Chapter 63 #2
“Sure, of course,” the little man grumbles, as he begins to dig in his pockets for something. “I did tell you it’s unlikely the stone is genuine, right?” he asks, squinting his one eye and leaning towards Reem.
“Yes, you mentioned that,” Reem says dryly.
As I watch the interaction, Dio, whom I suddenly realize is standing near me, says, “Several times in fact if what Reem told us is true.”
His voice is pitched low, his words quiet and clearly just for me.
The familiarity of the action makes my chest ache.
I press the emotions down again as I struggle to breathe with the sudden tightness in my chest. I run the thumb of my hand over the place where he laid his hand on mine in the carriage.
It still feels warm, as though I can feel the ghost of his touch.
As I try to focus on anything other than Dio, the little man produces a key from his pocket. Bending slowly, he leans over and opens a locked compartment. When he rises, he puts a small object wrapped in some type of fabric on the counter and looks expectantly at Reem.
Reem steps forward and carefully unwraps what turns out to be a small, normal-looking black stone with a hole in it.
I can’t help myself and step closer. As I look at the stone, I feel another piece of the map fill in, and while I’m blind to where that path leads, the message is clear. This stone is important to the overall journey.
Reeling slightly at the sheer weight of this message, I watch as Fem steps forward, looks at the stone, and scoffs. “No way that’s genuine,” he says.
I take a step back and watch the interaction silently, unsure if I should say anything about the feeling I just had. There is such a lengthy history of them not believing me, and this seems like a stretch.
What would I say? In my head, there’s a map that says this rock is of great importance.
“Bargaining isn’t going to work for you, gentlemen,” the little man says. “Like I said, it may not be genuine. I’ve been upfront, and the price is the price. Take it or leave it.”
Fem looks at Reem, who seems to be considering, and makes an exasperated sound.
Just then, Lent emerges from one of the aisles and, in a voice too loud for the space, says, “This place is incredible!”
I jump at the sudden noise and then laugh, his joy as always infectious.
Before anyone else can say anything, he steps forward, crowding the space where Reem and Fem are standing. Barely looking at the stone, he says, “We’ll take it!”
Reem begins to open his mouth, but before he can say anything, the little man says, “That will be one hundred and twenty pounds.”
I feel my jaw drop at the amount and expect Lent to be put off. Even as Reem opens his mouth to try again, Lent pulls out the money and sets it on the counter. Then he wraps the small stone up and tucks it into his pocket.
Turning to Reem and Fem, he says, “Let me show you something over here. This place is incredible!”
Reem and Fem turn from the shopkeeper, who looks smug, to Lent and follow him. I can vaguely hear them grumbling about group decisions and listening to each other.
As they disappear, following Lent, Dio steps up to the counter. “How much for the knives?” he asks.
“One caught your eye, sonny?” the shopkeeper asks. When Dio doesn’t respond, he says, “Those vary, anywhere from five pounds to twenty, but because you’ve been good customers, I’ll give you a deal. Pick any one for ten pounds.”
Dio reaches out to point at one, and I quickly step forward and say, “No, that one,” and point at the knife I remember from a dream. I still can’t remember when, but something tells me it is important.
Dio glances at me sideways and then says, “Ok, I’ll take that one,” indicating the knife I’m pointing to.
“Good choice,” the little man says brightly. He removes the small, sharply pointed knife from the wall, adds a small sheath, and wraps it in a thin piece of leather while Dio pays.
As he does so, the others emerge from the shelves. I grit my teeth at the interruption. I can feel Dio’s eyes on the side of my face.
Reem is still grumbling at Lent, who doesn’t look at all repentant. As they get back to us, we all turn to leave.
When we get near the door, though, tension fills me, and I throw my arm out to stop the others. However, before I can do anything more to stop him, Lent barges past me and bursts through the door. I rush after him and manage to make it to the edge of the alley and the street before him.
My hand goes to my sword as I see a host of angels arranged on the street in front of us.
Reem presses in front of me and says in a confident and friendly voice, “What’s happening here, fellows?”
Damn their inability to see these as angels.
The crowd is eerily silent, every eye on me, and I draw my sword.
“Chaosta,” Reem hisses quietly. He looks out at the angels and says with a forced chuckle, “Ignore our guard dog, everyone. She takes our security very seriously.”
The angels still don’t move, don’t speak, their eyes remain focused on me.
Behind me, Lent pipes up and says, “I’m pretty sure we have some extra records in the carriage we’d be happy to sign for our amazing fans.”
