Harley Merlin 16: Finch Merlin and the Blood Tie Page 8

  “Apollo? I thought that was you.” I nodded to him on the approach. The caribou was in my sights.

  He jumped, jostling the cup in his hands. “Oh… Nash. You startled me.” He flicked spilled liquid off his hand, then looked at me. “Are you supposed to be out here?” He squinted like he couldn’t remember what our status currently was: prisoners, guests, or something in between.

  “I think Her Majesty likes it better when we’re not around.” I gave a crooked smile. “As long as we’re not sniffing around the libraries, we’re golden.”

  He frowned. “Golden?”

  “We can go where we want.” These folks struggled with context. “Actually, I’m glad I bumped into you. I wondered if I could have a word.”

  Huntress sat back on her haunches and fixed Apollo with one of her bluest stares. Apollo glanced at her, apparently unnerved. She tended to have that effect on people. Truth was, I could never trust someone who didn’t like dogs, but I trusted a dog who didn’t like certain people. Huntress didn’t mind Apollo, but it served to have her in intimidation mode at the moment. A low growl in the back of her throat worked better than any game of good cop, bad cop.

  Apollo turned his attention back to me. “What do you want to discuss?”

  I took a few steps away from the coffee cart, in case the vendor was listening. I didn’t know their definition of treason, and I didn’t want to risk stepping into that gray area with strangers eavesdropping. Huntress nudged the backs of Apollo’s legs, and he followed.

  I paused in the shadow of the building opposite the coffee cart, tucking into a recess where another statue of their fish-tailed founder stood watch. Once we were alone, I faced the advisor. “I just wanted to get your opinion on this love spell business. I remember you saying you didn’t like the marriage situation—and hey, you’re entitled to your reasons for that—but we’re on the same side in this. I don’t like it either, for different reasons.” I paused, searching for the right words. In the end, I settled for plain honesty. “Maybe you could help me? You’re Atlantean; you’ve got a better grasp on the love spell than I do. How about we break it and set Finch and Her Majesty free? Who knows, she might thank you for it.”

  Apollo’s eyes flitted up and down the street. He clearly didn’t feel comfortable being seen with me. “I do not think so, Nash, nor do I think you should speak of this to anyone. I understand your disgruntlement and will offer my discretion, but you have woefully misunderstood me if you believe I will be your ally.”

  “You’re not bothered by the marriage and the love spell? No offense, but I don’t think I misunderstood anything. I heard what you said. Did something change?” I pressed. Huntress had him penned into the recess in the wall, her eyes locked on his face.

  He grimaced. “Very well, you are correct in part—I am unhappy with the marriage. Despite my feelings, however, I remain loyal to my queen. I wholeheartedly trust her judgment, even if I do not care for the consequences she must endure because of it.”

  He loves her. His heartbeat quickened when he mentioned her. Huntress gave me a canine side-eye.

  I nodded subtly back at her. For once, I didn’t need your senses to know that.

  Love made people stupid, but it also made people sacrifice everything they had. It gave ordinary mothers superhuman strength, and it made terrified fathers run into burning buildings. It gave lovers the patience to endure anything, from the everyday to the extreme: a girlfriend’s cold feet on a boyfriend’s legs, a wife swallowing her anger over seeing beard hair in the sink, each willing to take a bullet for the other. It allowed children to forgive their parents for anything, and vice versa—at the expense of their sanity—and prompted dogs to sit out on sidewalks in the bitter cold beside an owner who had lost everything.

  If Apollo was willing to ignore his disapproval and suffer on the sidelines, wanting nothing but Kaya’s happiness and success, then he had to love her truly and deeply, the kind of love that made people put their lives on hold. I knew that could get unhealthy and obsessive, but I had no place lecturing him about that.

  I persevered. “What if she’s made a huge mistake? Wouldn’t it be better to hit the rewind button on all this before it turns sour?”

  Apollo gave me a hard look. “You cannot speak like this in public, or even in private. If you had gone to someone else with such a proposition, it might well have landed you back in prison.”

