Horn of Winter (Relic Hunters #5)

Chapter 12.3

I had no idea there was a fire escape in this lane and I’d certainly traversed it plenty of times over the decades. As it turned out, there was a good reason why—it was one of those ones where the ladder retracted back up to the first landing if it wasn’t in use. If you didn’t look up, you wouldn’t see it.

He lightly leapt high, pulled the ladder down, and then climbed up. I followed at a slower pace, not trusting the rather rusted-looking framework. It held my weight even if it creaked ominously. Once he’d retracted the ladder again, we continued up the rest of the fire escape until we reached the roof and then carefully made our way across to the bank building next door.

There was no sign of our witch on this side of the roof, so I caught the wind and spun it lightly forward. Even that had tears stinging my eyes. I blinked them away and, after a few seconds, the wind came back with the news she remained. It couldn’t tell me if she was alive or dead, of course, but the fact she wasn’t moving did point to her being seriously injured. But then, I had aimed two bolts of lightning at her. At the very least, her respiratory system would have been momentarily paralyzed, and she might have even suffered secondary burns as her hair or clothes cindered.

“She’s still there,” I told Mathi.

“Good. Let’s keep moving, before someone reports us.”

“Like you’re actually worried about that,” I said dryly.

“I’m not, but it is the sort of thing you tend to get overly concerned about.”

Given I couldn’t actually argue that point, I simply motioned him to continue. We cautiously climbed to the roof ridge, then paused again, keeping low as we scanned the other side. She was lying right where the wind had said, near the old chimney, and had one arm stretched out above her head and a pool of water surrounding her fingers—the melted remnants of her ice attack, perhaps? A strangely pale circle of what looked like ash surrounded the rest of her body. I suspected it was a result of my lightning, and if it could do that to slate then there was very little chance she’d survived.

Which was in truth a relief.

I might not have any choice about handing over this woman or my aunt, but I just couldn’t stomach the thought of doing so when they were alive.

Of course, that also led to another major problem—killing my aunt. That was something I still didn’t want to contemplate, even in self-defense.

“I’m not seeing the horn,” Mathi commented. “So it’s either under her body or Riayn has beaten us here.”

“I can’t see my aunt physically coming up here, but I certainly wouldn’t put it past her to have hired a shifter to keep an eye on Martha’s movements. She’s obviously developed serious trust issues?—”

“And just as obviously leapt off sanity’s edge.”

“—and is wealthy enough to be able to afford a twenty-four-hour watch.”

“The IIT would have frozen her accounts when she was supposedly killed, but that does not mean she has no access to money. Not these days.” Mathi glanced skyward. “I’m not seeing any indication we’ve a winged watcher.”

“The wind agrees, but maybe that’s because they’ve already taken the horn to my aunt.”

“Possibly.”

He carefully slipped down the other side. I followed him over to our witch and stopped close to her feet. The soles of her shoes, I noted, had been burned out and her feet blackened. I gulped, not really sure I wanted to see anything more, but we needed to know whether the horn was here or not, and to do that, we needed to turn her over.

“If the horn is underneath her,” I said. “You can’t touch it with bare skin. Borrhás might have said it’s only when you use the horn with hatred or revenge in your heart that your fate is sealed to ice, but let’s not take any chances.”

He nodded. “She looks as stiff as a board, and it’s too soon for rigor mortis to have set in.”

“Perhaps when he mentioned being wrapped in ice, he meant immediately upon death.” I rubbed my arms. “They’re not going to get her into a body bag like that.”

“They’ll probably use a shroud.”

He squatted beside her then carefully rolled her onto her back. I couldn’t help but gasp. One side of her face was completely covered by a network of tiny red welts that resembled a river and its tributaries. They extended down her neck and across one breast, which was visible thanks to her sweater and a portion of her bra being burned away. There were other patches of burning dotted across the rest of her clothing, and I really didn’t dare look closer to see if the revealed skin bore the same sort of scarring.

The horn—which was indeed whole—remained clenched in her left hand, but her fingers were seemingly welded to it by bands of ice. Given they hadn’t existed when second sight had shown me her location in the café, it must have happened when death had claimed her. Perhaps it was a means of not being parted from the person who’d abused its power—a way of ensuring the abuser’s body and soul could be claimed by Borrhás. Godly relics often had minds of their own, so it was entirely possible.

“It looks like she’ll have to be moved as is,” Mathi said. “And that’s not going to be easy.”

“The whole carrying her across several rooftops and then getting her down that fire escape aside, someone is bound to report us carrying a dead person through the streets.”

“Indeed, which is why our best bet is to not walk across the roof or through the streets at all.”

“But how—’ I stopped. “Company helicopter? Isn’t this area out of bounds for all air traffic except for emergency air evacs?”

“I can get special dispensation from the council if necessary, but it might?—”

“Special dispensation could take days, and to repeat, we haven’t got that long.”

“You forget we’ve been tasked with returning?—”

“To Borrhás, not the council.”

He rolled his eyes. “Seriously, can you just let me finish a sentence?”

I couldn’t help the smile that tugged briefly at my lips. “I could; not sure that I will.”

