Chapter Twenty-One

“Lambert is headstrong, cocky and foolhardy. There was an initial tendency toward self-centeredness, but we are confident this has been reduced to a manageable level. Student is not lacking in courage and is willing to protect a subject at cost to himself. Has accepted ideology well, and is exceedingly dedicated— therefore, should not be promoted to full Senior Guardian for the foreseeable future. Recommended for field assignment.

—Final Evaluation and Approval of Assignment, Junior Guardian Julian Lambert

We were called to a meeting in the early afternoon by Liberty, who wasted no time. A letter had been found on the front doorstep, addressed to me and signed by Ivan. Its contents, at least as they pertained to our position— were true—the scouts Liberty sent out reported identical black carriages, filled with bored and well-armed men in every street leading to the complex.

You are surrounded, the letter began. I trust you are aware of this. You know how these things are done, Julian, and you know there is no hope of escape for you, or any of the rest of your allies. I am only interested in you. If you remove yourself from the complex and surrender to me, I will withdraw and leave your friends in peace. Be honorable for once in your life and put the welfare of others before your own.

Liberty ceased reading and looked around at us. I swallowed, and stared at the tabletop. There was a long silence, in which every eye turned to me. They would expect me to acquiesce, I thought, and I felt the jaws of the trap closing about me, the fate I had eluded for so long before me once more, in even more hideous form than I had ever imagined. There was no way out.

“It is, of course, all lies,” said Liberty after a while. “No hunter would surrender such a valuable target as we are, willingly, in exchange for a single individual. He simply wishes to secure Lambert for himself, so there is no possible avenue of escape.”

I stared at her, though no one else in the room seemed as shocked as I. “I…” I started, and felt my voice fail as their attention turned once more to me. I swallowed hard. “If there’s the slightest chance he may leave…”

“You will be playing into Ivan’s hands,” said Tobias. “I, for one, will not have that.” He glanced at Liberty.

“Ivan is worried you might escape,” she said. “If he were simply to attack, there would be the chance you would vanish or die in the ensuing chaos. This way, he will be certain of having you, alive and unharmed. Vastly preferable.”

I wanted to believe her. I desperately wanted to use that as an excuse.

If he was not lying, if those around me were marked and enslaved because I’d allowed cowardice to dictate my actions, I would not forgive myself.

Be honorable for once in your life and put the welfare of others before your own.

Ivan had known exactly what to say. Every time I had had to choose between myself and another, I had chosen myself. I had left Harold to fend for himself in the woods and again with the Guardians. The mantis and the hunters I’d faced alone, but only because I knew I had no chance of survival otherwise.

My life had been spent in fleeing, and I could not continue.

“We will barricade the front doors,” Liberty was saying, “and I want the magicians to put as many nasty surprises as they possibly can directly behind the barriers. Tobias, stay in the infirmary with Anne and your other assistants. As long as you’re functional, we have a chance.”

I’d led Ivan here, and Liberty, who didn’t even like me all that much to begin with, was now planning a last ditch defense of the complex—for me. Ivan had written as much in his taunting letter. I was the only reason he had come.

I knew what would happen, as clearly as if it already had. I’d seen the reports. They were trying to fight on my behalf, and they were fools for it. Liberty must never have seen these reports, never read these accounts.

I spoke before I made the decision to, the words tumbling from me. I did not care I’d interrupted Liberty. I did not care I was damning myself by speaking. If the complex fell, it would be with Margot and Josette and Lars and Anne and Tobias. I would not have that on my conscience.

So I told them what would happen, what I had read a hundred times over in Guardian pamphlets and handbooks, reports from the field and textbooks. I had been a senior Guardian. I knew what I spoke of.

We would fight. The hunters would die of our ‘nasty surprises’ and retreat, setting their own magicians to disarming them. That accomplished, we would be overwhelmed, forced back toward the infirmary. As a last resort, the doors of the room itself would be well barricaded, and the hunters would pause again. We would think we had won. There would be quiet hope, and then…

There were a variety of gasses they might use. The Guardians had similar things at their disposal. I’d seen the reports.

