Truthseeker Part 8

She heard herself say, aIt doesnat matter right now,a and ached with the weary truth running through it. aWeare going to have to keep going, Kel. I canat walk ten miles in these shoes, and maybe all thatas up there is a dead deer.a aIf I were stronger,a Dafydd said from the backseat, his voice low and frustrated.

Lara shook her head. aIf wishes were horses.a Chills ran down her spine, this time from awareness that her talent didnat object to the phrase. aIave never said that before. Iave heard it, but it just made me uncomfortable. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. I never would have said that. Itas too improbable. Itas not true.a aItas true enough,a Dafydd said. aIf wishes were horses, beggars probably would ride.a aBut wouldnat a beggar be more likely to wish for a house and food and clothes?a aIt doesnat say if wishes came true, only if they were horses.a aWill you two shut up already? Ye G.o.ds.a Kelly put the car back in drive. aIf Iad known you were going to start deconstructing axioms Iad have left you to sleep.a aNo.a Lara smiled, unexpectedly cheerful. aYou wouldnat have.a aHow many times do I have to tell you youare not supposed to do that?a Kelly shot her a scolding glance. aYou better hope itas a dead deer, or I might just turn you over to the cops.a aNo,a Lara said again, and smiled at the road. aYou wonat.a Kelly said aOh, be quieta without rancor, and both women laughed. It was better that way, Lara thought. Better, certainly, than the tension that slowly ebbed their laughter away as they made their way down the road.

She wasnat, she realized, afraid of being arrested herself. She could employ the newly acquired knack of making people hear the truth in her voice if she must, though it was still an unpalatable solution. One that would probably end, as Kelly had suggested, in straitjackets and padded walls. And prison was hardly preferable, though there at least shead be less likely to face psychotropic drugs meant to ameliorate the insanity of claiming to have been attacked by fairy-tale monsters. There would be a chance of parole from prison, as well, should she be convicted of manslaughter or murder. Aggravated a.s.sault, a more hopeful part of her suggested, or attempted manslaughter; those were lighter sentences, and there was no word yet on whether Detective Was.h.i.+ngton had survived his injuries.

Anxiety relaxed its knotted hold in her belly, loosened by faint curiosity. Lara had never thought of herself as particularly brave, but she recognized the pattern of her thoughts: she was looking for ways to accept all blame herself. None of them had done anything wrong, beyond being caught up in extraordinary events, but if the worst should come to pa.s.s, there was no reason for both Kelly and d.i.c.kon to suffer.

It would be easier if she had a weapon, so she could claim shead forced Kelly to help her at gunpoint. But the true voice might help there, if she could vocalize a command that even authorities might find impossible to ignore. Two weeks ago she never would have imagined her talents might stretch that far, but now, watching the mountains come closer, she was certain there were innumerable aspects to her truthseeking, and that in time she would learn to use them all.

Lights flashed in the distance, a curve in the road hinting at a hollow and the interference the oncoming driver had warned of. Lara squinted, trying to see more clearly. aIf it goes badly, weall need a distraction. Something to let Dafydd get into the forest.a aI could always take my s.h.i.+rt off,a Kelly offered.

Lara blinked rapidly at her friend. aYou could what?a aTo distract them while Dafydd makes his getaway. You said wead need a distraction.a aOh. Oh! I didnat think Iad said that out loud. I was just thinking. They wonat be able to find you if you get into the trees, will they, Dafydd?a He said aNoa with utter confidence. aIam surprised you were able to find me earlier.a aI can see through your glamour,a Lara reminded him. aI should be able to see you when youare not hiding behind it.a aOkay, guys, here we go. Dafydd, lie back down, put your seat belt on, cover yourself as much as you can with your coat. Iall tell them youare sleeping if we get pulled over.a Dafydd did as he was told as the road straightened, leading down into the hollow theyad glimpsed. Four vehicles, three of them emergency vehicles, were spread across the road. The fourth, a compact car bleached of color in the oncoming sunrise, was half off the road, a black, indistinguishable shape of an animal sprawled across its hood. Kelly slowed the car, then slowed further, almost coming to a stop as Lara muttered, aI said they couldnat possibly have roadblocks up this far out.a aYour triumph,a Kelly said sourly, ais misplaced. It doesnat really matter if itas technically not a roadblock when itas effectively blocking the road. G.o.d, whatad they hit?a aI canat tell.a Lara leaned forward, but shook her head. It was large, at least deer-sized, but early-morning shadows and the flas.h.i.+ng lights from the emergency vehicles made it impossible to recognize. aAmbulance, forest ranger, state trooper. Two out of three ainat bad.a Kelly shot her another sharp look. aIam not handling you using idioms very well, Lara. Can you go back to being your usual literal self until weare out of this mess?a aSorry,a Lara whispered, and meant it. aI feel like someoneas taken a rubber band from around my thoughts. I never would have even thought to say atwo out of three ainat bada before now.a aWell, itas not usually true. c.r.a.p, here comes the cop. Did it have to be the cop?a Kelly put the emergency brake on and rolled down the window as Lara put her elbows on the dashboard, supporting her chin with her hands as she looked out the winds.h.i.+eld. She could see almost nothing, gaze unfocused while her heartbeat soared, but she hoped her fingers would help obscure her features. The ranger would have been less likely to have seen their images, but she was kneeling intently by the dead animal.

