Master of None Page 31

  Someone made a choked sound. Probably not me. An arm slid under me and guided me up. Two went around me. Something warm and wet dripped on my shoulder.

  I pried my eyes open. “Ow.”

  “Oh, God.” Jazz pulled back. Tears bathed her face. Why was she crying? My muzzy brain seemed to think we’d won. Or something. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to hurt you. I just thought . . . well, you looked dead.”

  “Not yet. Dead doesn’t hurt this much.” I tried to pull myself together and managed to sit in crooked Indian style. “Mmph. Think I need more practice.”

  “I’d say you have come quite far, thief.”

  “Ian?” I squinted at the tall, thin blur standing behind Jazz. “Oh, good. You’re alive, too. Wait . . . maybe we’re all dead.”

  My vision doubled and resolved. I made out Ian, unbound, minus the blood. The smile on his face contrasted with the tears in his eyes. Crying was contagious today.

  “I had intended for you to destroy me.” His voice hovered on the edge of cracking. “But I think your plan was better.”

  “Brilliant strategist. That’s me,” I muttered. “How’d you get healed so fast?”

  “The destruction of a tether releases a great amount of power. Any djinn within range can absorb it and use it for a short time.”

  “So, Tory and Shamil . . .” I tried for a better view of the room. Akila stood beside Ian. Wasn’t a shock to see her crying, too. Tory sat a few feet away, and a considerably less bedraggled hawk kept him company.

  Besides me, only Trevor hadn’t experienced a miraculous recovery. There was a smoldering crater where his stomach used to be. The sight relieved me enough to tolerate the stench. For an instant, my conscience stabbed me, but the discomfort didn’t last long.

  Technically, I hadn’t killed him. Lenka’s tether did.

  “Okay,” I said. “Anybody spare some healing mojo for me? Mine’s out of order.”

  “Of course.” Ian started for me.

  Akila touched his arm. “Gahiji-an. Let me help him.” Before Ian responded, Akila came to my side and knelt. “Gavyn Donatti,” she whispered. “I sensed your strength, but even I underestimated your cunning. I cannot thank you enough. His life—my life—is yours.”

  I smirked. “Don’t want your life,” I said. “Got one of my own, thanks. But I’ll take that healing, if you don’t mind.”

  She smiled and nodded. “You have sustained great damage. It will take a bit of time, but I will heal you.”

  I felt better already.

  Akila chanted in djinn. For a full minute, I welcomed the tingling sensation that spread through my aching body. Just when I’d started to feel halfway human again, an enormous crack echoed from somewhere inside the house. Now what? Were Trevor’s thugs breaking the door down?

  Across the room, a chunk of plaster dropped from the ceiling and shattered on the floor.

  Ian swore loudly. He rushed over and helped me stand. “We will have to finish this outside. This house is going to collapse.”

  “Wha . . . why?”

  “Lenka must have made some modifications. Probably to entice Trevor to his side. Now that he is gone, the spells are breaking down.” A bigger slab of ceiling crashed down in the corridor by the basement. “We must move quickly. I will carry you, thief.”

  I couldn’t object much. Right now, my top speed wouldn’t beat a slug in a crawling race. Still, I did have one request.

  “Hey, Ian?” I said when he settled me on his back.

  “Yes?”

  “Let’s stay on the ground this time.”

  He laughed. “Your wish is my command.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Trevor’s remaining thugs were no match for four djinn at full strength.

  I stopped noticing them after the first one went down. In fact, I didn’t notice much of anything. Exhaustion beat at me, and it took everything I had not to fall from Ian’s back. At one point, I thought something exploded. Maybe my brain had finally popped from overload.

  A gray fog settled over me. Eventually, everything went black. And then green.

  Leaves. Lots of them. A blanket of rippling green floated high above me, dotted with chinks of blue sky. Somehow, I’d acquired clothes again. Not mine, but I hadn’t wanted them back anyway. Bloodstains never came out. I breathed in sweet, clean air and let my lungs release the remembered stench of crisped Trevor. Nature wasn’t so bad after all.

  “Ga.”

  I blinked and turned my head to the side. Cyrus squatted next to me, regarding me with serious blue eyes. He held a stick in one small hand.

  “Hey, little man. Hope you’re not planning to prospect me for treasure.”

  Cyrus looked over me. “Mommy, he’s waked!”

  “Huh?”

  I followed his gaze and saw Jazz striding toward us. “Gavyn?” She sounded almost like herself again, except for calling me by my first name. I kinda liked that. “You’re conscious,” she said.

  “No, I’m not.” I closed my eyes and sighed. “If I was awake, something bad would be happening.”

  “Hungry,” Cyrus announced.

  Jazz smiled at him. “Didn’t you already eat all the Pop-Tarts?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Okay. Go ask Lark to get you another one.”

  While Cyrus ambled away, I pushed myself off the ground. Jazz appeared next to me and held me steady. “How long have I been out?” I said.

  “Hours. It’s almost noon.”

  “How far’d we get? We make Canada yet?”

  Jazz laughed. “Don’t turn around. You can still see Trevor’s place from here . . . well, what’s left of it, at least.”

