Jocelynn Drake - [Asylum Tales 02] (20 page)

“Not if I can help it.” I reached back with my right fist and plowed it into his face, hitting him across the cheekbone and snapping his head back so that it bonged off the metal support beam. “Tell me their names!”

“No,” Reave grunted. “The Towers need to be stopped.”

I fisted my hand again to hit him but didn’t. Beating Reave senseless wasn’t going to get the information out of him and I wasn’t skilled enough with the kind of enchantment spells I would need to go digging around in his brain for the information. He needed to be handed over to the Towers so that they could pry out the information and stop the chaos that was swirling around the world.

“Fine,” I said, dropping my hand back to my side. Reave watched me through narrowed eyes, waiting for me to attack again. “You’re the only one who knows all the locations. The information has been contained. I’ll hand you over to the Towers. They’ll kill you and stop hurting the rest of the world in an effort to protect themselves.”

The Svartálfar gave a low chuckle that made my skin crawl. I took a step back, glaring at him, as his laughing ground to a halt. “That’s where you’re wrong, warlock.”

“What are you talking about?”

“After the destruction of Indianapolis, I had a feeling that you’d come knocking on my door and I needed a little insurance.” Reave paused and licked his lips as he watched me like I was a bug under a magnifying glass. I was hardly breathing, waiting to find out who else he had blessed with this damning information, but I was afraid that I already knew. “Dear Robert has been such a valuable employee and he has such a hatred for the Towers that I knew he’d want to help. So I pulled him aside and helped him memorize each location. Now he’ll spit out the information to anyone who asks and he won’t be able to stop himself.”

I sucked in a harsh breath as I stumbled a step backward. That was where my brother had disappeared yesterday. It wasn’t about getting a change of clothes. He was checking in with Reave.

I cursed, suddenly sick to my stomach. If I took Reave to the Towers now, they would pull loose the information on Robert as well. They would demand his life along with Reave’s. My mind scrambled, trying to find a way to hand over Reave without trapping Robert as well but I couldn’t think of anything. If I killed Reave myself, I wasn’t sure that I’d be able to convince the council that the threat had been taken care of. I needed the Svartálfar alive with his mind intact to hand over to the Towers if we were to survive this mess.

Stunned by Reave’s revelation, I forgot about the binding spell. Reave leaped at me, plowing a fist into my gut before I could react. I stumbled but caught myself before I could fall on my ass. Rage pumped in my veins, burning a new hole through my soul. Reave had endangered my brother’s life with his plans. He endangered us all. I’d put this asshole on ice somewhere until I could find a way to protect Robert and then I’d hand him over for torture in the Towers.

“You wanted to take on a warlock. Well, now you’ve got one,” I growled.

A wide grin slithered across Reave’s face as he palmed a long, curved blade that had been hanging at his side. “You? You’re no warlock.” He chuckled. “You’re some kid who couldn’t cut it with the other grown-ups, so you ran. And now I’m going to cut you down.” The dark elf took a step, slicing at me with the curved blade in his right hand. I dodged it in time, watching the knife swing wide of me, but it was the unseen blade in his left hand that got me, digging into my side before I could react.

I groaned, my body clenching and stiffening as the pain exploded out from my side. Reave jerked the blade free, twisting it as he pulled. I clapped my hand over the wound, struggling to slow the bleeding as I scrambled for a new spell that would knock Reave unconscious without taking his head off in the process. Subtle spells weren’t my specialty.

Grinning, Reave slashed with both knives, backing me up. This was fucking ridiculous. I was trying to fight him with magic when I didn’t need to. Releasing my side, I dodged one blade while blocking his other arm with mine as it attempted to slash across my neck. My side screamed and my back throbbed, but I ignored the pain as I lifted my leg and kicked him in the knee. Reave moved at the last second and I only clipped it at an angle, but it was enough to get the dark elf to warily back off while favoring that leg.

