Harley Merlin 8: Harley Merlin and the Challenge of Chaos Page 9

  Louella was one. Her Telepathy seemed to be coming back, and that was a major wrench in the works. I’d had Kenneth clamp down on that to avoid issues with my Imogene performance, but he obviously hadn’t done a good enough job of destroying it completely. Useless, cloying little worm. Killing him had been a glorious moment. I’d been waiting for so long to shut him up. His very presence had always left me feeling dirty, like I needed twenty showers just to wash off the stink of his desperation.

  I couldn’t tamper with Louella again without someone catching on, and I needed to be careful not to out my true identity, so close to the end. I needed to keep my distance from her, if only for a short while.

  A knock at the office door made me slip the phone back in the pocket of yet another cream suit. “Come in,” I said.

  Alton peered around. Speaking of cloying little worms. He was taking the job of unofficial assistant to the director way too seriously. I could barely go a couple of hours without him popping up like an incessant jack-in-the-box.

  And to think I’d kissed him once at a Christmas party. See, that is what happens when you allow yourself to have a drink or two. Those bubbles had gone right to my head, and my head had made a beeline for Alton, who was all weepy after breaking up with his ex for the millionth time. Prime smooching territory, no strings attached. Still, it was an awkward encounter that he and I—or, rather, Imogene—hadn’t discussed since. But it had set tongues wagging for a while. Ironic, since it had been his tongue wagging at the time. He’d have died if he found out it was me doing the smooching. I supposed I could keep that on the back burner, if I ever needed a quick way to get rid of Alton. Remind him of that encounter, tell him it was me the whole time, and watch his mind explode.

  “Alton, what an unexpected pleasure.” I put on a sweet smile and sank back into the well-worn character of Imogene. It was second nature to me now, after so many years in her skin.

  “Are you busy?”

  Seriously? Am I busy? Understatement of the century. “I am a little, yes, but I have some time for you if it’s urgent.”

  “I was hoping to have a word with you about Harley.”

  Ooh, this just got a little more interesting. “Of course. Please, sit.” I sank down in the big armchair behind the desk and gestured for him to sit opposite. He did, dwarfed by the enormous seat. He looked like a little kid who’d just been allowed his first big-boy chair. I fought not to laugh.

  “Has something happened?” I prompted. “Is she doing well? I realize that’s unlikely, given the circumstances, but I hope she’ll recover, in time.”

  “That’s part of the problem. I suppose I expected her to be wandering around like a zombie after the news hit, but she’s starting to scare me slightly.”

  Scare you? Stoic, hard-as-nails Alton Waterhouse? Pathetic. “How so? Is it something I should be concerned about? Do you need me to speak with her?”

  He shook his head. “I wanted to talk with you first, to see what you thought. She seems to have skipped grief completely and has gone straight toward self-destruction.”

  “That’s very troubling. In what respect has she gone toward self-destruction? Has she tried to harm herself?” There was no way I was letting Harley off herself before I’d squeezed everything I could out of her and could finally end her myself.

  “No, not directly.” He sighed uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure whether to continue.

  “You can tell me anything, Alton. No matter how concerning it might be. I’m here to help Harley, to look out for her best interests. If she’s in some sort of danger, then I must know, so I may help, however I can.” Don’t you clam up on me now.

  He nodded slowly. “It’s this Hidden Things spell.”

  “Ah, she must be disappointed that it can’t be done. I imagine that isn’t helping her current state of mind.”

  “Actually, it’s the opposite.” That took me by surprise, and that didn’t happen often.

  “Oh?”

  “She asked me to help her resurrect her parents so she can get the spell completed. I should’ve just told her it was impossible, but, when the moment came, I couldn’t lie to her. She made a lot of good points about the dire straits we’re in with Katherine.” He looked at me reluctantly. “I don’t know how much you know about Necromancy, but there are theories as to how something like that can be done. I’m worried it might end in catastrophe, but I couldn’t say no to her.”

  “I see…”

  “We’ve got to be bold, I know that, but her determination is frightening. It’s like she’s lost her moral compass. When I tried to tell her it wasn’t a good idea, and that she needed to think about what she was actually asking, she exploded. Literally. Her Telekinesis went haywire, and she ended up flinging books and shattering all the glass in my office. I’m worried she’s losing it, Imogene.”

  Well, well, well… This was tantalizing and concerning in equal measure. If what Alton was saying could really be done, then they had a way of revealing the hidden pages. The sneaky wretches had found a secret trapdoor in that dead-end street, one that might bring dear Sis and her backstabber husband back to life.

  Once Harley had access to those pages, she’d become the perfect weapon against me. But I needed to use Harley. Catch-22 didn’t even cover it. Harley’s body had the Primus Anglicus juice that would create the ideal vessel to hold my future Eris self, allowing me to walk free between worlds. I could’ve used Finch, I supposed, but that was a major plan B. Getting stuck in my son’s body wasn’t exactly the vision I’d created in my head, even with a few Shapeshifting alterations. It would still be Finch’s body, and that left a sour taste in my mouth. No, that was too close for comfort, in the familial sense. I’d given birth to the sucker—I didn’t want to have to deal with being stuck inside his body, in any way, shape, or form.

