Chapter 43 #2
Long minutes passed. I was bruised and aching, my lungs still burning—now from sewage fumes—when Luvic finally slowed.
The sewer was so old that Luvic dropped down, crawling on his belly.
The brick looked hundreds of years old, and perhaps it was, because a figment sat next to the wall, spreading mortar and laying brick.
By his clothing, I’d say he was from the early 1800s.
When Luvic passed through the narrowest section, we came to a clog in the sewer where trash had clumped together in an underground jetty. Luvic jumped over it and landed cat-paw-quiet in front of a metal door.
He tilted a shoulder, and I slid off, landing stiff-legged on the ground.
He stared pointedly at the door. I tried the handle. Locked.
Luvic blew out a breath as if to ask why I wasn’t picking the lock.
Well.
I carefully walked back to the pile of trash and found a piece of thin metal. Then, heading back, I jimmied the lock and thrust the door open. Luvic pushed in front of me, and I followed, closing the door behind us.
It was a small room. There were old tools here, rusted now, and a three-legged wooden stool.
There were rat bones in the corner and a few cockroaches scuttling under a rotten old shelf.
This must’ve been where sanitary workers stored their tools and took breaks, but I don’t think it had been used for that purpose for decades.
Instead, there was a relatively new lock and the diffuse blue glow of battery-powered automatic lighting.
I frowned at Luvic. “Is this a hidey-hole?”
He made a noise and then sat with his back to the door, staring at me.
“Can you change back?”
The corner of his mouth lifted with a snarl, and his teeth glistened.
I bit my bottom lip. “You changed to save me, didn’t you?”
His orange eyes narrowed. They glowed like a flame, catching the blue light.
“Thank you. I would’ve died if you hadn’t .
. .” I took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling, then I looked back at Luvic.
“It was the Smiths. Did you know that? You’re probably wondering what Hell Gate did to make them so angry.
” I smiled. “Then again, maybe not. You were there when I killed him.”
Luvic growled, and I shrugged.
“It’s true. I did.”
I walked toward Luvic, but when I was a foot away, he made a warning rattle in his throat. I stayed back and focused inward. I clung to the river of power flowing through me and everything that made me a Ward. I clasped onto everything that cut through illusion.
Then I spoke with all the power and authority I had. “You’re a man. You’re Luvic. Change back. Now.”
Luvic shuddered. His muscles rippled under his fur, and his tendons twisted.
He snarled and yelped. Whatever was happening hurt.
But it didn’t work. After thirty seconds, the spasms and twisting stopped, and Luvic collapsed to the floor.
He lay on his side, his ribs rising and falling with each heaving breath.
I crouched down. “Luvic?”
He made a small, rattling noise.
“I’m going to try again.”
He closed his eyes.
I put my hand in his sewer-wet fur and felt the rapid, too-fast thud of his heart. “You are Luvic Bard. A conjurer. Not a jackaltooth. Change. Now. You are a man.”
He violently spasmed, and his whole body shook. Then he stiffened, and a snarl ripped from his throat. Right when I thought he was free and he’d be himself again, he dropped back to the floor, still a jackaltooth.
He was exhausted. He couldn’t open his eyes. His rib cage moved like a creaky door. Under my hand, his heartbeat staggered like an old man lurching from one foot to the next.
I ran my fingers through his fur, soothing his rapid heartbeat.
“It worked last time,” I said, searching to see if there were any knots on him I could untie. But no. As a jackaltooth, Luvic didn’t seem capable of making or maintaining illusion.
There was a cut and a bit of blood on his shoulder. He’d have to clean that. Blood mixed with sewage was asking for infection.
“It looks like Griff got you. Hmm. Your paws too. Did you cut them digging us out?”
Luvic ignored me. His heartbeat had slowed. His breathing was steady. Maybe he’d fallen asleep.
“We’ll have to go soon. We can’t stay here forever. I mean, it is nice. You’ve got bones. Rotting shelves. Eau de sewer. It’s very homey. A nice place for a jackaltooth and his . . .”—not friend— “companion. But . . . honestly. Wouldn’t you rather be a conjurer than a jackaltooth?”
I was tired. There was something soothing about the soft rattle of Luvic’s breathing.