  “A guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do, when it comes to folks he cares about.” I shrugged. After the first couple of prison threats, they’d started to lose their edge. “Good people don’t come around too often, and love comes around even less. You’re supposed to fight for it, not let someone else take it. Especially not someone who doesn’t even want it.”

  Apollo glanced over his shoulder. “How are you able to wander so freely? I am certain that you were supposed to have sentries attached to you at all times.” My last comment had thrown him. Now he was scrabbling for a distraction. People didn’t like to face the truth.

  Huntress flashed a fanged grin.

  “I lost them in the palace gardens about an hour ago. A hedge maze is a man’s best friend when he wants some privacy.” I gestured at him. “I wasn’t going to come and find you with guards tracking my every move.”

  I thought I was man’s best friend. Huntress flicked her ears.

  No, you’re my best friend, I replied. And now you’ve got me talking all sappy.

  Her eyes glittered with humor. Mission accomplished.

  “So, you did not simply happen to ‘bump’ into me, as you so quaintly put it.” Apollo looked as amused as Huntress. “You are quite persistent. You would make an excellent soldier in our ranks, if our queen did not think you unworthy.”

  “I’ve been a soldier, Apollo. I wouldn’t go back to that life for all the gold in El Dorado. But it did teach me to seize every scrap of good you can find, because you never know if it might be the last,” I said. “Staring death in the eyes gives you a hell of an education, let me tell you.”

  Apollo dropped his gaze. “I can only imagine. We have a magnificent army, but none of our soldiers have faced true conflict. They are peacekeepers, not warriors.” He lifted his head again. “Until you, I have never met someone who has fought in a real war.”

  “It’s ugly. Always. And if there’s another choice, it should always be taken. When the dust settles and the remaining soldiers stand down, bloodied and wounded on the inside and out, it’s rarely worth it.” A lump formed in my throat. Faces of lost friends swam before my eyes. I’d been young then, but even after so many years, the scars remained.

  Apollo’s brow creased. He looked uneasy all of a sudden. “You ought to be more careful. You are not a soldier anymore, and we are not your enemy. Do not make us one.” He edged past Huntress, who growled quietly.

  Should I stop him? she asked.

  Not this time. She softened her growl and let him pass.

  He started to walk away but turned back at the last second. “I may not agree with some of her choices, but I will be loyal to my queen until my last breath. It is better to give her my counsel, in any capacity, than allow my personal feelings to distance me from her.” With that, he quickly retreated.

  I couldn’t argue. He talked sense, despite his skewed reasoning. Could he do more for her by helping us break the love spell? Without a doubt. But I knew a lost, lovestruck cause when I saw one. He had Kaya on a pedestal.

  I checked the street for any sign of sentries. Huntress sniffed the air and gave me the all clear, allowing us to slip away from the financial district. I had more business to attend to in the Trench. Melody, Luke, and Ryann hadn’t been able to come up with any Atlantean history. Not the right kind anyway, featuring talk of love spells, etc. And with the libraries off limits, our remaining options were a little seedier. On my way to the Trench, I cut through an alley between two white buildings. Sea glass orbs shone in the fake sunlight. Like the air, the orbs felt artificial. And there was
no breeze to speak of. Perhaps I was just grumpy, but still… this was nothing like the real deal.

  Someone’s coming! I hear them. Huntress came to a standstill at the end of the alley, her nose pointing. Beyond stood the towering back wall of the prison. I hadn’t wanted to tempt fate by strolling right past the entrance, in case the guards got interested, but this was one of the quickest ways to the Trench—a network of alleyways which eventually led to the underbelly of Atlantis. A crossroads lay up ahead, or rather a small square with a statue in the middle: a goddess of some kind with a blindfold over her eyes, and a set of scales held in outstretched hands. An older version of Lady Justice, maybe. The northern path was my usual route to the Trench. But figures were emerging from the eastern alley, coming right into the square.

  I flattened my body to the wall, and Huntress lay on her belly, covering her nose with her paws. Taking a mirror from my pocket, stolen from my room in the palace, I angled it so I could see what was going on. If they came this way, we’d have to run for it.

  With a raised hand, the figure at the front brought the men behind him to a halt. I counted five in total, each hooded in a blue cloak. But the ringleader was the only one empty-handed. The other four carried a wooden box about the size and shape of a coffin. And I’d be damned if they didn’t look like pallbearers.