“I think we’ve had enough fun for one day, boy,” he said. “You’ve got more to worry about than just me.” The bastard came at me fast. I dodged and blocked what I could, but the pain in my side and steady loss of blood was slowing me down. In the end, it was a foot in the sternum that put me on my back in the dusty warehouse. I jerked upright again with a groan, but all I caught was a glimpse of Reave’s back as he sprinted out of the open doorway, disappearing into the bright midday glare of the fenced-in courtyard.

Another groan slipped past my clenched teeth as I got to my feet and ran to the doorway, grasping my side with my left hand. My feet skidded through the dirt and gravel as I stopped in the open area and looked for Reave, but he was already gone. The ogres I had knocked out were still lying on the ground, but the one who opened the door was missing. He shouldn’t have been able to get away that fast, but I had a feeling he had sprinted to wherever Reave’s car was stashed and started it in the event that the Svartálfar would need a fast getaway.

“Fuck!” I shouted. I shuffled across the courtyard, holding my side, grumbling about Reave, the Towers, and my own stupidity. I even paused long enough to kick one of the sleeping ogres in the head. He snorted once and rolled over before continuing to sleep, undisturbed.

When I reached my SUV, I stood next to the front grille and lifted my shirt to look at the cut. It didn’t look that big, but the bleeding hadn’t slowed. A good portion of my shirt and the left side of my jeans were soaked. Swearing again, I pulled the wound closed with my left hand while whispering a quick healing spell. I used just enough magic to knit the interior wounds and close the skin. I didn’t want to waste the energy on the blood or the pain.

With a sigh, I leaned against the grille and glared at the old paper mill. This trip had been a disaster. Reave had fled and I had no idea if he was even going to remain in the area now. Robert had the information, making him a massive target. I was hoping my brother thought he still needed me. Strangling Reave sounded so good, but a living Reave with brain intact was the only thing that was going to stop the Towers. But now that seemed impossible since I didn’t have a clue as to where he had gone.

As I stood there, trying to pull together the energy to move, I heard a strange, leathery, flapping noise. Wincing, I pushed back to my feet and twisted around, looking for the source of the noise. I didn’t think it was Reave—the bastard had to be at the edge of town by now—and it wasn’t the sort of noise that would come from an ogre. As the sound got closer, I looked up to see something I had never expected to see within the confines of Low Town.

The creature pulled its batlike wings in, swooped down toward me, and then threw its wings back out again so that it stopped barely a foot from my face. I lurched away, slamming my back into my SUV. The hobgoblin cackled with mischievous glee, his little face split with a wide grin while his almond-shaped black eyes flashed at me. Collapsing his wings a second time to his back, the hobgoblin dropped to the ground and landed lightly on all four limbs like a cat.

He quickly scurried over and climbed up the front of the car until he was seated on the hood. Hobgoblins were strange little fey creatures that were never seen within the city limits, as they preferred deep, undisturbed woods. This one was the first one I had seen up close. I had caught a glimpse of a couple over the years while camping and that was enough to give me nightmares. While prone to playing silly pranks when the mood hit them, they were rarely dangerous.

It was their appearance that I found frightening. Between their large leathery wings, the small horns on their heads, enormous pointed ears, and the pumpkin-orange scaly skin, they looked like demons escaped from an underworld amusement park. This one sat on the end of my hood, his legs crossed in front of him while his long, pointed tail idly swung from side to side.

“You Gage?” the hobgoblin asked. His voice was low and earnest as he leaned forward a bit.

“Yeah.” The word came out slowly as I tensed, waiting for something new to attack me. It had been one of those days when someone was always waiting around the corner to remove my head or turn me into a magpie.

The hobgoblin tipped backward, his little feet kicking up in the air as he laughed and clapped his hands. “Ha ha! I told her I would find you! She had her doubts, but I knew I could!”

“Who? The queen?” The queen of the Summer Court was the only person I could think of who might have dealings with a hobgoblin, let alone had the ability to get them to complete a task. According to most textbooks, they didn’t much care to obey anyone.

