If Rose’s allies kept running, they would eventually tire. They would make mistakes, or get whittled down.
In the now, however, Rose knew they needed respite. They needed a chance to get everything in order, and plan, or discuss.
The hymn passing through her lips, she realized they did have one answer.
She gestured at Ty, and it maybe said something that she’d reached out to him, that she’d thought of him as quickly as she did.
She touched her index fingers together at the second knuckle, one horizontal, one vertical.
“Cross? Religion?” Alister asked.
“Church,” Ty said.
Quicker than most gave him credit for. Creative.
“Sanctuary,” Alister said. “Except-”
Rose shook her head. She repeated the gesture. The hymn continued, almost an afterthought.
“The church is far away,” Alister said. “And they’re-”
He looked back. Rose joined him, glancing back. She caught a glimpse of the imp, following at a greater distance, slowly backing off, but she didn’t see the lawyers at all.
They’d relocated. Taken another path, or headed to another destination.
Rose feared they’d beat her group to their next destination as well.
If they didn’t, well, that was almost as bad. It meant they were up to something else altogether.
“Enchantment,” the little girl said. She was part of a smaller group, including Laird’s boys and Evan.
Rose’s ability to follow the girl’s line of thought was almost interrupted by her recollection that Johannes’ music could captivate children. In the children’s story, the Pied Piper had rounded up all the children of Hamelin.
“Enchantment,” Alister said. “Another vestige?”
“Helping,” the girl said, between pants.
It was, Rose realized. Now that she looked for it, she could see how the route was getting clearer, shorter. They were skipping the occasional city block.
Reeled in, she thought.
She stopped singing the hymn, in part because she was getting out of breath. The imp was gone, faded into the shadows of the sunless sky above them.
They reached the church in half the time it should have taken, and there were no enemies waiting for the there.
Sandra stood at one side of the door, alone, no Duchamps with her.
Mags stood on the other side.
Rose’s group was sweating despite the cold, panting, many of them with lungs and throats raw from sucking in gasps of cold air.
“Thank you,” Rose told Sandra.
“I dread the explanations,” Sandra said. “But we’ll need to hear them.”
Rose nodded.
Her teeth were chattering, and it wasn’t entirely due to the cold. The adrenaline was still thrumming through her, and Conquest wasn’t keeping it all at bay anymore.
She wasn’t sure if that had something to do with the damage that had been done to Conquest through Fell, or if it was just that she was reaching the end of her rope.
“May we come in?” Rose asked.
“You may,” Sandra said. “Single file, please. If you’re a regular councilgoer, please reaffirm that this is sanctuary.”
Rose nodded again.
Alister was the first to go through the door, pausing to say, “I ask for and support the sanctuary here, established when the town was new.”
He moved on. Rose followed. She didn’t consider herself regular enough to matter, and she was too tired to find the words.
“Hey Blake,” Mags greeted her.
Blake stirred within Rose.
Rose frowned.
She turned, saw that Nick was behind her, and reached to Nick’s side, drawing the man’s machete from his side, metal gliding against sheath.
She swung the weapon around, stopping just shy of swinging it into the side of Mags’ throat.
Mags blinked. “Um.”
“As I recall, there’s only one faerie in Jacob’s Bell that’s that bad with names,” Rose said.
“I-” Mags started. She shook her head, blinking hard. “I’m not a faerie. I’m Mags. Born human, still human, as far as I can tell. Ambassador. I was using my Sight to scan you guys. You look a lot different when the perspective changes more toward the mystical.”
“She’s not lying. I asked her to screen everyone,” Sandra said. “For the record, I’m glancing over each of you as well.”
Rose’s hand shook as she lowered the machete.
She handed it back to Nick.
On a level, she felt almost delirious, making her way to the front of the Church.
Others were gathered within. The faceless woman, the revenant. Summoned things. Goblins. Practitioners from Sandra’s camp. Scattered Behaims. The junior council. The Briar Girl.
Ellie was here, as were Andy and Eva. Ellie sat alone, looking very bewildered.
Mara was absent, but that wasn’t a great surprise.
Still in there, Blake? she wondered.
Blake stirred.
A little less active, recently. Had he hurt himself, moving things around? Or had Conquest hurt him, during one of the instances where she’d drawn on Conquest for power?
Or was he just being good, trying to minimize damage?
She noted the entry of the mermaid into the church. The mermaid gravitated toward the faceless woman and revenant. At the back, while Rose was right at the front. The mermaid was seated before Rose even reached the front row.
Rose found a spot by Alister. A part of her wondered if she should sit there, or if it would be weird. She’d never dated, never had friends, even. The memories in her head were of dating girls, but Blake hadn’t been so kind, or so unkind, as to give her the attraction or anything like that. They were incidental elements, hastily carved out and included in the collection of memories meant to imply familiarity, teamwork, friendship, bonds.
Now, removed from everything, it felt weird to sit beside Alister.
Need to get Blake out, she thought. It wasn’t a healthy thing, to keep him so close. Either he would spread his influence and start to take her over, she would digest him, or they’d remain like they were, and steadily erode one another.
The Thorburns were settling in just behind her. Ellie had gravitated this way.
It made for an odd combination, with the Behaims having already positioned themselves in anticipation of Alister taking the customary spot of the Behaim leader.
A bit of a family reunion, this. Rose twisted around in her seat, arm on the back of the pew, to look at them.
“Callan’s dead,” Peter said. “Kathy’s gone the way of the monster. Not sure what’s going to happen there.”
“Okay,” Paige said, quiet. “I don’t know how to feel about that.”
Peter shrugged, “It is what it is. You can hate them and still be sad that family met a bad end.”
“Why hate him?” Christoff asked. “He sacrificed himself in the end.”
“And he made my life hell,” Peter said. “I’m supposed to forgive?”
Rose had tensed. It was, very possibly, a very bad sentiment to express so loudly in this church, around so many individuals and groups who had reason to hate diabolists, while Rose’s efforts in the other direction were comparatively very small and very recent.
Christoff was scowling, but he hadn’t argued.
“So. Sister. What’s with… that?” Peter asked.
“That?”