Kelly pitched her voice in a loud whisper, calling, aHey,a to the trooper. She made a loose finger-over-the-lips hus.h.i.+ng gesture, explaining, aMy sisteras sleeping in the backseat. Is everybody okay? Are we gonna be able to get around?a The trooperas tense expression faded and he flipped a flashlight on to glance at the backseat without really looking. aWeave got some people pretty badly banged up. I was able to let the last guy through, but the paramedics just got here. It might be a while.a aWell, getting hurt people to the hospital is probably more important than getting to Momas house for waffles before seven. Whatad they hit, a deer?a Kellyas soft voice sounded perfectly normal: concerned, polite, a little rueful. Shead been right, Lara thought; theyad needed her. Lara would never have been able to sound as casually interested, much less come up with easy lies about the sleeper in the backseat or their destination.

Tension sprang to life in the trooperas expression, barely visible from the corner of Laraas eye. aSomething big, anyway. Look, you three just sit tight and Iall wave you through as soon as I can, all right? Keep your windows rolled up. Iall knock if I need to give you any more information.a aNo problem. Thanks, Officer. I hope everybodyas all right.a Kelly rolled up the window as he walked away, then carefully put her hands on the steering wheel too low for him to see if he glanced back. Her knuckles went white in the dawning light, forearms rigid, though her face remained smooth and pleasant. aI think Iam gonna puke.a Dafydd, m.u.f.fled, said, aPlease donat. Being encased in steel is uncomfortable enough. Adding the scent of bile would be a cruelty beyond compare.a aThat was amazing,a Lara whispered. Both she and Kelly slumped in their seats, Kelly flipping her hair over one shoulder to mask her face as she looked at Lara. aReally,a Lara repeated. aI couldnat have done that. You were perfect.a aYeah, but did you see his face when I asked what they hit? aSomething biga isnat an answer. Whatas big out here you can hit? Deer? Bears? Maybe a cougar?a aThatas not a cougar. Cougars are tawny and that thingas black.a Lara dared a glance toward the damaged car. aI donat think there are any wolves out here. Maybe itas a bear.a aHe would have said if it was a bear.a aYou think itas something from my world.a Dafydd pulled his coat down, the rustling making both women start to turn before they flinched back, remembering the person in the back was supposed to be sleeping.

aI think weare too far away from any nuclear sites or chemical dumping grounds for animals to mutate into something that a cop wonat identify beyond asomething big,aa Kelly said. aSo, yeah, I think maybe something else came over with you.a aThe nightwings,a Lara said abruptly. Dafydd s.h.i.+fted like he wanted to sit up, and she reached backward without looking, searching for his hand. His fingers, still as cool as theyad been earlier, slid through hers. She squeezed, rea.s.sured and rea.s.suring. aBut how did they find us?a Kellyas gaze fixed forward. aHow did they find you at all? Lara, youave been home for weeks now. Davidas been here all along. How come those things didnat attack until this afternoon?a aThey wanted us both in the same place,a Dafydd suggested.

