Chaos Broken (25 page)

Feeling the weight of this debt, I pricked a finger and bled a single drop onto the cloth, then handed it back to her. The nymph snatched it, chuckling.

‘What a collection. Yes, yes. The best anyone has ever seen.'

‘I've upheld my end of the bargain,' I said, now impatient. ‘Now tell me where he is.'

The nymph paused from rolling up her bag to point down the tunnel. ‘Keep going. Turn left. Everyone else missed it, because the entrance has been hidden by an enchantment.' She hoisted the bag over her small, rounded shoulder. ‘Enchantment's gone, because the caster is gone as well.'

‘The caster was a kid with yellow eyes?' I asked. ‘With an old sword?'

‘Maybe.'

‘Do you know what he's trying to do?'

The nymph shrank back into the shadows. ‘Terrible magic that rots from within. He will be dead soon enough.'

‘That's good news,' I mused.

‘And he will take many more lives before he's done.'

I sighed. ‘That's not good news.'

She settled back into her pile of rags and I hesitated, realising that this nymph might have the answers to the burning questions I had about who I was. Why had I been born? Had it really just been on the whim of a vain, power-hungry angel? What did being a female nephilim mean?

‘I can hear your questions from here.' The nymph's voice was muffled. ‘And I'll not be answering them. If you want answers, you ask Orella them. Just leave me be now.'

Knowing I didn't have the heart to force the answers out of her, I turned and headed down the tunnel, my ball of light following me. When I came to a junction, I turned left and after a few more sharp turns, stumbled to a halt. A wide area was littered with bodies, chests covered in blood.

Approaching with caution, I counted six bodies in total, each one positioned inside one of Kalin's odd number circles, scribed meticulously in chalk. Walking around, I looked for anything that would tip me off as to what Kalin was up to. Anti-Grigori slogans were painted on the walls, along with a few choice words about the City Watch and their respective mothers. Scribbled overtop of this were slogans in bright paint, all about the coming resurrection.

I saw a cup and bowl at my feet, and realised I'd stopped at a centre point of the circles. Leaning on my cane, I crouched down to pick up the cup. A sickly sweet smell met my nose, a smell I could place anywhere. Apertor Elixir. I ran a finger inside the bowl, then touched the tip of my tongue. Tasting salt, I frowned, not recognising what kind of spell required this kind of sacrifice and materials. Whatever Kalin was up to, if he wasn't captured soon, he might be too powerful to stop. The memory of him pulling my dagger from his chest flashed bright in my mind and I wondered if we had already reached that point.

It took me a little longer to backtrack. By the time I got out into the streets again, rain was falling. I pulled my hood up with a sense of relief. I was pretty sure I didn't smell so good after traversing through the sewers, and hoped the rain would wash the worst of it off.

I trudged towards home, boots sloshing through puddles and mud, and tried not to dwell on how the rain might have saved Andela's life if it had come earlier.

After sending an anonymous message to alert the local City Watch about the bodies, I took a long, scented bath. My skin was well and truly wrinkled by the time I stepped out and towelled myself dry. I'd washed my hair as well and sprayed the wet strands with scented oils. Wrapping myself in a warm cotton dressing gown, I padded into my bedroom. The house was quiet, save for the rain outside, which now fell in a steady patter.

I debated lighting the fire downstairs to try and warm the house, but decided the comfort of my bed would be the next best thing. I was just pulling back the covers when there was a sharp rap at my front door. A visit at this time of night was not usually a good thing and I hurried down the stairs, grabbing my cane beside the doorframe. Double-checking the protective runes carved around the lintel, I unlocked the door. In my head, it had been a toss-up between Kalin appearing with his rusty sword to finish me off, or Crowhurst wanting to shout some more.

‘Lora.' Roman's face peered at me from under a hood heavy with rain. A man slumped next to him, Roman's arms holding him up. ‘Casper's hurt.'

‘I invite you in.' I quickly disarmed the runes. Ushering them both into the living room, I switched on a lamp. The room flooded with a soft yellow light as Roman eased Casper down on the couch. I instructed Roman to light the fireplace and I knelt in front of Casper and pushed the hood off his face. I could see he was in pain.

