Harley Merlin 16: Finch Merlin and the Blood Tie Page 9

  My father’s motto, which he’d passed on to me, was: “The pen might be mightier than a blade, but I know which one I’d take to a fight.” After fumbling in my pocket for one of the knives I’d had Luke help me forge from Atlantean scrap metal, I slashed at the lasso around my belly. Melody had charmed it with transformative magic. The lasso fell away, and I leapt up.

  Huntress must have reached the far alley by now. They’d chase her, but she was quicker than they’d ever be. All she had to do was get to the palace before they did.

  Nash! Her yelp ricocheted through my head.

  I spun around as she edged back into the square, growling savagely. She backed up and snapped at the hands that wanted to catch her. They had the sense to yank their fingers back. Huntress would’ve bitten them clean off without a second thought.

  What are you doing? RUN! I yelled back.

  I can’t. They’ve got us surrounded.

  Four hooded guards, wielding weapons, marched out of the alley behind her. And two more emerged from the last possible escape route—the eastern alley. Now we really had no way out. Huntress was fast, but she couldn’t overcome the numbers Faustus had brought to protect the resurrected king.

  “Are you quite finished, or should we continue this rigmarole?” Ovid drew back his hood. “Either you can come quietly, or we shall have to make you obey by dealing with your hound.”

  I panted, my lungs on fire. “You lay a hand on her, and it’ll be the last thing you do. And there won’t be enough left for Davin to bring back this time.”

  Ovid snickered. “I admire your tenacity, but I urge you to watch your tongue.” He gestured to Huntress, who’d backed up against the statue of justice. She had her hackles raised, ready to savage the hand of anyone who touched her. “This does not have to become unpleasant. I do so hate to harm innocent creatures, but I will if you do not stand down and order your beast to heel.”

  I’d fought all my life, in one way or another. And it’d taught me a valuable lesson—knowing when I was in the middle of a lost cause. If I didn’t back off, they’d hurt Huntress, the one I cared about more than the entire world. Anything they did to her, I’d feel as if they were doing it to me. And vice versa. I hated throwing in the towel, but Huntress’s safety had to be my priority.

  “Will you at least let her come to me?” I asked. It took a lot of restraint not to spit the words at the selfish old king.

  Ovid nodded. “Yes. As long as you do not attempt any deceit.”

  I drew in deep gulps of air. I didn’t have the stamina I used to have. “Huntress, here.” We need to make it look like we’re obeying and hope we can find a way to alert Kaya, I added privately. After all, I had a feeling they didn’t know about the secret communication that passed between a Familiar and their magical.

  I can still try and run. There are only two in the eastern alley. If I’m quick, I might be able to get between their legs and away before they know what hit them. She flashed me a look as she slowly padded over, her tail drooping.

  I’m not going to risk them killing you, Huntress. We’ve seen it with our own eyes—Ovid will do anything to protect himself. If he’s willing to beg a favor from the person who tried to kill his daughter, he’d end you without a second thought. I wanted her by my side, where I could make sure she was safe.

  She lowered her head. Fine, but if we see a gap where I can get away, you have to let me take it.

  If the odds aren’t stacked against you, I will. As she reached me, I knelt and put my arms around her. We were in trouble, but burying my face in her fur always calmed me down.

  “I believe Cuffs are in order.” Ovid waved his hand, and the guards swept forward. A couple who’d had some near misses with Huntress’s jaws kept a respectful distance, but the others didn’t seem fazed. Drawing out the Cuffs I’d come to despise, they locked one around my neck and one around Huntress’s.

  I’d rather have that stupid bow, she muttered.

  Let’s just be grateful they haven’t got Cuffs for your legs. This way, at least you’ll be able to run when you need to. I sounded more confident than I felt. Honestly, I had no idea why they kept putting one on her. Maybe they thought she had magical abilities they hadn’t seen yet. But at least it didn’t block our telepathy. That went beyond normal magic. It was soul magic—the most powerful in existence. Rare and mysterious, it took so much effort that people rarely bothered with it anymore. You had to put serious work into creating a Familiar. And it’d been worth every day I’d slogged through it.