  Not that it matters. By the time Harley figured out the right spell from the Grimoire to use against me, I’d already be a Child of Chaos, practically unbeatable. And ready to use her for my needs. It was too little, too late. So close, Merlins, and yet so far. The only way to kill me then would be if Harley herself ploughed through those irksome rituals, and regardless of what Alton said about her lack of moral compass, I doubted she’d be willing to do what I’d done. She didn’t have the ovaries for it.

  “That’s very worrying, Alton. Even without the extreme illegality of the matter, there are so many risks to consider,” I said, playing the concerned confidant. “Such an act would have terrible consequences for the living world, wouldn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “It’s never been done, so I don’t know. But it’s weighing on my mind.”

  “As it should.” I paused. “You must be fairly confident in your ability to achieve it… Otherwise, you would have told Harley that it was impossible. I confess, I’ve never heard of such a thing being done before.”

  “The theories are sound. They align with the nature of Necromancy. It’s just a way bigger ask than anything any Necromancer has done before. And I don’t know if I can do it—both strength-wise and morality-wise.” He shook his head. “I made a promise to Harley, but I feel sick to my stomach whenever I think about it. I almost didn’t come to you, because I know you’d have every reason to send me to Purgatory for even mentioning it, but I had to speak to someone who understands what’s at stake. I needed a fresh perspective, either to encourage me, or to tell me to nip this in the bud.”

  “If you’re concerned about a prison sentence, then you don’t need to fear that from me. I would certainly choose to turn a blind eye if you decided to proceed. If the situation weren’t desperate, my reply would be different, but you’re a logical man—if you didn’t think this was necessary, you wouldn’t have entertained the idea.” I hated the flowery way I had to speak as Imogene, but that was part of her nature.

  “So, you approve?”

  I smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say that I approve, and I cannot authorize this in an official capacity, since that would be aiding and ab
etting an illegal spell, but I’ll look away if you wish to go ahead with it.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Did you want me to give you a different answer? I can, if you think that’s the right path.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I just never expected you to agree with something like this. You’re known for your righteousness. And this isn’t exactly righteous.”

  “Ordinarily, I would’ve protested with every ounce of oxygen in my lungs, but these are very special circumstances. It’s past time for the covens to play somewhat dirty, or we’ll all go down in flames.” I met his gaze. “Don’t misunderstand me—I don’t approve of the nature of this, but if it must be done for the greater good, then who am I to stop it? It’s not as though I have any less dangerous answers to our problem.”

  He sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Then I guess we have to do this. If you think it’s our only option, then I’m inclined to agree. I suppose I just wanted someone to dispel my doubts, and you’ve done that, more or less.”

  “You still have some?”

  “I’ve still got doubts about my ability to actually do it, yes,” he replied. Alton had always put on a big show of being heroic and brave, but I knew better. He’d buckled immediately when I’d threatened his daughter. Another reason why he’d never deserved the job here in the first place. To be a leader, there had to be no weaknesses in someone’s character. It didn’t make someone more human, it just made them vulnerable, and there was no place for vulnerability in a position of power.

  “You are powerful, Alton.” Ugh, that stuck in my throat. “You likely have more potential than you realize. There’s no precedent for this, but you’re a capable Necromancer. I won’t stop you, as I’ve said, but I worry that you may be the one stopping yourself.”

  “I needed a pep talk.” He chuckled weakly. Everything he did was weak. He didn’t deserve to have the skill of a Necromancer. Once I ascended, I’d see to it that he ended up completely powerless.

  “So you’ll go through with it?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes… but I’ll still need another Necromancer to get the job done. This isn’t a one-man task.”

  “A second Necromancer?”

  “I can cope with resurrecting one of Harley’s parents, at a push, but two? I think it’d kill me.”

  I smiled, an idea forming. “Then you had better get started on those calls. There aren’t too many of you left in existence.”

  “Well, there are definitely two I won’t be able to get hold of. Micah is missing, and Harley told me that Katherine had murdered another Necromancer, after he botched some spell. I don’t know the details of it, but she said it was pretty horrific. So, that leaves three.”

  My eyes threatened to narrow, but I kept them bright and open. So, Harley had found her way into my beach house, had she? She’d evidently seen my grandfather, given what Alton was saying. Silly cow. It was a grave disappointment that she’d been amongst my cult and I hadn’t seen through her disguise. I’d actually been amused by Volla Mazinov. That was the type of person I wanted around, but I couldn’t say the same about the Merlin twerp. I didn’t know if I was more appalled that she’d actually had the audacity to sneak into my precious cult, or that she’d had the gall to look upon my beloved grandfather. But it was just fuel for the fire, baby.

  “Then time is of the essence,” I said. When isn’t it?

  Alton nodded. “Thank you for speaking to me, Imogene. You’ve put some worries to rest, though I’d urge you to keep an eye on Harley, whenever you can. She needs good people around her, to stop her from destroying herself.”

  Oh, Alton. I’m touched. He thought I was a good person. The poor dear had no idea who he was talking to. It would have been the greatest pleasure in the world to be in the front row at Harley’s destruction, and I still planned to be there, with my popcorn, when it happened.

