Black Heart bw-3 Page 9

  “No,” I said angrily, wiping my face with my sleeve. I was covered in sweat. It poured from me like I’d just run a very long distance. “I don’t need to breathe. I need for this damned noise to stop. I need it to stop.”

  I scrunched up my eyes, covered my ears, but it was still there, inside me.

  “Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop,” I said.

  Litarian closed his arms around me. “You stop,” he said insistently. “Relax. Breathe. The Cimice will make you insane if you allow them to do so.”

  I kicked at him, flailed, but he was strong, much stronger than he seemed, and he held me fast.

  “Breathe,” he repeated. “Breathe with me.”

  The low, steady insistence of his voice was finally breaking through the haze of madness. I tried to push away the noise, to focus on the steady rhythm of his inhalations and exhalations. I let my breath go, let it fall into the same pattern as his.

  The buzzing of the Cimice continued, but it receded from my body. My nerves felt scraped raw. I was a hollow thing, ready to be born anew.

  I opened my eyes and looked into Litarian’s—and saw what he had tried to hide.

  “You!” I said, wrenching myself from his embrace as Litarian’s green eyes bled blue—the merry sapphire blue of Puck.

  “Are you not pleased to see me?” he said, grinning.

  I punched him in the face.

  Last time I’d hit Puck, he had tried to strangle me to death. This time he was so pleased with his trick that he just shook off my blow, still smiling.

  “I’d have thought you’d be pleased to see a family member in this strange place.”

  “What the hell are you doing here pretending to be a faerie?” I demanded. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Chicago with Alerian and Lucifer?”

  I had a sudden thought that chilled me to the bone. “Oh, gods above and below. You didn’t let him take over the city, did you?”

  “So many questions. Which to answer first?” Puck said, tapping his finger on his chin.

  “I don’t care which you answer first so long as you do answer,” I growled. “Are you the reason I’m here in this thrice-forsaken place?”

  “I may have given dear Nathaniel a little nudge,” Puck acknowledged. “Although when I did so I didn’t realize the dragon was here.”

  “What’s the dragon got to do with anything?” I said, my mind generating more questions before he could answer the first ones. “Have you been here all along, playing the part of Litarian? Or is that just something new for me? Does Batarian know who you really are?”

  Puck held up his hands. “I will tell you all.”

  “I doubt that very much,” I muttered. “But you will answer my questions.”

  “Or what?” Puck asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “We both know you can’t kill me.”

  “I won’t,” I said. “I’ll call the dragon to me.”

  It was a calculated risk. I was pretty sure that the panic I’d seen in Puck’s eyes was real when we had sensed the presence of the dragon.

  It was very satisfying to see him pale a little, even though he was careful to maintain his expression of merriment. “Ah, well, it suits me to satisfy your curiosity in any case,” he said offhandedly.

  But I had seen, and I knew. Puck was afraid of the dragon. I would find out why. But not yet. First I wanted to know why I was here, and why he was here, and what web he was spinning.

  “So start talking,” I said.

  “And where shall I begin?” he asked.

  “Tell me why you pushed Nathaniel into sending me here,” I said. I’m sorry for doubting you, Nathaniel.

  Puck feigned a look of surprise. “Why, to protect you from the Retrievers, of course. I knew they had no dominion here.”

  “Where is here, anyway?”

  “A planet that is light-years from yours, in time and space. Long ago a war was waged here between Lucifer’s armies and the fae that live here. Lucifer won, but he did not particularly care to keep the spoils. He simply wished to prove that he could win, that he was stronger than his opponent.”

  This last was said with no small amount of bitterness. I sensed that Puck had been on the losing end of more than a few conflicts with his brother.

  “After the war, Lucifer graciously agreed to leave this land to those he had defeated. He told them that as punishment for their defiance against him, they would not be able to pass freely from world to world, that they would be confined to this place always. He also told them that he closed all the portals between this and other worlds, so that none may enter or leave.”

  “But he lied,” I said, thinking of the portal across the ocean.

  “Yes, he does that,” Puck said. “He wanted to ensure that he had a way in and out if he needed it.”

  “But why?” I asked. “What could he possibly want from such an out-of-the-way place, from a people he’d already defeated?”

  “As you might say, do not ask me to explain what he is thinking,” Puck said. “And it was of no concern to me if he chose to have a bolt-hole on this planet. At least, it was of no concern until Titania chose this place as the launchpad for her invasion of Earth.”

  “Titania,” I said. “I should have known.”

  “Yes, you probably should have,” Puck agreed. “At any rate, once Titania chose this world, I felt it was a good idea if I were on the spot, as it were. Monitoring the situation. Since Lucifer closed the borders of this world, he might take Titania’s decision to open a portal here as an act of aggression.”

  “So you—what? Presented yourself to Batarian as his long-lost son?”

  Puck’s eyes twinkled. “Not exactly.”

  Mine narrowed. “How was it, exactly, then?”

  Puck shrugged. “I gave Batarian and all of his people a memory of Litarian. A memory that told them he was always here.”

  “And how do you explain your absences to Batarian when you must attend to Titania?”