‘It isn't that bad,' he gasped, one bloodstained hand pressed against his side.

‘Sorry about coming here,' Roman said over his shoulder. ‘But we didn't think we'd make it get back to the theatre without getting caught.'

‘We were fucking ambushed,' Casper said through clenched teeth.

Prying Casper's hand away, I eased aside his clothing and saw a bolt in his side, the end snapped off.

I hurried into the kitchen and put the kettle on to boil, then grabbed my work-belt from the bench, a bottle of gin and some warm blankets. Soon enough I was kneeling in front of Casper again, peering at the bolt. With Roman's help, he'd removed his shirt and was laid out on the couch, feet propped up on one end.

I passed him the bottle of gin. ‘Who did this?'

‘Thesma Regulators.' Roman sounded disgusted. ‘We were supposed to be meeting some nephilim from the Order, but we were ambushed.'

As I checked around Casper's wound, I tried to squish the worm of worry at this development. If the Thesma Regulators were closing in on Roman, then there'd be no time for any peace deal with the Grigori of Harken, not that I was sure such a thing was even possible. I didn't even want to think about this new supposed ‘law' the Council had reinstated. Whatever power the Council had granted Laeonder, I had to guess it was done somewhat against their will. Surely the Council didn't want to see Harken's citizens burn.

‘I'm going to pull the bolt out,' I told Casper.

‘Need help?' Roman asked.

‘I'm good,' I told him, then turned back to Casper. ‘On the count of three.'

‘Right.' Casper tensed.

‘One,' I said, then yanked. I slapped my free hand over his mouth to muffle his yelp of pain, then took it away and passed him the gin bottle.

‘Probably you should have had more of that before I pulled,' I told him.

‘Probably.' Casper's voice was thin. He took a long drink. ‘But thanks anyway.'

‘Were there others with you?' I asked. There was a tiny amount of Bishop's Balm in my work-belt and, after cleaning Casper's wound, I set about smearing the pearl-coloured ointment around the edge of the torn flesh. Within seconds, Casper's shoulders relaxed a little and his breathing became more regular.

Roman said something, but he had his back to me, staring into the fire, and I didn't catch it.

‘What?' I turned to look at him.

‘He said, they killed everyone,' Casper told me between sips of gin. ‘Three good nephilim brothers who were with us.'

‘Everyone?'

‘It was a slaughter.' Roman turned from the fire. ‘They were waiting for us.'

‘I
told
you we can't trust anyone,' Casper said.

‘Where did this happen?' I asked.

Roman saw my stricken look and shook his head. ‘We weren't anywhere near the theatre. It hasn't been compromised.'

‘Of course, that doesn't mean they don't know anything about it,' Casper muttered.

‘We need to warn Nicola,' I said.

‘She knows,' Roman said. ‘I already sent a message.'

‘What about Gorath?' I pinched the bridge of my nose, thinking hard. ‘He's on the High Grigori's shit list as well.'

‘I spoke to Manika earlier today,' Casper said. ‘She said they were leaving tonight, to return to the Outlands. Apparently, something had upset Gorath.'

‘At least that's something.' I got to my feet, a sneaky suspicion telling me my confrontation with Gorath over his treatment of Sariel was at the root of it.

Roman's face turned, considering. ‘Do you trust Gorath now?' he asked.

I hesitated before answering. What I'd seen in my dreamscape, in that horrible little house, had been very personal. I knew Gorath would want me to keep my silence about it, even though it made me worry for his state of mind. Whether he was my half-brother or not, I probably could do with all the family and friends I could get.

‘I trust him not to betray us on this,' I said cautiously. From what I'd seen, Gorath walked a fine line between sanity and madness. I didn't want to push him closer to it by voicing my worries to Roman. Their truce felt tenuous enough.

‘Gorath didn't give us up.' Casper's deep voice was slow.

‘I don't think he did either,' Roman said. ‘Gorath believes in what we're trying to achieve here, though he might not agree with my methods.'