Kelly shook her head. aYou were in the same place when she visited you in prison.a aBut we didnat touch,a Lara said with sudden certainty. aWhen he came out of the courtroom today I hugged him. Maybe that was the trigger. What kind of spell calls the nightwings, Dafydd? Is it like the scrying spell Emyr was trying to cast? One that takes a lot of time and concentration? We were still holding hands when they attacked.a aOur enemy would have been holding it in preparation,a Dafydd said thoughtfully. aLike Iad done with the worldwalking spell, Lara. It wouldave been much less dramatic if Iad had to spend a few hours concentrating to open that door, so Iad done my preparation earlier, and held it behind the final word of the spell. Our enemy wouldnat want to risk losing our scent in the time he prepared, so he would have had it waiting.a aThen why didnat it attack the moment we touched?a Dafydd s.h.i.+fted again. aTime isnat the same in the Barrow-lands as it is here. From our enemyas point of view, it could well have been instantaneous.a Kellyas gaze dropped to their entwined fingers. She smacked them and Lara loosened hers, first insulted, then alarmed. aOw. But weave touched a lot since this afternoon, Kelly. If the nightwings were using that as a trigger, theyad have found us again by now.a aNo.a Dafydd sat up as he spoke, clearly forgetting he was meant to be sleeping. aIt would have been a spell set to trigger once, like the attack when I returned to the Barrow-lands. Setting a cascade of triggers would exhaust anyone, even my father, beyond an ability to pursue anything else. No one would risk it.a aWell, then what changed? If weare being tracked by something from your world, what pointed it towarda"a Lara broke off, staring at the staff Dafydd still held clenched across his lap. aOh, no. I broke the glamour on that, and youave been clinging to it for hours.a aThereas so much iron in your world it would be difficult to pinpoint its location,a Dafydd said. aAnd itas been in transit. But weave been on this road heading south a while now.a aAnd that thing came from the south,a Kelly finished as all three fixed gazes on the creature sprawled across the nearby car.

Sudden life twitched through it, and Lara heard her own whisper echoed by the other two: aOh, s.h.i.+t.a

Thirty-One.

Kelly braced herself, hands high on the steering wheel. aShould I rush it? A thousand pounds of metal ought to put it down for the count again, right?a aYou canat. There are too many people.a Lara got out of the car without thinking and pulled Dafyddas door open for him. Kelly let go an aggrieved yell and pushed her own door open, half standing in the driveras well.

aWhat the h.e.l.l are you doing?a aI donat know! Stay in the car!a Lara ran forward, whispering the brief exorcism she knew under her breath. It wouldnat be enough, and she cursed herself for not having memorized a longer one in the days before Dafyddas release.

He was at her side, stronger again now that he was no longer trapped in a vehicle and with the staff once again bright in his hand. Still pale, still fragile, but the sunrise did him the favor of lighting his golden eyes to fire. In that light there was no pretense of humanity about him, his hair too fine, his bone structure too delicate. Panic caught Lara under the breastbone and she hissed, aDafydd, get back in the car! You canata"a aI can hardly allow you to face that thing on your own,a he said just as softly. aYou have no weapons, no armora"a aNo way to protect you! Get back!a The trooper had looked up as soon as their car doors opened and came striding toward them in the dawning light. aIam going to have to ask you to get back into the cara"a He broke off, gaping, and an orchestra crashed raw song through Laraas mind. Too late; it was too late to hide Dafydd or herself, and if she had any doubt, it was belied by the trooper drawing his sidearm as he advanced on them. aDown on the ground, both of you!a Lara put her hands in the air, slow actions that made her vividly aware how she was disobeying the trooperas command. She poured conviction into her voice, steeling it with truth and willing the man to hear that truth. aOfficer, that thing they hit, itas dangerous and n.o.bodyas equipped to stop it. You need to get everyone out of here now.a He wavered, halting his approach but not retreating. aI said on the ground!a aGet on the ground, Dafydd. Do it,a Lara snapped, when the Seelie prince hesitated. aHeas more likely to shoot you than me. Youare male.a And exotic, she wanted to add, though she suspected the trooper would use the word aweirda instead. The creature twitching on the car hood no doubt verged on too much strangeness already. She didnat want to add to it, not when it could mean Dafyddas life.

Dafydd, reluctantly, did as he was told, lying on his belly with his hands out, though he continued to clutch the staff defiantly. The trooper scowled at him, expression barely hiding fear, then leveled his weapon at Lara again. aBoth of you!a aIam unarmed, Officer. Iam smaller than you, and Iam wearing high heels. I canat possibly rush you. Iam no danger to you at all. You know Iam telling the truth.a Laraas throat hurt from the effort of making the words true, so the officer couldnat doubt them even when he wanted to. That was power, real power: she recognized it even as she struggled to command it. aNone of us is a danger to you. That thing over there is, though.a aThat thing is dead!a aNo.a Lara spoke at the same time the ranger did, startling both herself and the officer, who shot a quick hard look toward the other official. The woman stood up, her mouth a thin grim line. aItas badly injured, but not dead. Iam going to have to aa She stepped toward her truck.

Lara, barely audible even to herself, whispered, aDonat.a The thinga"the nightwing, though it was far more ma.s.sive than the little demons theyad encountered beforea"lashed out with a limb so flexible it could have been a tentacle. But no tentacle gleamed the way this did, like it was ridged with cartilage. It seized the rangeras legs and yanked backward. She jerked to the earth, unable to catch herself, and Lara knew without seeing that the bones of her face were broken. One of the paramedics shouted and ran forward. Stupid, Lara thought, but she did it herself. She heard Dafydd scramble to his feet, and heard a shot fire, and then Kellyas scream.

