CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I STOPPED AGAIN on the sidewalk. I couldn’t leave Morty behind, not if there was a single chance he could still be alive. The harpies burst out of the tobacco shop with squawks and curses of fury, four of them hauling the queenly one between them, and crimson rained down from her body as they took to the air with a struggle, bedraggled sisters following after. Steptoe jumped and shook his fist at them, mostly in bluff I think, just in case one or two decided to hang back for bit of revenge. They dipped and flew in ragged formation, barely clearing the streetlights. None turned back and he danced a jig step in victory. I dodged the crimson drops after hearing the sidewalk sizzle as blood hit it.
I heard no cries of surprise or fear; although New Yorkers have seen a lot, I felt they must have surely not seen what just flew over them and off into the sky. Brian groaned and shuddered in my hold, the cane slithering out of his belt and clattering to the ground. I darted after it, but it seemed in one piece, even the dark crystal, as I gathered it up. He couldn’t hold it, so I wrapped my hand more firmly in his shirt sleeve to keep a grip on him, curled my fingers tightly about the cane—gone light and nearly insubstantial again, unfortunately—and turned to say a final good-bye to Morty. Afraid to, but having to, I peered through the grimy window of the shop. The place looked as if tossed, but only mildly considering it had hosted a battle to the death. I searched without seeing him and then my gaze dropped to where Morty fell.
No body rested there. Instead, a massive heap of glittering stone, dust and ashes, gems and metal flakes. My jaw dropped. Steptoe saw where I looked and said, “Sorry, ducks, that’s what happens sometimes,” and he kicked the shop door open. Why, I could not understand.
A wind arose. Sharp and cold. Out of the nearly cloudless and bright warm sky, a stiff breeze swirled up and into the shop, spiraling round and round about the remains of the Iron Dwarf that bore no resemblance to the man I called friend. It filled, this metal and gem cyclone, it filled and swelled with all of his being. I’d had no chance to find out what he knew of my father, if anything. Nor would I see him grin when we brought his wife back to him. And I wouldn’t have him about to tell me about the nature of the stone, brick and mortar, rebar and steel of the buildings that surrounded us. Gone, all gone. It left a very big hole.
The dervish or miniature tornado or whatever you might call it paused as it poured through the doorway. I looked into it, its beauty and its harshness and, for the briefest of moments, I could see a transparent Morty looking back at me. He waited until I realized it, and then inclined his head in a nod.
“All is forgiven,” I whispered. “Every bit of it. You tried your best.”
Like a mirror of a rainbow, the substance gained color and reflected beauty back at me. And then, unexpectedly, three things dropped from the cloud. A black credit card, a driver’s license, and a brass token. I swept them up in my free hand and looked at Morty’s ghost in confusion. “I’m to use these?”
Another nod.
“Thank you. And . . . and go in peace.”
Morty smiled sadly before thinning away to nothingness as the winds began to churn again and then burst through the doorway, whirling away down the sidewalk heedless of pedestrians—I’d say it was heedless of all New York City—as it bore the atoms of his remains away.
The whirlwind gained air as it rose higher and higher, an indescribable cloud, glinting in the sun as it turned away from the city. I watched it disappear from view.
“Did you know that would happen?”
He nodded.
“Where—where is it going?”
“Home. Or, at least, where his family calls ‘home.’ Home to the mines and quarries thereabouts, and earth, and loved ones.”
“He had them, didn’t he? Loved ones.”
“Of course, ’e did! The Broadstones are a family o’ fame, and even without his Goldie, there is plenty of love waiting for ’im there.” He let the door swing closed slowly. “We’d best be off.”
“But—”
He waited.
“I don’t know where to go.”
“We did rescue the lad, after all. We still have a phoenix to deal with. And we need t’ get inside that study of his. See what’s left.” Something glinted deep inside Steptoe’s eyes. I didn’t want to think it was greed but it might well be.
I put the credit card and license in my front pocket but fingered the token. This hadn’t been Morty’s. I turned it about and about, thinking that it looked like a lucky piece my dad used to carry about all the time. He used to tell me, when I was little and we still talked and I adored him, that he had been about to board the bus for work when my mom came running for him and pulled him off the bus to tell him that they were expecting a baby. Unused, the token went back in his pocket and he kept it for a remembrance of a joyful time. I tapped it with my fingernail before putting it away, and the cane I still held took the rest of my attention. It felt as light as a kitten’s whisker, rattling with a familiar sound whenever I moved it, and it came to me slowly what it sounded like.
Not too many years ago, rain sticks had been a cute novelty item, hollow gourd tubes with seeds that showered back and forth inside from end to end, sounding like rain when moved or shaken. I wondered how long the cane could last if it had been hollowed like that, and what made the noise inside of it, shifting back and forth. I truly doubted it could ever shoot perdition lightning forth again, but I didn’t want to throw it away nor did I think Brian could. The bright crystal looked smoky and bleak. I shoved the cane partway into my backpack and leaned down to get my arm wrapped about Brian’s waist. Steptoe did the same and we both looked up as a car slid to a halt in the street, thinking it to be Sam.
