One Thousand Kisses (14 page)

“I think you’re the dishonest one, Master Fey.”

He released his knee. The cat had best not tell her the prophecy. This was far from the right moment.

She licked her lips and turned to Embor. “He says we have to go to humanspace.”

“I was afraid of that.” Embor felt a surge of relief. The cat wanted them together. He could protect her. He could be with her. He wasn’t sure which pleased him more. The cat popped his head out of the bag and stared at him with what he could swear was amusement. “The Torvals can’t find you in humanspace.”

“How long will we be there? There’s separation sickness to consider. When I visit Tali, we stay near Vegas and the rings.”

“I’m familiar with separation sickness,” he said dryly. In humanspace, with its lack of magic, fairies underwent a gradual transformation during which their brains devolved into a human configuration. It caused pain, anguish and sometimes death.

The Torval agents had meant to inflict that death upon him, in the end.

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve—”

Anisette, he’d noticed, apologized a lot. Her tenderness was to her credit, but some things were better glossed over. “We won’t need two weeks in humanspace to take the agents into custody.”

She almost laughed. “You and I are going to waylay Milshadred Torval and her sibs? They didn’t cover that in human studies.”

“I have a plan.” If the cat could tell him the Torvals’ location, Embor could finish five years of searching in a few hours and return to the Realm to handle the Elders, the AOC directors, his cabinet, the assessments, the election—everything.

Everything except Anisette, but hopefully she’d keep. Their courtship—she—deserved a greater degree of time and attention than he could currently muster.

“How can I help?” She brushed her hair behind her ears. “If we have globes, I can heal, and I’ve become adept at living in humanspace. When I talk to humans, practically no one asks if I’m from France anymore.”

Her skills wouldn’t be needed. This operation should be quick and injury-free. “Not necessary.”

She tilted her face so he could only see the shell of her ear. “If I can’t help, I don’t see why I should go.”

If he told her, would she believe him? “The cat said you should, and I say you should. You’re coming. That’s final.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I’ll think about it.”

She was coming, and he didn’t care what she thought about it. Or what the cat thought, though he and the animal seemed to be of the same mind on this. “Where in humanspace are they, cat?”

“Key West,” Anisette answered.

“But that’s not a deadspace. There’s a ring near Cuba and a small one up the coast.” The Torvals had eluded capture this long by never coming into the influence of the ring network in humanspace, preventing location spells. Current location spells. The spells Talista had almost perfected, once he’d shown her the basics, were going to change that.

“Where does this ring come out?”

“It’s the closest to Key West by land.” Should he be worried the rebels were in Key West, where he and his assets had done so much of their research? Perhaps they were merely vacationing. Bastards. “Ask the cat why they’re in Key West.”

“He says you know everything you need, and he’s done his part.”

“His part of what?” Embor rubbed the bridge of his nose and hid a jaw-cracking yawn. If the cat would talk to him, they wouldn’t still be here debating this. Every moment they wasted was another moment closer to his losing the shield. “Cat, withholding information hinders me. Is there a conspiracy? Did someone send you?”

The cat flicked his ears and yawned, his teeth gleaming. His tail whipped back and forth.

“His part in helping the Torvals get what they deserve,” Anisette said with some surprise. “They tried to hurt him five years ago in Vegas. Now that he’s found them, he wants them to pay.”

Chapter Ten

Ani, makeshift booties strapped around her ankles, crouched behind a pylon at the perimeter of the Cragen ring and suppressed a shiver. She’d been hiding shivers for hours. Whenever Embor had noticed, he’d increased the temperature and the shield had stuttered. She could understand why he wouldn’t sleep, but why wouldn’t he let her infuse him? After much arguing, he’d allowed her to create energy globes, but they hadn’t had the effect they should have. They hadn’t had the effect a direct infusion would have. It was almost like he didn’t want her to touch him.

His exhaustion worried her. People had been known to hallucinate and do other less-than-optimal things when overextended.

By her calculation, he hadn’t rested in forty hours. By her calculation, he’d lied about it fourteen times. She didn’t need the cat to expose that particular falsehood. She’d read the man’s hormones.

What he didn’t know
could
hurt him. Why was he so obstinate?

Now that dark had fallen, Embor had crept off to check the locations of Cragen’s ring agents. This left her unshielded, but the search was concentrated on Embor. She’d felt no location spells or mind touches from Tali.

He’d given her a freeze globe from the rucksack but assured her rings were free of predators like gnomes and annishags. In fewer words, of course. Ani wasn’t sure she trusted that. This place felt unsettled, situated in a meadow with a rocky incline on one side and cliffs on the other. But the guard on duty displayed minimal tension when Ani read her hormones.

The guard sat in a folding chair in the inner ring, reading what appeared to be a human magazine. She wore a fuzzy hat and coat of human make. A balloon-shaped heat globe flickered orange at her feet. A carpetbag slumped beneath her chair, protected from the light snow.

From what Ani could tell, the ring agents here weren’t much older than she was. Three women and two men. There had been no traffic.