Nothing else could have taken her eyes from the nightwing. Lara spun, fear gutting her as she saw Kelly fall to the ground. A misstep brought Lara low, skirt tearing as she hit the asphalt, and another tentacle lashed out, snapping through the air where her torso had been an instant earlier.

Lightning shot out of the clear morning sky and severed the tentacle. It dropped on top of her and she screamed, struggling to throw it off as it writhed and twitched and then, terribly, began to contort. Wings stretched and split from its crackling shape, then claws, then burning eyes and a mouth full of dagger-sharp teeth. Whatever horror the nightwings had become, they werenat confined to it: separated from the whole, they took on their old shapes again, and this one leapt at Lara.

Its claws sc.r.a.ped asphalt as she rolled, eyes wide and searching for weapons. There was nothing: no rocks, no branches, the modern highway system too tidy to present her with a chance for survival. The nightwing pounced a second time and she flipped onto her back, catching its throat as shead done with one of its brothers what seemed like a lifetime ago now, back in the Barrow-lands. The useless exorcism rose to her lips and was drowned beneath a shriek as the monster caught her forearm in clawed feet and raked upward, leaving deep scores in her skin. Powered by a sudden rush of pain, she flung the thing away and scrambled to her feet, determined to kick it to death if she could do nothing else.

Instead, Kelly Richards appeared above it, and rained death with a dozen sharp blows from a crowbar.

For an instant she and Lara stood facing each other, Kellyas face alight with triumph in the gold light of sunrise. Her friend was beautiful, Lara thought suddenly, beautiful with violence, beautiful like a Valkyrie, full of pa.s.sion and strength. With her hair spilling around her shoulders and a b.l.o.o.d.y crowbar in her hands, she made a convincing modern warrior woman. For an instant outside of time and thought, seeing her seize the opportunity to become someone so extraordinary was wonderful and even fun.

Then she threw Lara the crowbar and ran like h.e.l.l for the car as the trooper shouted, aPut down your weapon! Put the weapona"put the weapon down!a Lara, incensed, shouted, aShoot the G.o.dd.a.m.ned monster!a and threw herself toward the amalgamated nightwing, crowbar raised like a sword.

Some part of her recognized that she herself had become a warrior in the past few days. There was no other answer for the boldness that drove her to charge the ma.s.sive creature enveloping the car that had struck it. She was armed with a crowbar and pa.s.sion, nothing more, but the pairing proved formidable: a tentacle wrapped around the bar and she swung like a pro hitter, smas.h.i.+ng the glittering black thing against the wrecked caras door. Ichor splattered and the damaged piece fell away, beginning its terrible transformation into a nightwing, into a component piece.

Lara bashed it ruthlessly, turning it to spattered goo before it became what it had been, and swung again as another tentacle lashed at her. The thing was formless, shapeless, creating of itself what was necessary to attack, and she couldnat imagine how the ranger or the officer had thought it an animal at all. Unlessa"and it seemed possiblea"it had held some near-earth shape as it hunted, simply so it wouldnat draw attention to itself. That need was gone now: Lara and Dafydd were its prey, and the law enforcement agents and paramedics were nothing more than collateral damage.

The trooper was still torn between his enemies, clearly wanting to choose Dafydd as the comprehensible one, but too afraid of the conglomerated nightwings to ignore them. A black ma.s.s slid up behind him, threatening to end his dilemma permanently. Lara screamed and Dafydd lifted his hands, the staff held high in one and his other palm forward.

Power surged from the staff. Lightning arced around the trooper and exploded into the roiling creature of darkness. The trooper fired wildly, terrified by the lightning, then realized he hadnat been hit. He whipped around as nightwings erupted from the section of monster Dafydd attacked, and chose his side: gunfire blazed repeatedly, every shot counting as bullets buried themselves in the monster.

Dafydd dropped to one knee, visibly fading, even with the staffas support. Laraas heart caught. There was no time, not to fight the creature the way theyad been doing. The Seelie prince would die before they triumphed, and bitterly, they would likely not triumph at all should he die. For an instant that held her in place, staring fearfully at Dafydd, and then the nightwing came again in a surge of darkness and rage.

She didnat think it out clearly; didnat think it out at all, in truth, and truth was her talent, so she ought to heed it. She was surrounded, like the nightwing wanted her drawn in, and so in a spate of madness she dove forward, taking the fight to it. The truth could build a way of its own. Lara had followed such paths three times now, those stark roads of white light and irresistible power.

