Black Heart bw-3 Read online

  You never fully realize how dark the night is when you live in a city. In Chicago there was always light coming from somewhere—a streetlamp, a traffic signal, the headlights of passing cars. There are patches of deep night in a city, but there is always relief somewhere nearby. In a forest, away from the artificial glow, there is no such relief. The sky had more stars in it than I could have imagined.

  I was slowly able to distinguish the shapes of things in shadow. Here a tree, there a rock, there the glistening water of the stream reflecting the starlight. I flexed my fingers. The sleep had restored my magic as the enchantment had dissipated.

  My stomach rumbled and I felt a powerful urge to pee. I was pregnant, and I had biological needs that had to be met. But I didn’t want to jump down and potentially attract the water creatures’ attention. If they woke up before I managed to get the sword back, I’d have to wait them out again, and who knew how long that would take?

  I peered into the darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of the sword on the ground. I thought I saw a flash of the hilt, but I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t my imagination. The sword was on the far side of the stream. I’d been able to see it from my perch in the tree when the sun was up.

  But the landscape seemed to have shifted in the dark. I wasn’t sure exactly where the sword was now. There was nothing for it. I was going to have to get closer and hunt around. At least I would be able to fly above the surface. The water creatures would not have another opportunity to grab me.

  I was about to lift off the branch when I heard something large moving through the brush. Something very large. It snorted, and I realized it was only a few feet from me. I froze. I couldn’t tell what direction the sound came from.

  The night was a place of deception, a place where predators thrived. It didn’t seem like a very good idea to fly around attracting attention, especially as it wasn’t safe to assume whatever was nearby didn’t have wings. I’d been chased by plenty of monsters that flew.

  And even if it didn’t fly, it could have giant tentacles to snatch me out of the air. No, it was best just to stay still and wait. And hope that the creature passed by me in the dark without noticing my presence.

  The creature snuffled around, knocking aside branches and brush. Heavy footsteps padded in the dirt. It felt like the air was getting hotter, getting heavier. It smelled smoky, like the remains of a charcoal barbecue that had burned out. The creature scraped against the tree that I sat in, and the whole thing trembled.

  I grabbed the branch with both hands so I wouldn’t fall on top of the thing’s back. I could just make out a broad expanse topped with a ridge of triangular scales.

  A stegosaur? I thought. Nathaniel, just where in hell did you send me?

  The animal continued past the tree, and it seemed to go on forever. Whatever it was, it was a lot bigger than the skeleton of the stegosaur at the Field Museum.

  I stayed still and tried to breathe quietly. I was up pretty high, at least twenty feet off the ground, but I could have reached out and touched the tip of the creature’s scales. I didn’t want to tangle with anything this size. I didn’t want to engage in another battle if I didn’t have to.

  Truth be told, I was getting pretty damned sick of fighting. I wasn’t the kind to run, but I was starting to feel like there had to be more to life than bludgeoning things. The gigantic creature’s tail dragged in the dirt, and it was finally past me.

  Unfortunately it headed directly for the stream. I wasn’t getting my sword back as long as this thing was hanging around.

  The gigantic animal stopped moving. Had it smelled me? I tensed, ready to fly away and come back for the sword later.

  The night was lit by a burst of flame. Something squealed in pain, and the air filled with the acrid scent of burning flesh. I was deeply grateful that I hadn’t tried to fly away when I heard the creature in the forest. The burst of flame had illuminated the creature’s head, and I now knew that it would be able to catch me whether I was in the air or on land.

  It was a dragon.

  The dragon crunched noisily on its crispy prize. Bones cracked and muscle squished as it ate. Instead of making me sick, I was reminded of my own hunger, which had not yet been addressed.

  The creature seemed to take forever to eat. I hoped that it wouldn’t decide to nap there by the stream, because my bladder was starting to protest. After a very long while, the dragon finally lumbered to the stream and took a long drink.

  I heard it slurping and wondered whether the water would enchant the dragon as it had me. Apparently not, because a few moments later the dragon beat its heavy wings and soared into the starry night.

  I jumped down from the tree, using my wings to drift to the ground, and attended to my needs with great relief. Soon the baby would start pressing on my bladder all the time. I wondered how that would affect my ability to deal with the almost-daily threats to my life. I didn’t think any of my mortal enemies would stop trying to kill me just because I said, “Hang on. I’ve got to pee.”

  And mortal enemies I had aplenty. Titania, the High Queen of Faerie, ranked number one right now, but Focalor was still lurking around somewhere waiting for his chance to strike. Focalor had gone to the trouble of helping my father, Azazel, rebel against Lucifer. He’d kidnapped and tortured Gabriel once and tried to sell my bodyguard to Amarantha as a stud. And he’d tried to have me killed many times over. There was no way he was going to just forget about me, not when I was instrumental in making sure he did not get what he wanted.

  Amarantha had proved a tenacious foe despite the fact that I had already killed her once. And surely the vampires would be sending assassins my way soon in vengeance for the complete and utter destruction of their brethren at my hands—which had been caught on live television.