Then I hear Dio’s voice directly behind me say, “What’s going on?”
Without turning to him, I say quietly, “They’re angels.”
“Fuck,” he says harshly. “Hey guys, those aren’t fans.”
There’s a sound like the snarl of a steel beast as at least twenty blades are drawn nearly simultaneously.
Behind me, I hear Lent, of all people, say in a quiet but confident tone, “We’ll distract them with some weather work, then you can do your thing, Dio.”
The angels begin to move forward toward me.
Dio’s voice behind me chokes out, “Be careful, please.”
I tense and then quickly grasp at the calm, focused instincts that I know I’m going to need to survive this. As I do so, I assume the position for the first form.
Deja vu hits me hard, pulling me briefly into a past dream as I hear Dio’s voice say, “You didn’t need to cut that deep, fuck that hurt.”
Then my instincts kick in, and I can’t hear anything but the blood pounding in my ears. I meet the charge of the first few angels and quickly kill two who moved before thinking and were caught off balance. Another I pin to the ground with her own sword.
Sweat begins to bead on my brow as I work to maintain the ground I’ve won so far. The only benefit I have in being so outnumbered is that such a large group is unable to attack at once.
Suddenly, the ground at the back of the group of angels erupts, and I see a couple of angels fall.
There is a strange feeling to the air that seems to pull at my hair, making it stand on end.
Then, another eruption occurs to the right of the initial blast. Moments later, heavy rain begins to fall around us, obscuring everything outside of the space where the three angels are attacking me.
I hear another loud crack, the sound cutting through the silence in my head. I briefly feel my arms aching, and my chest heaving, before I pull the numbness of focus back around me.
These angels are clever, trying to place themselves between me and the boys and cut me off. Thanks to all the practice with my footwork, however, I manage to avoid that fate. That innate intelligence strategizes, and each attempted blow is blocked, each attempt to isolate me is counteracted.
Eventually, I manage to incapacitate one with a hard enough blow of my hilt to her face, and she falls to the ground, her nose gushing blood. As she drops, and I note that the other two are retreating, I sense something at the edge of my awareness.
My gut churns, instincts screaming, and I run and throw myself into Dio, knocking him to the ground as a dagger flies past my ear.
Everything is suddenly loud, my focus gone as rain pours down around me, where I sit straddling Dio.
He blinks up at me, looking upset. “I was going to help you,” he says breathlessly.
Then I see the pain in his face and push myself off him, only to see Reem, Lent, and Fem glaring at me, their chests heaving. Before I can do or say anything, Fem walks past me, presumably to check on Dio.
Reem rounds on me. There’s some blood staining his shirt, vivid against the white, and his jacket is rumpled. “Everywhere we go, everything we do, you’re causing some sort of disruption,” he snarls.
“Not only am I confident this whole thing started because of you, but then you fucking knock Dio off his feet as he’s about to cast something. He could have killed you both when all we were trying to do was help.”
Every bit of breath leaves my lungs, and I take a step back.
“You are no longer welcome,” Reem says. “Not to live with us. You’re risking everything we built and putting all of us in danger. We can no longer do you the favor of housing you.” He’s shaking as he looks at the sky as though he’s asking a deity for help.
I can hear Dio saying something, his voice harsh but I can’t understand the words with the blood pounding in my ears.
Unable to think of anything to say for myself, I call for my own help. As I say Malam’s name, he’s suddenly standing here, between me and Reem.
As he looks at me, I know it’s lucky for the boys that he is facing me and not them. Behind Malam, I see that Lent has moved toward Reem and seems to be trying to reason with him. I don’t have it in me to fight for myself, though. Reem is right, I am causing them danger and disrupting their work.
Glancing at Dio, my chest aching, all I can do is step closer to Malam and say as quietly as I can, “Please take me somewhere else.”
Malam is looking over my shoulder, and I know he is seeing the rubble from the explosions and the wet pavement from the rain in the street behind me. I know there are bodies scattered across the street still, although it seems the angels must have already removed some.
If he is aware of the boys behind him, he doesn’t show it. “Where?” he asks, holding out his hand.
I take it, and without having to put much thought into it, I picture Lily’s apartment. Even as I do so, the shadow wraps around us and the alley, street, and the boys fade.
The last thing I see is Fem facing Dio with his hand pressed to Dio’s chest as Dio stares at me. There is something in his expression I cannot name.