There had to be a spark of that brilliance buried somewhere in the nightwingsa makeup: they were creatures of dark, perhaps, but dark couldnat exist without the light.

That thought wobbled fearfully, bringing with it the image of a starlit sky, brilliant diamonds scattered through velvet night. She could imagine each of those diamonds winking out, leaving nothing but darkness behind. Terror squeezed her chest, leaving her hands clammy. There was no telling what lay in the dark, no way to protect herself when the world was only black. Perhaps it was light that couldnat exist without dark.

That thought twisted, too, turning her inner vision to nothing but blazing, pure light. It was as meaningless as the blackness: no contrast, no shadows, no color, only brilliant pain that matched the fear of darkness.

They wound together, pain and fear twining to make a world of shadows and color. Gold painted the edges of her vision, reminder of the sunrise. As if it were a guide, that soft shade made her grasp that pain and fear were part of the truth that might destroy the nightwings. She was reluctant to embrace them, but the music pounding in her ears soured as she s.h.i.+ed away. Jaw tight, she nodded acceptance, and felt her limbs go thick and numb as ugly emotion rooted inside her. They werenat comfortable, she realized abruptly, but they were necessary. Without pain, without fear, humans had little way to gauge danger; personal experience could be too deadly a cost. Somehow that made them easier to endure, and they lost a degree of their paralyzing power.

Suddenly bold, Lara thrust crescendos, pieces of who she was, of the magic she commanded, out of herself, like they were a weapon themselves. Music rushed out of her, throwing a challenge to the dark Seelie creatures that had crossed into her world.

The world roared back, an ent.i.ty of its own, alive.

Put that way, into simple and obvious terms, it rang with such truth that Lara blushed to have never noticed it before. Of course it was alive; it supported all the things that lived. But she had never imagined it to have a voice of its own, a presence and a power that threatened to overwhelm everything that she was.

It was the sound of earthquakes and waterfalls, thunder so profound she felt, more than heard, it. If it had music, it was lost to her. She staggered under its weight, then dropped to her knees and put her hands against the asphalt, trying to gather support from the same ground that threatened to drag her under.

Pain reached a crescendo, then drained away as the world searched and found her magic, the thing that had garnered its unfathomable attention. For a brief eternity Lara felt she was a mote under a microscope, turned and twisted for examination. Urgency fled as the earthas vibrations reached into her marrow, shaking it loose. It seemed to her that she belonged where she was, all but mindless, a single beacon of song and light so small as to be obliterated by the earth-storm all around her. Her sense of self was lost, a speck in the maelstrom of life, and she drifted forever.

Forever, a speck that was still Lara Jansen whispered, forever is a very long time, to immortals.

And the world, in so much as it could, laughed. Ease and recognition rolled through thunder, not reducing her awe, but at least making it a more comfortable thing to hold inside her. She belonged to this world; her strange magic was born of it, and it accepted her, though welcome was still far removed. Satisfied, it released its hold on her. Lara, trembling, bent all the way to the ground and rested her forehead there in thankful relief.

As it retreated from her awareness, she caught a glimpse of music so old, so vast, that she understood she had been on the edge of a chord for all the time shead been in communion with the planet. It belonged to a song so impossibly huge she could barely grasp that it was played at all, and she knew with a sudden, aching breathlessness that the very earth itself was no more than a single instrument in an orchestra spanning the stars.

Her hands made claws, trying to s.n.a.t.c.h the endless concerto back; trying to reach beyond the earth to grasp the melody of the moon, the sun, the planets.

It was cold, the s.p.a.ce between notes. Cold and endless, with no promise of warmth or forgiveness. The moon, dead world that it was, had a refrain of its own, but it was lost to her, lost long before she could understand it, long before she reached so far as the music of the sun. Through despair she wondered if that was perhaps for the best: surely any fraction of sound she could capture from a star would incinerate her, and yet she would have taken the risk if she could have stretched so far.

She fell back inside herself, bereft of the solar systemas song; bereft of everything but the thin tune that was her own sense of truth, and which now seemed puny in the face of what shead seen. She turned blind eyes toward the sky, aware of the heat of tears on her cheeks, and saw nothing, only felt the loss of a symphony she would never be large enough to hear. That, that was a truth of terrible proportion, and it cut her apart, releasing all the music inside her. Notes shattered outward, their edges like knives, and they lanced the darkness around her.