He instantly stopped laughing, but was still smiling broadly at me. “Oh, no.” He then said something in this high, squeaky voice, but I shook my head, not understanding. “Her,” he said, and then the two-foot-high hobgoblin disappeared and was replaced by a three-inch-tall violet pixie hovering in the air as her little dragonfly wings beat a mile a minute. A second later, the pixie was gone and the hobgoblin was back to sitting on the hood of my car.

“Her? The pixie?” I asked, and he nodded. “She was at that fix house, right?”

“Yes, she said you rescued her. Saved her life.”

“Okay, but why did you need to find me?” The little devil wasn’t making any sense, but he seemed pleased with himself over something.

“She was worried over you. She thought you’d be in trouble with that Svartálfar. I told her that I’d find you, keep an eye on you.”

“Why?”

“To help her clear her debt with you. She’s a good friend.”

“And you’re doing this out of the kindness of your heart?” I said, looking down at the hobgoblin through narrowed eyes.

The little fey grabbed his long tail in both hands and looked away from me, seeming almost embarrassed. “Well, she said you were a warlock and that you were taking on a Svartálfar alone. I thought you must be a lot of fun, so I wanted to tag along for a bit.”

What he meant was that he thought I was a one-man wrecking crew, causing chaos and mayhem wherever I went, and he wanted to watch the destruction, particularly if it involved a Svartálfar.

I sighed and roughly scrubbed my hand over my face. I didn’t need this. “Look . . .”

“Duff. I’m Duff,” he supplied with a grin.

“Look, Duff, it’s been a rough day. I had a little powwow with the Svartálfar and it didn’t go so great.”

“I saw.” It was the first time that he didn’t sound like he was about to burst out laughing.

I sat down on the bumper beside him and groaned. “And now I haven’t a clue as to how I’m going to find the bastard,” I said, talking mostly to myself.

The little hobgoblin giggled and pounded on the hood with his two small hands. I jerked, turning to look at him as he exclaimed, “We can find him for you!”

“What?”

Duff leaned in and grabbed my cheeks in both hands, his fingers pinching my flesh in his growing excitement. “Reave. The Svartálfar. We can find him. You need him? We can find him.”

I stood, pulling my face out of his grip. “I don’t understand.”

“I can get the pixies and some of my people! We can find him, track him. It’ll be fun. We’ll find him for you so my friend can clear her debt. Right? It will clear her debt?”

“You and your friends can do it safely?” Hope started to form in my chest. I might have a way out of this mess.

He nodded eagerly, a grin spreading across his face with a wicked delight. “We can find him for you. We’ll watch from a distance and be safe.”

I stared at him for a second, trying to think of some other option, but I was drawing a blank. “And you have no problem helping me?”

He held up his hand like he was trying to balance a set of scales. “Don’t like the Towers. They killed so many fey. On the other hand, you don’t seem evil. You saved my friend and many others. Also, you seem . . . different. Better. Funner.”

I nodded. “All right. If you and your companions can find and follow him safely, then I’d appreciate your help. You can find me at my tattoo parlor when he settles in one location. I’ll come and get him. He won’t escape a second time.”

The hobgoblin gave a happy shout as he launched himself off the car, his wings thrown wide as he took to the air. He gave me a little salute before darting off. I tried to watch him go but he was surprisingly fast, disappearing around some buildings.

I pushed off the grille of the car and rose with a groan. My side was killing me as it healed, and my clothes were rough and scratchy from all the dried blood. I was hurt, tired, and pissed from today’s adventure. Reave got away, which was the one thing that I couldn’t let happen if I was going to have any hope of saving Low Town and stopping the coming war. But at least I now knew that Robert was in deep shit. Well, deeper than since we last spoke.

For now, Reave was on hold until Duff could get back to me with his location. I would have to turn my focus to protecting Robert and finding a way to get Trixie safely back with her people. If I couldn’t save Low Town, then I could at least make sure she had somewhere safe that I could stash her for a little while. It wasn’t much, but right now I’d be happy with one thing going my way.

