“You were in a hurry,” Cassiel said, as if all this was the most normal thing in the world. She began taking bottles out of her pockets and setting them out in front of her. Luis added his, and I gave up all of mine except for the one that contained Venna. There was no way I was risking her getting out, not until we had some way to control her.
I looked around. The buildings were toast, shattered and leveled, and black smoke still poured out of some of the holes that were left. I’d done a good job of directing the initial damage from the blast; pretty much the entire compound was gone, but only inside the fence. Even the guard towers seemed to still be okay, although I wouldn’t go climbing them without good reason. A gleaming Harley-Davidson motorcycle was parked just outside of the fence, as was the Boss, which no longer gleamed; it was covered in layers of grit and grime. As dusty as it was, it could have been there for years.
I saw no signs of anyone else. I guessed that Dr. Reid had finally come down on my side, and hustled the skeleton crew off the base and into total evac mode. Good. I would have shouldered the burden, but I was so, so glad I didn’t have to do it.
“We’re not the only ones who were headed this way,” Rocha said, and accepted a bottle of water from Cassiel out of the pack she was carrying. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was dressed in white motorcycle leathers. They were immaculate, even after all the scrambling around down and up the tunnel. She passed me water as well, and took the last bottle for herself.
It wasn’t until the liquid hit my tongue that I realized how incredibly parched I was, and I sucked down the bottle so fast that the plastic crackled in protest. I drained the whole thing in a rush, then had to sit down as it filled my stomach. Right, that was too fast. I kept it down, but it was a struggle.
Once the discomfort faded, I looked down at myself. Ugh. Not pretty. My body was mostly healed, but there was no helping the filthy coating of blood and dirt I was wearing, or the ragged clothes. The lab coat had helped, but it was shredded and so bloodstained I might have been an extra in a chain saw massacre movie. A dead one.
It occurred to me, belatedly, what Rocha was telling us. “Who else is on the way?”
“Cops, fire, every federal agency still in business, probably. Maybe the military. This wasn’t some small-time target, you know. It’s going to get a lot of attention.”
Well, that’s what I’d intended—just not from the human world. “So I suppose the smart thing to do is . . .”
“Seal up the tunnel, contain the radiation, and get the hell out of Dodge? Yeah. That’d be it.” Rocha was taking his time with his water, which I wished I’d done, but he was almost finished. He tipped it back and drained the last mouthful, then tossed it down the tunnel.
“Bad recycler,” I said, and tossed mine in with it.
“Jo, you brought down the whole fucking complex. I don’t think water bottles really count at this point.”
He held out his hand to Cassiel as he stood, and she rose to match him. Their hands linked, and I felt the low hum of power start to build.
“We should help,” I said to David. He shook his head.
“No, you need to rest. So do I. Let other people do the work for a while.”
Not really my style, but I could see his point. While they were filling in the tunnel—I could feel the rumble under my feet—I rooted around in Cassiel’s pack and found another bottle of water. Probably wasteful, but I stripped off the lab coat and then my shirt underneath, which wasn’t quite as filthy. I used it as a washcloth to swipe blood and dirt off my face, arms, and hands. Short of calling up a gully-washing rain, there wasn’t much I could do to get any cleaner until we reached civilization. Or at least a bathroom.
Dust plumed out of the collapsing tunnel, but we were out of line of the blast, luckily. I felt the long burn of the radiation through the soil, but even that was dialing back to a low background hum as Rocha and Cassiel put their blocks in place. It took about five minutes, and I heard the distant call of sirens in the distance before they were finished.
Funny, I’d have thought it was later—it seemed like days had gone by—but the sun was just now slipping toward the horizon, turning the whole landscape a fierce blood red.
I used the lab coat to wrap up the Djinn bottles, and stuffed them into Cassiel’s pack. “Try not to fall on that,” I said. “That would be bad.”
She looked at me with those odd green eyes, and cocked an eyebrow. Very Mr. Spock, it seemed to me, although she probably didn’t even know what that would mean. As Djinn went, she was very much out of the pop culture loop.
“Do you imagine I like enslaving my own?” she asked. “Having done it, do you think I would like for them to win their freedom and come after me?”
I hadn’t really considered it, but Cassiel was a Djinn through and through, in every way except her physiology, which was stone-cold human . . . except that she couldn’t survive without a Warden partner to replenish her energy stores. She’d never liked people, and she really had never liked Wardens. So this had been a dramatic step for her to take, and one that indicated how human she was really becoming.
Right now I was pretty sure that she loathed it.
I inclined my head to her without another word, and after a long stare, she looked away, toward the horizon where there was a distant glitter of fast- moving vehicles. “We need to go,” she said. “Now. The Djinn will be back on us soon, and we don’t need the entanglements with humans.”
I thought—but didn’t say—that we were actually in a much stronger position now, with all the bottled Djinn at our command. Some of them would be royally pissed, and would do everything in their power to sabotage us, but I thought most of them would understand why we’d done it, and how vital it was for them to put aside their personal issues until we could put Mother Earth back to a sound, restful sleep.
Then they could—and probably would—kill us just for the principle of the thing. The absolute last thing the Djinn wanted was Wardens getting their hands on bottles again. The cooperation the Djinn had originally given, thousands of years ago, had come back to bite them in a big, big way; many of them, David included, had suffered through centuries (or even millennia) of harsh servitude at the hands of Warden masters.
They’d kill to prevent it from happening again, and now Cassiel, Luis and I were a big risk to them.
“One problem at a time,” I said. “Let’s get the hell out. Any ideas where to go?”
Rocha shrugged. “It’s all pretty much apocalyptic, so take your pick. We were going to head to Sedona.”
Fate seemed to want me to go there, but Imara had very clearly said don’t. I couldn’t understand why, but I was willing to take it on faith; my daughter had risked a lot to come help me here, even for a few minutes. I didn’t want to put her in even more danger.
“David?” I looked at him for a suggestion, and he smiled a little.
“Trouble finds us,” he said. “Let’s head for where the Wardens are gathering. That’s where they can use us, and the Djinn you claimed.”
He was hiding it well, but I could tell that he hated the whole claiming thing even more than Cassiel. He was angry with himself, because he’d been the one to think of it. The one to find the bottles and deliver them.
He could rationalize it, but he’d never be able to excuse it. I knew David way too well. Like me, he took on too much and felt too much. His predecessor as Conduit for the Djinn, Jonathan, would have been able to shrug it off as necessary, and that would have been the end of the story. Not David.
I ached for him, but in this, I agreed with my imaginary Jonathan: it was necessary. We’d release them as soon as we could, but for now, it was the only way to keep any balance to this fight.