No, my fear wasn’t for myself. It was for the others. Fear for Finn, even Roslyn. And what the elemental might have already done to them — or would do. Despite her promise, Alexis James might decide to have a little fun with her food. And I wondered whether or not they could survive it until I got there.
Carved out of one of the taller mountains in the area, the Ashland Rock Quarry squatted like a leper on the edge of town. At one time the quarry had been one of the focal industries in the city, employing thousands of folks. But whatever rock or ore or gemstones had been hidden under the earth had long been exhausted, and now the quarry stood empty, with only the murmur of the stones to break the silence. The only people who came here these days were dwarves who tapped into the sheer walls of the quarry with their small pickaxes, looking for something sparkly to take back home to the kids.
We arrived at the rock quarry fifteen minutes before our time was up. I approached the area from the south, taking a little-used access road I remembered running across more than once as a kid. The same access road Bria and I used to hopscotch down as children.
“Have you been here before?” Caine asked. The first words he’d spoken to me since we’d left the apartment. “Not many people know about this road.”
“When I was a kid, I used to come out here and play sometimes.”
The detective gave me a strange look, but he didn’t pry. I didn’t offer any more information, like the fact I’d also come to the quarry to listen to the stones talk to me. To attune myself to the different vibrations they gave off. To practice my magic. To find a bit of peace in a world that had been turned upside down.
“What about you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just for the occasional body dump. It was a popular site a few years ago. We still come out here several times a year. In the spring, Cliff and I—”
I never learned what Cliff and he did in the spring. Caine shut up and stared out the window. Brooding. About me, about us, about the fact I’d hadn’t told him why I’d murdered his partner. And that maybe, just maybe, Cliff Ingles had gotten exactly what he’d deserved.
A few minutes later, I slid the car into a stand of maple trees about a mile out from the quarry, parked it, and got out. So did Donovan Caine, who turned to face me across the hood.
“Why are you stopping?” Caine asked. “We’re not that close to the quarry.”
“Because you’re not coming in with me.”
“Why not?”
“Alexis James is an Air elemental,” I said. “You won’t stand a chance against her.”
“And you will?”
I nodded. “Like it or not, I can do things you won’t let yourself, detective. Besides, Alexis is expecting me to come alone. She won’t like the company. It will make her twitchier than she already is. I’m going to get her attention, have her focus on me. Your job is to circle around behind her and get Finn and Roslyn out of there — no matter what. Alexis is sure to have Stephenson with her and probably those two goons from the country club. You need to take them out if we have any chance of surviving this. Can you do that?”
The detective nodded.
“Good. Let’s get this over with.”
Donovan Caine looked at me a final time, and our eyes met. Gold on gray. I knew what he was thinking. The same thing I was. Two hours ago, we’d been buried inside each other. Now we were both probably on our way to our own deaths. Irony. Another fucking bitch.
Once more I felt that spark of softness in my chest, but I was careful not to let it show in my eyes or face. If he sensed it, if he was kind to me now, I wouldn’t be able to focus. Wouldn’t be able to do what needed to be done. A luxury I couldn’t afford. Not now, not ever.
Caine nodded his head at me. His way of saying good luck. Or good-bye. I was surprised he bothered with the nicety, given the near meltdown he’d had in my apartment. But the detective had bucked back up on the ride to the quarry. He knew he had to work with me a little while longer if he wanted to save Finn and Roslyn. Then — then he could turn on me.
Donovan Caine stepped away and melted into the shadows, heading toward the back side of the quarry. I waited until I couldn’t see him anymore, then squared my shoulders and started walking down an embankment to the front of the massive hole. As I strode along, I touched the various knives hidden on my body. One in either sleeve. Two more in my boots. One against the small of my back. The cold silverstone metal of the weapons comforted me, the way it always did. Alexis James might kill me, but I wasn’t going down easy.
I walked about half a mile before I saw the entrance to the quarry. The city had long ago given up keeping out the bums and wayward kids, and a rusty sign read Enter at your own risk. The remains of a tall iron gate ringed the entrance, but I stepped through a gap where someone had pried the bars loose, and headed inside.
The quarry was shaped like a deep, wide bowl that was over a mile wide. The walls of the quarry rose several hundred feet above my head. Bits of quartz flashed in the gray twilight, reminding me of cameras at a sporting event. For a moment, I felt like I was in some sort of ancient Roman coliseum. A gladiator forced to fight tigers and lions and other men just so I could see another sunrise. In a way, I supposed I’d been a gladiator since I was thirteen, always fighting to survive, and distancing myself from the ugly things I had to do in the process.
I never realized how fucking tired I was of it until right now.
I didn’t have to touch the stones to hear their vibrations. With so much of the raw element around me, the sound rang in my head, a low, steady drum, punctuated here and there by sudden beats of unease and anticipation. The stones knew something was wrong, that something had disturbed their slumber and the slow wear of the weather and years beyond the usual deer and squirrels and stupid, drunken kids who slipped from the high banks and fell to their deaths.
A milky white glow arched out beyond a curve in the rock. I’d seen that light before, when Alexis had flipped out at Donovan Caine’s cabin. She’d grabbed on tight to her magic already. The only way to make her let go was to kill her. I hoped I was strong enough to do it — for Fletcher.
I rounded the bend, and there she was.
Alexis James.
The Air elemental stood in the open about five hundred feet farther in the quarry, where the stone walls rose to their highest peak. The milky white light flickering on her palms bathed the bitch in an angelic glow she didn’t deserve.
Alexis’s elegant cocktail dress was gone. Or at least covered up. Now she was wearing the same black cloak she’d sported outside Donovan Caine’s cabin the night she’d come to torture and kill him. I wondered if she’d worn the same thing when she’d murdered Fletcher. If my mentor’s blood was trapped in the fabric. The billowing material made Alexis look like some wannabe wizard out of a Harry Potter book. It didn’t really go with the pearls that ringed her neck — or the large jet tooth that hung in the middle of the gleaming strand. The same necklace she’d worn in the fishing photo Gordon Giles had hidden away.
I eyed the rune. Power. Strength. Prosperity. The tooth was as big as my palm and polished to a high gloss. The rune was even bigger than the ruby sunburst Mab Monroe was so fond of wearing. Alexis James was showing off for me.