Iron & Velvet (Kate Kane, Paranormal Investigator #1) Page 23

  I glared. “It wasn’t like we had a choice.”

  “What do you mean? Everyone’s been behaving like complete berks since we got down here. I’ve spent the last however long chasing my tail, trying to get everyone back together.”

  I stared at him. “You can navigate Faerie?”

  “You can’t?” He blinked. “Oh yah, silly of me, must be a wolf thing. If I’d known you’d all be running around like headless chickens, I wouldn’t have come alone.”

  After Safernoc, I should have realised that Henry was way better qualified to handle creepy faery shit than the rest of us. “Henry, I’m not sure whether I want to hug you or smack you. Does this mean you know where you are?”

  “I don’t know where I am, but I know where I’m going. This place reeks of its lord.”

  “Right,” I said. “New plan. Stick with Henry, and all hold hands.”

  Kauri cracked up.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “You’ve got to admit, this is pretty funny. We’re in a sewer, going to fight an evil faery lord, holding hands like a bunch of school kids, and one of us is naked.”

  I sighed. “I’ve spent this entire case sifting through poo. I’m long past worrying about my dignity. Now, if everyone’s ready, let’s go.”

  “Um, Kate.” Ashriel sounded like he’d had it. “I . . . I’m really not ready. I’m kind of fucked over here. You’ll just have to leave me.”

  I looked up. “Oh no you don’t, you’re not doing the ‘leave me, save yourselves’ bit. You’re coming with us, or we’re getting you out.”

  Kauri cracked up again.

  “Will you stop it?” I really wanted to throw something at him, but I had nothing except a dead nun and a sword. “This is a serious rescue operation.”

  He wagged his finger at Ashriel. “You should have gone before you left. If I have to stop this mission one more time, we’re all turning round and going home.”

  Ashriel flumped onto his side and started laughing too. “Oh, we’re fucking dead,” he cackled. “We’re so fucking dead.”

  Henry was kneeling by the nun I’d skewered. “Uh, sorry to interrupt your frankly bizarre behaviour, chaps, but these things seem to be getting better.”

  “Well, of course they are, puppy,” said Ashriel, calming down a fraction. “They’re stuck here, much like we are.”

  I peered at the body of Sister Zombie. Nim had said this sword could basically kill anything. Then again, I guess these women were already dead and tied to the faery realm we were currently inside. “Wow, bummer for them. Can we unstick them? I don’t fancy being hunted by indestructible killer nuns.”

  “Not really my forte.” Henry shrugged. “I just bite things.”

  “We have to do something,” I insisted. “Otherwise they’ll just keep coming.”

  Ashriel winced. “I don’t suppose any of you have a priest in your pocket?”

  “No,” Kauri giggled. “I’m just pleased to see you.”

  Ashriel collapsed again.

  “Less banter,” I growled, “more options.”

  There was a thoughtful pause.

  “Well,” offered Ashriel, “I suppose I could suck their souls out. It’ll stop them coming after you.”

  Henry glared. “I don’t think so.”

  I thought about it a moment. “I guess that’d be better for us, but not for them.”

  “I’d let them go again,” said Ashriel. “If I get out of here.”

  Henry stood up and leaned against one of the statues, keeping a careful distance between himself and the sex demon. “So you’re saying you’d suck their souls out, but you wouldn’t inhale?”

  “Can you do that?” I asked.

  “Of course. We trade in souls all the time.”

  “You would give them back again, right?”

  “Yes, I’d give them back again. Though they’d be worth a fucking fortune.”

  Henry did not look impressed. “We’re really going to trust the word of a demon?”

  Ashriel put his hands up. “Look, worst-case scenario I take them to Hell, which isn’t that much worse than where they are now. And at least it gets them out of your hair.”

  “Nuns or no nuns,” I said, “I’m not leaving you here.”

  “And I’m not trusting him on his own with four innocent souls,” snapped Henry.

  Kauri was laughing again. “All we need now is a fox, a chicken, and a bag of grain.”

  “Not helping.” I ran my hands through my hair and took a deep breath. “Okay, new new plan. Henry, get Ashriel out of here. You can find your way out, right?”