It hardly mattered which, as the outcome would be the same. Tobias would be unable to dispel it. There would be no place for it to go, as they’d be certain to seal the room from the outside as well. My powers would be useless, and our magicians’ as well. It would take a long time, far too long, for them to dismantle the spells trapping us there, even if we retained consciousness long enough to remove our own barricades on the doors. There would be panic, scrabbling at the windows, Tobias’s sanctum turned to a place of terror and despair. Some might even kill themselves to avoid a marking. Those who did not would wake on the table.

The room was silent. People looked at me, and I saw the horror in their eyes, a horror I had planted.

“We have no choice.” Liberty folded her hands on the table before her. “Ivan will not retreat if you sacrifice yourself.”

“I’m not going to let this happen to you because I led Ivan to your door.” I didn’t feel anything— it was as if my mind stood two steps back from the whole, observing impartially. I should have been frightened. What I was about to propose was tantamount to marking myself. It was so far better than the alternative.

“Then what do you propose?” she snapped.

“I’ll go to him. It’s worth a chance. Even if he’s not planning to keep his word, I can distract him. My powers are great enough to do that at least.”

Tobias drew in a sharp breath and looked at me, his mouth a thin line. I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. “I suppose I’ll be able to stir up enough trouble to allow you and the rest to escape.”

“You’re insane.”

“Far from it,” I said, and rose. “You know what will happen if I do not.”

“Lambert…” There was warning in Liberty’s voice. I turned on her.

“I’ve been doing this since I was fourteen,” I snapped. “I know damn well what we’re dealing with. Listen to me for once—this is the only way we have any hope at all.”

They looked at me, silent.

“If we cannot escape…” said Liberty after a long moment.

“You’ll have more of a chance this way,” I said.

Liberty didn’t like it. She hesitated again.

“At least I can make sure he won’t be giving orders for a while.”

“Then do it,” said Liberty, and looked at me. There was a new respect in her eyes, something that lifted my heart to see. I’d done the right thing. “We’ll get you back if we can. We won’t leave you to them.”

“Does he give a time?” I asked. “Or am I simply to step out into the street and cry ‘here I am’?”

“He gives a time. Four in the afternoon—the date is today’s. He wishes to meet in the alley on the western side of the complex.” She shook her head slightly. “He must be working under a government commission to have the ability to attempt a raid on this scale.”

I looked at my watch. It was just past three. “Liberty, might I have some time…?”

“Of course.” There was sympathy in her eyes. I tried not to notice it, and pushed in my chair.

“Julian?” I paused, and turned back to them. Liberty rose. “Thank you.”

I managed a nod, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in my throat, and left.

* * * *

I didn’t realize the enormity of what I was doing until I reached our room, and looked about it. There, under the bed, was the battered case I’d purchased on the way to New York, now empty. There was nothing of mine here save for clothes, my Guardian’s card, a book on loan from Tobias, the stub of the airship ticket that had brought us here, and a pressed flower—a gift from Josette. My life in scraps, spread on the table.

I stood in the middle of the room, looking at the golden sunlight puddled across the covers and floor, and smelling warm wood and dust, and felt the tightness in my throat grow worse. I drew a breath, closing my eyes.

The door opened. “Julian…”

“I’m sorry,” I said, not turning around to look at Tobias. “I just can’t see any other way.”

“I know.” He put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “He will not have you. We’ll find a way out of it. He will not have you, I promise you.”

“Toby, don’t make promises like that.” I felt the tears sting my eyes as I said it. “You need to help Liberty get everyone out. I don’t matter.”

He stepped back. “You don’t matter? You don’t matter?” He looked as if he would very much like to slap sense into me. “You are like a father to three incarnations and a magician, my particular friend and assistant, and a damned brilliant mage. We will not allow that goddamned hunter to kidnap and mark you. Don’t you dare say you don’t matter!”

“Thank you,” I said, because I could say nothing else, and raised my head and looked out the window. Tobias’s sentiments, though comforting, would do nothing to save me. “Damn him.”

Tobias let out a breath. “It’s not your fault,” he said.

“Damn him,” I said again, and sat down on my bed. Tobias settled himself next to me, rearranging his wings.

“Julian…” he started again, as if he had something comforting to say, and then he went silent. I tried to swallow back my misery, to no avail. I’d become so close to him—it was hard to imagine a better friend or companion.

“I’ll talk to the girls and Lars for you,” said Tobias. “I’m sorry there wasn’t enough time…”

I forced a smile. “I think they’ll understand.” Of course they wouldn’t, but I needed the lie.

