Into the streets of Toronto, no less. I’d been fucking told that I was going to Hell, or some place equivalent to it.
“Ignoble,” Isadora said.
“I think so,” Rose replied.
I heard Isadora sigh, and it was another sound that was big.
Then I heard her speak. “Conquest, I request your presence, and swear no harm to you or yours so long as no harm is meant for me in turn.”
I could feel him arrive.
It was like a weight on my chest, being deep enough underwater to feel the water pressing in on me, knowing full well how far away the surface was.
“I take it this isn’t a gift?” Conquest asked.
“No,” Isadora said.
Rose spoke up, “As gifts go, it would be a weak one. Finishing him off, when the victory is undeserved, it would look bad, wouldn’t it?”
“Be careful, Rose Thorburn,” Conquest intoned. “You aren’t as safe as you think you are. Curb the undeserved arrogance.”
“She’s right,” Isadora said. “This isn’t your victory.”
“It would be if you were acting out of fear or loyalty to me. The power I exert by sheer presence is still power.”
“It’s neither. My only motivation was the balance. This isn’t your victory.”
“No need to say it a third time,” Conquest said. “You’re helping them.”
“I am.”
“How unusually shortsighted, Isadora.”
“I’m helping you as well, Conquest.”
“Playing both sides,” Maggie said, from the periphery.
“But she’s not playing them against the other,” Rose said. “As I see it, if I can speak for Blake, there’s no grudge to be had.”
I didn’t see or hear the response to that. There was only silence and the darkness beneath my eyelids.
Rose was cornering Conquest. If she absolved Isadora of guilt, Conquest could only look petty if he sought retribution.
“Your role here is done, Isadora,” Conquest said. “You’ll answer for any further interference.”
“I understand.”
“That was not the answer I wanted to hear, daughter of Phix. The appropriate response would have been a promise to refrain from anything further.”
“I can’t, and you know I can’t.”
“That you will answer for.”
“Yes, I probably will.”
He’d wanted retribution, and he’d forced answers out of her until he had one he could punish her for.
I supposed Rose’s manipulations weren’t that effective.
I felt Conquest approach. My eyes remained closed.
“I could end him now,” Conquest mused, “And the situation would be handled.”
“Two-” Rose started to speak.
“Silence,” Conquest intoned.
I was aware that the other foes were drawing nearer. The wraiths, the Eye… only the astrologer’s construct remained in place.
“I’m not under your sway,” Rose said. “You can’t use the chain to stop me, I-”
“You can do as humans have done since they grubbed in dirt and wore furs,” Conquest said. His words had a danger to them, an implicit threat. “Recognize that I have the power to destroy something you value, and be silent.”
Nobody spoke in the silence that followed.
“Blake Thorburn,” Conquest said. “I grow tired of this. One of your champions has been claimed by Death, someone precious to you is on the way there, and the younger Rose Thorburn has informed me that you have nothing good waiting for you on the other side.”
I didn’t move.
He continued, “Do you wish to keep fighting, or shall I save them and save you? Those close to you can resume their ordinary lives. I can allow you to visit them when you’ve served me well. Your familiar, even, can carry on. Servitude under me might be unpleasant, but it stands far and above what waits for you and your family on the other side.”
If my body wasn’t already nearly frozen, I might have felt my blood run cold at that.
Alexis. My family. Rose. Even Evan.
“If you can’t bend the knee and form the words, look up at me from that sidewalk, meet my eyes, and blink once. I will take it as communication of surrender.”
If he killed me, he was only finishing the job.
If I surrendered, he could take more credit for that, it was power to him.
It was the easiest way out.
I raised my eyes to look at him. He wore a monstrous guise, his skin stretched into a macabre expression, his white beard short beneath bared teeth, a false halo mounted to his shoulderblades, his skin folded and stretched to form an elaborate coat or robe with a high collar, inlaid with piercings that doubled as embroidery.
His eyes were white from corner to corner, but there was a sheen to them that made his gaze look more dangerous than blind.
His rictus grin stretched just a fraction wider.
I didn’t blink.
“Three…” I said. “Three days.”
“Three days?”
“And I hope… to be well enough… to fight you,” I said. “Three days recovery… you can say killing me was your doing.”
I didn’t get any further. Darkness crawled in around the edges of my vision.
■
The bridge stood unfinished. A massive construction, aimed at nowhere. Rebar and girders stuck out of concrete, spearing out toward water and sky.
Evan flew by, rising, turning, then plunging.
Falling as far as he could before he had to pull up and turn away from the ground.
The sun shone through intermittent dark clouds, casting the world in patches of bright light and deep shadow. The rain that came down was a light drizzle, warm on my skin. The handlebar of my bike was warm to the touch, heated by the sun.
My arms were bare, my tattoos free of scarring, but the branches and birds had doubled in number.
The landscape behind the bridge was cliff and hill, thick with trees and roads, reminiscent of a puzzle with some of the wrong pieces in spots, where the clouds created swathes of shadow. The cliffs were high enough and the clouds low enough that the tops of the cliffs disappeared into the haze.
Evan rose again. “It’s like a rollercoaster! Watch!”
I watched. I could even reach out and experience what he experienced, the rush.
I didn’t flinch as he careened within an inch of the water’s surface, barely a speck, he was so far below me. If he had hit, I might have suffered the same pain, and I might have fallen from the bridge.
But he didn’t, I hadn’t, and I smiled a bit at his excitement as he took an inefficient, winding route back up.
When I drew in a breath, the air was oxygenated in a way you never had in the city. All these trees, the fresh air, the lack of pollution… the simple act of breathing invigorated. I felt at ease in a way I’d sought for a long, long time.
Just a touch lonely, but I’d reconciled myself to the fact that I might never have human company and really feel comfortable at the same time. Even before I’d been homeless, that possibility had been taken from me by the endless bickering and hostility that was home and family. I cherished Alexis and my friends, but as much as they nourished and validated me, even they took as much as they gave.