  Henry shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not going. You need me.”

  “It’s not your fight. And I’m not leaving anyone trapped here. Not even four zombie nuns, if I can help it. If we’re all killed, you can get the pack and finish what we started. Also, we don’t really have time to argue about this.”

  “All right. But I’m doing it for the nuns, not the incubus. And if he double-crosses us, I’ll tear him to pieces.”

  Ashriel scowled. “Put your dick away, Fido. I’m not in a position to be double-crossing anyone.”

  “Still not helping,” I said. “Now do what you have to do, Ashriel, and get out of here before you get killed.”

  Ashriel staggered over to the nun I’d cut down and knelt beside her. Her hand shot up and closed around his throat, but she was still too weak to be any threat. He leaned over her, put his lips close to hers and slowly inhaled, drawing out a ribbon of multicoloured light. The body went limp. Ashriel clambered painfully back to his feet and exhaled, blowing iridescent spirals into the palm of his hand, where they formed a tiny, shining sphere. He did the same thing to the other nuns, until he was holding four balls of light in one tenderly cupped hand.

  I peered at them curiously. Each one was a constantly shifting pattern of colours, and each one was different. “You take care of those.”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  “Can you walk?” Henry asked.

  “Just about.”

  Henry huffed out an exasperated sigh. “Come on, I’ll carry you. But no funny business.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  Henry shifted back into his wolf form and Kauri helped Ashriel onto his back. And then Henry padded off through one of the arches, and they disappeared into the darkness.

  I took Kauri’s hand, and we pressed on into the maze. I felt like we should have been hurrying, but I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. We’d arrive when we arrived, and it was probably best if I wasn’t knackered when we got there. We kept wandering through tunnels and corridors and bowers until we came to another open space. In the centre was a heart-shaped archway made of the same congealed fat and grease. A swing hung from it on ropes of glistening grey-green roses.

  Maeve was sitting on the swing with her eyes closed, murmuring softly under her breath. She opened her eyes. “I was beginning to think this was a really elaborate trap.”

  “Please, I’m not that subtle.”

  “She really isn’t,” agreed Kauri.

  “I suppose,” said Maeve, “you want me to lead you to the King?”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yes. I’m a Priestess of the Quiet Gods. It’s what I do.”

  “Then how come you all got separated?”

  She shrugged. “They wouldn’t trust me.”

  Kauri’s eyes flicked over her. “No offence, honey, but you’re not exactly trustworthy.”

  Maeve glared at him. “Raise your hand everyone who hunts humans for food.”

  Kauri glared back. “Raise your hand everyone who tried to murder the person we’re here to rescue.”

  I sighed. “Raise your hand everyone here who needs to shut up right now.”

  They shut up.

  “Do you want my help or not?” Maeve climbed off the swing and wiped her hands on her dress.

  “Is bloodletting in a sewer really a good idea?” I asked.
<
br />   “No.” She gave an ironic half smile. “But none of this is a good idea.”

  “Okay, what do we have to do?”

  “Give me your hands.”

  “Don’t make me regret this.”

  She drew a knife from her belt and pricked my fingertip. Then she did the same to Kauri’s, and finally to her own. She pressed our hands together and said something in a language I didn’t understand and probably didn’t want to.

  Kauri blinked at his finger. “Is that it?”

  She nodded, raising a hand and gently sweeping it through the air as if she was feeling its texture. “It’s this way.” And she led us straight into a wall of brickwork, wire, and climbing roses.

  I felt a bit dubious about walking into solid objects, but this was magecraft, so I kept my mouth shut. And sure enough, the wall parted as we passed through it.

  Of course, then we were back in the fucking maze.

  Maeve went first, stopping every now and then to let a drop of her blood fall on the floor.

  “Oh,” I said, “by the way. There are indestructible killer zombie nuns running around in here.”

  “I know, I can sense them.”

  “Any idea where they are now?”

  Maeve gave me a look.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “Two of them. Behind us.”

  I looked up and down the very long, very straight tunnel.