  “Now that we have you suitably restrained, tell me—why did you come here?” Ovid got right up in my face. He was lucky he didn’t get a smack in the mouth.

  “We were out walking,” I said simply. “I didn’t know we would come across you, if that’s what you’re getting at. Zombies aren’t really my thing. I leave that stuff to the younger generation.”

  Ovid sneered. “I am not merely undead. As you can see, I have all my faculties intact.”

  “That’s what you think.” I remembered something Melody had told me. “Don’t you know you don’t come back whole when you get resurrected? It steals away a bit of who you were. That’s the price you pay for going against nature.”

  He flinched, and a couple of his guards looked worried. “Nonsense. I feel entirely like myself.”

  “You just wait. You’ll see.” I held my nerve. “Who knows, once upon a time, Davin might’ve been a decent human being. I doubt it, but stranger things have happened. Either way, coming back so many times has nibbled away at his mind. And it hurts, doesn’t it? I bet there’s an emptiness inside you that you can’t quite put your finger on, right? You were dead for a good few days before you came back. I bet that made the old soul a bit threadbare before Davin shoved it back into your body.”

  “Enough!” Ovid barked. “I feel as strong and stable as ever. I have suffered no ill effects, as I utilized the suggestions that Davin gave to me prior to taking the death serum. I bound my soul to my body so that no such fraying could occur.”

  I glared at him. “Well, didn’t you come to the party prepared? I’m guessing you don’t even feel bad about asking your daughter’s would-be assassin for help. Survival is what counts, right?”

  “Need I remind you that you are the captive here. You will not speak again with such a discourteous tongue, or I will see it removed.” Ovid bristled. I’d gotten to him. “And your hound will suffer if you continue.”

  I held that discourteous tongue. Mostly. “So what’s the plan here, Your Majesty? What are you going to do with me now you’ve got me? You don’t think people will notice if I just don’t come back to the palace?”

  “From what Faustus has told me, you are not my daughter’s favorite person at present. Aside from Finch, all you surface dwellers have fallen from her favor. If you do not return, she will merely believe that you attempted to flee. Yes, she might send guards to look for you, but she has far more to worry about than a wayward guest.” An odd look glinted in his eyes—a flicker of satisfaction and dark intent.

  “Like what?” I figured I might as well ask.

  He tapped the side of his nose. “That is for me to know. Actually, it is rather fortuitous that you happened to stumble upon us here, for you have saved me the trouble of extricating you from the palace.”

  “I don’t follow.” Huntress brushed against my leg.

  This isn’t good. I can sense his heart racing—he’s excited about something, she said.

  “Davin has been more than just helpful in ensuring my continued existence. He has also told me what you are.” Ovid smiled sourly. “A Sanguine of great merit, if I am not mistaken. One that Davin himself tried to hunt for many a year, no?”

  I couldn’t bite back my searing reply. “Let me guess, you’re about to take a leaf out of his book?” Being a Sanguine had always been more curse than gift. If I could’ve had any other ability, I’d have taken it.

  “He suggested it; however, as an Atlantean, I do not fin
d the idea of hunting anyone palatable. Fortunately, I did not need to. I have simply captured you somewhere you should not have been. My conscience is clear.” He grinned smugly.

  A worm of epic proportions. Huntress grumbled at my side.

  “Davin has mentioned that you might be of use to him, so we shall keep you prisoner and utilize your gifts as we see fit,” Ovid continued. “Guards, if you would do the honors.”

  “Honors?” I backed up, getting serious déjà vu.

  The guards grabbed me and forced my arms behind my back. One booted me in the backs of my knees, and I crashed to the ground. Huntress prepared to launch herself at the guards, but after a sharp look at her, she didn’t follow through. There was no point in her getting hurt because they wanted my blood. They’d take it anyway, no matter what she did.