Amusement briefly echoed in his eyes. “The minute they hear Liadon has been tasked by the god himself to retrieve his artifact, they’ll work with inhuman speed to get us all that we need. Which, in this case, is a fire ladder to get us all off this roof, and either an ambulance or a morgue van to transport us and the body over to the council’s building.”

“And while you arrange all that, I will drink water and eat the rest of this block of chocolate.”

“The whole block?”

“You should have seen how many blocks I went through when we broke up.”

He shook his head, got out his phone, and started making calls. I retreated to the other side of the roof and sat down to eat, drink, and rest. By the time the fire brigade had arrived, I’d completed my self-assigned tasks but didn’t really feel any better. Only a good ten hours—or more—of sleep would do that.

But actual sleep wasn’t something I was going to get all that much of... unconsciousness was another matter entirely.

I frowned at the thought but didn’t have the chance to chase it down as Mathi walked over. “They’re raising the ladder now. Once we’re down and Martha has been removed, a morgue vehicle will transfer us all over to the council’s headquarters. Dhruv Eadevane will meet us in the foyer to witness and document the horn’s return.”

“I’m sure Liadon would make a note of it.”

“No doubt, but they nevertheless want to make their own record of it in case anything is said in the future.”

I personally thought it was a little too late for them to be worrying about future records, but I wasn’t about to say that to any of them. Eadevane seemed friendly enough now that I’d spoken to him outside the confines of the council chambers, and I needed all the friends I could get there, especially if, after the coronation, Cynwrig stepped away from it.

I really hoped he didn’t. Even if our relationship was doomed, it would still be nice to see him—talk to him—occasionally.

“Come on, up you get.” Mathi held out a hand. “The sooner we get this task done, the sooner you can get to your hotel and get some rest.”

I put my hand in his and once again he hauled me up easily. “I need to return home first—I left my overnight bags there.”

“That might not be safe.”

“The tavern is full of people. If my aunt intended to send anyone after me, she’d only do so when the place was closed and there were no possible witnesses. As long as I’m gone well before that happens, it’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” he growled, but didn’t actually argue.

We were roped up, then sent down the ladder and escorted over to the morgue truck, which was nothing more than a basic white van in appearance. A stretcher and a shroud were sent up to the roof, and a few minutes later she was brought back down and carried over to the van. Once they’d placed her on a trolley and closed the rear door, we climbed into the front and were soon underway. The driver didn’t speak—perhaps he’d been told not to—but he did make record time getting over to the council building, despite the traffic.

Once there, he opened the rear door, pulled out the trolley, and motioned Mathi to take over. He did so, quickly wheeling over to the main doors, which the guard was already holding open.

Eadevane waited between the stairs and the elevators, his gaze scanning us critically before sweeping across the covered trolley. “And the horn?”

Mathi stopped, undid the straps, then flipped away the shroud. Martha lay on her side, and the chill radiating from her body was now sharp enough that I could feel it from several feet away. The horn might not currently be in use, but it remained dangerous.

Eadevane moved around taking photos, then nodded and motioned Mathi to cover her up again. “There is no elevator to Liadon’s door, and I suspect it would also be nigh on impossible to get the stretcher up the stairs.”

“I’ll use the air to get her body up there,” I said.

Mathi frowned. “Unwise, given your current state. We can simply carry her?—”

“No,” I cut in, “we can’t. She’ll be just as hard to maneuver in her current state as the stretcher and besides, we can’t risk touching the horn.”

“The shroud should?—”

“She may be dead, but that horn is still active. Look at the trolley’s legs, Mathi.”

His gaze darted down. The visible metal sections now held the slightest silver sheen.

“We can’t risk the chill leaching across to us via contact, no matter how brief or protected we may be.”

He didn’t look happy but didn’t argue any further, either. The plain fact of the matter was, I was the only one who could get into Liadon’s domain and would probably end up having to use the air anyway.

“You head up while I release the remaining straps.”

I nodded and walked around the two men to the elevator. There might be only two flights between me and Liadon’s stairs, but the less I had to climb, the better for my energy levels.

Even so, by the time I reached her door, my breath was a harsh rasp and my body shaking. I pressed a hand against the unnatural-feeling wood and waited for it to do its scanner thing. Once it had opened, I stepped back, leaned over the metal railing, and shouted, “Okay, I’m here. She clear?”

“Yes,” Mathi said. “I’ll come up and wait for you.”

“You don’t?—”

“I do, and I am.”

His tone said “don’t bother arguing” so for once, I didn’t. I sucked in a deeper breath, then created a rope of air and flung it down to Martha. Pain exploded through my brain, and I hissed, fighting tears as I hauled the older woman’s body off the trolley and up through the atrium. A red mist began to fall across my vision, but I ignored the warning and dragged Martha’s body over the railing, then thrust her into Liadon’s tunnel. I staggered in after her but had barely taken half a dozen steps when my strength gave out, and both Martha and I crashed to the shiny black stone.

For several minutes, I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. I just knelt there, my arms huddled around my body as I rocked back and forth, fighting the dark unconsciousness that threatened to overwhelm me. While I doubted Liadon meant me any harm, there was probably a very good reason the sheer black walls separated me from the other beings that inhabited this place.

