Ash and Quill(81)

Santi twisted loose from the lion that had come for him and ripped a glass vial from a loop on his belt. He threw it in the creature's face, and the distinctive, sickening odor of Greek fire blew into Jess's face and nearly made him retch. Where the liquid touched and clung, the lion burst into green fire and began to melt, but it was still moving. Santi fired into the thing's head but slipped and had to roll away as it leaped.

It kept coming for him until all that was left of the automaton was a metal skeleton and rage, and as Jess watched, the cables melted through and the whole thing collapsed in a melting inferno. The grass, Jess thought in alarm; they were in the middle of the stuff, and if the fire spread, it would go up like tinder. Santi must have had the same thought, because he took out a pouch of powder and threw it into the center of the fire. It guttered away into a surly, smoking ruin.

Wolfe's lion had one bullet hole in its head. Just one. And it was as still as the others, incredibly. Jess looked from it to Wolfe, who shook his head. "Nic shot it for me," he said. "I'm not that good. He took mine before he tried to take his. Stupid."

"Incredible," Thomas murmured, but he wasn't talking about Santi's accuracy. He was running his hands over the statue of a lion in front of him. "A new version, so strong; you see how the cables are attached? That's new. Pack hunters, just incredible. And stealthy. Very dangerous. The artistry it takes to create these-"

Khalila collapsed into a sudden sitting position, and Jess went to her, but she wasn't bleeding. Wasn't wounded. She was staring at the frozen lion in front of her, and her color had gone far too pale, her eyes too dead. She wasn't seeing the death she'd avoided, he thought. She was seeing that paper her cousin had brought.

Jess crouched next to her and said, "It was a diversion; you know that. Rafa was only meant to keep us occupied while the lions closed in."

Her lightless eyes shifted to lock on his face, but he didn't think she was actually looking. "Not just a diversion, though. None of the rest of us have family in service. He's taken them, Jess. He'll kill them."

"We don't know that," he said. It sounded hollow, and it felt like a lie. "Khalila-"

"I know. No quarter. I'm the first one to feel that bite. But I won't be the last. He'll come after everyone we love now. We'll have to get word to our families. Send them to safety." She finally looked up. "You're bleeding."

"Scratches," he said. "Dario's got worse." He silently offered her a hand up, and she took it and walked to the young Spaniard. Jess thought he'd never seen a look so vulnerable-and so relieved-as the one that flashed over Dario's face at the sight of Khalila, alive and safe.

Jess looked away and left them to it, whatever it was, because Morgan was rushing toward him.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes," he told her. "All right." And he put his arms around her, just for a moment. He was afraid for her and afraid of her, too; that made him feel weak and exposed. But then again, risk made the safe harbor of her embrace all the sweeter. Standing here, with these people, with her, was like coming to something that was better, and more dangerous, than any home he'd ever known.

It hit him in a rush that he did have family at risk here, too. "Brendan?" He pulled away and turned in a fast circle, looking for his brother. He'd been standing-where? There, near Glain and Morgan. "Brendan!"


      ///
       
         
       
        

His brother rose out of the grass almost as quietly as an automaton. "I thought it was best to hide, since all of you seemed to know what you were doing." He looked over the scene: the destroyed or defeated lions, the blackened, melted skeleton of the one that Santi had burned. The look Brendan turned on Jess was purely and completely impressed. "That," his brother said, "is the most flash thing I ever saw. I thought for certain you'd all be stew meat. One lion is bad enough. This . . . this is . . ."

"This is the Archivist coming after us," Jess said. "No more prison, no more captives. He just wants us all dead now. Even Thomas. Maybe especially Thomas."

"Then they shouldn't send these poor creatures to do it," Thomas said. "Morgan? Do you feel able to help me with rewriting a script?"

"No," Jess said instantly, but at the same time she said, "Of course."

Thomas looked from one of them to the other. "Which is it?"

"You need to save your strength," Jess told her in a fast whisper.