Blood Politics (Blood Destiny 4) Page 24

  Chapter Twenty Four

  When we finally reached the glass-fronted restaurant, we were quickly ushered inside and into the lift. Rather than heading for the public area where I’d previously dined with Solus, we were led into a back room. It was filled with a large walnut boardroom type oval table, and plush cream carpet covered the floor. Swanky. Everyone else was already sitting there waiting.

  The magnitude of this meeting hit me. Sure, I knew that on occasion the Otherworld heads met up to try to avoid unnecessary conflict. In fact that had been how I’d come to meet Aubrey in the first place: when I’d sort of gate-crashed his vamp lair in order to steal back the Ancile and leave the Palladium in its place. But this was different. There was a sombre atmosphere, and the gravity of the situation was clearly not lost on anyone. At one end of the table were the Fae: the Summer Queen, Solus, Beltran, and two others, all of whose grace and elegance rather put me to shame. Opposite them were the mages. Alex, apparently not in hiding after all, was seated next to the Arch-Mage. Max and Larkin were both there, along with a couple of austere looking female mages who I vaguely recognised. In the far corner were Staines, Lucy, and Tom. There was an empty seat next to them that was clearly meant for Corrigan himself. More surprisingly, Balud the troll was also present.

  I pulled out the chair next to Balud and sat myself down. At least this way I could not only ensure that I kept my promise to him, by detailing everything I knew about Endor’s weapon shop, but also maintain some semblance of neutrality by not visibly aligning myself with any of the other groups. Aubrey sat next to me. The cushion on his chair let out a gentle farting sound as he rested himself upon it. He giggled to himself. Everybody else ignored him.

  The Summer Queen tapped her long tapered fingernails impatiently on the table top. “Where’s Atlanteia? She should be here as well.”

  My stomach dropped. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the dryad just yet. To do so would be to ultimately acknowledge not only my failure to keep her extended family safe, but also my culpability in their deaths.

  “She is as yet too weak to leave her habitat,” stated the Arch-Mage. “The attack took it out of her and she is not ready to supplant herself so far away from her tree.”

  The Summer Queen raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “You’ve been in contact with her? I seem to recall that it wasn’t too long ago that you were using the dryads for silly teaching experiments.”

  He scowled in obvious annoyance. Before he could answer, however, Corrigan interrupted. “We’re not going to get anywhere by starting off in conflict. We can talk to Atlanteia later. Let’s focus on the matter in hand instead.” He looked meaningfully at me.

  I cleared my throat somewhat nervously and began, laying out the details of how I’d come to end up at Haughmond Hill, including both Balud’s ‘request’ to discover the identity of his competitor, and what Atlanteia had asked of me.

  “This is not something you should have undertaken alone,” frowned the Arch-Mage.

  “Well, I didn’t think it was actually going to be that big of a deal. There was no reason to expect there to be a fucking all powerful necromancer behind everything,” I explained, trying to remain patient and not point out that even having a string of shifters, mages and Fae along for the ride hadn’t really helped all that much.

  “He really is a big deal, dudes,” added in Alex. The Summer Queen winced. “According to the Batibat I spoke to, he’s trying to harness the four elements, earth, air, fire and water. His ultimate goal remains unclear, but you can bet it ain’t anything fluffy and sweet.”

  “It’s impossible, though. No necromancer can use death magic to gain leverage over the elements.”

  I turned to the Arch-Mage. “But I think he already has,” I said quietly. “That’s what killing the dryads was all about. They’re tied to the trees and the trees are tied to the earth. He’s already got that one in the bag.” Several faces around the table paled.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” stated Staines, firmly. “He killed that one dryad, Mereia, and then didn’t go back until you blundered in and destroyed his ward.”

  I forced myself to stay calm. “Because initially he didn’t want to take all the power at once. He described it as some kind of overload. That he’d short out if he did too much at once. When he came back the second time, he was strong enough to take more.”

  “So is he going to go back? Do we need to protect the dryads all over the country?”

  “Even though he didn’t manage to draw power from all of them, I get the feeling that he’s done with them,” I answered slowly. “He’s going to move onto another element.”

  “Still,” said the Summer Queen, “we can’t be too careful. We should ensure that the tree nymphs are safe from further encroachment.”

  “Oh, yes?” inquired one of the female mages. “And how exactly are we going to do that?”

  The Fae Queen turned cold eyes onto her. “I would rather think that the mages could manage that. After all, not only are you apparently versed in creating protective wards, you also owe the dryads in the first place for the torture you inflicted upon them.”

  “Torture? We didn’t torture them! We didn’t know that what we were doing was hurting them. As soon as we did know we stopped!” The mage’s voice rose with each sentence. “You’re the Fae. You’re the ones meant to be at one with the Mother Earth. Maybe it should be you stepping up to the plate for once.”

  All of a sudden, a collection of raised voices filled the room. The tension was palpable, and I thought I could even hear the beginnings of a magic crackle in the air that didn’t forbode well. I slammed my palm down onto the table top with all my strength. Startled, everyone silenced and stared at me.