There was a rap at our door, and Liberty entered.

“It’s time,” she said. I swallowed and rose.

Tobias followed us only as far as the infirmary. He had his own duties to attend to. I bade him a brief farewell there then followed Liberty through the complex to the door on the east face of the building.

I drew my fan, and put my hand on the latch, looking at her. Liberty bowed slightly to me, and I swallowed again, realizing there was nothing to say. Then I opened the door and stepped into the alley, hearing the door latch behind me, feeling the slight vibration as the protective spells engaged.

Ivan stepped out of an alley, looking at his watch. “You’re late, Lambert.”

“I’m here,” I responded, raising the fan. He made a gesture, and it tore itself from my grip.

“I knew you’d try something like that,” he said, and looked me over with some satisfaction. “You’re still a street urchin at heart. No sense of honor at all.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“You did take me up on my offer.” He smiled, a smile as cold as any Elite.

I looked around, feeling my confidence ebb as I did so. I had been a fool to imagine I could trick him, and when had he ever kept his word? At least some would escape. I prayed Tobias and the brood would be among them.

“Come along, then,” said Ivan, sounding altogether too happy. He stepped forward. I backed away.

“Julian,” he said, condescending, “if you resist I’ll have to break our agreement. Be sensible and come quietly.”

“As if you’d keep your end of the bargain for a moment.” I dodged as he grabbed at me. “I’m not that stupid.”

His jaw clenched and he pulled out a revolver, leveling it at me. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I bring you in intact.”

I froze briefly, staring at the muzzle of the gun, decided I didn’t care, turned my back, and ran. He cursed, but did not fire. I heard running feet behind me. Something slammed into my back and I fell flat on my face in the street.

I tried to push myself up, and Ivan shoved me back down, caught my wrists and pinned them behind my back. He muttered a few words under his breath, and I found myself unable to move. He snorted.

“Pathetic, really,” he said, and lifted me bodily and leaned me against the wall of the alley. “A lot of good the wind’ll do you if you can’t move to summon it. The others will be here soon. Don’t look so low about it, Julian. I doubt you’ll be alone by the time we’ve finished.”

I was lost. I still had to buy what time I could—every moment Ivan stood here talking to me was a moment he wasn’t helping his men, and so I asked the first thing to come to mind.

“How did you know?”

“Pardon?” Ivan raised his eyebrows, looking at me with his favorite expression of tolerant amusement.

“How did you know I was a windmage? What made you suspect?”

“It’s a hell of a time to be asking that, Julian.”

“Mister Lambert,” I told him. “To you, at least.”

“The beggar,” he replied. “Then I paid attention to the wind around you. When you ran into that mantis, the wind rose to such a degree I knew you could hardly be anything else.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to ask next.

I needn’t have worried. Ivan liked his own voice far too much, and I’d started him talking.

“I shouldn’t be entirely surprised you went to ground here, Julian. Inevitable you’d run into these people.” He leveled his revolver, and I swallowed, remembering his comment I would only cease to be valuable if I were dead. Then I realized he wasn’t aiming at me, and my blood froze.

The gun went off, the flat sound of the explosion immediately drowned out by a scream.

I couldn’t move to see who’d fallen. I couldn’t place the distorted voice. Ivan cocked the gun, the ugly muzzle staying precisely where it was. Then he hesitated.

“Well,” he said after an indeterminable moment, punctuated only by the sobbing breath of his victim, “It seems I am quite lucky today. A windmage and an incarnation of Healing, first tier. It’s hard to say which will fetch a better price. Do not move, Healing, unless you would like a second bullet through that wing.”

My hands began to tremble. Wings were delicate—an incarnation would allow only a consort to touch the wings. Tobias lay behind me, helpless and injured, possibly with a shattered wing, and I could not go to him. I cannot remember what I screamed at Ivan, only that it was profane, and lasted until I ran out of breath.

“Let him go. I’m as valuable as he is, you’ve said so yourself.” Tobias barely managed to finish the sentence. It ended in a little agonized sound, and a rustle.

It sounded as if Ivan had uncocked the weapon. I heard shuffling, and then Tobias cried out again. Ivan dragged him by me.

