Chapter Eight #4
“What is it?” Gideon asks. The anteroom where Percy’s assistant usually sits is empty. Percy, at my request, loaned her to the migration team for the day. They need extra hands as they work out how and when to move people from the resettlement camps to more permanent housing.
“Nothing yet,” he says. “The word has gotten out what you’re doing here today. I’m getting reports that the mood in the camps is very low.”
I exchange a glance with Gideon. “That’s not unexpected.”
Kirsch shrugs uneasily. “I don’t know what it is, David. I have a very bad feeling. Things have gone too quiet.”
A niggle of concern rises in me. Kirsch is very good at his job. If he’s worried, I should be too.
Behind us, the office door opens, and we turn to watch Andrew come out. There’s a grim set to his mouth. “What’s happened?” he asks.
“Nothing. Kirsch is uneasy.”
Andrew nods. “Something’s going to happen.”
“You have a feeling?” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I miss the old days, when Andrew’s premonitions of disaster were few and far between. “Can you give us a hint?”
“It’s not connected to what the king needs to do this morning,” he says immediately. “The itchiness ramps up when I think about Tish and éibhear, so something they’re planning, presumably.”
Because that’s helpful. The bad guys are going to do something bad. Gee, thanks.
Leashing my inner sarcasm, I turn back to Kirsch. “No reports of movement?”
“None.” He shakes his head. “All our agents are reporting quiet and calm. It’s the first time since this all started that every encampment we know about has had such little activity.”
“Yeah, that’s not good.” Gideon narrows his eyes. “They’re doing something and trying to lull us into a false sense of security.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I ask, “What are their most likely targets? The resettlement camps?”
“No,” Andrew says immediately. “That doesn’t feel right.”
“Us?” Gideon presses. “Here at the office?”
Pulling a face, Andrew says, “I don’t know. That feels a bit murky. Maybe us but not the office? Or the office but not us. Or another CSG office?”
“I’ll put out an alert to all offices,” Kirsch says. “Could you let me know if you get any clarification?”
“Of course.” We all know it’s unlikely, but hey, we live in hope. If we’re lucky, the heightened security will be all we need.
Kirsch goes to arrange it, and the three of us go back into the office.
I reweave the ward securely closed and make sure it’s at full activation before turning my attention to the rest of the room.
It’s mostly silent now. The king and Percy are still standing together, but now they have their hands linked and eyes closed.
Sam comes up to us. “The magic made it clear that Percy needed to be involved. Something about energies from both dimensions being needed for a permanent seal,” he murmurs.
King Raeulfr begins to speak, his voice low and sonorous.
The words are elvish, so I don’t understand them, but the cadence is…
chilling. This is not a spell to be invoked lightly.
This is a last-ditch, no-other-options kind of spell.
I know this because it’s the first time ever that I’ve been able to feel elven spellcasting.
Every time before, I’ve been able to see the resulting weaves, but not feel them being created. This, I feel in every atom of my body.
From the way everyone else in the room is reacting, I’m not the only one. I guess permanently sealing off a dimension is a serious undertaking and needs major mojo.
The king’s voice rises, and the usual ebb and flow of the magic begins to speed up around me.
And then something slams into me.
I blink, sure we must have been hit by a bomb or grenade, but there’s nothing. I’m still standing. The room is the same.
But everything is different.
The king drops to his knees, releasing Percy’s hands, but Percy kneels with him and places an arm around him as he sobs. Brandt, face pale and drawn, joins them on unsteady feet.
The magic continues to flow as it always has, but there’s something sad about it right now.
Reminding myself how to put one foot in front of the other, I go to Caolan. He’s shaking, and Noah’s got an arm around his waist, basically holding him up. I take over, and Noah goes to help Ellie with Garin.
Wrapping Caolan in my arms, I squeeze, letting him know he’s not alone. If the creation of the barrier affected me like this, I can’t imagine how he’s feeling.
He clings to me, burying his face in the side of my neck, and we just hold each other.
I’m not sure how many minutes pass before Sam says, “David?” I blink my vision clear, not aware until that moment that I’m crying, and meet his gaze. His eyes are rimmed in red, his features drawn. “The wards. Can you…? Someone should check…”
Fuck. He’s right. We’re probably not the only ones who felt this. Billions of beings across Earth could be wondering what the fuck happened. Only a tiny fraction might suspect the truth.
I undo the wards so Sam can leave. Gideon, Alistair, and Elinor follow him out. Noah stays with Garin, and Andrew is helping Percy get the king and Brandt off the floor and into chairs.
In my arms, Caolan takes a deep, shaky breath.
“The life force is everywhere, in everything,” he murmurs, drawing back. “It mourns the loss of a limb today.”
That’s a much better analogy than “barrier.” There is no barrier between that dimension and the rest of existence—it’s been excised completely.
The leaf against my chest weighs heavy, and tears sting my eyes again.
“How are you?” I ask, and it comes out in a hoarse whisper. I don’t want to leave him, don’t want to push him, but as much as I want to make him my priority right now, I can’t. There’s a whole world that needs me.
He draws another deep breath. “I live.”
I lift a hand and press it against his cheek. “Will you be okay here? I need to go help the others. The impact of this…”
He nods. “Go.”
From the couch Andrew’s settled him on, the king says, “It was worst here, David, because this is where the spell was concentrated. All beings will have felt something, but none as badly as here.”
Well, that’s something, at least. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Your Majesty.” It’s an awkward, trite phrase, but what else is there to say?
The door bangs open behind me, and I whirl, pulling power up from within me.
It’s Sam.
He’s wild-eyed and breathless.
Andrew comes forward, and I know .
“The lucifer’s seal is gone.”