  “Look,” I said, annoyed, “there are enough mages around to create wards at the main dryad habitats. If the Fae and the shifters each post guards as well, say, just one each, then no-one will be too stretched. I don’t believe that Endor is going to bother with them again though. He’s going to move onto another element.”

  “So that means, water sprites perhaps?” asked Lucy. “They’re an easy target.”

  “What if he goes for air instead? There are any number of creatures he could attempt to draw from. How on earth do we know which ones he’ll go for?”

  “What if he goes for fire?” Corrigan’s voice was quiet, and his eyes were on me.

  The others all turned in my direction, puzzlement in a few faces, comprehension in others. “We’ll set up a bodyguard rotation,” said the Arch-Mage firmly. “No-one is going near Miss Mackenzie without our say so.”

  “Or she could just come to Tir-na-Nog. Problem solved,” hissed the Fae Queen.

  “Stop it!” I yelled. “He doesn’t know what I am. And I’m hardly the only Otherworld creature that uses fire. “ I looked at the Arch-Mage. “Just set up a fucking Divination spell. Several Divination spells. We know he’s not on this plane right now, but the spells will alert us when he is. Then we find out who he’s aiming for.”

  There were several vigorous nods. Jeez, logic wasn’t the natural setting for these guys.

  “Except, when he does appear, how do we kill him?”

  Everybody stilled. Staines continued. “The Lord Alpha, the strongest of all our shifters, couldn’t even come close. Neither could our pet dragon for that matter.” I scowled while Lucy blinked in surprise. I guessed that cat was out of the bag then. Thank you very much, Staines, you fuckwit.

  “I’m just saying. It’s all well and good being able to find him when he shows up, but if we don’t have a plan for how to attack him, then all this is pointless.”

  I looked at Aubrey, sitting silent and wide eyed next to me. “Aubrey? He’s a necromancer. He has the power of the undead. What do you think?”

  Aubrey thought for a moment before answering. “Well, vampires are obviously different.”

  There was a snort from the other side of the room. “Obviously.”

  I ignored it. “Go on
,” I nudged.

  “Fire works,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Stake through the heart too, although it has to be wooden…”

  “Oh this is pointless,” called out Beltran, “we’re not dealing with a vampire. And even if we were, we all know how to kill one of them anyway.”

  Aubrey snarled. I was taken aback. There was a glimmer there, just for a second, of the old red-eyed master.

  “You’re not listening. Fire works because it destroys everything. Stakes work because they go through the heart. Now we know from Mack that silver is useless…”

  “Yeah, it’s only the weak arse shifters who can’t cope with that,” called out one of the mages.

  Lucy growled. Corrigan laid a calming hand on her arm. She subsided, but her eyes were still spitting hatred.

  “So we just need to find a weapon that does work,” concluded Aubrey. “The heart is always key. No matter what you are.”

  I twisted left. “Balud?”

  He nodded to himself. “I can do some research. Find materials that might be useful.”

  “Good. And as Staines has so helpfully pointed out, I’m also a dragon. Or Draco Wyr, anyway. I can work with the shifters,” I said, deciding to focus in the determination filling me, rather than my annoyance at so many people now knowing my secret. “Maybe I can learn how to get control of the transformations. Then I can use my fire to destroy him too.”

  I received several approving looks.

  “It’ll take time,” said Corrigan, concern etched across his face.

  I kept my voice deliberately quiet. “What else do we have? We don’t know when he’ll return.”

  “But when he does, we’ll be ready,” stated the Arch-Mage firmly.

  “Our dragonlette will win the day.”

  I looked over at Solus. There was an unhappy shadow visible within his expressive violet eyes. Not sure what was up, I flashed him a quick reassuring smile. He smiled tightly back. That wasn’t good. It was unlike him even in times of such dramatic and tragic circumstances to lose his usual bouncy arrogant personality.

  The Summer Queen spoke up again. “We need a formal task force.”

  “You’re right,” agreed the Arch-Mage. “With representatives from each of us. I recommend that the mages take the lead. I can nominate someone agreeable to everyone.”

  “And why should the mages be in charge?” asked Corrigan, his voice dangerously low.

  “We’re the best all rounders. The shifters can fight and the faeries have magic. We have both. It stands to reason that we should lead because we understand both worlds and we are in the best position to ensure Endor’s defeat.”

  “You can’t possible compare our magic to yours,” interrupted Beltran. “We have more knowledge and more power in our little fingers than you could possibly ever demonstrate.”

  “You don’t even live on this plane,” Lucy said to the Fae, scorn dripping from her voice. “The only Otherworld leader who had enough nouse to be where the real danger was to begin with was Lord Corrigan. It should obviously be a shifter in control.”

  The room descended into a cacophony of chaos. Two of the mages were on their feet, arguing loudly with Lucy and Staines. Alex was jabbing a finger at the faeries. Both the Summer Queen and the Arch-Mage looked about ready to boil over. I glanced at Corrigan.