  What do you smell? I passed the message to Huntress.

  She gave the air a tentative sniff. I smell death. But there is a scent beneath it that is… familiar. Two of the scents are, actually.

  Can you identify them?

  She sniffed again, and her ears pricked up. It’s Ovid. Ovid is in the box! And the other smell… I know it. I’m sure I do.

  “Can we set it down, Faustus?” One of the pallbearers solved the mystery for us.

  The hooded figure at the front turned, and I caught a glimpse of that familiar face. “Quiet! And no, you may not. Stay here while I speak with the guard on duty. If you so much as lower this coffin, I shall have you punished!”

  Why would they be carting Ovid around the city? Isn’t he supposed to be getting shot into the ocean tomorrow? I pulled the mirror back and sank deeper into the shadows. Faustus crossed the square and approached a large, ominous door. The back entrance to the prison, likely installed for celebrity criminals and those who were at risk of being attacked for their crimes.

  A better question would be, why are they all wearing hoods, acting shifty, and using back alleys to bring the coffin here? Huntress replied, with a hint of sarcasm. It was odd. Very odd. And it left a nasty taste in my mouth. At breakfast the other day, Kaya had put her trust in Faustus to keep her father’s body safe. It didn’t look like he was taking care of the old king. At least, not the way he should’ve been.

  I watched as Faustus knocked and a stocky man answered the door. He peered into the square as if the hounds of hell were about to burst out and drag him away. A second later, Faustus put his hand on the man’s shoulder and started speaking in a low voice.

  Can you hear anything?

  Huntress’s ears flicked back and forth. Faustus is trying to calm the man down. He keeps repeating something about “arrangements,” but nothing specific. The man is panicking—I can hear his heart racing—but he is telling Faustus that everything is prepared.

  She’d just finished her running commentary when Faustus beckoned the pallbearers to come forward. Heaving the box along, they crossed the square and disappeared into the prison. The hefty door slammed behind them, leaving Huntress and me fearful of what was about to go down inside.

  What should we do? Huntress tilted her head up.

  We stay and find out what they’re doing. Then we go from there.

  Huntress rested her head on her paws. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

  I took a breath. That there’s only one reason they’d bring Ovid’s body to the prison where they’re keeping a notorious Necromancer that Ovid was obsessed with?

  It seems we’re on the same page. Huntress whined in the back of her throat.

  We waited for an eternity in that alleyway. My legs and back ached, but I didn’t move. However, my mind continued to whirl. This was precisely why I hated this place. We kept being tossed from the frying pan to the fire, then into another frying pan, then another fire. It was an endless cycle of nasty surprises. And the games and squabbles and deceits had all but drained my tank. How had I gotten roped into a royal drama? If it weren’t for Finch, I’d have left them to it. But if this ended the way I thought it would, then Finch would find himself caught in far worse crosshairs.

  Why couldn’t you have stayed a lying bastard? I asked myself. After my last tour, I’d isolated myself so I wouldn’t have to give a damn about anyone again, except for Huntress. It hurt too much otherwise, like plucking out bits of my heart and throwing them in a fire. And it’d been a two-for-one deal—hide from Sanguine hunters and keep myself away from people I might care about. But then Melody, Luke, Ryann, and Finch had exploded into my life, and I’d had no choice but to care. I’d forgotten how brutal it could be, always fighting to protect my friends and comrades.

  Over an hour later, after my body had stiffened like a board, the back door screeched open. Six figures emerged this time. All hooded. No box in sight. The two figures up front walked a short distance ahead of the others. And one of them clearly hadn’t gotten the memo about keeping quiet.

  “That daughter of mine will rue the day she forced my hand. Not only did she make me suffer the indignity of having to utilize a bonding spell to keep my spirit attached to my body, she made me endure the agony of death itself!” he raged. I knew the voice immediately. King Ovid was back in business. “Do you have any idea how much resurrection hurts, Faustus? Do you have any idea?!”

