The Rise of Magicks Page 68

“Trust me.”

“Okay.” Hesitating, he slid his hands in his pockets. “So. When this is finished, I want…”

“I knew this was coming.” Simon sighed.

“When it’s finished, I want us—Fallon and me—to get a place, make a place, find a place. Together. I’d like to get your blessing on that.”

Simon sat back. “You’re never going to be a farmer.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, I’ve got Travis and Ethan for that. Born farmers, both of them. She’ll need some land though. She likes to grow things. She’d start feeling closed in if she lived right inside a town. Nearby, that would do for her, but she needs room to breathe.”

“I love her, Simon. I’m going to do whatever I need to do to give her what she wants, what makes her happy.”

“I wish I didn’t know that was true, then I could say get the hell away from my baby, and I’d keep her with me. But I do know it’s true. You can take that as a blessing.” He rose, extended a hand. “One thing,” he said when he gripped Duncan’s. “No, two things. Finish it first, all the way. And don’t be too much of an asshole with my girl.”

“Deal. Both counts.”

* * *

He brought her flowers. He felt like an idiot, especially since he’d tracked her to a meadow loaded with them, but he brought her a fistful of wild lilies.

She stared at them like she’d never seen a stupid flower before, and made him feel like more of an idiot. “What are those for?”

“They’re for you.” He shoved them into her hands, then followed up with a simple truth. “They’re like you. Bright and beautiful and full of light. So.”

Then he saw Simon had been right, by the way she smiled, the way she bent her head to draw in their scent. Just a little off-balance.

“I can be sorry for pressuring you. It’s just … I feel something pushing in me. I feel it pushing harder and harder. I keep seeing the stone circle, the crows, the lightning. I feel it, Fallon, pushing in that dead wood, gloating in there, and my hand itches for my sword. Tonia, too. It’s the same for her.”

“I know it. I know it, Duncan, and it only makes it more frustrating to know not yet. Still not yet. I’ve asked. I’ve cast circles and asked, but it’s the one question they don’t answer. I’ve looked in the crystal. I see the dragon, the black dragon, Petra on its back. And nothing I do, nothing we do, stops her.

“I’ve looked in the fire, searched the flames. I see Tonia bleeding on the ground, the dragon breathing death, a rain of black lightning. And the circle, the center opens wider, wider, and more dark pours out. It pulls you in. I can’t stop it. And I’m alone.”

It was his turn to lead with the edge. “For fuck’s sake. Why am I just hearing this?”

“I had to think. What does it mean? And I know it means that can happen if we don’t wait. It can happen if we don’t find the way to kill the dragon, destroy Petra.”

“We’re stronger than she is.”

“I believe that, but what’s there, in that place? It feeds her just as she feeds it. And the dragon—”

She broke off, eyes narrowing. “The dragon,” she repeated. “We need to slay the dragon. It knows its own weaknesses, right? If you want to know how to kill a dragon, ask a dragon. I need to talk to Vivienne.”

He grabbed her hand in case she intended to flash away, then and there. “No spell in you for dragon slaying? You’re going to Canada?”

“I don’t know what kind of protection it may have been given. I’m not going to Canada. I need to talk to Vivienne on my ground, not hers. I need Chuck.”

She used Arlys as well to help her craft an invitation both diplomatic and flattering. She asked her mother to bake a Rainbow Cake. She took a ruby from the vaults in D.C., and with it crafted and conjured a gift for the Red Queen.

Vivienne, resplendent in emerald green, arrived with her entourage. Fallon met her alone, and chose the patio, as the gardens held their summer glory.

“How lovely it is here. Such a blooming. And, of course, your vegetables thrive.”

“We’re farmers,” Fallon said simply. “Please sit. I give you my mother’s regrets. She and my father were called away only this morning.”

“Oh? Qu’est-ce qui s’est passé?”

“A small band of PWs to handle. Ne t’en fais pas. Before she left, my mother made a cake in your honor. We call it a Rainbow Cake.” Fallon served a slice. “I thought you might enjoy it with some faerie wine.”

“Perfect.” Emeralds glittered at her ears as she nibbled. “And delicious.”

“I hope you’ll accept this token of our gratitude for your loyalty and comradeship. New York could not have been brought back into the light without your help.”