  A couple of nuns stepped into the corridor, crossbows ready. We had nowhere to hide, and if we ran we’d just get shot in the back. I was starting to see why swords had gone out of fashion.

  “Go.” Kauri waved us away. “This is my big number.”

  I hesitated. “We stick together.”

  “Honey, you’re cramping my style. Now get out of here.”

  I heard the soft whoosh of a crossbow bolt. I looked down to see that Kauri had caught it just before it hit me in the chest. He opened his fingers, and it clattered harmlessly onto the floor. Then he bamfed down the corridor faster than I could track.

  Maeve and I turned and ran for it.

  “The others aren’t far,” said Maeve.

  “Corners. We need corners, dammit.”

  We got off the main tunnel and found some corners. I normally hate these kinds of twisty, narrow passages but then again, I’m not usually fighting medieval sniper nuns. I pressed myself to the wall, barbs and briars snagging at my clothes, edged my way along, poked my head round the corner, and ducked back just as a crossbow bolt whizzed through the space where my left eye had been.

  You had one shot, lady, and that was it.

  I broke cover and went tearing for the nun. She was as quick as the last one and had another of those little spring-loaded wrist blade things, but I was ready this time. Stab me once, shame on you. Stab me twice, shame on me. I kept her on the retreat, hammered her into a wall, and ran her through.

  I whirled round, and, of course, there was another nun back there, with a crossbow pointed right at me.

  I had just enough time to realise how totally fucked I was (again), before thorns and wires lashed out from the wall and entangled her. I Rule Twelved her, in the hope it would keep her down long enough for us to get away, and moved cautiously down the corridor to where I’d left Maeve. She was standing by the wall with one hand impaled on a thorn, blood and ooze tracking down her wrist.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  She gave me a look. “Magic.”

  “I got that bit.”

  “I’ve taken control of the maze. Not much of it, and not for long, but enough.”

  There was another nun wrapped in roses and barbs a little further down the corridor. I stabbed her as well. Just in case. Tied up and skewered is probably safer than just tied up.

  “That’s all of them,” I said. “We met the other four earlier.”

  “We should hurry, then. My control won’t last.”

  “Can we do anything for them?”

  Maeve eased her hand off the thorn. “For who?”

  I pointed at one of the nuns.

  “For the woman you just stabbed in the chest?”

  “Only because she was trying to kill me. I don’t want to leave them trapped here forever.”

  “The world is vast and cruel.” Maeve pressed her palms together to slow the bleeding. “Sometimes bad things happen, and sometimes they last forever.”

  “Wow, that’s harsh.”

  “Of the two of us here, who tried to rip the other one’s throat out?”

  “Not the point. Can you help these women or not?”

  “I could, but it would take time we don’t have. And I’ve angered my Gods enough on your account.”

  “Fine,” I sighed, “let’s go.”

  I didn’t like it, but it didn’t seem as if there was any other choice. We hurried on, and, when I felt we were far enough away, I tore a couple of strips off my shirt and bound up Maeve’s palms.

  “Your hands are wrecked. Why do you do this to yourself?”

  “Why does anyone do anything? Power. And my Gods demand it.”

  “Your Gods are psychos.”

  She smiled. “They are wild and ancient and dangerous. But they’re also terrible and beautiful beyond imagining, and there are few left in this world who remember them. They matter to me.”

  “They’re still psychos.”

  She gave me another one of those looks. “And who are we here to rescue again?”

  “You liked her too.”

  “I worship crazy blood Gods, what’s your excuse?”

  Huh.

  We continued through the maze. And at last—fucking finally—we came to the bower of the King of the Court of Love. Four of the familiar arches met in the middle of a great vaulted chamber strewn with mouldering rose petals and trickling sewer water. Vines and roses criss-crossed the walls and wound about heart-shaped windows that opened onto blank brickwork. The King was sitting on a delicate throne of gold-veined marble, decked with lilies. Julian hung from golden chains behind him. She looked scarily like a corpse, and I hoped we weren’t too late. But if she was properly dead, she’d have turned to dust, right?