  They can’t do this to you, she said.

  There’s a difference between can’t and shouldn’t. And they don’t understand either. I stayed still as they pulled out their tools: syringes and needles. Vials on standby. A Sanguine hunter’s toolbox to a T. They could say what they liked about not hunting me, but the facts spoke for themselves. The only difference was, they weren’t draining every drop from my dead body.

  I didn’t even flinch as the needle went in. They filled vial after vial, racking up about twelve before they stopped. I just stared into Ovid’s eyes. I wanted to unnerve the snake. And it seemed to have worked. After a couple of seconds, he’d looked away. Apparently, the statue of justice had something very interesting on her face that was more engaging than me. Ovid was the worst kind of coward—the kind that couldn’t even look his victim in the eyes. “What did Her Majesty do to piss in your cornflakes, huh?” I fixed my attention on Faustus. “I thought you and she were best pals. Or did I get it wrong?”

  Faustus paled. Another coward. “She does not see the national potential that our king sees. She refuses to understand the benefit of Necromancy and the hope that resurrection could bring to our city. If we rise, we will need Davin. And we may need your blood to facilitate these endeavors.”

  “Rise?” That got my attention.

  “Yes, rise.” Faustus fumbled with the edge of his cloak. “We cannot remain submerged, due to our expansion. The Bestiary has forced our hand in that matter. We must return to the surface, but that will come at a price. Davin’s resurrection abilities and your blood will give our people the faith they need, that they will not suffer because of this transition. They will remain great, and they will not have to relinquish their longevity for the sake of it. It will also allow us the power we require to show the surface world that we are superior in all ways, so they will bend to our will.”

  I told you this was bad. Huntress cut into my thoughts.

  All the weight that had threatened to crush my heavy shoulders slammed down at once. Now I got the whole picture. I already understood Kaya’s plans for Atlantis. She wanted to bring it to the surface—we knew that. That was why she was doing all this cloak-and-dagger stuff about some big spell. But the stuff about bending people to their will—that hit me hardest, sickening me to my core. Especially if Kaya was planning the same thing Faustus was talking about. This wasn’t just us getting tossed from the frying pan into a fire. This was us getting hurled into a furnace of mayhem and unrest. A war to end all wars. I could already see the carnage, with magicals and non-magicals alike getting dragged into the crossfire.

  They’re going to destroy the world as we know it. I struggled to contain my fury.

  Calm down, Nash. You need to calm down. Huntress bumped her forehead against my leg.

  I sank down and held her, not caring about the blood streaking down my arm. It mingled with her white fur, tingeing it with pink. She pushed her nose into my shoulder—the closest thing to a hug she was capable of.

  I’m not angry… I’m just tired. It wasn’t the whole truth, but anger and blood loss quickly gave way to exhaustion. Since day one, my abilities had been nothing but trouble. Always part of someone’s bigger plan. If I hadn’t been a Sanguine, I’d never have met Finch, and I wouldn’t have ended up in Atlantis, with this dread growing in the pit of my stomach.

  Hang in there. Huntress nuzzled me.

  I’m sick of being someone’s ingredient. I’m sick of people taking my blood for spells that put people in danger. I thought of Melody, Luke, and Ryann. They’d all been dragged down here, too, because of what my blood had done. Even Finch, to a lesser extent. He was a slave to Erebus, same as I was a slave to the liquid in my veins. And being used like this got old fast. It was why I’d poisoned my blood: to stop this. Then Finch had come along and reversed it, and now I was back at square one, dealing with the same BS as before.

  Then we have all the more reason to get to Kaya and stop Faustus and Ovid from doing this, Huntress urged.

  And what if she’s just as bad? She’s the one wanting to raise Atlantis. You don’t think she’s got any ideas about what she’s going to do after she’s raised it? She’s not an idiot. She must know that the magical world will throw a fit if Atlantis suddenly appears out of nowhere, with a race of super-powerful magicals inside it. And she’s not going to risk her people getting hurt. She’ll make the first move, to preempt any kind of attack. I knew tactics like the back of my hand. And I knew magical society. They didn’t like being made to feel small, and the Atlanteans would make them feel tiny and insignificant. If that wasn’t a catalyst for all-out warfare, I didn’t know what was.

