The Rise of Magicks Page 47

“Yeah. I feel it.” She winced as she rubbed her ass. “Small price to pay.”

“Have Duncan and Tonia make you a charm. They’ll know what to do. Wear it, twenty-four-seven.”

“Right now, we’re going to exam so I can look you over.”

“I’m fine, Rach. I landed on my butt. But maybe a little something for the headache.”

“It’s from being pulled out of the trance abruptly, and not by the one who put you in,” Fallon explained. “The herbal remedy’s better for that than the chemical.”

“Got it covered. Come on, Hannah.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks, Fallon.”

Rachel led her away, glanced back. “So much for the quiet morning.”

Fallon went directly to Will to report the breach, left it to him to work out how to tighten security. Then she went to her mother to work together on a magickal overlayment.

That left her little time to check on the prisoner transfers and the progress of the delegation to Quebec. She spent the evening trying various locator spells, searching the crystal, but could find no trace of Petra or Allegra.

“I’ll get through,” she said aloud. “Sooner or later.”

By the time she dropped into bed, the two hours in the woods, the simple kiss, the quiet, seemed incredibly far away. And very precious.

She’d just drifted off when she felt a snap in the air.

“Just me,” Duncan hissed before she hurled something nasty at him.

He lay down beside her, wrapped around her. “Hannah. I’m stupid grateful you were there.”

“She’s okay, right?”

“Thanks to you.” He kissed the nape of her neck. “I can’t stay. I want to stick close another night.”

“You made the charm for her.”

“Yeah. Had to be pretty—she insisted.” He nuzzled Fallon again. “Tonia handled the design so it would be. So it’s pretty enough for Hannah, and effective.”

She shifted around to nuzzle back. “Mom and I worked out an overlayment for security. I think it’s effective, too. We thought we had enough already, but—”

“Kid demon from hell. Who expects that? Fucking Petra.”

“I can’t find her, Duncan. I looked, but I couldn’t find her. I will.”

“We will. Nobody messes with my sisters.” He kissed her cheeks, her lips. “I can’t stay. But I could take an hour.”

Her lips curved against his. “This is a really good way to spend an hour.”

* * *

Fallon spent time with her maps, huddled with her father, Will, Eddie, and others over battle plans. She worked with her mother on potions, with Kim on herbals.

To keep her hand in the game, she visited the barracks for some sparring, the academy to monitor a class on spell casting.

And while she continued to search for Petra through the crystal, she roamed through it to mark other areas, study, consider.

When her mother came in, Fallon sat with her maps at the dining room table. “Back at it?”

“Yeah.”

“Want some tea? After a morning in the community kitchen I’m ready for some.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

“It’s wicked cold out,” Lana continued as she moved to the stove to put on a kettle. “I think it’s a night for beef stew. Will you be here for dinner?”

“Should be.” Fallon rose as Lana ran her hands over a teapot to warm it. “Mom, I have something to ask you.”

“All right.” Lana opened a cupboard, considered her teas. Chose a ginger spice.

“I’ve pinpointed the area where Lucy and Johnny came from—the segregated community I told you about.”

“Mmm. Some people never learn, do they? We’re all in this together. Working, living, loving together makes us whole.”

“It’s that, how you’re an example of that, know how to communicate that—it’s why I want you to go.”

“Go?” Lana glanced back.

“To what Lucy calls Riverbend. There are at least a hundred people, and they’ve managed to defend themselves against the occasional raid. Some, on both sides of the river, will fight if they’re given a reason. I need you to give them one. You and Dad.”

“You want me and your father to go, try to convince people who refuse to mix together to fight together.”

“It won’t be the first time, and I can’t think of anyone better suited. You, Dad, and Ethan.”

“Ethan.”

“A family. A blended family.”

“The One’s family.”

“That’s a factor,” Fallon agreed, and moved in to measure the tea. “A witch, an NM soldier, a young animal empath. Two people who survived the Doom and made a life. The son who’s grown up in the world they’ve helped build and protect.”

“Have you talked to your father about this?”

