Precious minutes slipped away while we prepared a rescue mission, and each delay, whether it was spent getting dressed or scouring our belongings for weapons that might give us an advantage, felt intentional, as though I was sacrificing Rachel on the altar of my fear. In the end, we climbed into the Jeep with nothing more than a sense of impending doom and the Fferyn. Becca had grabbed the staff, reasoning that the aftermath of any fight with my father would probably require healing.
I tried calling Miss Gold but had to leave a message, and settled for thankingher for everything she'd done. Amy called Finn on my behalf to tell her about our fool's errand, but she didn't pick up either. Notifying our benefactors was a courtesy at best, since even a horde of Fae couldn't stand against my father without horrifying risks. Those that didn't succumb to his malevolent influence were subject to his increased strength, and those powerful enough to hurt him would be exposed to his blood, a threat so potent it had served as his armor for decades.
We had no right to count on our allies in any case. Finn was clever, but the smartassery of a four-foot-ten fox-girl wouldn't add much to that fight. She went out of her way to shield her crew from me, which meant none of them could stand for long against my dad. Despite her apparent strength, Miss Gold must have had good reasons for not ending him in the long years since my mother's death. Surely she wouldn't back down from that confrontation if she'd had a choice.
As we crossed the bridge and passed into the city, I had time to fantasize about a world where my father had been killed by other means. A high-caliber sniper rifle with one of Meg's magic bullets seemed like an obvious answer, but the Fae hadn't had access to a hawthorn tree like mine in ages, and its ash was the secret ingredient. There was certainly a magical solution, but those powerful enough to wield it would need a reason to risk a confrontation. He was strong enough to repel most threats, and smart enough to stay off everyone else's radar—except for Mab, who either believed he still had uses, or that he wasn't worth the effort.
In hindsight, I thought Meg might have been our best help, someone who had casually and repeatedly broken the laws of physics on our behalf, but she worked in runes and jewelry, which took time we didn't have. That left my own power, a barely controllable force that had already proved useless against him, and Rachel's gun, which she'd taken with her. My only advantage was the fact that he couldn't bend me to his will, and even that was only partly true. He'd use the girls against me if I gave him the chance, and then all bets were off.
The college came into view before I was ready. I circled the mall, avoiding Stewart Hall for as long as I dared, telling myself it was to evade detection, but the real reason was a lack of nerve. I still carried wounds from the last time I entered that building, the kind that no healing spell could reach.
I pulled into the lot outside Tory Hall on the far side of the campus while Amy and Katherine gave me regular updates. Rachel was still alive. Her phone was close. While I prepared myself to fight off emotions I couldn't hold back, I was struck with an unnatural calm. Katherine said it was normal, the mind buffering itself against anticipated stress, but I silently disagreed. It felt more like the acceptance of an outcome I couldn't change. We were walking into darkness to save our friend, with little hope that any of us would survive it.
Becca clutched the staff in both hands and Katherine slung Amy's bag over her shoulder as we crossed the quad in determined silence, until a scream cut through the night.
"The dorms," Katherine said and began running in their direction.
"Is it Rachel?" I panted, surprised at how easily I kept up. Katherine shook her head. We soon crossed the street, cleared the dorm's parking lot, then circled the building to find a black haired girl kneeling over someone lying in the grass.
"Lana?" Katherine called to her as we approached. The girl lifted her tear stained face, then leaped to her feet and sprinted toward us. I had to step aside to avoid touching her.
"Oh god, Kath, someone killed Jackie!" she wailed, wrapping her arms around Katherine, then fell to her knees in terror and shock. The air became eerily still and silent, broken only by the choked sobs of Lana's grief. Katherine knelt with her, offering soothing words and a gentle touch, but her eyes were radiating cold violence, like a lioness gathering strength to avenge her pride.
"Tom," Becca said in an even tone, breaking my paralysis. "I need your help."
I blinked once and followed her without thought toward Jackie's body, cursing when I saw the blade in her neck. "Did my dad do this?"
"It doesn't matter now, she's almost gone."
"Almost?"
Becca nodded, "I don't think she'd have an aura if she was all the way dead." Her fingers tightened around the Fferyn. "I'm going to try, but I'm scared. I can't do it by myself."
"What do you need me to do?" Even without checking her vitals, I could see that Jackie had been clinically dead for several minutes at least, but I believed in Becca. If she said there was a chance...
"I can't just put the healing spell on her, but I'm pretty sure I can focus on the parts where she's hurt most, like I did when your ribs were broken. The problem is that knife. It has to come out at the right time without hurting her more or nothing I do will help."