It came apart with a scream, with a hundred screams, as nightwings were torn asunder from one another. Lara caught her breath, a single tiny retraction of the power flooding from her.

The nightwings saw it as weakness, and struck.

Thirty-Two.

Lara felt them like the earth hadnat let her go. Wounds opened up across her skin, great bloodless slashes that rent her to the bone, for all that her eyes saw no such scours. Cramps seized her kidneys and fluttered with agonizing intent, as if her body was trying to reject a wrongness it had no understanding of. Every instinct said to curl down around her own pain, to wait it out, but the part of her that still held a fumbling grasp on intellect remembered what the nightwings were, and how to fight them. Breathless with hurt, she forced her eyes open and staggered to her feet.

New sunlight cut through the distant mountains, illuminating their hollow until it became a cup of fire. Nightwings flooded it, marring its brilliance, but even their numbers were unable to disguise how it sliced apart the world. Lara stood bathed in brilliance, and knew that the handful of men and women who fought with her looked like warriors of legend in its light.

Beyond that slash of daylight lay the rest of the world, bathed in comparative darkness and on the verge of never waking from that night. Lara knew it with a clear thunder of truth: they would defeat the nightwings here, giving all to do so, or something would tear in the fabric of her own world, and might never be mended again.

She didnat know she spoke, only heard the words linger on the brilliant sunrise: aChanges that will break the world.a As if shead called them, the nightwings came to her.

They burned bright, their once-black shadows gray with distance from their own world and reflecting pale gold with morning sunlight. It made them worse somehow, made them seem more solid and more real than they had been when shead wrestled one to the ground in the Barrow-lands.

The Barrow-lands were a place of magic, she thought, the idea unexpectedly clear in the face of demons swarming toward her. They were lands of mist and magic and insubstantiality, of illusion and impermanence. A scrying spell might open a window to another place, might permit people to speak to one another, but it lacked the physical presence of her own worldas telephones and video cameras. Those things remained, here, always ready for use, but another spell would need to be cast, another whole communications array built, for a second acalla to be placed in the Barrow-lands.

Reversed, that could mean the nightwings grew evermore material the longer they remained in her world. The short exorcism hadnat worked on them. Maybe that failure was as much an increase in their reality as the brief exorcism being only the beginning of her worldas version of a spell.

Crystal thoughts, all of them, more standing out in her mind as sudden epiphanies than as any progression of logic. The nightwings were on her, vicious screeching bats whose claws tore her dress and, she was faintly aware, her flesh as they attacked. One hit her chest-on, driving her backward, and lightning exploded from the clear morning sky yet again, rupturing the thing that attacked her.

Sudden blazing anger ate away her fear. This was her home, and she wouldnat surrender it to nighttime monsters from another world. Nightwings were ephemeral things in the Barrow-lands, but the idea that they could survive and breed in her world rang violently true. She swung with her crowbar, feeling satisfaction as it crunched into thin bone and cartilage. Somewhere nearby Kelly was shouting, the trooper was firing his weapon; somewhere there were screams, and she thought that all the nightwings hadnat come for her, after all.

Lightning split around her again, cras.h.i.+ng into the ma.s.s of demons. They fell, making a brief clear s.p.a.ce around Lara: clear of demons, clear for thoughts, and only then, finally, did she realize where the attacks were coming from. She swung around in the little s.p.a.ce of safety head made for her, voice breaking as she cried, aDafydd, no!a Too late: too late; much too late. Dafydd stood in a ring of crackling electricity. No, didnat stand. Floated, as if the air itself was so ionized it had to lift him a few centimeters above the earth. He drifted in a half-circle, staff held tight in both hands, as though he drew power from it. He did: Lara was certain of it, and doubted even its power could sustain the Seelie prince for long. His hair, his fingertips, his very breath seemed alive with voltage, and as Lara watched, another burst of power erupted from him. He sagged, strength waning, and Lara ran forward even knowing there was no more chance she could reach him than the nightwings could; the Tesla cage surrounding him was too dangerous. But there were fewer of the monsters than theread been: a few dozen now, where there had been uncountable numbers before.

