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Chapter 30

I was still awake when Connors burst into my room a few hours later.

“What happened?!” she half shouted. “Where is he?!”

“Calm down,” I grunted. “Henri is fine, at least at the moment.”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

I put my hands back down. “It means it’s not over.”

That stopped her in her tracks.

“What?” she said, meeting my eyes.

“I had a visitor last night. Someone I loved and trusted, who I thought was helping me. Instead, he admitted to being the one behind the Tamesis, and he still needs me as the final sacrifice. He took Henri to ensure my compliance.”

“And you just let him?” She glared accusingly.

“Of course not,” I growled, “but he’s stronger than me. Much stronger than me. He paralyzed me until after he was gone.”

“If he can do that, why not just take you?”

I shrugged. “He said he couldn’t keep me like that for longer than a few minutes and doesn’t have any way to keep me captive since you killed his pet sprite. He needed Henri as leverage: someone I care about, to make sure I’ll show up when and where he needs me in order to finish the Tamesis. He swore that if I do, Henri will be fine.”

She sat down heavily. It was a lot to process.

“If you volunteer to be ritually sacrificed to fuel a magical apocalypse, he lets Henri go.”

I nodded. “More or less.”

“I thought the Tamesis required precise timing. And you said that there would be at least five sacrifices. We screwed up the fourth sacrifice, didn’t we? And what about the fifth? The one in Fishtown?”

“I thought so too,” I said, nodding. “But apparently the five sorcerers I killed in Pennsport were enough to allow the Faerie—the one you killed—to lock that node and channel their energy even without a proper sacrifice. And the fifth sacrifice occurred last night, before he came to visit me and take Henri. If you send a unit to that address, they’ll find the body, I’m sure.”

“Fuck.” She put her hands over her face and then pulled them down slowly, as if she was trying to wake herself up. Or hold it together, more likely. “Who is this guy? What’s he to you?”

I grimaced. “He’s the one who taught me how to do what I did in the Fields of Fire. He’s the single most powerful magical being I’ve ever encountered. He’s damn near immortal, one of the first ever human sorcerers. And he’s also apparently my great-great-great-grandfather.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay. What does he want?”

I grunted. “What any evil villain wants. To rule the world and establish the perfect society, free of war and crime and unnecessary suffering. Presumably, he’s the one who gets to decide which suffering is necessary, of course. Isn’t that how it always goes? Hammurabi, Caesar, Charlemagne, Lenin, Mao, it doesn’t much matter. There’s always someone who thinks they can ‘fix’ humanity through their own personal genius and good intentions. In this case, however, he happens to be an immortal sorcerer who’s basically a god and is convinced that his age and experience will let him succeed where so many others have failed. And if he doesn’t get what he wants with my help, he’s willing to sacrifice me and use the Tamesis to get it the hard way. In one stroke, it rids him of the Fae, renders the Arcanum impotent, and leaves him king of the magical ruins—and despite what I told you before, from what I’ve seen, he may actually be powerful enough to take on the combined armies of Earth by himself after all.”

“I see,” Connors replied. “We can’t let him go through with the rite, obviously. Not only does it require you dying—and while you’re a surly son of a bitch, I’m still not keen on letting someone murder you to further his evil plans—”

I nodded in agreement.

“—but also if he’s successful, he takes over the world, presumably killing a lot of people along the way.” She met my eyes. “So how do we stop him without Henri getting hurt?”

“I’ve been thinking about that since he left,” I replied. “He’s an Immortal. He can’t die from natural means—he told me that his life force is tied to the magic in the world around him. But in telling me that, he also gave away how to kill him: we need to cut him off from magic. The trick is getting Henri away from him first.”

“That easy, huh?”

“Not easy, no. But simple. And I know someone who should be able to help make it easier.”

“Oh? How so?”

“You aren’t going to like it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Quinn, after everything we’ve been through in the past two weeks, I think we’re well past what I am or am not going to like. Try me.”

I snorted. “Fair point, Detective Connors. He’s my illegal arms dealer.”

She shrugged. “We’ve broken enough laws in this case already. What’s a few more federal offenses? I don’t think I’ve pissed off the ATF yet. But you seriously think guns will take down this guy?”

“No,” I shook my head. “Eitri isn’t a mere gunrunner. He’s a svartalf weaponsmith. He doesn’t just get me guns outside of proper channels; he also makes my ammo, and he forged my dagger. His ancestors created Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer.”

“And he can make something that can take down a god? What’s this guy’s name, by the way? I don’t want to just keep calling him ‘a god.’”

“Johannes. At least, that’s the name he’s been using for centuries. The Romans called him Janus and worshipped him as one of their most important gods. It makes sense. He has the intimate knowledge of the nature of the veil necessary to design the Tamesis—he was already my chief suspect; I just didn’t know Johannes and Janus were the same person. I assumed Janus was a Faerie, like the other Olympians.”

She nodded. “Hiding in plain sight.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “But anyway, yes, I think Eitri can come up with something that will help. When I called last night, I asked him if he could make something that would isolate a being from the magical fields around him. He said he’d get back to me later today.”

“Alright,” Connors mused. “So assuming your svartalf can come through, what’s the plan?”

I shrugged. “When I meet Johannes in Logan Square tomorrow night, I’ll convince him to release Henri as promised, then we use the device to isolate him. Then we kill him.”

“How? Just a bullet to the face?”

“No, that won’t be enough. Even isolated from magical fields, he has plenty of personal power and I’m sure his regenerative abilities would be more than enough to deal with a bullet. I’m thinking a claymore.”

She looked puzzled. “Like…a sword? You want to go full Highlander on him?”

