Sixty-two

We pulled into Black Briar, the ambulance first, then me in the pickup. When I crossed onto the property, the fence erupted, shooting flames a hundred feet into the air. Not just near the house, but the whole fence, all the way around the property. As far as we could see from the house, anyway. The flames burned long enough for me to pull around the house and park in front of the deck.

The yard was jammed with vehicles, and more were coming in behind me. Not sure if the flames cut off the driveway. Looked like Gunther had called the whole phone tree.

I was out of the truck and half way to the back porch when Deidre came rolling out of the house.

“Where’s Jim?” she asked, looking from my truck to the ambulance where Dena and Melanie were standing. Skella stayed back leaning against the truck.

I kept walking, eyes dry, looking at Gunther who stood behind Deidre, his hand on her chair. I know I looked like hell, covered in blood and bandages.

“Where’s my husband?” Deidre asked, her voice shriller and higher.

Gunther put his hand on her shoulder, but she pushed it off.

“God damn it, Beahaull,” she broke, a sob breaking her composure.

I dropped to my knees at her side, taking her hands in my own. “I’m sorry,” I said, looking at her, watching the light go out of her eyes.

“No,” she whispered. “Not Jim.” She pulled her hands away from mine.

“We found Katie,” I said, my throat felt like I had swallowed broken glass. “He saved her, Deidre. Saved us all.”

“Where?” she begged, reaching over her shoulder to take Gunther’s hand suddenly. He gently placed it on her shoulder where she grabbed it like she was drowning.

Gunther looked at me and I stood, turning back to the truck. “We brought him home,” I said, feeling the way the crowd that had formed held their breath. “It’s not a show,” I growled, scrubbing my eyes. I walked back to the truck. “Somebody open the barn,” I shouted, climbing into my truck. “And the rest of you clear the fuck out of here.”

I started the truck, pulled it around to the barn, where Trisha was pulling the big doors wide. I drove into the center of the barn and stopped, my head on the steering wheel. This was where we sparred, where no vehicle had ever been. This was Jimmy’s domain. The heart of it all. He’d built this place with his own hands and the hands of his clan after the dragon had burned the last barn. This was the focus of the rebuilding—not just of the buildings, but of our spirits.

Once inside, the big door shut and for a brief instant I was alone in the darkness with Jim in the back, quiet as a church mouse.

After a minute, the side door opened and Deidre rolled into the barn followed by Gunther. No one else. It seemed right for the moment.

Gunther flipped on the overheads and I climbed out of the truck, walked around and opened the lift gate.

“I can’t see anything in this damn chair,” Deidre said, her voice icy.

“Raise it,” Gunther said, walking around her to hop into the back of the truck.

Deidre fumbled with the controls of her chair, and the hydraulics began to whine as she raised the seat. It was the Harley Davidson of wheel chairs. She could damn near stand up in the thing, the way it contorted up all the while keeping her strapped in.

Once she was tall enough to see over the lip of the truck bed, Gunther knelt down and lifted the corner of the tarp. He dropped it quickly, looking back.

“It’s true,” he whispered, his face ashen.

Deidre began to wail. I sat on the lip of the truck, frozen in horror. Gunther knelt there, staring down at his hands and the world grew darker.

Time stopped with that wail. It was the worst sound I’d ever heard, worse than the dragon roar, worse than the necromancer curse, worse than the nightmares that haunted me night after night.

And Deidre wailed, her voice cracking and failing, only to renew again within seconds.

Soon an echo rose outside the barn, the voices of Black Briar rising to let the world know that their leader had truly fallen.