Wrong. The police had caught up to us again.
Carter swung his long legs out of the car and leaned back in the window to say, “I’ve got this. I’ll be along later” before joining us.
I let out a long sigh of relief but Steptoe muttered, “He’ll haul our arses to the Society, see if ’e doesn’t.”
Brian gave a movement and a faint moan as if trying to straighten up. I squeezed him a little. “I won’t let him.”
Carter swept his cool gaze over us and into the store, where the proprietor had begun to crawl out on hands and knees from behind the counter. “Trouble?”
“Was. Isn’t now, and we’ve got Brian back.”
“But now you’re missing the big guy.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t help it, my breath caught in my throat at that one, and I turned away so he couldn’t see the tears brim in my eyes.
“Let me take care of this, whatever this is.” Carter stepped into the shop and flashed his badge at the man who didn’t want to get to his feet even when Carter put a hand down to him. He got up, finally, and they talked for a few moments and then Carter—I swear—did a Jedi wave of his hand and the proprietor stood stock still for a long moment. He didn’t move until Carter rejoined us. Carter squeezed me briefly. “I’m sorry about Mortimer.”
Feelings welled up that I tried to shove down. Even the one which gave me the sense that there was no one else in the world on this sidewalk but the two of us. I swallowed tightly.
“Did you know him? At all, I mean?”
“We’d met once or twice, though I doubt he remembered me.”
“If he met you, he remembered you. He had a very sharp mind but kept his thoughts to himself.”
“As a judge does. The Broadstone family is lessened by the loss. All of the Folks, really. I’m sorry this happened around you, too.” He squinted out at the traffic as a horn or two sounded. “There’s your driver. Get in before I have to ticket him for double-parking.”
“Seriously? This is the city.”
“And that is an open car door.” He helped steer Brian into it, got into the front seat himself and left the crowded rear seat to the three of us.
Steptoe glared at the back of his neck for five blocks while Carter gave directions and then had Sam pull into a wide alley. Then, with the motor turned off, we all looked at each other.
“I’m supposed to take you in.”
“Under what jurisdiction?”
Carter shrugged at Steptoe. “Pick one, although I’d say the Society is by far the most interested party, and more likely to believe anything that you say.”
I folded my arms. “I ain’t talking.”
“Didn’t think you would, which is why we’re here.” Carter’s sharp gaze came to rest on Brian. “He’s the phoenix wizard once known as Dr. Brandard. He’s a renegade. Some have even gone far enough to say he’s been outlawed, which means he should be banned from all his powers, but that doesn’t seem to be much of a problem right now.”
“Outlawed?”
“Pshaw,” returned Steptoe. “By those standards, I shoulda been put in limbo long ago.”
“There’s still a chance of that.”
Steptoe drew back in his seat indignantly. “As if I’d ever stand in judgment in front of you lot.”
“Better us than the other side.”
The two traded a very long and hard look before Steptoe pursed his lips and waved a hand. “There’s them that would differ.”
“Just so you’re aware. I don’t like the way you’re leading my girl around.”
My ears burned. His girl! I didn’t know whether to be insulted or pleased. On the other hand, he seemed worried about me. Maybe even a bit protective. Score!
“Me leading? Me? I’ve been on her heels the whole way about. She’s the one ’eaded down the garden path!”
Carter tilted his head a little and they locked gazes again. A second time, Steptoe looked away first, with an unintelligible murmur.
“He did help,” I pointed out. “His flash-bangs drove away Malender at the motel, and then—”
“You saw him? When? And where, again?”
“Late yesterday. And how could you not see him? About a million starlings died between the airport fields and Old Alexandria. I know the airport has a lot of nesters and they’re trouble for the planes, but the birds stay anyway. Or did, until he called them.”
“A million?”
“Well, you know. A lot.”
“He’s really here, then.”
“Again, how could you not know?” I ticked off the facts on my fingers.
“Things do die off on their own. Even schools of fish. Sardines, for example, by the piers, can die for lack of oxygen in the water. Hundreds, thousands of them can go belly up.”
“Or the guy could just step off a boat and suck their little fishy souls dry.”
“Or that,” Brian added in, sounding really, really drunk, his voice slurred and whispery. He tried to sit up, blinking his eyes.
We hadn’t known he’d come to. I perched him up more comfortably between us, and he helped a little, reminding me of some overgrown three-year-old from the days when I used to babysit a lot. You know, back before people couldn’t look us in the eyes any more. He patted the back of my hand as we settled the seat belt into a better position.
“I feel like a wet sack of grain.”
“Noodles,” I told him. “A bowl of well-cooked noodles is more like it. Do you hurt?”
“Everywhere. But I live. And I’ve kept my head.” This last, with eyebrows knotted, and eyes narrowed, at Steptoe.