  This isn’t helping. They’re going to spend more time arguing than ever getting anything done.

  Welcome to the machinations of the Otherworld, kitten.

  I shook my head slightly in irritation. Then I stood up, pushing my chair back. Nobody took any notice. Rather than attempt make myself heard above the mayhem, I shot a single bolt of green fire at the centre of the table. It smoked and hissed, scorching the expensive sheen of the wood. Oh, well. The room went quiet again.

  “Look, we’re all agreed that we need a task force, right?”

  “Let’s call it a council,” suggested one of the Fae.

  I blinked at that, and thought of Mrs. Alcoon.’s words. “Okay, a council then. We also all know what we need to do to guard against Endor’s next move.”

  There was more nodding.

  Corrigan spoke up. “She’s right. Let’s leave the issue of who’s in charge alone for now, and worry about the important matters instead.”

  There were some grumbled mutters.

  “Lord Alpha, I don’t think you appreciate that without a head, this entire operation will collapse before it begins,” commented the Arch-Mage. “Someone needs to keep everyone in place.”

  “Let me guess,” added in Beltran sarcastically, “you think that ought to be you.”

  The Summer Queen rose to her feet. She was tapping her mouth thoughtfully. “We’ll choose a leader. We’ll just wait awhile before we do so.”

  The Arch-Mage also stood up. “With all due respect…”

  She stared at him, some kind of message in her eyes. I watched her carefully. What on earth was she up to?

  “Let’s get some food first, then reconvene in, say, an hour’s time?”

  Without waiting for an answer, she held her hand out to Beltran. He took it, and the pair of them swept imperiously out of the room.

  I looked at Corrigan and shrugged. Everyone else began to file out, one by one. I nodded to Aubrey, and he left too.

  “How on earth do you lot ever get anything done?” I asked, once the room was empty.

  “That’s easy,” he answered distractedly, running a tired hand through his midnight black hair. “We never do.”

  “You’re a bunch of power hungry maniacs,” I said, annoyed at the childish truculent behaviour of almost every single Otherworld member.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s a dangerous world out there, Mack. You know that.” Changing tack, he reached out and touched me lightly on the arm. “I’m sorry about Staines. He shouldn’t have revealed that about you.”

  “How did he even know?” I didn’t want to start getting pissed off at Corrigan, but I needed to be able to trust him.

  A muscle throbbed in his cheek. “It was a mistake. He was going on at me to leave you alone. That things would never work out because you were a mage. It just kind of burst out.”

  I sighed. I figured that I couldn’t really berate him for snapping something out in anger, not given my own natural proclivity for letting rage rule my head anyway. “Whatever. I’m going to go and hit the bathroom. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  *

  I was washing my hands in the marble sink when the door to the bathroom swung open. My eyes widened slightly as I realised it was Solus.

  “You do know this is the little girls’ room right?”

  He just blinked at me, then mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry’. Confused, I gave him a puzzled frown. He shook his head slightly, as if warning me to be quiet. The bathroom door creaked as it opened again. It was the Summer Queen.

  I looked from her to Solus, then back again.

  Finally, I opened my mouth to speak. “Okay, what gives?”

  “You’re an intelligent woman,” she said, “I’d have thought that was obvious.”

  I shook the droplets of water from my hands, then dried them on the back of my jeans. Her nose twitched slightly.

  “Well,” I drawled, “I guess you’ll just have to enlighten me.”

  She took a step forward. I realised that she was at least a foot and a half taller than me. I tried not to feel small and insignificant by comparison.

  “You are friends with Solus.”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s Fae.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You are also friends with that mage. Alex? The one with the appalling vocabulary?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And with the Lord Alpha.”

  Well, I didn’t know if I’d call him a friend, but okay. I shrugged. “Yeah. What’s your point?”

  “Nobody else has the ear of all three groups. You even have a vampire on your side.”

  “Ex-vampire.” I had
a horrible feeling I knew where she was going with all this. I really hoped I was wrong.

  “You have strength. And magic. You have proven yourself worthy in a number of situations.”

  I had the faintest inkling that the dryads might beg to differ slightly on that point, but I kept my mouth shut.

  She continued. “You are the obvious choice to lead our new little anti-necromancer council.”

  Fuck. “No. Absolutely not. I am the worst possible choice.”

  “Hear me out, Mackenzie. You saw how bad things were in there. How much everyone disagreed with each other. The only person who’s ever had any real success in getting us to work together is you. You did it at Haughmond Hill and you did it to some extent in that room.”

  I felt slightly nauseous. “I have a terrible temper. I’d be as likely to bite someone’s head off as to motivate them to work with others.”

  “It seems to me,” she said, “that you have somewhat conquered those baser impulses. Besides, people need their heads bitten off on occasion.”

  I swallowed. “I like working alone. I’m an independent kind of person. There’s no ‘I’ in team,” I added for cheesy melodramatic effect.

  “There’s an “I” in council. And it needs someone independent to lead it. Someone who will get things done.”