I lay down on the stone floor and rested my head on his chest. His fur was damp and hot. My head rose and fell with each of his breaths. I gripped his fur and closed my eyes.
“Change back,” I whispered.
Luvic’s muscles clenched. His form twisted, and I was thrown across the room. I hit the rotting shelves, and the splintering wood fell on top of me. When I wiped the wood chips and dust free, Luvic was leaning against the metal door.
He was dressed, clean, and smiling.
Of course, it was illusion, but he still looked like a Bard ready for his photo shoot.
I pushed to my feet and swiped the sawdust and cobwebs from my pajamas.
“Morning.” Luvic gave me a wide smile as if none of the past hour had happened at all.
I pointed at him. “Do I control you?”
His smile widened. “No.”
“Can I command you?”
He tilted his head. “No.”
“Then why am I able—sort of—to make you become human again? Don’t deny it. And also, why are you becoming a jackaltooth? Stop smiling like that. Luvic! Stop playing games with me—”
“But Mari, we’ve always played games. I do it with all my friends. And you and me, we’re—”
“Friends. Yeah.” I waved my hand in front of him, brandishing the pointer finger he’d stabbed with the pin. “What did you do to us and why? Tell me, or . . .”
Luvic lifted his eyebrows, waiting for me to finish my threat.
I sighed. I couldn’t help him if he didn’t trust me, but honestly, he couldn’t trust me. He shouldn’t.
“The Smith wants you dead,” he finally said, searching my expression.
The Smith. Finn. I swallowed and ignored the press of heat at the backs of my eyes. “It seems that way.”
“Do you want him dead?”
“No. Why are we here?”
Luvic looked around the small room. “Because the Bard asked me to fetch you.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And bring me here?”
Luvic’s lips lifted, and for a moment, he looked amused. “Slight detour. We should go. We’ll want to clean up before seeing him.”
“No offense, but I really don’t want to see your dear dad today.”
“Trust me, neither do I. However, it’s the Bards’ day to play, and my dad wants to use you for . . .” He waved his hands and said in a deep, mocking voice, “Dastardly deeds on dark days.”
I bit my lower lip. It would be so nice if I could throw my arms around Luvic and tell him I remembered everything, that I trusted him, loved him, and that I was his friend.
But I couldn’t. Even the hint of laughter brewing inside me was surrounded by Jagger’s choking hold.
We never planned for this.
It was like humans and death. All humans know they’re going to die, but so few of them plan for it or talk about what will happen once it comes.
Maybe that was why Luvic, Finn, and I were so unprepared. We knew it was coming, but we didn’t know how or when, or what it’d be like after.
Instead of laughing, I smiled at Luvic.
He stopped, half-turned toward the door, his hand extended toward the knob. He stared intently at me. “Sometimes, Mari, you remind me of someone I used to know.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “She was . . . practical. I’d say . . . that was her best quality.”
“Practical?”
“That’s right. She knew all the terrible things in the world, but she was so practical about it all you never felt like things were hopeless.
I bet if an army of tanks rolled down Central Park West, she’d just shrug and say, ‘We’d better stock up on toilet paper.
You know there’s going to be a raid on it—all of New York is crapping themselves right now.
’” He laughed and shook his head. His eyes were glowing with his memories.
“She was something else. But she trusted too easily. She was too selfless. It got her killed.”
He shrugged, and when he did, a slow itch worked its way up my spine. He was talking about me.
“And then what happened?” I asked, my voice deceptively calm.
Luvic stared at me, weighing my expression. “I don’t know.”
I nodded, my throat tight. My words were constricted at the base of my throat, and there was nothing I was able to say.
“I’d like to say everything ended with a happily ever after, but I’m not sure what happily ever after actually means.
” He turned back to the door and pulled it open.
Looking over his shoulder, he threw back, “When you meet the Bard, do whatever he asks. He’s in a bad mood.
When he gets this way, he’s not picky about who he hurts.
Or kills. You may be the leggerock’s, but that doesn’t matter to the Bard.
You may be my friend, but he doesn’t know or care. In fact, he might hurt you if he knew.”
That was all true, and nothing Luvic hadn’t told me before.
We stepped into the dark tunnel.
“And Mari . . .”
“Yeah?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Thanks.”
We left the sewers to find the Bard.