A practice in truth, p.17
A Practice in Truth, page 17
When they brought me to my room, Loki was sitting in a chair, waiting like a visitor. I’d felt a strain on the tether several times while I was away from him, but he could only go as far as I’d let him, which wasn’t far. I set my little bag on the bedside table and looked at him, waiting. It didn’t take long for him to present his case.
As soon as the nurse left, he leaned toward me, and kept his voice low. “Look, you need to release me from this... whatever you want to call it. Fomor and Jotun do not have my best interests at heart.”
They’d finally given me some meds for the pain in my head, but it hadn’t kicked in yet, so I didn’t feel like laughing, even ironically. “Whatever Fomor and Jotun do with you, I’m pretty sure you deserve it.”
“For what?” He jerked back as if I’d slapped him. “For ensuring that the body and the stone were in the same place at the same time? Forgive me, but I’m not the villain here.”
“I heard her during the auction. Her voice was in my head. She was aware the whole time, and you kept her prisoner instead of returning her to Gant, for DECADES.” My voice rose and my head throbbed in protest. I sat back and closed my eyes, willing the medication to take effect. “The Celestial court will try and probably convicted you. And I won’t lift a finger to stop them.”
“That is an unfortunate attitude, and one I’m afraid I can’t allow to continue. He stood up and approached the bed. It was only then that I noticed the knife in his hand.
Sasha? I don’t mind admitting that my thought was edged with panic. I just didn’t have the strength to fight anyone, let alone a... whatever he was.
The wyvern erupted from the table, sending slivers of plastic bag everywhere. He didn’t stop growing until he was the size of a horse, his wings sheltering me.
Loki stumbled backward, tripped and fell into the chair, the knife clattering to the floor.
Can I eat him, Char? I’ve never tasted a demon before. He broadcast the thought, making sure Loki heard.
I would have replied in the same way, except telepathy isn’t a talent of mine. It only works with Sasha and, when they want it to, the soul stones I’d encountered.
So, I spoke out loud. “Not in here. You want to satisfy your curiosity, take him outside first.”
“I am not a demon,” Loki protested. “I am Nephilim, whatever others may say.”
“According to Norse mythology, you’re the god of mischief and lies. I don’t see any of the others pretending to deity,” I said dryly. “And when you decide to attack a woman in a hospital bed, the title ‘demon’ seems to fit pretty well.”
A blush of red stained his cheeks. “There seems to have been a misunderstanding.”
“Hard to misunderstand a knife in your hand while you stand over my hospital bed.”
The door swung open. “Ah, Loki. I can see you are in fine form.” Fomor walked in, one hand on the hilt of his sword. How he’d gotten past the nurse’s station with it, I didn’t know. Nor did I care. “She saves your life and now you want to murder her?”
“I was not going to murder her. Just a little blood bond, so she’d let me go.”
I sat up, outrage simmering. “You were going to bind me to you? Against my will?”
“Just temporarily.” Loki had the grace to look ashamed. “In my defense you left me no choice.”
Fomor reached out and slipped a leather thong around Loki’s wrist. Loki didn’t protest but looked at me pleadingly. “I’ll never make it to the court, you know. He’ll let Gant kill me.”
I looked at Fomor. “Give me your word that you will see justice done, by legal means.”
Fomor’s brows arched high. “I am a stranger to you. How do you know my word is good?”
“Gant trusted you with Sena’s life. You came when he called. That speaks to honor. And angels don’t lie. The Fallen might, but that’s not what you are, is it?”
He bowed — just a hint of a bend at the waist. “Angels do not lie, and whatever else I have become, I am still a member of the Host, if only in name.”
Looking at him, I had a feeling there was more to it than that, but all that concerned me right then was that I could trust his word. “Then swear it.”
“I swear, Loki will come to no harm in my custody, and I will deliver him to the Celestial court for judgment.” He slipped the other end of the leather thong over his own wrist. “Now, if you will release him?”
Sighing, I let go of the tether. The rope of power released and slipped back into the ley lines. My headache immediately eased, and I could have cried with relief.
“I’m curious. How will you keep him from escaping? He seems to have a talent for it.”
“I resent being spoken of as if I am not here. I—”
Fomor swung his fist into Loki’s jaw and the Fallen’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He slumped and Fomor caught, then hoisted Loki over his shoulder.
“He can’t escape if he isn’t conscious,” Fomor said. An instant later, they were gone, traveling through the Shift to wherever the Celestial court was being held. Or at least I assumed so. I was too tired to worry about it right then.
Umm, Char?
My eyes were almost closed. Sleep was so close I could taste it. “What?”
What should we do with this? Something cold and metallic dropped onto the bed next to me and I looked down. It was Loki’s knife. The Javanese kris I’d seen him with at the museum, its wavy blade gleaming in the low light of the hospital room.
