Tell the Wind and Fire(10)

They use our blood for power. But we need them in order to live.

That is why Dark magicians and all those whose families have produced Dark magicians live in Dark cities, rounded up and kept close to centers of Light, confined and controlled. We cannot afford to be without them.

We need them. That is the truth everybody knows and nobody speaks. That’s why we resent them and fear them and tell stories describing how they are evil, how they deserve all they get and we deserve all that we have.

People always hate those they rely on.

I should know. As Mark spoke, I held his hand fast, leaned against him, smiled for the cameras in the circle of his protection, and I could not imagine hating anyone more.

“My nephew and his dear friend Lucie Manette have just been through a terrifying ordeal. They are in no condition to speak in public as yet. We will of course be releasing a statement in the very near future. We thank you for your consideration at this trying time,” Mark said as the bodies pressed in and the lights flashed, hot and close and relentless.

Nobody challenged Mark Stryker. Nobody ever did.

We didn’t have to speak. We were moving out under the glass dome, almost through to the escalators of Thirty-Fourth Street, when we caught up with the others. Ethan had tight hold of Carwyn’s elbow; I ran up and caught Carwyn’s free hand, linking my fingers with his. I saw Mark strip off one glove, the supple leather crumpled in his fist, and touch Ethan’s shoulder with a heavy ringed hand.

Then I saw Penelope, my father’s best friend. She was running down the passage lined with small stores, past a bakery with a bright yellow sign. Her coat was flapping open and her rings were blazing, and I knew why she had come. I knew who she was there about.

“We had the television on,” she said breathlessly, “and the news started talking about you and Ethan. There wasn’t any warning, no way to prepare him, and he’s having one of his spells again.”

The one thing that could have torn me away from Ethan right then: my father.

“I have to go to him,” I said. “I have to show him that I’m all right.”

Mark Stryker did not look devastated to be parted from me. “Naturally you do. I’ll send you and Dr. Pross in one of our cars.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t spare him much of a smile. We were almost clear of the cameras.

I waited until we were out on the streets, people pushing impatiently past us. The purring and screeching of cars, the tap of men’s business shoes, and the click of women’s business heels formed an orchestra of city sounds that would screen what I had to say.

“Ethan, a word,” I said, and dropped Carwyn’s hand.

It felt like a betrayal, like letting him down, when he hadn’t let Ethan down. I looked away from him, dark-hooded and silent on that bright busy street. I did not look at Mark. I looked to Ethan.

I dragged him a little away from Mark, Penelope, and the doppelganger.

“Go to your dad,” Ethan said. “I’ll sort everything out with Mark. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not worried,” I said. “Because I know I can count on you to do the right thing and take care of Carwyn.”

Ethan’s eyebrows rose. “I’m pretty sure Carwyn can take care of himself.”

“I’m pretty sure he can’t,” I said. “Because he’s a doppelganger in the Light city, and that means he is in danger. He helped you when you were in danger. I have to go to my father, but you have to promise me that you will help him.”

Ethan bit his lip. I looked back at Mark Stryker and saw how far he was standing from Carwyn. People on the street, those determinedly indifferent city people, were looking at Carwyn’s hooded head.

I wanted to say, I know what it’s like to be buried, to be scheming in the Dark and scared of the Light. I know that saving someone else comes at a price. But I didn’t want Ethan to think of the similarities between the doppelganger and me.

“Ethan,” I said instead. “Please.”

Ethan looked at me, his eyes amber in the city lights. “Lucie,” he said, “I’ll do my best. I promise. For you.”



Penelope and her husband, Jarvis, lived in a vast brick building in midtown, not too far away from the theater district. Their apartment was a narrow snake of a living place, scarcely more than one large room divided into slivers. So, basically, it was a nice modern New York apartment and would have been nicer if they had not given their second bedroom to two people who had stumbled in from the Dark and stayed.

Dad and I had a curtain separating our bedroom into two rooms. Penelope and Jarvis had a Japanese screen between their bed and little Marie’s.