  Then there was the pending problem of Lucifer’s new progeny, conceived in death and currently growing inside Evangeline’s belly. Now that Alerian had risen, it seemed the millenniums-old power struggle between Lucifer, Puck, Alerian and their mysterious fourth brother was starting anew.

  You didn’t need to be a seer to know that Evangeline’s child was going to be a factor—or that Puck and Lucifer were going to do everything they could to drag Nathaniel and me into this mess.

  All of that didn’t even take the Retrievers into account, which were the reason why I was in the middle of a jungle on an alien world trying to avoid getting eaten by a dragon or drowned by malicious water sprites.

  When I ran down the list like that, it was hard not to feel depressed. And my group of friends had shrunk rapidly. No matter how magically powerful I became, it was still a lot nicer to know that I had my super team at my back. Now I didn’t have a team at all.

  Well, hanging around here won’t solve anything, I thought. I was going back. I’d take my chances with the Retrievers and the Agency. Maybe Lucifer would even show up and throw his weight around for a change. That would be nice.

  I was hardly the helpless princess in a tower, but it would be refreshing if someone else rode to the rescue once in a while.

  I realized I was standing under a tree in the dark, woolgathering. It would be a fine thing if I was attacked because I was spacing out instead of getting on with my business.

  I flapped my wings, ascending high enough to be out of the reach of the grasping water creatures. I flew over the stream, landing on the far side, looking for the glint of metal in the darkness. I didn’t see it.

  Maybe I’d miscalculated. Maybe the sword was a little farther up- or downstream. I was leery of getting too close to the water. I didn’t know whether the sprites woke up only if you drank from the stream, or whether they lay in wait for anyone who approached. It didn’t seem smart to risk it, but my memory told me the sword was pretty close to the water. If I wanted it, I’d have to get closer.

  I crept cautiously toward the flowing water, and almost immediately felt an overwhelming urge to drink it again. I slid backward in the dirt, and the impulse passed. Interesting. Th
e stream exerted a pull on anyone who had drunk from it before, so that if by chance the sprites’ victim escaped, they would not be able to do so again. I hadn’t experienced the same compulsion when I was flying, so the enchantment was probably limited to the ground close to the stream. I lifted up again and approached the stream as before. I felt like myself, no pull to drink water that would try to kill me.

  Ha! I thought. At least I’d managed to outsmart at least one trap. A second later my elation faded. I’d seen the gleam of the sword in the darkness.

  It was in the water.

  2

  I MUST HAVE BEEN BORN UNDER THE UNLUCKIEST star there ever was. I couldn’t even drop a sword in the dirt without its retrieval turning into a minor saga. The blade flashed as the water ran over it, so tantalizingly close. But I knew as sure as I knew my own name that if I put one fingertip in there, the sprites would be upon me.

  I floated back to the shore and settled down in the dirt, just out of reach of the spell. I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared hard at the stream, willing a solution to present itself.

  Everything went blurry, and I wiped the tears out of my eyes. I figured I had a right to cry. I had been hounded out of my home. I was hungry, tired and pregnant. And I wanted my sword back.

  That sword had saved my life in the Maze, and countless times after. And if I left it here, it would be gone forever, because I was most definitely not coming back to this place again.

  There had to be a magical solution that didn’t involve putting my hand in the water. I had already tried and failed to draw the blade toward me like Thor calling Mjolnir.

  My skill as a firestarter was completely useless against water. The truth was I’d never learned to do much with my power except smash obstacles in my way.

  Think like Lucifer would. There was both danger and wisdom in such a thought. Lucifer was a master of subtlety, a trait that I did not seem to possess. Subtle magic did seem to be required here.

  On the other hand, thinking like Lucifer even for a moment opened a door that I wasn’t sure I could close again later.

  You could just leave the sword and go home. It’s just a piece of metal. Maybe Lucifer will have another one made for you, this time with an auto-return feature.

  That hardly seemed likely. Lucifer had put a bit of himself inside that sword, and he had done that for a reason. He certainly wouldn’t give any part of his power away again, especially not with Evangeline leaning over his shoulder.

  My many-greats-grandmother bore no love for me. She doubtless felt even less kindly toward me now that she had lost both her eyes and one arm as the price for passing from the dead back to the living. Despite the fact that the price had been set by the universe and not by me, I was sure to get blamed for this. I always get blamed for such things.

  No, I couldn’t leave the sword behind. It was more than a bit of metal. It was a powerful magical object. More than that, it was mine. I didn’t easily give up anything that was mine.

  And the idea of being defeated by a bunch of sneaky water monsters did not sit well with me at all.

  Grabbing the sword out of the water was out of the question. But what if I moved the water? Could I even do that? The enchantment on the stream was very strong. If I tried to shift the water, it would probably fight back. Still, it wasn’t as if I were trying to divert the whole body. I just wanted to move the water around the sword so I could safely grab it without being grabbed myself.

  Trouble was, I’d never tried to do this kind of magic. I wasn’t really sure where to start.

  Think subtle. Think like you did when you exorcised Amarantha from J.B.

  That had definitely been a delicate magic. I’d had to get Amarantha out without killing J.B. It had been difficult, but I’d been under pressure. So I hadn’t really thought about how to do it. I just did it.

