Chapter 26
Benedict stood next to the spotlit stage, his clothes wrinkled and a frown pinching his brow as he scrolled through his local-news feed, sneaking pensive glances at Marty in the first row of dusty chairs.
The mage had been pleased to find the sun was shining all the way down here when we had arrived, but the longer we cooled our heels in the dark, the brighter and more uncomfortable that ray of sun felt to me.
Pluck, too, wasn’t happy, puddled at the back of the room as far from the light as he could get, almost in the unsafe area behind the stage.
I couldn’t see him from where I sat on the top step, but I could feel him, his emotions unusually closed.
Clearly he was trying to work something out, something he didn’t want to share with me.
Rush-hour traffic was a faint rumble through the dirt walls, and a bright spot of sunlight poured through the well to pierce the gloom like fiery vengeance.
We’d been here about twenty minutes, having ditched the van almost immediately and walked in on the bike paths.
Just three “friends” with their off-leash dog.
Herm, Lev, and Cameron were on the way in, all of them having easily evaded capture.
Even so, I was nervous. Pluck had been with Marty when Dana had found them in the break room.
He might be avoiding me, but he had made it clear that she wasn’t to blame.
I believed him. Otherwise, Marty might be dead.
It was obvious that people had begun to dump their dross here.
It wasn’t a lot yet, but it would get worse.
A rather large ball of it lurked near the opposite set of the stage stairs, and I wondered if I should use it to refill Marty’s amulet before returning it to her.
That I’d used it as if it were my own tracked, seeing as Pluck had tuned it.
Giving it to her felt like a mistake, though.
Thoth might take her to be a bigger threat than she was, and I tucked the stone into my pocket.
As expected, the tinnitus in my ears eased the moment my fingers left it.
The more dark matter I carried, the louder the echo of it was on the back of the universe.
I’d begun to sense waves of sensation seeming hours long, and in the quiet parts, the whispers of Pluck’s thought seemed clearer.
It was like being on the swells on the ocean, where if two boats were at a crest at the same time, they could see each other, but if one were in a trough, you might as well be alone.
Eyes closing, I created a tangle of dark matter, ordering the threads into bands before sending them out from me, listening to them hit the world like ripples of sonar.
How can anyone be so selfish?
I jerked, losing the threads entirely. My gaze shot to Pluck, but I’d swear it hadn’t been him.
Pluck? I thought, and the puddled shadow quivered, shuttering his thoughts even more…
but not until I recognized his embarrassment for having gotten caught and leaving me helpless—his thoughts, not mine—and his anger at Marty for not living up to his standards of what a weaver should be.
He called her a coward, and I think that bothered him more than being bottled.
Underneath it all, though, I sensed an increasing agitation at himself as he relived something from his past, triggered by Marty’s failings.
Pluck, will you talk to me, please? I thought, and the black puddle by the archway rippled a hazy green. None of this is your fault, I added, frowning when he pulled his thoughts even further from me.
“I can get the stick from Dana,” Marty said, startling me. Her words whispered against the dusty walls, and Aasta’s hazy shape at the ceiling tightened into a hard black knot. The shadow had been here since we had arrived, watching. “I know where it is.”
“It’s not worth putting you in danger,” Benedict said, voice tight.
Marty cringed, and a twinge of guilt sparked through me. Mine? Pluck’s? It didn’t matter. Pluck’s outline had gone hazy, and a decidedly not-me emotion of regret and self-shame had become strong in our shared thoughts.
Just wanting Benedict to stop glaring at her, I stood from the top step, hands in my pockets as I inched closer to the spot of sun. I swear, I can feel it from here…
“Hey, Benny,” I started, words faltering when ice swirled around my ankle.
I will be…somewhere else, Pluck fizzed, and then he was gone, his hint of a sparkling haze disappearing behind the stage.
Benedict watched him go, brow furrowed. “Is he okay?”
My gaze lingered where he’d vanished, but it was hard to see past the beam of light.
Pluck was remembering things he didn’t want to.
I didn’t know how to help him. Torn, I hesitated.
“I’m not sure. I’ll go talk to him. Let me know when they get here.