  “I don’t have to. When I am here, they remember me as though I were always here. When I am gone, the memory of Litarian fades without a trace. I established the spell as such so that if I am unable to return, Batarian would not be haunted by the memory of a lost son.”

  “Very thoughtful of you,” I said sourly.

  I was very disturbed by the depth and breadth of Puck’s power. That kind of spell took more than strength. It took subtlety. It would also need safeguards built in so that the magic would continue even if Puck were not there to maintain it. I knew Lucifer and his brothers were strong, that their power was almost beyond comprehension. But it was one thing to know that, and quite another to be confronted with the proof of it.

  “Yes, I am thoughtful,” Puck said in response to my comment. He sounded perfectly sincere.

  “Does Titania know you’re here?” I asked.

  Puck shook his head. “My queen does not monitor my every move.”

  “Are you sure about that? If I were Titania, I would definitely keep a close eye on you.”

  “I am certain,” Puck replied with a touch of arrogance. “Powerful the faerie queen may be, but she is not yet as powerful as I.”

  And yet you pretend to be her inferior. Why? I had always wondered about this, but now was not the time to try to get the answer.

  “Okay,” I said. “Titania is using the Cimice to do what? Take over Chicago? Claim dominion over the Earth?”

  “Those are side benefits. If she releases an army on your planet, it would be tantamount to declaring war on Lucifer, as my brother believes that world belongs to him.”

  “Then why do it? Does she think she can defeat Lucifer with the Cimice?”

  “Yes, she does,” Puck said.

  I stared at him. “But she’s wrong.”

  “I know,” Puck said.

  “And if she brings her armies against Lucifer and he chooses to retaliate—”

  “He will,” Puck interjected.

  “Then there will be nothing left of the planet,” I
said.

  “Precisely,” Puck said. “Which is exactly why I brought you here.”

  “And what am I supposed to do?” I said.

  “Just what you intended to do when you thought I was Litarian,” Puck said. “Destroy the Cimice.”

  “First of all, if you’re here, why can’t you do it yourself?” I asked. “And second of all, won’t Titania be pissed if she finds out you screwed up her plans? And finally, since when do you care if humanity is destroyed?”

  “I like people,” Puck said lightly. “Existence was so much more fun once you came along.”

  “That’s only part of an answer,” I said.

  Puck sighed theatrically. “Oh, Madeline, you know me so well.”

  “Why?” I repeated.

  Puck tapped the tip of my nose with his finger. “What if I said it doesn’t suit my purpose to have the two of them at war just yet?”

  “That, I would believe,” I said, although I didn’t like to think about what would happen once he did decide it would suit his purpose. Puck might think the world was more fun with humans in it, but if he could harm his brother, then people had just better watch out for the cross fire. Puck would certainly not be looking out for them.

  No, that’s your job. It was a little startling to think of myself in those terms, to consider that I might really be all that was standing between the monsters and civilized society. Especially since the civilized society seemed perfectly willing to throw me to the wolves to protect themselves, as was demonstrated when a bunch of kids had tried to turn me in to Therion’s vampire authority.

  I realized Puck was watching me with a knowing look. I wondered how much of my thoughts he could read on my face. Then I decided I was better off not knowing. It would be nice to at least have the illusion of privacy in my own mind, especially since Lucifer and Puck and all of their brethren had infected every other corner of my life.

  “So?” I said. “How come you need me to hammer the Cimice when you have more than enough power to do it yourself?”

  “It’s better if I don’t make grand gestures,” Puck said. “It tends to draw unwanted attention.”

  “And it doesn’t draw unwanted attention when I do it?” I asked.

  “Well, yes, it might,” Puck admitted. “But when you do it, ancient beings don’t construe your actions as an act of war. They just think you’re flying off the handle—again.”

  “So lovely to know my reputation precedes me,” I said.

  Puck grinned. “It does. It really, really does.”

  “And what will happen to you if Titania finds out you’ve thwarted her?” I asked.

  “She won’t find out,” Puck said.

  I didn’t know whether it was extreme arrogance or that he had a fail-safe in place, but he seemed supremely confident that Titania would not discover his machinations. Fine. It had nothing to do with me, anyway. It was none of my business what happened to Puck, and I had no desire to make it my business. I had enough on my plate.

  “Will you continue on with me now and eliminate the threat posed by the Cimice?” Puck asked.

  I was angry that Puck had manipulated both Nathaniel and me, but I was going to help him anyway and Puck knew it. There was no way I could allow Titania to set the Cimice on my city.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and started forward again. And stopped.

  The buzzing of the Cimice had ceased. Good for my sanity, sure, but possibly bad news otherwise. I dropped a veil over myself. Beside me, Puck did the same.

  “Can you see me even when I’m veiled?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Fine,” I said. “Stay close to me, because I can’t see you.”

  “Will do,” he said.

  It sounded so strange to hear modern phrases coming out of the mouth of such an old creature, but both Puck and Lucifer were much more attuned to the modern world than most ancient things. All the faerie pretty much seemed trapped in the fifth century.

  I continued moving through the forest in the direction the noise had come from. I assumed Puck would put me right if I strayed too far in the wrong direction. That was, if he hadn’t just decided to trip off somewhere and leave me for his own amusement.

