Hand of the God Read online

“Yeah, I’m fine. God, I loved that woman.” He sniffed a little, and then pulled himself together. “Anyway, that son of a bitch refused to leave my house until I could stand on my own again — even when I lashed out trying to make him go, wounded him real bad. I could cut just as deep as him, because he was my brother. You see what I’m saying?”

  “Um.” I frowned. “Not exactly.”

  He made a small, exasperated sound. “Nobody can hurt us as bad as family. The people we love,” he said. “Because all those hurtful things, they only matter when you care so damned much about the person saying them. If I didn’t love Charlie more’n almost anyone in the world, nothing he said would’ve bothered me. But it did, and I still forgave him every time … because no matter what came out of his mouth, I always knew he loved me, too.” He shrugged. “Words are cheap weapons, and they can never stand up against actions. The only thing that matters is what you do.”

  Okay. Now I got it.

  “Thanks, Chester,” I finally said. “I think I’ll go talk to my brother.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

  I stepped off to the side of the tunnel, letting everyone else walk past. Sadie gave me a pained look on the way, and I tried to convey my intentions with a smile that didn’t quite make it. She seemed to understand.

  Taeral slowed as he approached me. “You’ve no need to apologize,” he murmured without looking up. “I am certain you did not mean what you said.”

  “No, I really don’t think you are certain about that. In fact, I know you’re not.” I stood in front of him, blocking his path and forcing him to look at me. “It wasn’t your fault, period,” I said. “And I’m the world’s biggest asshole.”

  He sighed. “Must we do this now?”

  “Yes, we must,” I said, and threw my arms around him. “Go on, call me an asshole. You know you want to.”

  Taeral stiffened for a few seconds before he relented and hugged me back. “Is féid a diab’hael thrúc d’hromae,” he said roughly.

  It was a Fae curse, and it meant something like ‘may the devil break your spine.’

  Close enough.

  “All right, man,” I said as I stepped back. “Seriously, I know there isn’t enough sorry in the world, but I’m sorry anyway.” I knew damned well he’d still carry the guilt around heavier than usual for a while, but at least it was a start. “For now, let’s get the hell out of this tunnel.”

  He nodded and gestured ahead. “Lead the way.”

  “Think I’ll hang back here with you for a bit,” I said. “Chester and Rex, they’ve got this.”

  Taeral’s expression strongly disagreed, but he shrugged as he fell into step.

  The rest of the group had stopped about ten feet ahead. When we headed toward them, they broke apart and looked everywhere but at us, like they definitely hadn’t been watching the whole bro-hug thing. They milled around for a bit, until Sadie corralled them and got the procession moving again.

  “So, brother,” Taeral said as we trailed behind the others. “What’s prompted this sudden display of affection? I do hope you’ve not decided to sacrifice yourself regardless, and simply not tell anyone until we can do nothing to stop you.”

  His words hit a little too close to home. For most of last night, I’d been thinking exactly that. But eventually I’d settled on offering to join Milus Dei only as a last-minute strategy if everything else failed. “Let’s just say it’s not my first choice,” I hedged carefully. “As for the affection, I guess I have a serious case of the feels.”

  Taeral smirked, but the half-smile fell away fast. “I feel something powerful,” he said, the words dragging from his throat.

  “Yeah, I know.” My stomach gave a little twist. “I never should’ve opened my big mouth. But I swear to God, I didn’t mean—”

  “Not that, you fool. I am saying that I feel a great power. From there.” He pointed ahead. “Can you not sense it?”

  I started to say no, but then I felt it … and I wondered how the hell I’d missed it before now. It was a kind of thrumming wave, a kaleidoscope suggestion of light and sound and energy that infused everything around us. And I had no idea how I could tell, but it was old. As old as the earth.

  “You do feel it,” Taeral said, watching my face. “Perhaps it is him … Dante?”

  I shook my head slowly. “He wasn’t anything like this. His power was cold, like a stone. This is like …”

  “Fire,” Taeral half-whispered.

  “Yeah. That.”

  We broke into a run and caught up with the others, stopping them. “Guys, there’s something up there,” I said. “No idea what, except that it’s really strong and it’s not Dante.”