Steptoe grinned back at him. “Always someone about who will take care o’ that little problem, guv.”
Carter cleared his throat. “I’d like to return to the matter at hand. You all were attacked yesterday by Malender?”
“By himself, in the flesh. I weren’t there, understand, but I had given the little lady ’ere some ammo and ’eard they was most useful. Glad to be of service.” He tipped his hat to me.
“He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. Is he some kind of Fallen Angel or something?”
Shaking his head at me, Carter answered, “Not even close. That’s just a projection, for him, and he’s more than a little vain about it, but you would have, should have, seen more.”
“He brought the tar pit with him.”
Startled, Carter repeated, “Tar pit?”
“A big cloud of stinky, gooey awfulness. I think maybe that gunk was more dangerous than he is.”
“You know more than you should,” Brian said to me. “And he saw you?”
“Don’t you remember?” Brian stared down at his toes in slight embarrassment. I patted him on the shoulder. “We were mano a mano. Or nearly.”
“Gods. How could the two of you allow that?” Carter frowned at the others.
Brian stiffened up a little. “You’ve known her longer. Does she take direction well?”
“Not from what I can gather, but you’d have to ask her mother about that.”
“My observation would say that she is fiercely independent and—”
“Sitting right here, guys.”
“Mouthy,” the professor finished. “Definitely has a mouth on her.”
“Heeey!”
From the front seat, Sam offered, “America is a great country where women can speak freely.”
Carter pointed at me. “Letting him get a good look at you wasn’t wise.”
“Nobody said I should hide under the bed while they fought the good fight.”
“Well, they should have. And, you’re very intuitive. That cloud of gunk is essence that he could not or wasn’t willing to glamour, for any number of reasons. He may be too weak still from crossing the Atlantic, or he may just be flat-out mean and uncaring of what he touches. In any case—”
“Salt.”
He stopped at the interruption. Then, “What?”
“Salt. Salt disintegrated the gunk, or at least its leading edge, when he tried to slither into my room. Made the rest of him very uncomfortable.”
“Kosher salt? Sea salt? Any idea what kind? And how much?”
“Regular, ordinary, in-the-tiny-white-paper-packet salt, although a heck of a lot of it. We were shredding paper everywhere trying to get them open. Next time, just get the big, kitchen-sized shaker.”
Carter’s eyes sparkled. “That’s incredible news. It means he’s vulnerable, at least for now, and we’ve got an ordinary weapon that could work wonders.”
“So take that to your Society and tell them to leave us alone.”
“It doesn’t work quite like that.” Carter scratched his chin uneasily. “I will report the good news, however, and attribute it appropriately.” He unclicked his seat belt. “I’m going to leave this as it is, and let Sam take you back to Richmond. I should be here for a full two weeks for training, but it sounds like you could use my help.”
“We could,” Brian said cautiously.
Carter put his hands up in the air. “No strings attached.”
“It would have to be under those circumstances.” The professor sounded forceful.
“I’ll get released and get back as soon as possible. My postings are fairly flexible.” His glance flicked to me as if I might interrupt with a “Fed!” but I kept my silence. “You need to . . . well, you need to remember what you can and get a protection spell for Tessa. Our opponent always goes for the weak link.”
“I fear he already found it in our departed companion.”
“Mortimer?”
Brian and Steptoe nodded in unison. Eerie.
“He betrayed you? Why . . . and how?”
“He reached out to the harpies, trying to get his wife released because he thought they had taken her, and they wanted Brian to even an old score. They took Brian at the park but they didn’t bring Goldie back.”
“And now we’ve got trouble with the harpy alliance, too? I shouldn’t be surprised. Well, work on keeping Tessa safe.”
“We’ll do what we can.”
“I assume you’re trying to complete a ritual which failed?”
“Yes, but that’s not the cause of the arson. That came about as a result of self-defense against an attack.” Brian went stiff-necked trying not to look at Steptoe.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Carter leaned toward Sam and did the Jedi wave again, murmuring a few words, which I almost, but not quite, made out.
“I’ll leave you all here. Get home safe.”
Steptoe slid into the vacant front seat, and I moved over to a window, as did Brian, while Sam took a few moments to wake up from whatever reverie he’d just been in.
“Home?”
Steptoe patted Sam on the shoulder, “Back to DC and then we’ve another journey. Hopefully a lot quieter than this one has been.”
“Quieter? You guys are so dull I keep falling asleep!” Sam snorted as he began to back the shuttle out of the NYC alley.
The ticket agent at the station made adjustments to our tickets and we just made the train south. He hadn’t even asked for ID for me to use Morty’s card, but I’d had it and a story to go along with it if needed. The ride home did not restore our energy or our hopes, and it was dark by the time we traipsed up the sidewalk to my house, the porch light on, gleaming a faint gold against the night.
Remy sat on the front steps awaiting us.