  Faustus cleared his throat. “Is that not what you wanted, Your Majesty? Surely, even if Her Majesty had relented, you would still have had to suffer the agonies of resurrection?”

  “That is beside the point!” Ovid snapped. “I had to suffer thrice!”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” Faustus bowed his head.

  We should’ve put Davin in a box and dropped it into the ocean. Honestly, I was more surprised by this than I should’ve been. Ovid had never had any intention of dying, and he’d made that blatantly clear. We just hadn’t taken him seriously. He’d put on the charade of his Death Day and fooled us all. All the while, he’d had Faustus making plans for him to skirt around Kaya’s orders. That was why Ovid had been put into Faustus’s care. Sneaky devil. But what was Faustus getting out of this? He couldn’t be acting out of blind loyalty. Faustus wasn’t the type.

  “Apologies, Faustus.” Ovid stopped near the blindfolded statue. “I have not yet thanked you properly for ensuring this came to pass. It could not have been easy. I am grateful to you, and you will be duly rewarded, as promised. You will stand at my right hand once you have assisted me in taking the throne back from my wretched daughter.”

  Ah, so that’s what you’re getting out of it, you snake. Power. That didn’t surprise me at all. People had done far less in pursuit of that high.

  Faustus sounded like he was grinning beneath his hood. “It has been my honor, Your Majesty. And it will continue to be my honor, to help you return to your deserved greatness.” He paused. “However, there is the small matter of Her Majesty’s recent aversion toward me. I will require assistance to gain her counsel once more and get close to her.”

  “Leave that to me. I will find a way for you to get close enough, for I will have my throne back. If she thought she could rule after denying me prolonged life, then she will be sorely disappointed.” Ovid clenched his hands to fists. “And she has no one to blame but herself. All she had to do was agree, and I would have allowed her the crown. I could have made peace with that. Now, she will suffer as I have suffered.”

  We should leave, Huntress urged. We need to tell Kaya what happened here. She might not be in our good books right now, but this is… it’s dangerous. We need to warn her!
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  I nodded. Let’s go.

  However, as we turned to make our escape, my stomach sank. Four hooded guards blocked our route, spears poised. We’d been so focused on Ovid and Faustus that we hadn’t heard them sneak up behind us. And with no breeze to carry their scent, Huntress hadn’t smelled them. I knew I hated this fake atmosphere for a reason.

  Now, with guards in the square and guards ahead, we were well and truly trapped.

  Eleven

  Nash

  Huntress, run! I didn’t hesitate. Her safety meant more to me than my own. And she had a better chance of escaping than I did. The alley was narrow, but if she darted into the square behind us, she’d have a shot.

  She looked up at me. I won’t leave you.

  Go to Kaya. Go to the others. Try to get them to understand what happened here! There’s no time to argue! I urged.

  A whine shivered from the back of her throat. She gave me one last look before she bolted, her head low and her legs powering forward. She was streamlined for precision. I watched her race across the square, fangs bared in homage to her wolf ancestors. My chest clenched as she barreled past the hooded figures.

  “Catch that beast!” Ovid roared, flailing like a wild man.

  Huntress swerved around grabbing hands, her claws skittering on the slippery stone. One hooded minion almost caught her tail, but she was a hair faster. The guy fell face-first instead, kissing the dust. Meanwhile, the spear-wielding guards marched down the alley, blocking it completely. No way out, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Palms up, I conjured a blast of Air and threw it down the alleyway. Wedged together like sardines, the guards couldn’t escape it. Two held their ground, raising barriers. But the other two flew backward, though it didn’t take them long to jump up again. They might never have seen war, according to Apollo, but they had trained for it. Tough, through and through.

  “Seize that spy and his mutt!” Ovid snarled. It urged his minions into action. Magic glittered across the square, and with me facing the tumbling alley guards, an impact hit me in the back. A lasso tightened around my waist and dragged me to the ground. I knew the grip of Telekinesis when I felt it. I struggled to stand, only to get a blast of Air to the skull, disorienting me. Trying to recover as fast as I could, I grappled with the alley wall to my right to get back on my feet. If I stayed down, I left myself open to capture. And while it might’ve been inevitable, I wasn’t going to give them an easy time of it.