It was enough, Lara whispered to herself, and willed it to be true. Dafydd had depleted their numbers enough: they could end it without his help. aDafydd, stop! Weall find a way to finish them! Stop!a Song poured off her as she shouted, conviction in her voice turning the words white with power. Dafyddas crackling electricity was puny next to her own relentless outpouring of strength; next to a determination so profound it made her courtroom demonstration seem like childas play. She spoke the truth with the will to make it real, and her world, her own thick and slow home, whose own magic was so long-muted it barely existed any more a a responded. Sluggishly, yes, but it responded, s.h.i.+fting to align itself with the command Lara laid out. Find a way to finish them. So vague, so terribly vague, but her worldas magic was so long-quiet that she felt that delicacy and fine-tuned requests would go unheeded. There was no time to cajole, not with her friends and the others losing the battle. Dafydd blazed where he hung in the air, coils of electricity still snaking toward the nightwings, but with each monsteras attack the cage that held him faltered a little. The trooper had run out of bullets and raced for his car with a swarm of nightwings after him. The paramedics, like the ranger, were down, but Kelly had a tire iron to match Laraas crowbar. She stood within the safety of the Corollaas open door, bas.h.i.+ng every nightwing that came near.

Only Lara was out in the open and still standing. The nightwings were gathering; her power, blazing though it was, only needed to miss one of them and she would fall. She could feel something still changing in the world, acquiescing to her demand, but her heartas acceleration beat a story that the world would answer too late. That was the price of old magic, of power called in a place that no longer recognized its own strength: it could only rise in its own time, and she had no time left.

She only saw it from the corner of her eye, the small gesture of Dafydd raising his head, and panic soured her stomach. She knew, she knew what he intended, because she would have done the same: would have gathered all her power to her with the same gesture he did, crossing his arms over his chest as he offered a brief, but not regretful, smile. He would burn himself out to save them, as Lara would have done in his position.

As she would have done, and in so doing, would have rendered it all meaningless.

Lara threw the crowbar at him.

Cold iron smashed into his web of lightning. Electricity crashed toward it, ionized air losing its tension. Dafydd fell, knees crumpling as he hit the earth and lost his grip on the ivory staff. The crowbar itself dropped to the ground a few feet away, not close enough to have touched him, but close enough to disrupt his power, to ensure he couldnat use the last of what sustained him and die trying to save a scattered handful of mortals.

Relief ricocheted through Laraas heart, then turned to dust as Dafydd ap Caerwyn collapsed into insensibility.

She barely knew she moved, and though she wanted to go to Dafydd, a different need sent her elsewhere: to the worldbreaking staff, lying alone and abandoned just out of Dafyddas insentient reach.

Power cascaded through her as she scooped it up, turning her body rigid with pain and excitement. The staff sang, an unholy shriek of exultation: its very purpose was chaos, and it had been bound too long by an order. Released, that power could do what she needed it to: defeat the nightwings and save Dafydd. Save her world, perhaps, and the truth of that burned through her until she lifted the staff and drove it into the earth.

The world cracked, rivulets of light slicing out from Lara and bas.h.i.+ng into the ground. She heard it more than saw it, an endless tumult of bells, as though shead been caught in a tower as the church below tolled out a greeting to the first light of morning.

Asphalt tore beneath her, a long jagged line opening up. Music poured out, rising into the sky, and the rip followed it, splitting apart earth from heaven. It rushed toward a vanis.h.i.+ng point, toward the ball of fire just over the horizon, like a road reaching for the roof of the world.

Oisnas voice danced through the music, whispering aTruth will seek the hardest path.a Lara, staring at the ripped hole in the world, thought shead never seen a path that looked harder. She jolted forward, forcing her knees to unlock. Her ankle bent to the side, a reminder that she wore strappy sandals. She scrambled forward regardless, afraid that if she paused, the shredded earth would close again, and whatever answers lay on the road before her would be gone forever.

A nightwing screeched, the sound harsh against truthas music. She swung with the staff, and the nightwing exploded on impact. Lara ducked as another flew in, and felts its claws snag at the back of her dress. She would have to start wearing st.u.r.dier clothes than her favored linens and silks if she was going to live under constant attack. Leather, at least, or perhaps Seelie armor, simply as a matter of course.

She recognized the calm, wry idea as panicas close sister, something irrelevant to focus on so her fear seemed less important. She threw herself forward, feet clumsy as she tried to clamber up the path of light and music soaring into the sky.

Shock jolted her heart as hard as the ground jolted her foot as she slammed downward through the path. Lara tumbled forward through insubstantial light, catching herself on her hands and rolling to gape in offense at the s.h.i.+ning road that wouldnat support her weight. A nightwing backwinged above her, falling like a bird of prey, and brilliant gold from the sunrise glittered just at the top of her range of vision. At least she would die with the light in her eyes, if she had to die at all.

She was looking for a phrase, a way to shape truth, to save herself, when a black-clad warrior spilled down the path of light and eviscerated the nightwing as he pa.s.sed.

Watching him, Lara knew shead never really seen someone fight before. The battle with the Unseelie had been too busy, too crowded, for her to watch any one person, and her other encounters with violencea"mercifully few, excepting the past weeka"had been either brief or laden with magic, neither of which allowed for a man with a sword to do what he did best.