I shook my head. “No, not a sword. A claymore mine. A curved brick of plastic explosive that propels hundreds of metal pellets in an arc, destroying most everything for about 50 meters in front of it. I asked Eitri to make me a couple, customized with pellets designed to take out magical creatures.”

Connors looked at me for a long second.

“Just so I’m clear on this. You want me to help you ambush an immortal magical being with a device to cut him off from the energy fields around him that sustain his life, then blow him up with extremely illegal destructive devices that are most definitely NOT approved by the ATF, within city limits?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Man, I was really hoping to keep my job after this investigation wrapped up. Just last night I was so full of hope and positivity. All the work the captain and I did to spin this…Son of a bitch.” She bit her lip. “But from everything I’ve seen so far, I’m gonna go ahead and just trust you on this one. Alright, I’m in. I’ll explain the plan to the captain. Hopefully he’ll understand that there’s not really a whole lot of other options. Just promise me that Logan Square will be cleared of civilians to the best of our ability beforehand. We can deal with property damage, even to a major city landmark. But no innocent bystanders getting killed in a police operation. That would be bad for everyone.”

I nodded. “Once I know what Eitri comes up with, I’ll let you know more.”

Connors left to fill in Captain Paulson on recent developments. I, on the other hand, needed a nap—my rapid healing was sapping all my energy. Being awakened in the middle of the night by an immortal monster bearing threats and secrets hadn’t been conducive to the recovery process.

Hours later, I was pulled out of my deep sleep by the phone ringing.

“Hello?” I answered, groggily.

“I’ve got somethin’ for you. How do you want to do this?”

I’d known Eitri for a long time, but I was still perpetually amused at the idea of a centuries-old svartalf who spoke with a thick Southern drawl. He’d moved to Atlanta at some point in the mid-nineteenth century and learned English in the antebellum Deep South, and the accent had stuck.

“Can you bring it by this afternoon?”

“Tonight would be bettah. Can’t take somethin’ like this through the Otherworld without advertisin’ its existence to a half dozen bein’s you don’t want to know about it. It’d shine like a damn beacon on that side o’ the veil. I’ll have to drive up. Take me about twelve hours.”

I grunted. “I’ll meet you at the shop tonight, then.”

I carefully checked my wounds. Knowing the nurse would be annoyed, but not much caring, I peeled back the taped gauze on both the knife wound and the surgery incision. Both bore fresh red scars, well along in the healing process, though still tender to the touch.

I’d insisted they take out the sutures the day prior, after Connors had left, so the scars wouldn’t grow around them—the nurse had been skeptical, but I’d informed her if she didn’t pull the stitches I’d do it myself. My hands and feet were already functional, though painful to use. Moving around, the burn on my back seemed to be mostly healed; it itched more than it hurt. We sorcerers are resilient.

Deciding I had recovered enough, I checked myself out, once again over the fervent protests of the surgeon and the nursing staff. They pointed out that I’d had my chest cracked open and been on death’s doorstep a mere two days prior. But I firmly informed them unless they wanted to try restraining me against my will, I’d be going home, and they processed the discharge paperwork. I didn’t have the time to be lying in the hospital. I took a cab home.

I’d been thinking. The Immortal had outmaneuvered me at every turn—he’d planned for my interference, and even used it to gain leverage over me. It stood to reason, then, that he’d also expect me to try to fight him somehow, to thwart his plan. He’d have his own contingencies in place to deal with that, I was sure. Oh, he couldn’t know exactly what I would come up with, but that wasn’t enough. He’d predicted almost my every move so far. I needed to be unpredictable. I needed to do something he’d never expect. Something to make him react, put him on the back heel, rather than playing right into his plans.

I called Rachel Liu. Connors had told me Rachel had come to Philadelphia while I was still unconscious in intensive care. She’d said she’d be sticking around for a few days, at least until I was recovered. That was good. I just hoped she’d set up call forwarding.

“Quinn?” she answered. It seemed that she had, after all. “What the hell are you doing calling from home? You should be in the hospital!”

“I’m shaky on my feet, and everything hurts, but I’m still alive. That, however, is exactly what I need to talk to you about. Are you still in the area?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Just tying up some loose ends and taking care of some business. Figured there should be at least one functional First Rank minding things until you could take care of it again. What’s up?”

“You know those blood rites I’ve been dealing with the past two weeks? They’re not over yet. I need your help.”

There was a long pause. “Quinn, I’ve known you a while. Not once can I recall you ever asking for my help.”

“Well, I’m asking now. I can’t handle this myself. I need you, if you’re willing.”

“Wow,” she said. “This is that serious, huh? What do you need?”

“Meet me at my shop tonight, around eight. And if you can contact Aengus, tell him I need him, too, if he’s available. I don’t know where he is, but you should be able to find him through official channels.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Tom. I’ll see you tonight.” I heard the click as she hung up.

I hadn’t been able to bring myself to make that call days ago. Perhaps if I had, we’d have been able to stop Hugo from locking in the fourth node, and Johannes wouldn’t be on the verge of success. Perhaps millions, maybe even billions of lives wouldn’t now be on the line.

I had allowed my own issues with the Arcanum to blind me, to guide my decision-making for far too long. I couldn’t afford to make that same mistake again. I couldn’t afford to keep being selfish and stupid. Not anymore.

I didn’t even put the phone down after she hung up, dialing another number from memory. There was no answer, but I left a message.

Replacing the phone on the hook, I realized there wasn’t much else I could do until Eitri got there from Atlanta. I went upstairs, took another one of my healing concoctions, and crashed in the bed. I hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and what I’d managed that morning after Connors left wasn’t nearly enough. I needed a nap.


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