  “Great,” Chester grumbled. “I don’t suppose you could make us all invisible, could you?”

  “Uh, no,” I said, kind of wishing we’d brought some more backup after all. Like Donatti and Ian. The djinn had invisibility spells and a bunch of other useful stuff we didn’t — they could also fly, and travel any distance in seconds through mirrors. But I wouldn’t have felt right asking them to risk their lives for a sword.

  We’d have to work with what was available. Which, at the moment, was guns.

  I pulled mine and held it up briefly. “Just be ready to shoot anything that looks threatening,” I said as I lowered the gun to my side. Then I remembered Rex hadn’t been there when Santa Chester was passing out Uzis. “Rex, how are you on weapons right now?”

  “Are you kidding?” He reached into his jacket with both hands and produced two very large handguns. “This here’s Huff, and that’s Puff,” he said, shaking the monster guns one at a time. “And we will blow your ass down.”

  I grinned. “Got it. Let’s do this.”

  The tunnel rose up gradually for about another quarter of a mile and came to a wood-framed doorway. Taeral and I had taken the lead, and we gestured to slow the pace as we approached the frame. What was beyond it gradually came into view.

  It was a large, dug-earth room with mine tunnels leading off in separate directions from each of the four walls, including the one we were in. Torches blazed above the tunnels. There was a small jumble of rusted mining carts pushed into a corner, but the center of the room was obviously the main attraction. A barred prison cell with five padlocks on the door — and inside, a broad-shouldered, stout figure about four and a half feet tall, coarse and gray-streaked black hair falling to its waist, standing in the center with its back to us.

  The figure pivoted slowly as we eased through the doorway. It — he — had a long beard that matched his hair, with bits of twigs and leaves and what looked suspiciously like bone fragments braided into it at varying intervals. Thick, dark curled horns, like a ram’s, protruded from either side of his forehead. He wore layers of black with a knotted leather belt and massive black boots. His skin was mahogany, his face made of old leather and disgust as he glared at us with bright red, slotted goat’s pupils set in black eyes.

  “Ye’re Fae,” the short creature hissed in a voice like a crackling bonfire. “Should’ve just let those infants kill ye, even if ye do have our lodestone.”

  “What the hell…?” Is that, I failed to finish saying.

  “That,” Taeral said with a distinct blend of amazement and horror, “is a dwarf.”

  Chapter 19

  “The tunnel,” I said. “That was you?”

  The dwarf snorted. When he did, actual smoke plumed from his nostrils. “That was a mistake. If I’d known what ye were, I wouldn’t have saved ye. Especially that one.” He jerked his chin at Taeral, making the bones in his beard rattle. “Unseelie thief.”

  “Thief!” Taeral took a step toward the cage.

  “Aye, thief. Ye bear the lodestone, don’t ye?” His red pupils flared like demonic camera flashes. “Thick as the Fair Folk are, ye must know a gem that controls metal can only belong to dwarvenkind.”

  “It belonged to my father, you—”

  “Okay,” I said loudly. “First off, th
anks for saving us, even if you didn’t mean to. And second … er, you seem to be a prisoner. So it’s only fair if we save you, too.”

  “Save me!” The dwarf threw his head back and bellowed laughter, and I could’ve sworn I saw flames in his throat. “A wee halfling Fae bairn, an Unseelie thief, and … whatever ye lot are,” he said, his unsettling eyes flicking contemptuously across the others. “Humans, save for the moon cub, there.”

  Sadie didn’t even bristle at the name-calling. She was too busy staring in fascination.

  I gave a deliberate cough. “Uh, yeah. Save you,” I said. “You know, from the locked cage you’re in? I can open that.”

  The dwarf raised his thick eyebrows. “And ye think I can’t?”

  “Erm.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “If you can, why are you in there?”

  “Because it amuses me.” He pointed at the ceiling. “The hairless apes up there, they think they’re punishing me. I let ’em have their fun.”

  “You mean Milus Dei,” I said.

  “Aye, that’s what they call themselves.”

  I frowned. “So … just to be clear, you don’t want to be rescued,” I said. “You want us to leave you here.”