  I wanted to ask whether he was nearby, but I didn’t want him to think I was needy.

  “I’m right here,” Puck said, touching my right shoulder.

  “Can you read my mind?” I asked suspiciously.

  “No,” Puck said, laughter in his voice. “But in some ways you are very predictable.”

  I didn’t respond to that. On one hand, it was definitely good news that Puck was not a mind reader. On the other hand, it stung my pride a little to think that anything I ever did was predictable.

  The barren forest slowly gave way to tumbled boulders as a series of high, rocky peaks rose before us. I had not seen or even detected any sign of life since our brief encounter with the dragon.

  “How much farther?” I asked as we started to climb. “Can’t we fly?”

  “It’s better if we don’t,” Puck said.

  “Because of the Cimice?” I asked. “I didn’t think they could fly.”

  “They can’t,” Puck said briefly, and then he did not elaborate any further.

  Which made me think of the dragon, and wonder again why my uncle was so determinedly hiding from this creature.

  The climb fatigued me very quickly. I had yet again traveled very far with little sustenance, and my body was devoting all its resources to my growing baby. I was sure now that I was getting thin despite the swelling in my abdomen. My pants were getting looser almost by the minute.

  After a while I stopped, leaning against a large rock and panting, my face soaked with sweat. “Look, I can’t take much more of this without food. We’re going to have to take our chances in the air.”

  “We can’t,” Puck said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  I felt his arm go around me, lifting me up so I could lean against him.

  “It’s just a little farther,” he said.

  “Yeah, but what kind of shape am I going to be in when I get there? What if I can’t destroy them all?”

  “You will have the strength to do what is necessary when the time comes,” Puck said. “You always do.”

  We were both silent for a few moments. I focused on just putting one foot in front of the other, trying to conserve my energy for what lay ahead.

  “You’re so like him, you know,” Puck said, and there was a mixture of tenderness and bitterness in his voice. I knew that the “him” Puck referred to was Lucifer. “Are you sure he’s not your father?”

  “Don’t even joke about it,” I said fervently. “Besides, don’t you think he would have laid claim to me if he were my father?”

  “Probably,” Puck said. “He does brag about you with annoying regularity. It’s quite sickening, actually. I’m sure he would love to be able to claim you were his child instead of his granddaughter.”

  “When is Lucifer talking about me with you?” I asked. “I thought the two of you could barely stand to be in the same room together.”

  “We can barely stand to be in the same galaxy together, to tell the truth,” Puck said. “And despite all that, we do communicate regularly.”

  He said this with all of the relish of a person describing a trip to the dentist. I gave a short laugh.

  “At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t cherish my family ties.”

  “The truth is, the only being who has ever actively desired my brother’s company is Evangeline,” Puck said. “Which is probably why he was unable to let her go, even in death.”

  “What about all of the other women who bore him children?” I asked.

  “Oh, he can—and does—seduce. And those women will want him, at least for a little while. But sooner or later my brother’s true nature will reveal itself. And once it does, his conquests usually flee screaming. That is, if they haven’t already been killed for some minor slight against his lord
and majesty. But only after the baby is born, of course. He always makes sure to take the children.”

  It was sickening to think of Lucifer using and abusing scores of women as nothing more than broodmares. And I knew that if given sufficient opportunity, he would lay claim to all life on Earth, would declare himself emperor and demand fealty from all.

  But a part of me, a very small part of me, felt sorry for him. No one had ever loved him except one lone, crazy girl. Even his own family couldn’t stand the sight of him. Had lack of affection created the monster, or had his monstrosity ensured he would never be loved?

  Of course, Puck and Alerian weren’t exactly lovable, either. There was a warmth and charm present in Puck that wasn’t in the other two, but I knew there were hidden depths in Puck. I’d seen just a hint of them, but they were there. I would no more trifle with Puck than I would with Lucifer. And my brief encounter with Alerian had terrified me. I didn’t even want to meet brother number four, who was apparently so frightening that the other three left him to his own devices as much as possible.

  I was so busy thinking of all of this that I didn’t notice I was feeling better until Puck dropped his arm, saying, “You should be able to walk under your own steam now.”

  I was suddenly aware of the fact that I felt warm and well rested, like I’d just had a nap and a big cup of hot chocolate.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “No need to sound so accusing,” Puck said mildly. “All I did was give you a little boost, so that you would not feel quite so tired. I can do that because we share blood.”

  “You didn’t do anything permanent?”

  “Like what?” Puck said.

  My mind conjured up a lot of possibilities, starting with his magic harming my unborn son and finishing with Puck planting some kind of time bomb inside me that would force me to do his will at some later date. But I didn’t say any of that out loud. I didn’t want to give him any ideas. Instead, I zeroed in on his non-answer.

  “I noticed you didn’t actually say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Did you leave a permanent mark on me?”

  “Not in the way you are thinking,” Puck said after a long pause. “I cannot force you to do anything you do not wish to do. Lucifer’s power over you as Hound of the Hunt is too strong, and would take precedence. Likewise would I be unable to harm your child.”