The chill, pine-scented air bit the inside of her nose. She blew into her hands, her breath warming her fingers. Across from her position, a stone guardhouse stood between the outer and inner perimeters. Secure buildings would be essential in this district, with its cold weather and predators. Snow sprinkled the grass in gauzy patches. A shape darted behind the guardhouse. The agent, intent on her magazine, didn’t react. Neither did the cat, huddled between Ani and the haversack of supplies.

The inner ring where the agent sat, where the world fabric was thin enough to cross, had been picked out in small stones. Pyrite crystals and igneous rocks. The outer circumference, fifty feet beyond that, was sporadically marked. Smooth pylons lumped beside ancient standing stones that throbbed with magic. Fairy lights brightened the tops, casting a glow into the center and black shadows outside.

The ring itself was weak, but it would still skew the efficacy of spells. They couldn’t rely on Embor’s shield to conceal them once they reached the inner circle.

The guard flipped pages, a crisp flutter of sound. The only other noises were the yips of foxes and calls of night birds. How were they going to get past her? Rings had layered precautions to prevent unauthorized use. One suspicious move and the agent would lock the ring down. Would she have been alerted about Embor’s disappearance? What about agents in humanspace, like Tali and Jake?

Would anyone have a clue where Embor had gone?

Ani wasn’t sure what Embor intended, and her motivations were as tangled as her yarn basket. It was her duty as a citizen to aid the Primary, which sounded more honorable than she felt. She felt like a coward, running to humanspace so the Torvals couldn’t find her. Without Embor’s wards, there were ways to locate anyone in the Realm. Even now she felt exposed and wished he’d return. She had no way of keeping herself safe.

Except fleeing to humanspace. While she wanted the Torval Elders punished, she was not-so-secretly glad she didn’t have to see it through. Proof her brave words this afternoon had meant nothing. Skythia and her staff could, Embor assured her, handle the Torvals. She believed him because she wanted to.

The cat offered no guidance. He curled around her feet in the booties Embor had cut out of the sleep sack. Over her green gown, Ani wore men’s trousers and a tunic from Embor’s supplies. All this combined wasn’t half as toasty as…

Embor’s bubble of warmth enveloped her.

“One is asleep. The others departed.” He knelt beside her in the pool of darkness behind the pylon. His shield was much smaller than it had been, barely a few feet from his body. With a sigh, he scraped his hand through his hair.

She resisted the urge to snuggle against him. She wasn’t that cold. Or that bold. “You’re running out of steam.”

“No, I’m not.” Which made fifteen times he’d lied about it. “Did you sense your sister or any location magic?”

“No.” She hoped Tali hadn’t been told because otherwise her sib’s lack of effort was insulting. “Did you?”

“Many times.” He turned his face from her, but she could tell he was yawning. “It didn’t work.”

She waited to see if he’d elaborate. Embor had been cagey when pressed about his plans for humanspace. The most he’d allowed was the ring had no agents on the human side. The problem was the agent on this side.

When he didn’t say anything else, she asked, “Now what?”

“We proceed. I may be reaching my threshold,” he said grudgingly, resting his head on his hand.

“Let me help.”

“I can make it. I’ll sleep in humanspace.” The warmth emanating from him came from his body now, not his magic. How much strength did he have left? She checked his hormones—anxiety, anger, acute exhaustion. The red of his fire magic was dark, almost gone.

Stubborn man. She clenched her hands so she wouldn’t gnaw on her fingernails. “I can send us to humanspace once we get close enough.” She couldn’t trasnport, but fairy circles she could manage.

His head dropped suddenly and he caught himself with a curse. “What?”

Ani grabbed his arm. “You’re falling asleep on your feet.”

He glanced at her, his face drawn and tight in the moonlight. “Don’t.”

She could infuse him whether he wanted it or not. How furious would he be? He’d resisted all her attempts to fuss over him, and she liked to fuss. “You shouldn’t be this tired after four energy globes.”

“Well, I am,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t always know what she was apologizing for, she just tossed it out there in case it helped.

Embor braced himself against the pylon. Did he regret bringing her? He became so fierce whenever she suggested she stay yet rejected her help. She’d find somehow to help anyway. She jogged him awake when his head drooped again.

“She’s got to take a break eventually,” she whispered. If he’d discussed his plans with her, perhaps her nerves wouldn’t be roiling like a hot spring. “She’s been there hours.”

“I put the one in the house to sleep.” Embor flicked the supply pack. “Freeze globe.”

“So we’ll have a couple minutes until she figures out something’s wrong?”

He nodded curtly.

Ani’s stomach flopped. It was completely illegal to go to humanspace without authorization—even for the Primary. Especially when the last time the Primary had hared off, he’d nearly gotten himself killed.

But by the spirits, what else could she do? Turn him in when she knew he was right, when the Court could have been bespelled against him? The issue with the Torval Elders was more critical than the issue with the agents. His choice to pursue the lesser threat was…

Not unlike hers. She was following him instead of standing up to Warran and Ophelia. Who’d ever have thought she’d share a fundamental character trait with Embor Fiertag?

