I took it in.
I looked away, for much the same reason I’d looked away from Corvidae, earlier. From ‘J. P.’
It was unpleasant to consider the implications.
That Rose was shrugging off the one stipulation I’d made. That Conquest really was this much stronger.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I said.
“He’s a monster.”
“I’ve committed to the duel.”
“Stay committed. But let’s do this smart. Think less about battle plans, more about playing it smart. Give me time, let me summon more Others. We can raise the stakes, raise an army, up the strength of what I’m summoning…”
“Until you summon another Midge?” I asked. “Make another mistake with collateral damage?”
“That was one mistake,” she said. “My first summoning. Absolve me of that like I tried to absolve you of guilt for starting the contest.”
I glanced up at the tower.
“Work with me, Blake.”
“I want to,” I said, “But I’m afraid he’s going to get stronger faster than we do.”
Rose didn’t have an answer for that.
I turned away, trudging in the direction the connections were pointing.
Past a husk of a car and a patch of blood that had frozen and been nearly covered by snow.
“Let’s go find Maggie.”
■
Maggie was embroiled in a fight when we arrived.
Rose had made another call I didn’t necessarily agree with. Maggie wielded the Hyena, a gauntlet on her hand, sporting a very similar design. The gauntlet served to protect her hand from the worst of the spikes, I assumed.
Three wraiths had her cornered in a looted store. Floor to ceiling display windows had been shattered, the shelves largely cleaned out, and snow had drifted within. Maggie was nearly invisible in the gloom, prenaturally pale in the midst of it. A bit bedraggled.
Three wraiths.
Three monsters.
Rose’s creatures were stronger. As rescues went, it wasn’t a dramatic one. Two wraiths were torn apart.
Corvidae intercepted the third, a man that had burned to a crisp, apparently, gripping him by the wrists. He’d spoken something in french, and then released the spirit.
The spirit flew away as if it had a goal in mind.
I shivered a little.
“You’re alive, Thorburn,” Maggie said, when we reached her. She was bleeding, and her lips were too red.
“You’re holding my sword,” I replied.
“Our sword,” Evan corrected, hopping forward so he was clear of the folds of my scarf.
“Our sword,” I amended.
“Rose gave me permission,” Maggie said. “You were unconscious.”
“You could have asked me,” Evan said. “I could have woken up to say it wasn’t cool.”
Or, I thought, she had you go to sleep so she was free to lend out the weapon.
“How are you managing?” I asked, changing the subject. As if to make it clear what I was doing, I adjusted my scarf.
“Hoping they aren’t missing me in Jacob’s Bell,” Maggie said.
“Could really do with an explanation of how you slipped away,” I commented. “But for now, let’s talk about the contest. Sooner it’s done, sooner you can go back.”
“I’m not complaining,” Maggie said. She flashed a smile, and there was blood in the spaces between her teeth. She’d been hit.
It was disconcerting. For her to be, what, excited, while I was feeling so grim about this? So guilty?
I felt like all I was doing was suppressing my feelings.
“The perimeter?” Rose asked.
“Having a bit of trouble,” Maggie said. She wiped at her lip, and her fingers came away crimson with blood. “Things suddenly picked up about half an hour ago. I think the Lord is awake, alive and well.”
“Define a ‘bit of trouble’,” Rose said.
“I kind of failed. It might be a good idea to check upstairs. See how old Behaim is managing. Can’t really guard against attacks from all directions when you’re all on your lonesome.”
“Something slipped past you?” I asked. “They have access to Laird?”
“There’s a guard,” Maggie said, “But yeah, maybe.”
“I asked if you needed help,” Rose said.
“I didn’t when you asked, when I did need help, you weren’t available. It’s not like I can call you on a cell phone, not really.”
Two people, or a person and a vestige, struggling to do the job that we’d had a hard time doing as a group.
Two people I didn’t necessarily trust at this point.
I wanted to trust them, so much it hurt, but I had too many questions and not enough answers.
“Let’s move,” I said.
We were forced to take the stairs.
“It’s wraiths,” Maggie panted. “They don’t need to use stairs.”
I redoubled my efforts, taking stairs two at a time, leaving Maggie and the Tallowman behind.
I reached the apartment and kicked the door rather than wait for Maggie to show up with the key.
I rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and I found myself facing Laird, still in the circle.
Pauz was crouched there, grinning, his back to Laird.
Two Wraiths flanked the circle. The new Other Rose had left behind, a woman with a Glasgow smile and surgical mask pulled away from her face, lay unmoving on the ground, clutching her chest.
“Took you long enough,” Laird said.
“Laird.”
“I’ve been trying to communicate with your imp, despite the fact that you forbade him from speaking.”
Rose and Maggie caught up with us.
Rose’s eye fell on the fallen Other.
Laird held up his implement.
How?
The Wraiths had tossed the thing to him?
“Basic rule,” Laird said. “When a malevolent being is released from its binding, it goes after the one that bound it. Isn’t that right, imp?”
Pauz shrugged, but he was grinning.
“I noticed you coming,” Laird said. “I thought I’d wait for you so I could watch it happen.”
He broke the circle, flinging water across it.
Pauz was free.
Pauz took a step towards me.
Then, a moment later, Pauz was a book again, pages and cord fluttering into place, trapping him, then taking form.
Laird watched as the book hit ground.
“A bluff,” he said.
“We’re better than you think,” I said.
“So am I,” he replied.
He clicked his watch.
A moment later, he was gone.
My heart pounded.
“We lost,” Rose said. “Down one champion, your friends are out of commission…”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think this is a loss.”
She looked at me.
“Just the opposite, almost,” I said. “If we can pull this off…”
“What are you thinking?” Maggie asked.
“It’s time to test my theory on the Behaims, and make the decisive play.”