16

DAYLIGHT WAS WASTING
away and there was still too much that I needed to get done. I reached Robert on his cell and convinced him to barricade himself in my apartment until I could get him into the parlor for a tattoo. In the meantime, I needed to stop by Chang’s while I figured out what to do to protect my brother.

Despite the fact that the world dangled on the cusp of total destruction, nothing appeared to have changed at the entrance to Chang’s. I cut through Diamond Dolls, barely aware of the exotic dancers as they made their turns around the silver pole in the middle of the stage while customers lounged in battered chairs, sucking down beers. Ducking into the white room near the back of the strip club, I found the two Doberman pinschers waiting for me. Everything normal. Yet, when we stepped into the elevator, the canine pushed the button to the first floor of the subbasement rather than the third, where I always met the old man, causing a fresh rush of tension to gather in my shoulders.

As the doors slid open with a soft hiss, I waited for one dog to lead the way as it always did, but neither moved. I looked down at the dogs, but both were staring straight ahead.

“Come along, Gage,” Chang called, his disembodied voice dancing down the hallway.

Frowning, I stepped off the elevator and walked down the dimly lit white hall before turning a corner to enter the main room. My mouth fell open as my eyes struggled to take in the enormous garden spread before me. Much like the third floor of the warehouse that I always visited with him, the first floor appeared to be an enormous room with two-story ceilings. Yet instead of the usual assortment of tables and shelves filled with rare items, the room housed an enormous garden that would have put Versailles to shame. It somehow looked organized and elegant as well as wild and untamed all at the same time. Lush flowers bloomed around trees that stretched up to the ceiling. But the most spectacular thing was the light. I couldn’t see a single bulb overhead, but the room was as bright as midday despite the fact that we were several feet underground.

It was only when I felt a small hand pat me on the arm that I pulled my eyes away from the garden to look down at Chang. The wily old Chinese man looked older than the Cairo pyramids, but there was a twinkle in his brown eyes that reminded me that appearances could be so deceiving. He raised a large metal watering can and I took it without thinking.

“Come, help me,” he said with a wave of his hand before he started down a winding gravel path that disappeared into the garden. I followed him, parting the limbs of a weeping willow that hung over the path. The light that cast the room in a golden glow dimmed as we walked deeper into the garden, coming under the shade of so many massive trees.

“It looks like you’ve been busy,” I said, struggling to keep one eye on the little old man with the cane while my attention kept getting drawn to the garden.

Chang gave a little chuckle and shook his head. “I have had this garden for years. It is very relaxing to wander here.”

“Yes, but with everything going on topside, I didn’t think I’d find you here.”

The little old man paused and looked up at me. “The world is falling apart. Indianapolis has disappeared like Atlantis and Pompeii. Where would you be if you fear it is your last moments?”

I looked around, taking in the general serenity of the place. Except for the sound of water flowing past the banks of some distant stream that was cutting through the room, it was silent. The air was thick and heavy with humidity and the scent of flowers. It was as if the outside world had ceased to exist beyond Chang’s private Eden.

I looked down at the old man and gave him a weak smile. “I understand.”

“You were always a smart boy, Gage,” he said with a wink. He continued walking with me, following a couple paces behind until he paused before an outcropping of what looked to be limestone. He pointed to several beds of light violet-colored flowers huddled near the rocks. “Give those flowers a drink for me.”

With a nod, I walked over and watered them with the can he handed me. As I stood there, I peered closer at the flowers, taking in their thick leaves and delicate buds. Raising the watering can, I jerked around to Chang, who was watching me with a look of expectation.

“These are Cry Pansies, aren’t they?” I demanded. Chang nodded, his smile growing. Putting the can on the ground, I knelt down for a closer look. “These are extinct.” I barely controlled the urge to reach out and touch one of the blooms. “Not even the Towers have these in their greenhouses.”

“Of course not,” Chang snapped, drawing my gaze up to him again. He waved his hand at the flowers. “No magic or potion value. The Towers only save what they can use.”

I pushed to my feet again and dusted my hands off before picking up the watering can. “Thank you, Chang, for showing me this. They are beautiful.”