  “Like I said. Thick.” The dwarf tapped the side of his head, and then huffed smoke from his nose. “Faekyn offering to help a dwarf,” he grumbled. “As if Holdrun Sootbrow sought help from the Fair Folk when he created the Great Forge of Bharduhn, or when he battled the armies of the Dagdha across the dark plains of Ulna Scaeth. He’ll require nothing from ye lot to breach this prison.”

  “Uh, right.” I glanced back at Taeral, who shrugged slowly. He had no idea what any of that meant, either. “So I guess this Holdrun Sootbrow guy can save you, then.”

  The dwarf’s face plunged into a scowl. “Holdrun Sootbrow does not need saving! Get on with ye, halfling child, and take yer skulking thief and load of monkeys with ye.”

  It finally dawned on me. “You’re Holdrun Sootbrow.”

  “That’s right,” the dwarf said smugly.

  Taeral sneered. “Is that name supposed to impress us, dwarf?”

  “Scourge of Aghaeland? High master of forge and flame, Oathkeeper of the Western Gate?” Holdrun crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “My name is legend throughout the lands of Arcadia. How have ye not heard of me?”

  “Um. Okay.” I winced and turned away, hustling everyone back toward the edge of the room. When we were out of the dwarf’s earshot, I said, “Well, now we know where the tunnel came from, so there’s that. Anyone have an idea about how to get into their base from here?”

  “Why don’t we ask him?” Calla said with a nod in Holdrun’s direction.

  “He doesn’t seem very … cooperative. And he wants to be left alone.”

  Sadie stared at me. “So we’re really going to just leave him in that cage?”

  “Aye, love. We are.” Taeral sent a flat look across the room at the dwarf, who’d turned his back to us again. “If there is any true legend attached to the dwarves, it is that they are extraordinarily stubborn. It’s clear he wants nothing to do with us. Besides, he did claim to be perfectly capable of rescuing himself.”

  “Yeah, I think we’re on our own here,” I said, not without regret. I did want to help him. But how was I supposed to save someone who refused to be saved? “Anyway, we have to get up there somehow,” I said.

  Rex stepped forward. “Well, we know which tunnel not to use,” he said. “That leaves three. We could pair off and head down them—”

  “And how are we gonna let anyone else know what we find, or when we need backup?” Chester interrupted. “All the walkies were in the damned Hummer, and I don’t know about you, but I ain’t got the hang of telepathy yet.”

  “Look, we have no idea what we’re walking into here,” I said. “They could have a dozen more soldiers up there, or a hundred. And with sort-of-Dante in the mix, I don’t want to risk any more than we have to. We need to find Fragarach and get out.”

  “So, ye seek the Answerer,” Holdrun’s voice boomed out across the room. “Might be I can help ye with that.”

  I guessed we weren’t out of his earshot, after all.

  As I opened my mouth to answer him, Taeral grabbed my shoulder. “Do not be quick to trust a dwarf,” he said. “They’ve no integrity to speak of, and they are not known for upholding bargains.”

  “I heard that, thief. As if a Fae has any room to speak of integrity.”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure we have much of a choice,” I said to Taeral. “If he knows anything about this place, it’s a lot more than we’ve got right now.”

  He let go of me, but his expression was uneasy. “I suppose you are right.”

  I headed back toward the cage, and the rest of them followed. Holdrun watched me with a knowing smirk. “Ye want the Fae-killer, then,” he said. “For what? Looking to settle some clan grudge, are ye?”

  “We just don’t want Milus Dei to have it,” I said. “They’re trying to make more.”

  “Aye. That’s why I’m in this box.” The dwarf’s expression darkened. “They’ve brought in some lord of humans who tried to force me to recreate the Answerer. I refused, of course. That’s blasphemy, copying another dwarf’s weapon — even if it was crafted by my own grandfather. I could do it, but I will not.” He snorted more smoke. “So here I am in this ridiculous excuse for a cage, instead of my lovely forge upstairs.”

  “Hold on. You live here, with Milus Dei? On purpose?”