  “I will,” I lied.

  Alton got up and left, leaving me to absorb everything I’d just heard like the beautiful, powerful sponge that I was. The idea I’d been having was starting to expand, just the way I liked. Alton had given me more than a heads-up; he’d given me a way to control Harley’s fight, going forward. And he’d done it without even realizing, which made it all the sweeter.

  I knew one of the three remaining Necromancers. It didn’t exactly fill me with joy to have to reach out to him, but it was high time he chose his allegiance. He’d been sitting on the fence so long he had splinters in his butt cheeks. He’d helped me on a mission in London, but he’d yet to actually join the cult. I suspected he’d only refused in order to tease me, to make me want him even more. To make me want him to join, I mean. A “treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen” type of scenario. When I’d tried to convince him, he’d told me he didn’t like to commit to anything.

  Typical man.

  Back then, I hadn’t pushed it. But now, I would have to insist.

  Ten

  Harley

  Under the cold, clinical lights of the infirmary, I sat at Jacob’s bedside. Louella sat in the chair opposite, trying to keep her eyes open, one hand constantly fixed on the side of Jacob’s head. She looked worn out, the poor thing, her whole face splotchy with tears—tears of grief, tears of loss, tears of frustration. She’d taken it upon herself to fix Jacob, and I got the feeling she wouldn’t quit until he woke up.

  “You should take a break,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.” I didn’t push it. She and I were in similar boats, and I knew how I felt about people trying to get me to rest up and take things easier.

  “Is anything coming through, or is it still jumbled up in there?”

  “It’s still a mess. A total mess.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “It doesn’t make any sense. My Telepathy is getting stronger by the hour, but it’s not making any difference. I can’t get a single, clear thought. Just a bunch of gibberish thrown together.”

  “He knows you’re here. He knows you’re trying.”

  “I thought he might, but now I’m not so sure.” She turned her face away from me, but I saw the tear as it dropped.

  Leaving her to her private sorrow, in case it embarrassed her, I focused on Jacob. He looked peaceful, his head nestled in the pillow, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. I was glad that he hadn’t ended up on a slab in the Crypt like Isadora and Suri. If Jacob had been there, too, dead and cold, I didn’t know if I’d have had the strength to go on. Death was always terrible and sad, no matter what the circumstances, but it always seemed worse when it came for the young. It was like nipping a flower from its stalk before it had even had the chance to bloom.

  Guilt gripped my stomach as I took Jacob’s hand and held it tight. I couldn’t help but feel responsible for what had happened, not only to Jacob, but to Isadora. If I’d just left them in hiding, at that house in the middle of nowhere. If I’d just let them travel down their own path, just the two of them, like Isadora had asked me to… but we’d never have gotten this close to ending Katherine if I had.

  Everything comes at a price. That’s what Marie Laveau and Papa Legba had shoved down my throat, and they were right. Everything had a cost, and I was still trying to figure out if edging toward Katherine was worth this. Anger flickered in my chest, my thoughts bristling with hatred toward that evil woman. It only strengthened my resolve to work alone from now on, to avoid ever having to see any more of my friends in a hospital bed or on a slab. That was a price I wasn’t willing to pay, no matter what I’d said to the Chains of Truth.

  “Tell me you’re not serious.” Louella’s voice broke me out of my reverie.

  “What?”

  “None of this is your fault, Harley. The last thing you should do is go through this alone.”

  I froze. “You heard that?”

  “I didn’t mean to. Your voice just came into my head.” She looked away shyly. “You must have been pouring your thoughts out without realizing. It ca
n happen. I wasn’t prying, I swear.”

  I didn’t reply. Instead, I thought about everything I stood to lose, and all of the people we’d already lost—Quetzi, Isadora, Jacintha Parks, Suri, Shinsuke, Tess, Echidna… The body count was racking up, and it was only going to get worse if I allowed my friends to help me. I pictured them, scattered and broken, remembering that vague image of a bright landscape with the sounds of pain and suffering all around me. I filled in the blanks, for Louella’s benefit. I put my friends, including her, in that landscape, so she could see the enormity of what might lay ahead. I envisioned Astrid, dead beside the altar in the Asphodel Meadows, with blood running down her cracked head. I let the memories of Alton’s desperation flow through me, and how he’d battled to bring her back to life.

  Finally, I pictured Katherine, back in Tartarus, when she’d promised to bring me to my knees by destroying everyone I held dear.

  Louella lowered her gaze. “Oh.”

  “Do you see?”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  “Can you understand?” My voice was strained with emotion.

  “When you paint it like that… yeah, I suppose I can.” She looked back up. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do this on your own, though. Everyone knows what’s at stake. We know what we might have to sacrifice, when the last fight comes.”

  “Nothing. That’s what you’ll have to sacrifice. Nothing.” I smiled sadly. “That’s why I have to do this alone, so that nobody else dies, and nobody else winds up like Jacob. You don’t have to worry about me. I know what I’m doing, and I know why I’m doing it. So, please, understand… and, please, don’t tell anyone what you’ve heard.”