“You first. It’s harder for you because I’m asking you to take Ethan. I’ve seen what you gave up to leave New Hope, and I know what you gave up to leave the farm and come back here. You did it for me, but not only for me. You did it because it had to be done. I need you to show these people what has to be done.”

Lana stood back while Fallon poured the boiling water into the pot.

“That’s not all.”

“No. There are two more settlements. I’ve mapped them. Every person you can rally to fight increases our numbers. I’m asking you to go, talk to strangers, without being sure of your reception, and convince them to put their lives on the line, to send their sons and daughters to fight.”

“When would we…”

“I’m hoping you’d be willing to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But…”

She had a rotation in the community kitchen, and needed to pick up some things from the Tropics. She’d promised to work with the herbalists on—

And the fact she had those things to do, could have them, had helped build the structure for them? The very reasons Fallon asked her to go.

“Don’t you want to wait until the others are back from Quebec?”

“They’re due back in a day or two. We’ll know if we’ve got the support from the north. We’ve got the untapped in the Midwest. I’m asking you to begin to tap it. I’m asking you to leave home again. Only for a few days, maybe a week, but to leave home again.”

“The farm’s where we left it, and New Hope’s right here. Of course we’ll go. We’ll need to talk about—” She broke off at the knock on the kitchen door.

Starr stood on the other side of the glass with Marichu, the fast, young recruit. “Two more cups,” she told Fallon, and went to answer.

“Hi. Come in. It’s freezing out there. I thought you’d gone back to Forestville, Starr.”

“Tomorrow.”

“We’re just making tea.”

“We don’t want to bother you,” Starr began, then looked at Fallon. “You should talk with Marichu.”

“Sure. Have a seat.”

The girl looked around the kitchen, carefully, warily. She’d changed the red in her hair to a forest green, stood in the sturdy boots elves and other cobblers made for the troops.

“Let me take your coats.” Knowing Starr didn’t like to be touched, Lana simply held out her hand. “Fallon, why don’t the three of you go into the living room. I’ll bring the tea.”

“You don’t need to bother.”

“It’s not a bother.” If Starr said she needed to talk to Marichu, Fallon thought, and gestured for them to follow, she needed to talk to Marichu.

She’d neglected the fire, she realized, while she’d worked with her maps, so flicked out a hand to send it flaming again, and added a log.

The girl studied the room as she had the kitchen.

“Sit,” Fallon invited.

Starr, her face carrying scars from burns so deep even magicks couldn’t erase them, hesitated, then took a chair. Her body carried scars, too, Fallon knew, from Petra’s attack. And her heart and soul carried more, from childhood wounds.

Outside of training and battle, she trusted and interacted with few. Marichu struck Fallon as much the same. But clearly they’d clicked.

Lana brought in a tray. As Fallon walked over to take it from her, she murmured, “Stay.”

Fallon set the tray on the table. “Cookies, too. We’re in luck. I’ve got it, Mom,” she added, and began to pour out the tea. “So what do we need to talk about, Marichu?”

“I need to fight when you go to New York.”

Fallon set the first mug down in front of Starr, poured another. “The age you listed is a little shy yet for combat.”

“Not that much, and I’d have just lied if I’d known you had some stupid rule about it. I fought in D.C.”

“And you broke ranks. You weren’t on the squad for the lab and containment center.”

“So what?”

“That’s not the way,” Starr replied.

“I fought in D.C.,” Marichu insisted. “I’m faster than any-damn-body who isn’t an elf. I’m better at hand-to-hand than most of the older recruits. I won the last archery tournament, and I’m better with a sword than most. You said so.”

“I said you’d improved with a sword. She has,” Starr said to Fallon. “I’ve stayed since D.C. to check on progress with the recruits, and I’m going back to the base tomorrow. Marichu’s improved in every area.”

Fallon poured tea for her mother, herself, then sat cross-legged on the floor, took a cookie. “You broke ranks,” Fallon repeated, “and would have put an arrow in Carter after he’d surrendered and posed no threat.”

“I—” One hard glance from Starr had Marichu cutting herself off. “You’re right, and I’ve been disciplined for it. I deserved to be. And you were right, what you said in the lab. We’re not like them. We can’t be like them. I’m asking to fight, to prove myself.”