"Do it," I said and gently wrapped my fingers around the lacquered handle. I felt the buzz of anticipation when the Fferyn sent ripples of possibility through the Veil, and glanced back at Katherine. She was hugging her friend Lana, but watched us carefully and gave me a subtle nod, as if she could read the entire situation and our minds all at once.
"I'm starting," Becca said, her voice echoing through the Veil, and violet flames danced around us as her anima burst into life. Caught in the sphere of her light, the scenery practically glowed with bright, saturated colors, as visible threads of her will cradled the dying girl. They probed the vicious cut, and where they touched her, flesh began to knit. Without understanding how, I was suddenly aware of a fracture in Jackie's transverse process, and the millimeter between the knife's edge and her interior carotid artery. The blade hadn't gone straight in, and the esophagus wasn't entirely severed, but her vocal chords were badly damaged.
"This is so weird," I heard Becca exclaim faintly, as if from a distance, whispers upon whispers, merging with my thoughts.
I understand—
"I know stuff,"
Why do I—
"How come I know stuff?"
I wanted to reply, but the information was pouring in too fast, as if my brain had to process input from several sources at once. The artery was a priority or she'd suffer brain damage, even if she didn't bleed out or drown in her own blood. I moved the knife a hair's breadth. Tissue mended. Now the superclavicular nerves were in jeopardy. I moved the knife again with more precision than my hands were capable of on their own, sensing mistakes before they happened and correcting them.
The sharp metal withdrew slowly as Jackie's trachea closed behind it. I turned the blade, applying the slightest pressure against a torn vestibular fold while Becca's magic restored it. After what felt like hours, the tip of the butcher knife cleared the surface of Jackie's skin, leaving an angry, but shallow, cut, and a great deal of blood.
"Is she breathing?" Becca's whispered question summoned me back into the world. Her thoughts were no longer in my head, and that strange influence was gone.
I answered her with a nod, "But not for long if we don't get her to a doctor." Before I could pull out my phone and dial 911, Katherine appeared at my side and laid a hand on my arm.
"Amy says no," she whispered. "She'll call it in." Her voice was echoed like the one that had recently left my mind.
"What happened to Lana?" I asked.
"She went to get the campus police. It'll take her a few minutes, but they'll be here soon. Is Jackie going to be okay?"
"Maybe. We've done what we can."
"Then we need to keep moving. Remember why we're here."
Standing was harder than it should have been, a familiar weakness that reminded me of hospital beds and little blue pills, but the fatigue left me quickly.
"Was that you?" Becca asked once I got my feet beneath me.
"What?"
"What just happened. It was like someone was in my head telling me what to do."
"That wasn't part of your spell?"
She shook her head, wide-eyed. "Nothing like that has ever happened before."
"We can talk about it some other time," Katherine interrupted, "we have to find Rachel."
"But—"
"Becca, please!" Katherine's tone was more desperate than harsh. As we turned to leave, I looked back at Jackie. I hated leaving her alone and injured in the middle of the night, but stopping to help her might have cost Rachel her life. I prayed it was worth it.
"Medics are on their way," Amy poked her head out of the backpack, "but I can't do anything about your other friend. The authorities will know you were there and they'll have questions."
"Worry about that later," Katherine hissed over her shoulder and drew us onward. Less than a minute passed before the outline of Stewart Hall appeared, and my calm finally gave way to anxiety, the kind I hadn't felt since I'd been off the pills. Thrills. Chills. Reflex and habit took over, but I was no longer flailing in the dark chaos of a disability I couldn't control. There was life, glowing strands of Katherine, Becca, and even Amy, joined in purpose, leading me onward to save the one pattern missing from that tapestry of light.
By the time we reached the back door, determination had replaced the weakness in my body and I yanked it open, expecting resistance. There was none, though my fingers slipped on the handle. I hadn't been aware of Jackie's blood until then, and I stopped to stare at the slick, red stain on my open palm.
"Thomas!" Katherine whispered, and I gritted my teeth. Focus.
"Where?" I asked, looking down the stairs with revulsion.
"We're practically on top of her phone," Amy said. "This is the right place."
"She's up there," Katherine said and started forward, but I held her back. I wasn't placing anyone between me and my father. Whatever chance we had at stealth was ruined by my headlong charge, but for me there was no other option. If I hesitated, I might freeze again.
At the top of the second flight, a door stood ajar with orange light from the room beyond flickering through it. Without thinking, I rammed my shoulder into it and leaped into the open space beyond.