Tobias’s disgust at his proximity was obvious, but he was in too much pain to do anything about it. His left wing hung at an odd angle, bending where there was no joint. The wound still looked fresh, with no indication of any sort of healing. That was wrong. He should have begun repairing himself the moment he’d been shot.

Ivan let him down with no regard for his comfort, and there was another soft cry as he did so. “Magic-inhibiting bullets,” he said cheerfully. “He won’t be going anywhere for a bit. Not until that heals naturally.”

“What are you going to do if he dies before you sell him?” I spat. “You shot him in the goddamn wing, Ivan!”

“He’s stronger than you give him credit for being, Julian. He’ll survive. Once he’s marked, we can remove the bullet. He’ll certainly be tame enough then.”

“I won’t do your dirty work,” said Tobias evenly, “even if it means the mark murders me or drives me mad.”

“Not with your mind intact,” said Ivan. “I know how to deal with one of your kind, Healing, you needn’t lecture me.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I lunged against the spell, fighting it to no avail.

“You are in no position to contest,” said Ivan, snapping his fingers. I found I couldn’t speak. I renewed my motionless struggles, and he loosened the spell just enough to allow me to topple forward helplessly onto the cobbles. I lay there and gasped, while Ivan laughed, a long low sound. “You were never in a position to contest, in fact,” he continued. “Even while you were the senior Guardian, a foolish, posing guttersnipe, always noising your determination as loudly as you could, so the world would never look closely at how pathetic, how incompetent, you really were. I could drive this point home, if I wished.” Tobias cried out again at his kick. “I’m skilled enough I could well mark him here, in front of you. You’d know it to be your fault, then. He came to save you.”

I could not move. I could not even blink. My eyes stung, the cobbles in front of my nose wavering in and out of focus. Hot, impotent rage built in my gut, rage and guilt and terror. I imagined killing him, pressing a revolver to his head and blowing out his brains, watching his face go slack like that of the poor bastard he’d killed.

“That’s been your whole life, Julian. Other people pay the price in saving you, and you simply flee, counting yourself smarter and luckier.”

There was a tiny plant just in front of my nose, wavering in the breeze stirred up by my breath. It was all I could see.

“Field markings have a low success rate, and he might well die of it,” Ivan went on. “He’s too valuable to risk that, but you’ll still know.”

I could not reach the wind. I needed to make some sort of gesture, and I simply couldn’t.

“You’ve won,” said Tobias, disgusted. “Cease gloating. Do you honestly need to reassure yourself this badly?” There was a shuffling noise, and he pulled me into a sitting position, supporting me. “No, I apologize—that should not have been a question, and reassuring yourself will do you no good whatsoever, as your abilities in all regards are already beyond hope.”

Ivan’s eyes widened in amazed rage, and he struck Tobias across the face, then drove a foot into his stomach. Tobias yelped and curled away from the assault.

Something snapped, and I felt the wind as if it were a part of me. It roared around me, building in strength, to the point where I couldn’t have controlled it had I wanted to. I think I remember yelling something, something full of rage and defiance. I couldn’t move, but I didn’t need to. The wind did it all.

I struck at Ivan, at the hunters, at this entire damned world, for what it had made me, and for what it had made the incarnations. Ivan screamed, as I lifted and dashed him against the wall. Blood tinged the stones. The spell shredded from my limbs, and I shoved myself upright, took hold of Ivan’s gasping breath and tore it from his lungs. He fell.

I reached out, felt the people around us, the carriages. I took the breath from their bodies, or dashed them against walls, whichever came easier.

I was shaking now, long, convulsive shudders that robbed the mind of thought, and the limbs of strength, and still the wind screamed. From the corner of my eye I saw Ivan move, a twitch, and I threw him into the wall again, harder. Tobias shouted something. I couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand him. Not important. I knew I hadn’t hurt him.

Ivan was still. I tried to release the wind, and could not. I tried, but it used me now, and I swayed, fighting to extract myself from its hold, a great exhaustion overtaking me.

The wind only grew as the world went dark.

* * * *

“He’s alive?”

“Corpses usually don’t breathe.” I squinted up. I was inside. Somewhere. A plain, paneled ceiling jerked by overhead. From the feel of it, I was being manhandled up a flight of stairs. I tried to move, and couldn’t. A distant fear stirred. Maybe we’d lost, and these were hunters…

The thought tailed off.