” I flicked my attention to Marty, my gaze drawn to Aasta at the ceiling when a bolt of green sparked through the shadow.
“Ease up on her, will you? Being afraid doesn’t make you a bad person. ”
“I know. But she could have warned us,” he muttered.
“We found her in the van as much a prisoner as Pluck,” I reminded him, and he nodded, his shoulders finally slumping.
Smiling, I gave him a quick hug, then went to look for Pluck.
I’d only been in the back area of the stage once, and that had been before the collapse.
The harsh light streaming in through the well didn’t go very far, and I inhaled, palms tingling as I brought a mess of threads of dark matter into my forethoughts.
Pinching one between my fingers and thumbs, I stretched it, satisfied when a soft glow appeared, the dark matter protesting the manhandling.
Repurposing the auditorium into a memorial had necessitated a bare minimum of rubble removal if for nothing more than inspecting the support structure, and much of the false ceiling that the gardens were based on was really nothing but a large dome to redistribute weight to the edges.
Most of the nonsupporting walls had been knocked out, leaving ragged edges and scratched floors.
Dross glittered here as well, but it was old and faint, and the damp feel of water touched my face as I picked my way through the shattered backstage areas following a faint sense of sadness.
Pluck? I thought when I turned a corner to find a wall of rubble fronting me.
Here, came faintly from beyond it, and I searched out a good-size opening through the clutter at the ceiling. There was a space beyond it. I could almost see it through Pluck’s eyes.
Moving slow so I didn’t lose the light, I worked my way up the rubble to the ceiling.
Mind the dross, Pluck fizzed, and I jerked, the sudden heat on my elbow driving away the light-born chill. The haze of latent bad luck had been hiding in the broken concrete, unseen in the glare from my own light.
“Aww, shizit,” I whispered when a tingling cramp raced up my arm and the dross broke. The rock I was standing on shifted. I yelped, but when I reached to catch myself, my light went out. More rocks slid from under me and I slipped to the bottom in the new, utter darkness.
You okay? fizzed through my thoughts, a ribbon of guilt and heartache twining through it.
My pulse hammered, but I had only gone a few feet, and now that my light was out, I could see the dross better.
Actually, I could see everything better, and I sat up, wondering at the glow coming through the hole near the ceiling.
I’m fine, I thought as I carefully stood and rubbed my elbow. Is that light from dross?
A faint sense of agreement drifted through me, but if Pluck was in there, then there had to be some open space free of it. Careful now, I made my way back up to the opening and looked through.
It was a large area left fallow after the work crews cleared it, lit by the dross that Benedict’s spell five months ago had missed. Movement drew my gaze to the ceiling where reflected light rippled as if shining through water.
I looked down, lips parting as I realized that was exactly what was going on.
I had been told that St. Unoc had been built to take advantage of a natural underground river, but until today, I’d never seen any evidence of it other than the washes filling in the rainy season.
The water must have been forced up after the auditorium collapsed.
Dross glittered up from the depths, going down into a subbasement.
Ripples ran the surface, giving the very air a transparent, glowing feel.
“Pluck?” I whispered, my attention pulled to a sudden movement and sploot of water.
It was Pluck in his human shift, his dark hair catching the light and narrow face creased in thought as he sat on an enormous chunk of concrete beside the underground reservoir.
Even as I watched, he threw another pebble, his motion somehow listless and depressed.
He glanced sidelong at me, green eyes blinking.
It wasn’t much of an invitation, but seeing as he could have evaporated and vanished, I took it as one.
Moving carefully, I worked my way through the gap at the ceiling, and from there, down to the floor.
It must have been a practice room for the orchestra, as the ceiling was high and there were no walls to mar the large, cavernous space.
Worried, I sat down beside him, feet dangling almost to the water.
Little fish clustered, drawn to the movement.
They had to be either pet-shop flushes or an almost-extinct native species.
I was betting it was the latter. Fish in the desert.
It made sense if you knew that the continent had once been divided by an enormous inland sea.
“Did you know this was here?” I said when he remained silent.
“I found it when looking for Aasta.” He threw another pebble. “Is she still out there staring at Marty?”