“It’s my way of ensuring that certain plants do not disappear from this earth,” he said with a shrug, but his face quickly brightened with a new thought. “I have a small section of my garden dedicated to Saint Helena. That island lost so many plants. I rescued an olive, ebony, and heliotrope.”

I walked back over to the little old man and followed him as he continued to wander through the garden.

“I’m surprised that you recognized the Cry Pansy,” he said, breaking the growing silence.

I paused, staring at a deep red bloom that appeared to be the extinct Cosmo Atrosanguineus. There was supposedly a clone in a Tower greenhouse, but the original was long gone from the earth. Except maybe for the one that I was now looking at. “A long time ago when I was studying, I discovered that I was pretty good at remembering the various uses for plants as well as their growing requirements. I thought when I got older I would spend a chunk of my life working in one of the Tower greenhouses. I always imagined that it would be peaceful and safe.” My voice died off as I stared at the flower. I had never gotten to the greenhouse in Dresden, or more important, the massive exotics greenhouse at the Antarctica Tower. I was too busy trying to escape.

A sigh rose up in my chest and it was hard to hold it in. The greenhouses were just one example of the good the Towers could do. They preserved rare and nearly extinct plants and flowers, which could be used to heal wounds and cure diseases. But the warlocks and the witches weren’t interested in saving the people of the world. Just themselves.

The sound of Chang’s feet steadily moving down the gravel path tore me from my thoughts and I followed him until he sat on a carved wooden bench under an ancient oak tree. He gave a relieved sigh as he settled on the bench and stretched his thin legs out in front of him. Setting the watering can by the side of the bench, I sat next to Chang and looked out across the garden. I hadn’t realized it as we walked, but we had moved uphill, so that we now looked over a large section that was spread out in a vast explosion of color. For just a moment the world had slipped away from us and there were no threats from the Towers or the Summer Court or Reave. It was just Chang and me, lost in nature.

“I’ve heard rumors,” Chang started, his voice soft and almost hesitant. “I’ve heard the Towers are looking for something stolen from them.”

Looking down at the old man, I arched one eyebrow and frowned. “Do you have a guilty conscience? Is there something you would like to confess?”

Chang scowled at me but didn’t speak. My composure cracked and I smiled. “I can’t imagine that your conscience would ever prick you. At least not when it comes to the Ivory Towers.” The brief humor slipped from me and the weight of the situation descended on my shoulders again. “But the rumors are true in a way. They are looking for something they protect, but you can rest easy in that it’s not anything that you’ve recently procured. Well, I certainly hope that you’re not attempting to purchase this item.”

The old man stopped scowling, but didn’t lose his dark expression as he looked straight ahead again. “There are many interesting things that the warlocks and witches guard, but most . . . most are hidden within the Towers and can be accessed by only another witch or warlock. And seeing how you are the only warlock that I do business with . . .”

“We both know I have enough problems. I’m not fetching you new baubles from the Towers to add to your collection.”

Chang didn’t even blink an eye at my comment. Today was the first time either one of us had vocalized what I was sure he had always known. We didn’t speak of my past with the Towers and I never asked how he knew. Chang knew things—that was how he had become the best at acquiring the exotic.

There was a tightness around his eyes as he stared at some distant point. He was turning something over in his mind. When he spoke, his words were slow, as if he was choosing them very carefully. “The destruction of Indianapolis. Nasty business and very visible. The Towers do not handle problems in their own house like that, and if they were all hunting you . . .” Chang paused and looked me over in such a way that I could almost hear the calculator in his head. “If they were hunting you, you would have already been dead. No, I think they lost the one thing that we can actually steal from them.”

“Chang,” I warned, trying to force the wheels in his brain to stop.

“The locations.”

My shoulders slumped and a headache started to throb in my temples. The old man was too smart for his own good. That or . . . “I pray by all that’s holy you’re not the buyer.”

Chang cackled, slapping the bench armrest on his right in his amusement. It was the first time he seemed to slip back into his usual mood. Since I had stepped into his garden, he had seemed subdued and almost melancholy. But then, no one in Low Town was in a good mood at the moment.