Rachel knelt on the floor, head bowed, her back toward us, while my father crouched over her like a demon, snarling in anger. One hand clutched at his chest, and the other held the barrel of Rachel's gun against her forehead.
"Get your fucking hands off her!" I shouted and ran toward them as fast as my legs would carry me. Power coursed through my body, banishing fear behind a blazing wall of fury that burned every distracting thought out of my mind. As if moving in slow motion, Caratacos looked up and his feral glare transformed into a wicked grin of triumph.
BANG!
The gunshot echoed from the walls, amplified in the closed space. I must have closed my eyes for a moment, instinctively shutting out the horror Becca had foreseen in her scrying bowl.
"Thomas, no!" I heard Katherine's voice through the roaring in my ears, accompanied by a wordless shriek. Why were my eyelids so heavy? I forced them open and found myself prone on the concrete.
"Don't you move!" I made out the manic voice of a woman through the ringing in my head. She wasn't addressing me. It wasn't until my father took a limping step forward, his cocky grin distorted by pain, that the adrenaline subsided and I felt the agony in my shoulder.
"Good to see you again, boy," he coughed. "You finally brought your fucktoys home to meet your old man."
"Y—you shot him!" Becca's voice came weakly from somewhere behind me.
"That I did," he chuckled, then coughed again. "Can't blame me for that though, I'm just returning the favor." He gestured at Rachel and tossed the gun aside, well out of reach. "Gotta admit this little cunt caught me way off guard. It's been a good long time since I've been hurt this bad."
Anger surged again, and I pushed past the pain. "Don't touch her," I said coldly, and levered myself awkwardly to my feet.
"Have you reconsidered my offer?"
"Please," Becca whimpered, but she was cut short.
"You get back!" said the manic voice, and I looked around until I found its source. A girl with dirty, unkempt hair and a large bruise over one eye was threatening Katherine and Becca with a baseball bat. "Just stay there or I'll do you like Jackie!" Katherine's eyes flared, but she didn't speak.
Kennedy Wiseman looked pleased with herself, but I recognized the signs of someone in deep withdrawal. She was unfocused, weak, and even with the bat, presented little threat to the other girls.
"Please, let me help Tom," Becca took a step toward me and I tried to gesture her back.
"I think that one likes you, boy," my father said, "but the other one's got more spirit. It's gonna be fun breaking her."
"Don't you fucking dare," I heard myself growl out the words as if someone else had spoken them.
"Please," Becca began again, but Caratacos turned on her.
"Do you ever shut up, you noisy little twat?" His annoyance was palpable, a break in his usual, maddening confidence. "What the hell do you plan to do?"
"She can heal him."
Silence fell as every eye turned toward Rachel. "That stick she's holding lets her do magic. She wants to heal Tom."
Everyone stared, the girls and I in disbelief, and Caractacos in curious surprise. Katherine spoke first.
"Rachel, what are you doing?"
"What's wrong, Kath, can't you read my mind?" Rachel stood and turned toward us, her features distorted with disgust and pain.
My father grinned, but he wasn't convinced. "She's no Fae. How does she manage to work the Veil?"
"She got it out of a book."
"Rachel!"
She whirled to face me, snarling with anger and resentment. "I told you what I've been dealing with, and I tried so damn hard every single day to keep you safe. I came here because I was ready to give up my life for you. When I shot this sonofabitch and he didn't die I thought it was over, but you know what he did? Nothing. I'm still here, and now I have the opportunity to make new choices. You had your chance, fuckhead, it's my turn now."
Caratacos laughed, a low, hateful sound. "Looks like you don't have what it takes after all. And you've had her all this time."
I searched for Rachel's anima, any hint of the fairy lights that revealed her connection to me, but they remained dark, closed to me.
"Don't take it so hard," he continued. "You might still have a way out, though I'm gonna have to take your toys away." He leered at Becca and Katherine. "Can't let you think it's okay to cross your daddy."
"I said you're not touching them!"
I never saw him move. One second he was standing several feet away, the next, he was on top of me, fingers around my good wrist. "How do you plan to stop me?" He tightened his grip and twisted, and I felt my trapezium snap. The pain had barely registered before he twisted again, harder, shattering the radius. I screamed and my legs gave out as I was consumed by agony.
Katherine shrieked and ran toward me. Becca shouted, "Don't! Please stop hurting him!"
Unexpectedly, he released my arm, letting me drop to the floor, and I fell heavily, unable to catch myself. While I fought to remain conscious, Katherine dropped to her knees and cradled my head, stroking my hair and sobbing.