  Holdrun shrugged. “They call me a prisoner,” he said. “I could leave, if I wanted to. But why bother? My world is gone, and I’ve not seen another dwarf for centuries. So I make toys for the monkeys and let them think they’re in control.”

  I tried not to think too hard about why any Other would hang around these bastards if they weren’t being forced to, or what kind of ‘toys’ he’d been making for them. And we didn’t have time for a discussion. “Look, can you help us get the sword, or not?” I said.

  “Aye. Been here for years, haven’t I? I know my way around this place,” Holdrun said. “But I’ll need something in return.”

  Somehow I knew what he wanted, but I had to ask anyway. “And that would be…?”

  “I’ll have our lodestone back from that one,” he said, pointing at Taeral.

  Being right really sucked sometimes.

  Of course, there was zero chance of that happening. I started to tell him forget it, we’d find another way, but then Taeral interrupted me. “Very well, dwarf. I shall give you the lodestone,” he said. “After we’ve taken this place and obtained Fragarach … and you have destroyed it.”

  “Taeral, what are you doing?” I blurted. “You can’t give it to him.”

  “I can, and I will.” Taeral walked toward the cage and stood less than a foot from the bars, staring coldly at the dwarf. “Fragarach must be destroyed,” he said. “And that which is made by the dwarves, can only be unmade by them. Is that not so, Holdrun?”

  “Aye, it’s so,” Holdrun said with a touch of caution in his tone as his gaze moved to Taeral’s metal arm, as if he was seeing it for the first time. “But I won’t take the word of a Fae. Ye’ll promise me the stone, Unseelie.”

  “Don’t,” I said. “No more promises.” The Fae could die if they failed to keep a promise a fact I was sure Holdrun was aware of. That was exactly why I’d made sure Taeral was released from his promise to protect me. I refused to let him die for me, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let him die for this surly stranger.

  But Taeral ignored me, lifted his arm and traced a finger across his chest in the shape of an X, leaving glowing white contrails that sunk into his skin. “I swear it,” he said. “Help us defeat these humans and destroy Fragarach, and the lodestone is yours.”

  “Goddamn it, Taeral!” I knew he absolutely did not want to give the stone away. It was not only one of a kind, but part of a unique set: the lodestone, the firestone, and the master stone, my pendant. Our father,
Daoin, had the firestone — and they were sentient. The stones chose their own masters, and the lodestone had chosen Taeral.

  His promise to give it to Holdrun would hurt him, whether or not he fulfilled it.

  Taeral looked at me, pale but determined. “If we simply take the weapon, Milus Dei will stop at nothing to get it back. Fragarach would allow them to slaughter our kind without compunction, should they succeed in duplicating the sword. It must be destroyed.” He flashed a wry smile. “And I am not acquainted with any other dwarves besides this one.”

  “Guys!” Sadie cut in suddenly. “I think we’re about to have company.”

  Holdrun flashed an unpleasant grin. “The ears on that one,” he said. “Aye, she’s right. They’ll be coming to bring me before their puny lord again. Oh, and they come in packs. Because I’m such a dangerous prisoner.” He cut his gaze toward the tunnel to his left. “Ye’d best kill them all quickly, if ye don’t want them calling for the rest.”

  That was when I heard the echoes of footsteps and murmured conversation drifting from the mouth of the tunnel — and then a shout, followed by running.

  Chapter 20

  Kill them all quickly.

  Holdrun’s words remained in my head, an echo of the dark, furious need that had been burning through my soul ever since I’d heard the first screams of the dead in Basin Springs. Not just to save them, but to avenge them. To tear through these butchers of women and children and take their lives in payment for the ones they’d ripped away from the innocent.

  To punish them, and myself, because I’d been too late. Again.

  As the sound of running drew closer, I heard the others drawing back, looking for cover, readying their guns to defend themselves. But I wasn’t having it — not this time. Jaw clenched, I strode toward the tunnel with one hand outstretched while I drew the Uzi with the other.

  “Gideon, stop!” Taeral shouted.

  I ignored him.

  The first few rushed into the open, three black-clad soldiers with guns already pointed. Their attention was focused on the cage, so they didn’t notice me until I gestured at the closest one in a wide arc. “Mahrú à dionadth,” I snarled.