“Ready yourself,” he whispered. “She moves.”

The agent tossed the magazine down and stood. Warming her hands above the heat globe, she glanced around the circle. After a moment, she strolled the perimeter, adjusting markers with her foot. Embor went as still as death, and Ani did too.

The agent’s path brought her close to their hiding place. Ani prayed to Hella Embor’s shield would veil them.

Apparently Hella was the wrong spirit to importune about shields. Embor pitched forward in sudden collapse, and Ani barely yanked him behind the pylon in time.

His shield vanished. Wind whistled through the treetops as if the shield had been holding it back as well. Ani peeked around the stone.

The agent was staring in their direction. “Who’s there?”

“Mew,” peeped the cat.

Ani’s heart thumped so hard it nearly choked her. Embor sank deeper into unconsciousness. His head lolled against her chest. She wrapped her arms around him to keep him from sliding into a boneless lump.

The cat’s ears perked, but Ani couldn’t hear anything—not even the owl that had been calling all evening.

“Mrow.” The cat’s tail twitched, crinkling dry leaves.

“I said, who’s there?” the agent repeated.

“Hsst, cat.” Ani whispered. The cat crouched in the leaves. If the agent came to investigate, what could she do? She had ill-fitting clothing, an unconscious Primary, a mystifying cat and zero ideas.

The agent remained in the inner circle, or so Ani assumed. She didn’t hear anything until the cat growled, low and deep. Embor’s skin began to cool rapidly. Too rapidly.

Embor could complain all he wanted once he was conscious. Right now, she was making the decisions. Ani gathered her healer’s senses to assess his condition.

His external self was blank with fatigue, a dank cave instead of the orange flames she’d experienced the first time she’d brushed his consciousness. If she hadn’t known any better, she’d have thought he was in a coma. She probed deeper, deciding how best to treat him.

His fabric was riddled with holes, his essence tangled. There was no harmony, no balance. She’d never seen anything like it. Was it the nightmares? The exhaustion?

Then she recognized something she did have experience with from Capital City’s clinic. Energy-globe abuse. Pockets of emptiness in places that should hold reserves. Jaggedness that should be smooth. He’d been buttressing himself with borrowed magic for weeks, and it had gnawed him to shreds.

No time to worry about that. He needed as large an infusion as she could afford, so Ani simply opened and poured.

His body and spirit absorbed her offering so fast that she ached as energy flooded out of her. She felt heavier and heavier, eyelids fluttering when his exhaustion transferred to her. Flashes, spurts of color, interrupted his blackness. His skin warmed, his blood pumped through his veins, his fire sputtered to life.

He came awake with an audible gasp. Ani clapped a hand over his mouth and held him close.

He was mindful enough not to fight her. He lay against her, their hearts thumping in tandem as they listened for the agent.

The cat growled again. His tail fuzzed and began to whip back and forth.

Footsteps. The agent’s voice called, “I’m not budging out of this circle, gnome.”

Gnome?
Ani mouthed at Embor.

The Primary, rickety as an old man, lifted himself off her. Chills swept her skin. She rolled to the side so she could see the agent.

The woman hustled to her chair and plucked several items from her satchel. “If you come in here, you’re dead. You won’t be making skitters when I’m through with you.”

Had the agent mistaken their noises for gnomes or had she noticed something else?

Ani checked for swaying weeds and red hats. Nothing. Embor offered his arm so she could stand. Upon rising, she inhaled but didn’t detect the characteristic odor. Nasty little beasts.

“She could still recall her sibs. I only froze one.” Embor’s whisper sounded pained, but he pressed her hand between his arm and body. “We have to move.”

The cat’s haunches quivered. Again, Ani pulled Embor behind the pylon just in time.

Master Fey sprinted through the tall grasses in the outer circle. The agent shouted something about death to gnomes before the bitter flavor of stone, an earth magic Ani hadn’t mastered, gusted past them.

Had the agent hit the cat? Ani sidled to the edge of the pylon. No, there was Master Fey, bounding above the sparse grass between the perimeters. He released an ear-splitting yowl before disappearing again.

The agent lowered a spell globe. “By Hella. You again?”

“What’s he doing?” Embor hissed.

“Can’t tell.” She swayed, unbalanced by her stance.

Embor wrapped an arm around her. She couldn’t see the cat until he tore into the inner ring. Why was he doing this? Pyrite clattered as he raced past the agent, his hair fluffed like a badger. The fairy twisted to watch him.

“I can’t send you through again, Hairy Man,” she said. “We got written up.”

The cat cast a wild-eyed glance at the agent and scrabbled through the opposite circumference. It was almost like he was running in place on the rocks that delimited the inner ring. Markers scattered like dice.

“Come on, don’t do that. If I can… And he’s gone.” The agent scratched her head. “I’ll never understand cats.”

Ani strengthened her night vision but couldn’t see the cat. The ring agent began to straighten markers. Ani inched behind the pillar.