  “We should go to the safehouse, Your Majesty.” Faustus turned to Ovid. “We cannot risk you being identified.”

  “I quite agree. We have already lingered too long. Guards, ensure the area is secure.” Ovid put his hood back on and pointed to the spear-wielders. “The rest of you, follow me. Bring the prisoners.” Two minions pushed me forward while another walked behind Huntress. Putting one foot in front of the other, our group followed Ovid as he started off down the eastern alley. To where, I had no clue.

  Walking through the shadowed, empty network of backstreets, Faustus and Ovid struck up a conversation. They apparently didn’t think I was a threat. Either that or they wanted me to hear, an intimidation tactic that wouldn’t work. It’d only give me and Huntress intel for when she made a break for it.

  “We must be careful how we act, Your Majesty. The populace holds a great deal of love and loyalty for your daughter. In addition, we cannot be certain that they will respond favorably to your reemergence,” Faustus warned.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Ovid fired back. “I will not cower from her. Nor have I come back to life only to retreat into the shadows. I might have yearned for freedom, and for a different manner of life, but I will not allow her to get away with her refusal to allow my resurrection. She does not have Verity to protect her now. Her dominance no longer perturbs me.”

  You should’ve stayed in the shadows, you viper. I glared at the back of his head and hoped he could feel the burn.

  Faustus lowered his head. “May I suggest a coup in two parts? The first will grant you the role of puppet master. If you can surprise your daughter and render her incapacitated and devoid of loyal protection, then you can begin your reclamation of the throne. With threat or manipulation, you can even make her explain to your subjects that she allowed the resurrection, so no blame will be laid at your door.”

  “Interesting.” Ovid nodded along. “Continue…”

  “Using her voice, you would be able to grant Davin a position in the government—Royal Necromancer, or some such title, as was promised. The people would accept this change with open hearts if your daughter showed them that the same could be done for them, that they could live on and never fear death again.” Faustus’s voice grated on me. “After which, you could reclaim the throne, making it seem as though she willingly returned it to your rightful hands.”

  “And you’d do all this for something as temporary as power, Faustus? Come on, there has to be something else.” I couldn’t stay quiet. “Does the word ‘treason’
mean anything to you?”

  Faustus glanced back at me with narrowed eyes. “It is not treason if I am working for the king.”

  “Semantics,” I replied with a shrug. “And, forgive me for sounding like a broken record, but you seem pretty quick to forgive the person who tried to murder your daughter, Your Majesty. Don’t you feel guilty about it at all?”

  Ovid laughed bitterly. “Until you face death, I would not expect you to understand.”

  “I’ve stared down death more times than you’ve had breakfast,” I retorted. “And I poisoned my own blood, even knowing it would shorten my lifespan. I never once balked at the idea of dying. And I wouldn’t have betrayed family or friends to change my fate.”

  “Then congratulations, you are a better man than I.” Ovid’s words dripped sarcasm. “As for what else Faustus will gain from his assistance—is it not obvious?”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “She’s married now. I’m guessing that still means something.”

  “Marriages can be annulled.” Ovid came to a halt at a crossroads. Another statue of Ganymede stared down at us. I wondered what she’d have made of this mess if she’d been alive to see it. She’d probably have wished that she never made this bubble in the first place. “And Faustus is a far worthier candidate than a surface dweller who, as far as I am concerned, has no business in Atlantis.”

  I snorted. “You’ve changed your tune. I thought you were all for this legend of the Luminary stuff?”

  “It is nothing but a story.” Ovid looked up at the statue of Ganymede. “Besides, Atlantis can still rise without the need for the hero who was promised. The hero’s arrival was simply a portent that the time had come for us to rise. It is a matter of magic, not of myth.”