Crap. The last thing I needed was another artifact to dispose of or hide. I held my hand over it. There was a faint tingle, but nothing powerful. Maybe an aiming spell? I didn’t know, and I was too tired to try to figure it out.
“Just put it...” I trailed off, realizing the bag was toast after Sasha’s dramatic entrance. “In with my clothes. I’ll figure out what to do with it later.”
The last thing I remember is Sasha’s wing brushing over me as he did what I asked.
EPILOGUE
HAWTHORNE HOUSE
It took them three days to release us from the hospital. Zel visited, bringing PJs and toiletries for Lena and me.
Loki checked himself out before I came back from my CT scan, so they weren’t even looking for him. Instead, they kept grumbling about long-term lung damage until I was ready to walk out AMA. Finally, the doc realized we were both witches and set us up with spirometers — a little gadget that tests lung capacity.
We both passed. Thank you parahuman constitution.
Sadly, that was not the end of things. Two days later, I found a suspension notice in my mailbox. Prowder had filed a complaint against me with DMES (Department of Magickal Effectiveness and Safety).
I groaned. Since they hadn’t shown up at the hospital, I was really hoping not to have to deal with them this time around. At least they hadn’t sent Marcus to talk to me. I could spare Lena that much.
Prowder alleged I lied about having a client with an interest in some of the museum’s artifacts, which was kind of true. She also asserted that I had stolen said artifacts, murdered Draxley, and set the museum on fire. None of which was even a little true.
MacAllen hadn’t brought charges because he had no evidence, other than my presence at the museum. He wasn’t even saying Draxley was dead, though for the museum director’s sake, I really hoped he was.
But the DMES wasn’t taking any chances. They suspended me pending adjudication and possibly trial. I could not practice law until we cleared things up.
“Son of a bitch.” Suddenly tired, even though it was only ten a.m., I trudged back in the house, grabbed my laptop, and crawled into bed.
One hand hovered over the keyboard while the other toyed with the amethyst hanging around my neck. I hadn’t taken Doirsain off since they released me from the hospital, and something was tugging at my thoughts like a cat teasing threads from a ball of yarn.
“Sasha?”
Hmmm? He sounded sleepy, as if he’d been dozing, but I didn’t feel like being polite.
“Someone at the museum mentioned the Clochroi...”
Did they? All signs of sleepiness vanished from his tone.
“I didn’t have time to think it through then, but they had to have been referring to Sena’s heart.”
Yes. The tension in that single word made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. If Sena’s heart was a soul stone, then...
“They’re all — the soul stones are all angel’s hearts, aren’t they?”
Sasha crawled out from under my shirt, grew to cat size and took up a position on the bed beside me. They became stones — gems — when they were carved from the angel’s still living chests.
I winced. “And their bodies?”
Gone. Destroyed or left to rot where they fell. Long held anger and frustration rumbled under his thoughts to me, and I was tempted to let the matter drop, but I needed to know what I was carrying through the world on a chain around my neck.
“But each of them has different powers?”
Each of them was an individual, with individual strengths. Doirsain was a powerful warrior, stronger than any other in her cadre. And she shared her strength. Anyone who fought alongside her gained skill, tenacity, power. Is it any wonder she continues to share her strength now?
Which meant Solcruth had been a maker, before they killed him. Lapis-Vitae was a healer. I looked at Sasha, waiting for him to continue, but he was going to make me ask. So, I did.
“And the guardians? Why do some stones, like Doirsain and Lapis-Vitae, have guardians and others, like Solcruth, don’t?”
Most angels form attachments as siblings, not lovers. But sometimes, the bond goes deeper. Sena and Gant were a mated pair long before Benat ripped her heart from her body.
“So, the guardians are the mates...” My voice trailed off, clogged with emotion.
Just so. Had her body been destroyed, Gant would likely have chosen to be Sena’s guardian. As it was, she became the first soul stone. Unfettered because Benat didn’t have time to curse her.
“Unfettered? How could you chain something as powerful as a soul stone? You mean put in a setting?” But I knew that couldn’t be right. Sena’s heart was set in gold and alabaster.
No. You recall the rules of transfer?
I nodded, and he continued.
Sena was the first soul stone. Gant found her body and preserved it. For the others, this wasn’t possible. Gawain’s murderer threw his body on a pyre and burned it. Ferrin’s left hers to rot, and by the time her beloved found it...
Raw emotion rolled over me from Sasha. Grief and rage and ancient regret. I waited and after several moments, he recovered himself and went on.
Once he realized the power he held, Gawain’s killer cursed his stone, and all others made afterward, with being fettered whether they had a guardian or not. Unable to move through the world at their own behest, tied to their owner until released voluntarily as a gift, or taken as a prize. If the stone had a guardian, they were cursed in the same way.
Horror sent shivers up my spine. “That’s barbaric.”
Many creatures are. Now you understand why Caraigama was so determined to remain free. They’d been enslaved for two thousand years and wanted no more of it.