  The King of the Court of Love stood and came towards us, his hair trailing gracefully behind him in a train of petals, lilies, and maggots.

  “Knyght.” His voice was sweet and light as champagne. “Welcum iwys to þis place.”

  “I’ve come for my girlfriend,” I said. “Cockstain.”

  “Ye haf your lemman.” He gave a gracious sweep of his arm. “Ϸis lady is myn awen.”

  “She fucking well isn’t.”

  “And I’m no one’s lemman,” added Maeve.

  “What’s a lemon?” I asked.

  “Girlfriend.”

  Well, this was awkward. “Look, dude.” I pointed at Julian, who still hadn’t stirred. “That’s my girlfriend, she’s not your lemon, and I want her back.”

  “I bere hire druerie.” He held out his arm with the beads wrapped around it, and I recognised the rest of Julian’s rosary.

  I sighed. “Oh, you’re just fucking insane.”

  “I bid yow pees and no plyght seche.” He smiled serenely at me and pressed his palms together in a gesture of humility. “Wolde yow be myn knyght, I wouldst gif yow þe comlokest to discrye.”

  I turned to Maeve. “What’s he on about?”

  “He says chill out and don’t be starting anything. Work for me and I’ll give you all the pretty lasses.”

  I’d had enough of this. I went for him. My sword swept harmlessly through the air as he danced back and caught up his twin blades from beside the throne. Just like Julian had said. “Ϸyn fare is veyn, Sir Knyght.” I was pretty sure he was taking the piss.

  “Not a sir.” I charged.

  After he effortlessly parried my first three or four attacks, I realised I was hopelessly outmatched. Eve had always told me that nobody seriously fought with two weapons. I guess she was wrong. The fucker wasn’t even trying, just batting my blade aside like
a cat with a piece of string.

  “Little help here, lemon,” I shouted.

  Maeve had unbound her hands and was tracing symbols on her arms and face with her own blood. “Give me some time, this is fiddly.”

  I kept on hacking at him. I wasn’t really getting anywhere, but if he wanted to fanny about, that was okay by me. Suddenly he spun his whole body a quarter circle and his hair lashed around my sword arm.

  Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.

  Maggots crawled up my sleeve, and he pulled me off balance, bringing his blades level with my throat and heart.

  “Wolde yow batayl for luf,” he said, with a mocking smile, “þenne yowre luf is ful wayke.”

  I didn’t know what medieval smack he was talking, but he was really getting on my wick. I made another attempt to reach my mother’s power. I caught a taste of blood and spite, but nothing came. Well, thanks, Mum. I was starting to get the feeling that this had been a bad deal. My mum was in a huff, and Nim wasn’t pulling her weight.

  A silver mist stirred the petals on the floor. Very pretty, but not exactly helpful.

  And then I felt a hand on mine.

  I twisted my sword in a C-shaped arc and sliced through his hair, spilling maggots and filth onto the floor. He stabbed at me, and I sprang back out of reach. He came at me, whirling both swords in overlapping figure eights. I could hear them cutting the air like helicopter blades. I really wanted to get the fuck out of the way, but something made me hold my ground. I realised with a sudden clarity that while the mincing machine technique looked scary as hell, the pattern itself was rigid and predictable. I picked my moment and thrust. To my amazement, my sword passed between his blades and plunged into his side. I flew out, parrying his counterattack on the way.

  He paused, looking down at the wound. Pale, pus-white fluid was slicking down his skin. He flicked back what was left of his hair and laughed. It was a joyous, seductive sound, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  He came at me again, even faster this time. And, instead of the windmill of death, his blades whirled through the air, without rhythm or pattern. It was a merciless onslaught, a flurry of steel and chaos. I searched for an opening, but he was moving so quickly and so unpredictably that by the time I’d found one, he was somewhere else.

  It wasn’t long before I was backed into a corner, frantically warding off a hail of blows. I reckoned I could keep that up for all of eight seconds. It turned out I didn’t even have that option. As I brought my sword up to defend myself, he hooked one of his blades behind mine and pushed the other forwards like he was turning a winch. My wrist twisted back, my hand opened, and the sword fell out of my grip.