And walls, no matter what kind, could always be breached if the attack was determined enough.

After a few more minutes, a greenish light began to press past closed eyelids. I forced them open and glanced up. The orb hovered several feet in front of me. Martha was nowhere to be seen. She’d obviously been silently swept away while I’d been wrapped in misery.

“Borrhás wishes to thank you for the return of his horn” came Liadon’s soft comment. “And for the soul and the flesh of the one who wielded it so unjustly.”

I nodded. I really couldn’t do anything else.

The orb drifted closer, its light washing waves of oddly warm air across my face and down my length. Strength trickled back into my system, and the immediate desire to simply collapse retreated a fraction.

I sucked in a breath, then whispered, my voice still tremulous, “Thank you.”

“I wish I could do more, but I am considered neutral in these games of theirs and will not risk that position being altered. What I protect is too valuable.”

And what she protected was what I was hoping to use to find my mom’s killers, so I wasn’t about to argue.

“He did also wish me to remind you that he wants the woman behind this scheme captured as soon as possible. He does, however, understand that even a godling needs rest.”

“That’s good of him,” I muttered.

Her amusement swam around me, even though she wasn’t physically present. “You have no idea how true a statement that is. You should go and recover. Darkness still hunts you, and you will need the strength to survive what comes.”

“I don’t suppose you want to expand on what comes?”

“Again, that would be a risk too far.”

And with that, her presence withdrew, though her orb remained. I sighed, pushed wearily to my feet, and staggered back to the door. Mathi was waiting on the other side.

He gripped my arm with one hand to keep me upright, then gave me a large reusable mug filled with hot tea. I took a sip and sighed in happiness. “Where the hell did you get this? The council chambers?”

“Good grief, no, that muck is undrinkable. I had Grant go fetch some.”

“What happened to Marc?”

“He’s the company driver and now off duty. Grant is a recent hire and will fill in for Henrick when he has time off or is otherwise unavailable.”

“Ah.” I took another sip, and though the tiredness remained, strength was definitely returning. While it was probably due more to Liadon’s gift of healing than the tea, I wasn't about to give said tea up.

“You up to walking down, or shall we wait a few more minutes?” he asked.

“As long as we don’t rush, I’ll be fine.”

He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned and headed down in front of me, keeping close enough that should I slip or falter, he could easily catch me.

I didn’t slip, though by the time we reached street level, the temporary strength Liadon had gifted me was disappearing fast. I made it to the car, dropped the now empty reusable mug into a holder, then closed my eyes and leaned back against the headrest, listening to the gentle thrum of the engine as Grant whisked us away into the traffic.

“Right,” Mathi said, after what seemed only a few minutes. “I’ll go get your bags, then we’ll escort you over to the hotel.”

I nodded. I should have argued, really, because not doing so would only confirm his suspicions that I wasn’t in a great state, but in all honesty, I just didn’t have the strength. He returned what seemed to be only a couple of minutes later, tossed my bags into the trunk, then climbed back in and gave Grant the address of the hotel.

When we arrived, he collected my bags, then collected me and escorted me inside, checking me in and then taking me up to the room—and made me wait in the hall while he checked it was empty and safe.

“Really,” I said, caught between amusement and annoyance, “isn’t this all a little over the top?”

“No. And Lugh would expect nothing less.” He glanced at me. “Would you be protesting if it was Cynwrig being overcautious?”

“Yes.”

“You lie, Bethany Aodhán.” He waved me inside. “Now, make sure you lock this door—using both the supplied locks and your own wood weaving—and get some rest. I’ll be here tomorrow?—”

“Come for breakfast,” I said. “Apparently they do a fantastic full English downstairs. My treat.”

“Did I not mention me being able to claim all expenses?”

“Yes, so I’ll give you the docket.”

He laughed, kissed my cheek, and left. I locked the door behind him, then gently pressed my fingers against the frame and wove the two together. No one was getting into this room—not without making a whole lot of noise, anyway. Well, my aunt could, but I doubted she’d show her face so readily. It was more likely she’d send more lackeys.

I staggered into the bathroom to grab a quick shower, then tugged on a T-shirt and some knickers and climbed into bed. After sending a quick text to Lugh to tell him where I was, I fell, long and hard, into sleep.

I wasn’t sure what woke me gods knew how many hours later. I lay there for several minutes with my eyes closed, listening to the gentle song of the building, though it seemed much more distant than it should have been. It spoke of movement, but I wasn’t sure if it was in this room, in the hall beyond, or even several floors away. Confusion swirled through me, and I tried to shift, tried to throw off the blankets, but my limbs felt as heavy as my mind, and I just couldn’t.

Alarm stirred even as the song of the wood briefly sharpened in warning.

Then a cloth clamped over my nose and mouth while hands held me down. I struggled, but every breath was filled with the slightly sweet-smelling scent that soaked the cloth, and it made my head spin. Darkness rushed in.

The last thing I clearly remembered was a voice. A familiar voice.

My aunt’s voice.