"A healer you say?" he asked, turning back to Rachel.
"She can't do much else," she said, "but I've seen her make plants grow."
"And the book?"
"They call it the Glim."
Katherine wept openly, pleading, "How could you? You're my best friend!"
"Really?" Caratacos eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mab's been looking for that thing for centuries. She'll shit a whole stack of bricks when she finds out I have it."
Hands trembling, eyes wide with fear, Becca approached where I lay helpless on the floor, but my father held up a hand top stop her. "Not him, girl," he commanded. "You're gonna take care of me."
Becca froze, shivering uncontrollably and unable to move, but adamantly refusing to look at him.
"Don't do it Becca," I managed, "he's weak—"
"Weak?" he snarled, his composure almost breaking. "Look at yourself, boy. Do you still think you can protect anyone? Even with this hole in my chest, I could skull fuck every one of your bitches while you watch, before cutting out your heart and bleeding you dry. I'll start with this one if she doesn't show me what she can do with that staff."
Becca remained frozen, staring into my eyes.
"I see," he said, limping to a metal brazier that stood strangely out of place in the abandoned office and lit a cigarette from it's leaping flames. "You believe you still have options. Let me give you some advice, kid. Stop trying to convince yourself you can win, it'll just end up hurting more. Take a look at your friend, here." He waved to Rachel and she joined him obediently. "She's been fighting me a long time, but in the end she came back because she knows she can't get what she needs anywhere else."
He retrieved Rachel's pistol and handed it back to her.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" she asked without emotion.
"Send a message."
Without pausing to think, she pointed the gun at me. My father only laughed.
"Well now, that's an interesting choice." He coughed again. Rachel stared at me with lifeless eyes while Katherine cried for her to stop. Her finger twitched and for a moment I thought it was over, but she didn't pull the trigger.
"Any last words, asshole?" she asked.
I sat up as straight as I could with my two useless arms and looked back. "I'm sorry."
"Fuck your sorry. It's too late."
"I know," I said, feeling more peace in that moment than I had any right to. "I tried to do my best and I still screwed up. You've always been stronger than me. I let you down and I'm sorry, but no matter what happens now, I trust you."
Rachel's eyes widened slightly and I could sense her anger toward me sharpen, then her face went cold and hard, dropping all pretense of emotion. Caratacos laughed again. "You think big, girl, I like that. But you've gotta tighten the screws a little at a time to get what you want. He won't squirm as much if he's dead."
She shrugged, changed her stance, and casually fired a round into the center of Kennedy's chest. The impact knocked her into the wall and she dropped her baseball bat before wordlessly sliding to the floor, a mix of shock and sorrow clouding her features.
"Oh god, Rachel," Katherine covered her face with her hands.
"Hell of a shot!" my father clapped in approval, then rounded on Becca again. "See? That's how it always ends. I made a mistake with your friend, gave her too much leash, but she was always going to lose, isn't that right, angel?"
Rachel remained silent, her expression giving nothing away.
"Now you," he faced Becca again. "Be a good girl and fix me up before this gets messy?"
Becca finally, slowly, turned to him. "You're a bad man."
"Little girl," he grinned and stepped toward us, "that's the funniest damn thing anyone has said to me in a long time, but you're wrong. I'm not bad, I'm powerful, way past petty mortal ideas like good and evil. But as much as I like a good laugh, I'm losing patience. Heal me now." He raised a leg and brought his foot down on my shin, shattering the bone. Katherine shrieked helplessly and I nearly blacked out again from the shock and pain.
"I won't!" Becca wept. "You deserve to die, and I hope it hurts!"
Caratacos sighed and exchanged a look with Rachel. "Kill the blonde."
"NO!" I shouted impotently, words slurring drunkenly. The effort brought a wave of nausea and bile stung my throat.
Rachel raised the gun again and aimed it at Katherine who faced her friend, ravaged by sorrow but without a trace of fear. I wanted to put my body between them, but Becca was there before I could summon the strength to move.
"Stop it!" she cried out and Rachel hesitated, letting the barrel drop slightly. "Just stop! You win!"
"Of course I do," Caratacos gave her a leering grin. He inhaled another lung full of acrid smoke, then stood taller and straightened his lapel. "I'm warning you though, any funny business and what I do to you will make all this look like a party game."
Becca closed her eyes for a long time, trying to master her grief, then she gave me an apologetic look, held a hand over the Fferyn, and called forth the Veil.