  Now I was dawdling. I knew I was. I even knew why.

  I’d honestly grown so accustomed to succeeding that I didn’t know how to fail. I didn’t know what other option I had except to leave the sword behind if this didn’t work.

  I stood up, took a deep breath and flew into the air. I positioned myself above the water, well out of the reach of any water creatures that might rise up. I hoped. There was always the possibility that the sprites could spray out of the surface like a giant fountain.

  I reached for my power and it surged up, the way it always did, like a massive tidal wave. Except this time I didn’t have a plan for it, or a place to go. My body was suffused with magic, magic that tingled on my skin and arced across my fingertips. I imagined that magic as an invisible force that poured steadily from my hands.

  The moon had risen, drenching the sky and the landscape with blue-white light. I opened my palms, directing the spell at the water around the sword.

  As soon as the magic hit the surface, the creatures exploded out of the water, hissing, their hands grasping for me. When they saw how high I was they gave off strange watery growls. I pushed the spell harder, into the face of the creature nearest to the sword. It flinched and covered its face for a moment with its hands, but this was not enough to make it leave. The spell didn’t seem to do more than irritate it.

  I wanted to just break the ground open and send the water into a chasm. That was more my style. But there were doubtless numerous animals that depended on the stream for water, and I didn’t want to cause an ecological disaster. I just wanted to get my sword and go home.

  I pushed the magic again, with more force, and a strange thing happened. I was aiming for the mass of creatures huddled around the sword. The magic bounced off the group, seemingly without affecting them at all. The spell spun sideways, hit the bank of the stream, and caused several clumps of dirt to tumble into the water.

  The sprites gave a sharp cry as one, holding on to their heads. I was going about this the wrong way, apparently. The creatures must draw their power from the bank of the stream, not the stream itself. Or maybe they did draw power from the water, and the presence of dry land was like kryptonite. Either way, I could stop messing around with the water. Which was good, because I wasn’t making much headway in that arena.

  I shifted position so that I was closer to the shore, and sent a full blast of nightfire into the land that ran along the lip of the stream. It exploded in a very satisfying way, raining earth over the water creatures.

  As soon as the dirt splattered over them, steam rose from the creatures’ bodies at the points of impact. They screeched at me, the sounds horrible in my ears. Their voices were like pieces of broken glass grating together. I hit the bank with more nightfire, keeping up a continuous stream so that the creatures were pummeled over and over.

  They screamed, they howled, they gnashed their watery jaws together, but they would not yield. These creatures didn’t know me. I never gave up, not in an argument with Beezle or a battle against a more powerful foe. And I was pissed. And hungry. And thirsty.

  All of those things were merging inside me as white-hot anger. I just wanted my sword back. It didn’t have to be this difficult. How much more pain could these creatures take? When would they give up? When would they give in?

  I was so busy working myself into a fury that I didn’t notice that most of the creatures were gone. Only one remained, hovering over the sword like a possessive spirit, refusing to let go despite the fact that it was obviously in extreme pain.

  Now it was really down to a battle of wills. But I would win. I could feel it. I could taste it.

  The more dirt I blasted at the creature, the more of its body was eaten away. After a while it was a gross, distorted version of itself. It looked like a Dalí painting, its limbs elongated. Huge chunks were missing from its head and torso.

  I dropped my arms for a moment, overwhelmed by a strange pity for this pathetic thing. It was like a broken insect, a daddy longlegs that had its legs pulled off by some cruel child and was left with nothing but its body, quivering and crippled on the ground.

  “Let go,” I
said.

  The creatures hissed at me in response.

  “Let go,” I repeated. My anger had faded, and I’d lost my appetite for punishment. I didn’t want to hurt it anymore. I just wanted it to leave.

  The creature rose up in response, showed me the full extent of the damage I’d done. It lifted its head in obvious pride, daring me to continue. But it would not leave, and I had started this, so I had to see it through.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and let my power flow.

  The creature kept its head up and its body straight even as the structure of it disintegrated around him. After a while I couldn’t see it clearly anymore. My tears flowed too hard and too fast.

  Finally, it was done. The creatures were gone. Whether I’d killed them or I’d frightened them away was irrelevant. I’d won. I flew down to the surface of the water, plunged my hand beneath it, and pulled out the sword.

  “Yay for me,” I said sadly.

  I touched down on the ground well away from the stream and prepared to open a portal home. At least the Retrievers were a known quantity. Here I could end up fighting who knew what freaky thing.

  And really, Lucifer could help for a change. Surely he wouldn’t want his precious unborn grandchild to be taken by the Retrievers. Or maybe he did. Maybe it was part of some grand design of his. I wasn’t going to pretend to understand Lucifer. If I started thinking Lucifer’s actions made sense, then it was probably a bad sign.

  I summoned up the energy necessary for a portal, concentrated on my destination and reached for the fabric of space and time.

  When a portal is created, a seam is torn in that fabric. I’d never understood how to do this until I’d come completely into my powers. Now it seemed like a simple thing. Think of destination, carve a path home. Easy.

  Except that when I tried to create that path, the world resisted. There was no other word for it. There was no space for me to cut a seam.