He was Unseelie; he had to be, if the armor of hammered midnight meant anything. He wore a helm, obscuring his face even if his back hadnat been to her, and the blade he used was liquid gold in the sunrise. The nightwings came to him like moth to flame, drawn by a likeness or by the path of light head entered on. They came to him, and they died.

There was no pattern, but there was grace and surety of movement to their dance. He seemed to know where they would strike from, always twisting or stepping away. Flame, weak in the morning light, washed off his armor when they spat it. At that, a handful of them scattered, screaming defiance, then rushed at each other, colliding in a spatter of dark above the ruined highway.

A single creature rose up where there had been many, and others retreated to dive into its blackness. It contorted as they crashed together, gaining strength and size until it became a sinuous black serpent, winged and fork-tongued and spitting fire. Clawed feet burst out of its chest, and it coiled its tail beneath itself and used it to spring forward. Lara screamed and skittered backward, but the Unseelie warrior met the creature with a leap of his own.

They came together in a clash, armor and cartilage rattling. Fire gouted over the knightas head, the monsteras flesh absorbing his swordas blow. Absorbing in part, at least: a howling nightwing fell away and the whole of the thing became fractionally smaller. Lara, wide-eyed, sought her crowbar and found it lying almost directly beneath the conflict, alongside Dafyddas too-still body.

Sickness grabbed her belly, but she pushed onto her hands and knees, crawling forward as the battle fell to the side, both combatants requiring the earth for leverage. They struck again, metal shrieking as the giant nightwingas claws dug into armor, but a second wounded nightwing fell away. Lara closed her fingers around her crowbar and edged closer to the fight, swinging with both it and the staff when one of the smaller monsters came close. Her hands were icy, so thick she could barely feel either weapon, but she would not leave their rescuer to fight the amalgamated nightwing by himself.

He was the answer to her determination. How, she didnat know, but she had no doubt that shead called him. That the staff had torn her world asunder and ripped open a road between the Barrow-lands and here because she had spoken truth. Shead promised their little army would find a way to defeat the nightwings without paying a cost in Dafyddas life, and a chaos magic had responded. The earth still rattled and shook around them, and she no longer knew if it was the staffas work, or the battle with the nightwings.

One came too close to her and she rose up on her knees, smas.h.i.+ng it against the asphalt. Kelly, sounding miles away, let out a triumphant shout and tore toward the fight, joining Lara in crus.h.i.+ng slices of midnight the warrior hacked off the larger beast.

They were mindless, Lara thought, driven only to destroy. They werenat by nature cooperative, not from what shead seen in the earlier battles, and yet they had twice now joined together to make a single creature more dangerous than they were individually. Something had to be guiding them, using creativity and cleverness to turn many small demons into a single vast one.

She whispered aAmazing gracea and turned her gaze from the falling bits of monster to the larger one still battling the Unseelie warrior. Song settled in her blood, focusing her power to know truth, to hear it, to see it, and their master came clear.

He rode the giant nightwing, ghostly expression full of the mixed concentration and glee of a bronco rider. His features were smooth, beautiful as all the Seelie were, but looking on him made her eyes hurt, as if she was looking at something that both was and wasnat there. She dropped the crowbar and clawed her hands around the staff, trying to draw more of its strength into herself so she might see more clearly, but that, it seemed, was not one of its gifts. Only destruction, and perhaps healing. No amount of pouring herself into the song, seeking truth, would alter that.

The nightwing changed shape as she struggled to see its master more clearly. New heads sprang up as the knight cut pieces away, until it was a hydra, all heads and almost no body. Kelly still smashed the injured nightwings with her tire iron, and finally the warrior struck one head off and a new one didnat arise. A second head fell, and the rideras face contorted with rage. He glanced up, seeking escape. Lara bellowed, aNo!a with all the energy she had left, and for an instant he met her eyes and froze.

Then the hydra leaped forward, striking directly at her. Lara fell back, swinging with the staff, but the black knight was there, skewering the hydraas breast. Ichor sprayed out and another head fell before the thing dissolved into a handful of weak and broken nightwings. Kelly jumped on the closest ones, pounding them into the asphalt, and the Unseelie warrior dispatched the last two or three with less vigor, if no less thoroughly. Lara collapsed onto her elbows, wheezing with relief as their rescuer stood still a long moment, clearly searching for any further danger.

Then, breathing hard, he pulled his helm off and Ioan ap Annwn turned to offer Lara a hand up.

Thirty-Three.