Thinking back on the non-binary time-stone’s insistence that they would serve no one, ever again, I did understand, finally.
“You don’t usually think of a stone as a living being,” I said. “Is there a way to set her — them — free?”
You did not create the curse, and you cannot break it. The demon who authored it left no loopholes, and no way out.
“Then I won’t use her anymore,” I said, and a tremor radiated out from Doirsain, making my body shake.
And shall I spend the next century or two locked in a drawer? Doirsain’s voice slid gently through my mind, almost as if her words were my thoughts. I think not. I was created for service and serve I shall. Just don’t get yourself killed, and when your time comes, give me to someone worthy.
I will make sure of it, my love. Sasha’s voice was louder in my head, but just as determined as Doirsain’s.
“Should I call you Ferrin?”
No. The answer was emphatic and spoken by both of them at the same instant.
That name belongs to someone long dead. Using it can only bring pain, Doirsain said.
Will you put us away for now, Char? Sasha asked. It has been a rough few days, and we are tired.
I suspected he wanted to be alone with Doirsain, who was once called Ferrin. I understood. As I shut the drawer, tears welled. At least they were together, but their story made me feel like crying.
Sighing, I opened my laptop and yelled for Lena. If I was going to be disbarred, she should know about it.
Her footsteps pounded up the stairs, and she poked her head in. I gestured her inside, and she sat on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on?”
“A lot,” I said. “First, I got a letter from DMES this morning, certified and everything. Prowder filed a complaint.”
“Crap.”
“I agree, but that isn’t all.” I explained the rest of what I’d learned while opening my email, where I got my third big surprise of the day. “Hey, here’s a note from Gant,” I said as I scanned it. “Do me a favor, get your laptop and check our bank balance?”
Lena hustled out and returned a moment later with her computer. After pulling up the banking site, her mouth dropped open. “This is way more than we usually charge, Char.”
The number she quoted me spiraled me into a coughing fit. It was enough to keep us afloat for several months. Longer if we were frugal.
At least I’d be able to pay the bills, even if I couldn’t work.
“What does Gant have to say other than that he paid us?” Lena asked.
“Here. Read it for yourself.” I spun the laptop around and handed it to her. She set hers aside and read.
Dear Ms. Knox,
I wanted to thank you for your assistance in my case. I have rarely found a being so dedicated and determined as you have been, and we appreciate your help. Sena is on the mend and sends her regards. She asked me to apologize for her initial reaction when she woke, and to tell you that if you ever need anything, you are to call on us. We will be there.
I have deposited a sum into your account which I believe should cover your retainer. Please let me know if it does not. Also, please send the bills for whatever damages you may have incurred while in my employ, and I will pay them.
I understand you suffered some injuries which were not apparent when I last saw you. Please understand that I would never have left you alone had I thought you were in any danger. My apologies for not anticipating the events that led to your hospitalization. Do not worry about the bills. We will cover those, too.
Mr. Marsh has informed me that they have suspended you from practicing law. He also mentioned that they’ve accused you of several misdeeds which occurred during the course of our investigation. I assure you, these charges will not stand. I will write an affidavit detailing your work for me, and if necessary, I will attend the first hearing to ensure that you are exonerated.
Thank you again for your help. I cannot adequately express my feelings at having finally, after so many years, reached a successful conclusion to my quest. Having had such a treasure restored to me is more than I ever thought possible.
Yours sincerely,
Professor Gant Santos
Lena handed the laptop back. “Well, that is unexpected.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “That’s one way to put it,” I said. “The pay alone is way over the top.”
“What I don’t understand is how he knew Prowder had filed a complaint. You only found out about it today.”
“He says Marsh told him. But how did Marsh know?”
“I don’t—”
The phone chimed on my bedside table, and I reached for it. “Hello?”
“Ms. Knox? Brandon Marsh. I have a job for you.” His voice was just as velvet over gravel sexy as the first time I’d spoken to him.
Putting the phone on speaker, I mouthed ‘Brandon Marsh’ to Lena.
“I, um. I can’t take clients right now. They suspended my law license. At least, temporarily.”
“I know that,” he said impatiently. “I want you to talk to an old client of mine. As a PI.”
“But I don’t have a license for that either.”
“You’re my apprentice, right? Meet my client tomorrow at your office. Goddess above, why is everything an argument with you?”
Heat climbed from my pajama collar up to my temples. “Now wait just a minute...”
“We’ll be there tomorrow, ten a.m. I’d appreciate it if you had some coffee ready.” The line went dead.
We?
“What a jerk!” Lena said.
“Yep. And I’m going to make him pay for it in cold, hard cash.” Maybe being suspended wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
A Note From the Author:
I hope you enjoyed reading A Practice in Truth as much as I did writing it. I love these characters and look forward to telling more of their stories.
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So, until next time, fair fortune to you, and keep watching for the magic,
Leigh Roman