“You’re so funny, Gage,” he said as his laughing died down. “Do you think I don’t know where all the Towers are located?”

“How many?”

Chang’s grin became positively evil as he held up eight fingers.

I slapped my hands over my ears and hunched over, trying to shrink into the other side of the bench. “Stop, Chang! I don’t want to hear it! I’ve got enough fucking problems.” Despite having my ears covered, I could hear him laughing at me, and I deserved it. If I stopped for one minute and thought about it, really thought about it, I knew that Chang already knew the locations of the Ivory Towers. The man had his hands on every interesting artifact, treasure, and doodad that had ever been created. Of course, he knew the locations! I just didn’t want to know about him knowing.

I dropped my hands from the sides of my head and let them dangle between my legs as I stared at the ground, feeling as if I were worn down to the bone. Chang stopped laughing and grew silent beside me. He shifted on the bench and leaned forward to look at my face.

“Is that why you are here? Someone knows and you think I am buying the information?”

I sighed. “In all honesty, the thought didn’t cross my mind until a minute ago. A different problem has brought me here today.”

The old black-market seller clapped me on the back. “Gage, you can’t afford another problem.”

“No shit,” I muttered. With a grunt, I sat back against the bench and stretched out my legs in front of me. The peace of the garden was starting to seep into my soul, easing away some of the tension. I pushed aside thoughts of the Towers and their wayward secret. I suppressed worries of Reave and the havoc he could wreak on this world. Arianna’s problem was what had dragged me to Chang’s doorstep. I was focused on the Summer Court and would deal with the rest when I heard from Duff.

“What do you know about impregnating elves?” I asked.

For the first time since I had met him, Chang looked dumbfounded. His little face wrinkled up and his mouth hung slightly open as if he was struggling to formulate a good answer. I came to Chang when I needed something to undo a curse, some magical protection, or maybe just a little bit of weirdness for a tattoo. This subject was not a comfort zone for either of us.

“I’ve not made any elf pregnant!” he finally exclaimed.

A deep chuckle rolled from my chest before I could stop it. “Not accusing you,” I said with a grin. Draping my right arm over the back of the bench, I turned slightly so that I was facing him. “My latest problem is with the elves. Particularly the Summer Court, though I wouldn’t be surprised if they were all having this problem.”

“Are you trying to have a baby with an elf?” Chang shook his head, looking worried. “This is not a good time, Gage. Maybe you should wait.”

“What? No! No, I’m not trying to have a kid.” I jerked back from him like I had been stung. “I’ve agreed to help the Summer Court. They’re having problems reproducing.”

“Oh!” Chang laughed with a clap of his hands, looking more than a little relieved as he slumped on the bench. I was with him on that one. I definitely didn’t need a kid when hell was breaking loose all around us.

“I’ve got Trixie checking with the Hearth Women for some herbal remedies,” I continued, now that his mind was with me. “But I’m willing to bet they’ve tried most of that already. I’ve got a couple potions that I use to help keep people from getting pregnant, but I don’t know any fertility potions or even spells. I was wondering if you had some kind of charmed item that might have been owned or created by some long-dead fertility god. Or how about a colored egg created by the Eostre? She was the goddess of fertility, right?”

“Yes, but that is not what you need.” Chang frowned at me. “Creating children isn’t easy business.”

I arched a questioning brow that stopped him, causing him to think about what he just said.

“Bah!” He waved one hand at me in irritation. “Humans breed like rabbits because they are so fragile. I mean creating children isn’t easy when magic gets involved.”

“Why?”

He placed his scratched wooden cane in front of him and rested both hands on the curved end before looking at me. “Birth, babies . . . it’s all a matter of old magic. Not that stuff those Towers use.
Real
old magic.”

“You’re talking the big bang, start of the cosmos, fabric of time, and breath of life magic,” I said softly. Chang nodded and I heaved a heavy sigh. This was stuff that I didn’t mess around with. No one did.