I spied blood on Roman's hands and ordered him to go upstairs to clean up. When he'd gone, I laid a blanket over Casper, then tended to the fire.

‘Things are going to go badly.' Casper's words slurred. ‘We all believe in Roman, but I'm not sure what he wants is possible.'

I turned from the fire. ‘What do you believe now?'

‘That he needs you.' Casper's eyes fluttered close. ‘He needs you and the Wizard on his side. He can't do it alone.'

I watched as his face relaxed into sleep, then eased the bottle of gin from his grasp. What Casper didn't realise was that Seth and I no longer had a strong bond of friendship and he wasn't coming to anyone's aid, except his own. After all, he'd even left his son out to dry.

When Roman stepped back into the room, I motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen. Turning on the light, I put away the gin and washed my hands, then sat down at the table. Roman leaned against the bench, big arms folded. He'd taken off his cloak and his wings shifted, stretching out a little before settling behind him.

‘What's your plan?' I asked.

‘I'm not sure.'

I narrowed my eyes. ‘You aren't cooking up some crazy idea to solve this?'

The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Aren't crazy ideas your area of expertise? I think I prefer a good strategic approach.'

‘At least my crazy ideas always work,' I huffed.

The rest of the tension in his face drained away as he smiled. ‘They work because no one sees it coming, right?'

‘That's right.' I leaned back in my chair. ‘You're going to have to return to the Outlands. It's the one place the Grigori won't follow you.'

‘You think I should run?'

‘You could call it a
strategic
retreat, if it made you feel better.' I held up my hand, to count off his very limited choices. ‘You could retreat to fight another day. Or you could put out a war cry and involve the nephilim of Harken in a bloody civil war.' I wiggled that finger about. ‘But of course, that option would lead this city into anarchy, wouldn't it?'

‘Sometimes things are too broken to go on, Lora,' Roman said. ‘And they have to be destroyed before you can rebuild them.'

My hand dropped, along with my jaw. ‘You can't be serious.'

‘Don't you see, Lora?' Roman said. ‘The High Grigori has thrown the gauntlet down. He wants to rule this city with an iron fist. Things will never be the way they were.'

He crossed the kitchen and knelt in front of me. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed. ‘The Grigori will rule this city, unless the people break their hold of power. Everyone will be in danger. Everyone. Not just those like the darkwitch they burned in the town square today, but anyone who has ever dabbled. Then it will be anyone who's otherkin. Then anyone who doesn't follow their faith.'

‘Roman,' I said softly, wanting to voice some sort of protest. But I knew he spoke the truth, because it echoed my own fear. As a little girl, I knew the Grigori were to be greatly feared, as were the bloodthirsty Regulators who served them. As I got to know people like Fowler and Roman, I had learned that while they still believed passionately in their cause and I didn't agree with their belief system, they weren't completely evil and there was no black and white in life.

I tried to think of what Gideon would do. I had a responsibility to those under my charge, and by aligning myself with Roman I would be endangering their lives. But if I just stood aside and did nothing? The image of Andela burning scorched through my mind, but this time I imagined it was Orella there, crying out as the fire burned her flesh.

‘Is there a plan?' I asked.

Roman's hands stroked my legs, his touch heavy and warm. ‘The violence the High Grigori threatens this city with demands immediate action. My men will come, along with those who followed Gorath, and with Seth's help, we will drive them from this city.' He stared down at his hands as they moved to my waist, holding me. ‘We will show all Grigori that they can no longer imprison us and treat us like slaves.' The words were torn raw from his throat and at that moment, my heart wept for him. For the pain he had suffered in the past and the pain that was to come. I leaned forward, cupping his face and staring into the deep abyss of his dark eyes.

‘I will always stand with you,' I told him, then leaned forward to brush my lips against his. Roman's breath hitched and I reached up to curl my hands around his powerful neck. I kissed him again, this time my tongue gently parting his lips. Roman's hands tightened around my waist as he opened his mouth and the kiss deepened, our bodies locking together.

After a few moments he broke away from me, breathless. His gaze was heavy and searching, as if I was something incredible, something precious.