“My people rejoiced with yours.” She opened the box Fallon had tied with a fancy gold bow. Then wonder spread over her face as she lifted out the curled ruby dragon, laid it in the palm of her hand. “Oh! C’est magnifique. C’est merveilleux! Merci, mon amie, merci beaucoup. Je suis— Ah, English, I want to express myself in English. I’m touched, very deeply. I feel your light in this treasure.”

“Duncan sketched the dragon—you—to help me with the creation. It’s a gift, Vivienne, given in sincere gratitude.”

“Yes. And it will be precious to me.” She set it carefully back in the box, nibbled more cake. “But I, as I’m a cunning woman myself, sense more than a thank-you.”

“Yes, but whatever your answer, the gift is yours, and the light in it, yours.”

“What is the question?”

“While we bring light to the world, there’s still dark. And there’s one who seeks, above all, to serve the source of the dark, which she does with human sacrifice. Children.”

“Mes dieux. Any and all who prey on children are the evil, the deepest and darkest of the evil, whatever form they take.”

“We’re of one mind on that. This woman is my cousin, blood of my blood.”

“Je suis désolée. You have my true sympathy. We have no choice in our blood relations, n’est-ce pas?”

“No, we don’t. Above New York, at the moment of our victory, this cousin, this evil, struck down a friend, a brother of my heart.”

Vivienne reached over, laid a hand over Fallon’s. “I know of this. The young elf, so handsome, who was with you the first time I came to visit you. Je suis profondément désolée, mon amie. I know you sought solitude in your grief. I hope you have found comfort.”

“I found it, and renewed purpose, and even stronger faith. I’ve seen her, in visions and dreams, in Scotland, at the shield. She rides a black dragon.”

“This I’ve heard, of course.” She trailed a finger over the carved ruby. “Some can turn even beauty into evil.”

“To end the dark, to seal the shield once again, I have to destroy the source. To destroy the source, I must destroy my cousin. To destroy my cousin, I must destroy the dragon.”

Fallon waited a beat. “How do I kill it?”

Vivienne lifted an eyebrow, sipped wine. “You would ask me?”

“I’ve seen, in these dreams, in the fire, in the glass, arrows, even bespelled, fail to penetrate the dragon. Aimed true at the heart, they break and fall. Magicks fall away as well. It feeds from the source. Yes, I would ask you. How do I kill it?”

“You would ask me?” Vivienne repeated, in a voice gone cold. “You would ask me to give you the means to destroy myself? You offer cake and wine, offer a symbol of what I am, then ask me to reveal how you might kill me should you want what I have?”

“I’ve given you my oath. What’s yours is yours. Why would I wish to harm so valued a friend and ally?”

“There are others who might covet.”

“You are and always will be under my shield, as will and always will be your people. Help me end this, so your people and mine, so all people can have peace. The gods brought you to me, I believe that, so we could prove ourselves to each other. And having proven, I could ask you this question. You would search your heart and give me the answer.”

On a huff, Vivienne stood, stalked around the patio with her emerald gown swirling. “You ask me to put my life into your hands.”

“She lures children, young girls most usually, out of their beds, takes them into a wood where only death and dark remain. She rends them there, on an altar, to feed the beast. The dragon protects her, kills for her, burns for her. Should I show you?”

Vivienne threw out a hand. “No. I’ve seen enough of what this evil can do.”

“The last she disemboweled on that altar was just sixteen. Her name was Aileen.”

“Mes dieux, merde, ça pute!” When she ran out of curses—that took awhile—Vivienne turned to stare hard into Fallon’s eyes. “Who will you tell?”

“Duncan and Tonia, also my blood.”

“Like your whore of a cousin?”

“Nothing like her. You know that without me telling you. I’ll tell the man I’m pledged to, and his twin, who’s a sister to me. These two who, with me, wrapped Aileen’s body in a blanket and took her to her family. The two who will go with me to finish it so together we can destroy the one who turned the glory of his spirit animal to the dark.”

Vivienne sat again, poured more wine into her glass. She drank it all. “We are so few,” she murmured. “I had hoped there would be a way to turn this one back to the light. At least to the shadows, yes? But children, young girls, sacrificed? There is no forgiveness for this.”

She added more wine while Fallon waited, this time took only a sip. “In the stories, it’s often a sword through the heart of a dragon. Or perhaps used to cut off its great head. Mais non. It may be the dragons of old could be killed in such ways, but not those of us who shift. I hope there are more of us. I must hope. Perhaps they hide, perhaps they still sleep.”