known it all.

Too bad they hadn’t anticipated my success.

Or the fact that Ichabod had opened the gateway in the center of two aggressive fronts of Freaks who were a tad bit irrational at present. Several Justices let out a shout of surprise to see werewolves, vampires, sprites, and dragons surrounding them, and Ichabod the only Grimm in sight. And the last Maker in existence staring at them with cold, dead, heartless eyes. At least I was pretty sure I looked that way. It’s how I felt, and I had no energy to put on a front.

I no longer cared.

“Well, I would love to hear you explain this one.” I said drily, staring directly at Jafar.

He looked from me to Ichabod, no doubt wondering if I was under the man’s control or if it was the other way around. As his eyes roved from face to face, he was bright enough to realize the Grimms were no more. He didn’t look pleased, but he also didn’t look disappointed. “Bravo.” He muttered. “This was your little problem? This man?”

I didn’t blink. “He had a friend or two. You can find bits and pieces of them around here somewhere. Well,
everywhere
, I guess.” I pointed a finger at Jacob’s body, which I suddenly noticed was very embarrassingly face down, exposing his rear end to the air. I decided to let imaginations run wild with the story of his demise. But I wasn’t concerned with those stories, as entertaining as they may be. I was concerned with Jafar’s reaction.

And he didn’t disappoint.

There was a moment – a tiny, almost unnoticeable moment – where recognition flashed across his eyes. Then a flicker of disbelief. And then it was gone.

He turned to face me, poker face back in place. “This was approved through the proper channels? We don’t condone murder.” He growled authoritatively. Several Justices flexed fists at their sides, ready to throw down.

I began to laugh. No one moved. But Jafar’s face darkened.

“Go right ahead.” I chuckled. “Arrest us. There were no…
proper channels
involved. In fact, I killed this one with quite the
opposite
of the
proper channels
. I impaled him. A little out of fashion these days, but I found it quite satisfying.” I straightened my face and enunciated each word, grinning openly. “I murdered this man in cold blood. He was defenseless at the time. I had hinted at letting him go. He was cooperating.” Jafar’s face looked victorious. “I killed him. Slowly. And I enjoyed every
second
of it.” I shot him a wolfish smile, holding out my hands for imaginary handcuffs. “Do something about it, oh Noble Knight.”

As if on cue, the dragons let out short puffs of fire and the wolves targeted individual Justices. Tory calmly picked up a stone pillar once belonging to a birdbath, calmly snapped off the bowl with her hand, and hefted the revised bludgeoning tool with a satisfied grunt. The sprites moved like wraiths, drifting closer to the action with predatory smiles.