  “Great.” I decided I could live without seeing the wreckage for now. Getting on my feet dizzied me for a few seconds, but the pain had vanished almost completely. A slight ache lingered in the new, shorter tip of my index finger. It had been healed but not restored.

  I figured an inch of skin and bone wasn’t much to pay for six lives.

  “Where’s everybody else?”

  Jazz pointed. “There.”

  I followed her gesture. Four djinn, Lark, and, to my surprise, Quaid occupied the clearing we’d set up the mirror in. No one seemed inclined to chat or move more than necessary. We all needed to sleep for a week or two.

  “Come on,” Jazz said. “They’ll want to know you’re up and around.”

  She stepped toward them. I grabbed her. “Wait.”

  “What’s wrong?” She searched my face.

  I smiled. “I feel lucky.”

  “Do you?” She moved closer and pressed against me. Her arms wrapped around my waist. “What a coincidence. So do I.”

  “Mmm.” I couldn’t come up with any words. The feel of her drove me to distraction. I leaned down and brushed her lips with mine.

  “Call that a kiss?” Her eyes sparked. “You do need practice.”

  She laced her hands behind my head and showed me the right way. I could’ve died happy right then.

  I moaned when she pulled away. “Can we get a private forest?”

  “Animal.” She gave me a playful shove. “They’re waiting.”

  “Let them.”

  “Gavyn!”

  “Fine.” I settled an arm around her shoulders. “Tell me something. How did Akila and Cyrus get here?”

  “It’s a long story. Basically, Tory brought them through.”

  “Any idea why? I mean, if she could have come over before, why’d she wait?”

  Jazz shrugged. “I guess she finally decided not to listen to her father anymore. Especially when Tory told her Ian was about to get his ass killed.”

  “That’s what I thought.” I shook my head. “Ian’s gonna be pissed.”

  “Probably. But I’m glad he did that, instead of letting you and Ian die.” She shuddered against me.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. “Me, too.”

  She smiled. “Your friend Quaid has a way with kids. Cyrus took right to him.�
��

  “Whoa. Since when is Quaid my friend?”

  “He seems to think so, since you saved his life.”

  “Oh, great. Any more friends like him, and I’ll be in jail or dead before I’m forty.” I rubbed her arm—and started when she pulled back. “Hold on. Where are you going?”

  “Breathe.” Jazz put a hand on my chest. “Just thought we should join everyone else, before they send out search parties. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “No, you’re not. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  She leaned in to me. “No more disappearing acts, Houdini?”

  “Never.”

  “Good.” She gave me a squeeze and stepped back. And laughed. “You’ve gotta see this.”

  I turned and followed her line of sight. Cyrus stood in front of the mirror, a half-eaten pastry in one hand and a thoughtful look on his face. He stuck a finger into the filling and smeared a little on the surface. After a pause, he spoke a bunch of nonsense words that actually sounded damned close to the bridge spell. Nothing happened, but he still smiled as if he’d pulled a rabbit out of a hat. It was the cutest damned thing I’d ever seen.

  “He gets that from me,” I said.

  “Great. Can’t wait to find out what else he gets from you.”

  “Bet he’ll kick the other kids’ butts at hide-and-seek.”

  Jazz shook her head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “WELCOME BACK, THIEF.”

  Ian strode across the clearing and hugged me. This time, I didn’t mind. But I still hoped he wouldn’t make it a habit.

  “Ian. Thank you for not flying.” I grinned and stepped back. “Hey . . . everybody.”

  “If it isn’t the hero.” Lark sent me a grateful smile. “Donatti, I’m officially not pissed at you anymore.”

  “Thanks. I think.” I glanced at Tory, who stood behind Lark with an arm clasped possessively across his chest. “Interesting strategy you had there. I wouldn’t have crossed Ian. You’ve got balls.”

  “You were taking too long. I had to do something.” He smirked in Ian’s direction. “He’ll forgive me. Eventually.”

  “This was not the help I had in mind.” Ian drifted over to Akila. “You should not have listened to him, my heart. But I am grateful that you did.”

  “I could not lose you again.” She buried her face in his chest.

  I left them to their moment and turned to Quaid. “Still waiting around to arrest me?”

  “Well. About that.” He hesitated for the first time I’d ever seen. “It seems you saved my life, Mr. Donatti.”

  “Sure does seem that way. But you never can tell. Maybe Trevor would’ve been reasonable with you.”

  “I have my doubts.” Quaid looked over at Cyrus, who’d wandered off again with Jazz watching over him. “You have a wonderful son. He’s something special.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It would be a shame for him to be deprived of a father. If, for example, you were in prison.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Yes. It would.”

  Quaid’s serene smile resurfaced. “In that case, I believe I’ll be on my way. I doubt our paths will cross again, so I wish you well on yours.”

  “Wait.” If I’d calculated right, we could still help Quaid cash his bounty in. “I think my friend Lark here has something for you.”

  Lark glanced up at the sound of his name. “Whatever you’re telling him, Donatti, don’t drag me into it.”

  “He won’t bother you. If you’ll just give him the dagger you’re holding, he can get going.”

  “Are you . . . oh. That dagger.” Lark pulled his dupe from an inside pocket and tossed it to me. “Knock yourself out.”

  I grinned and presented it to Quaid. “Now we’re square.”

  “You’re sure you want to part with this?”

  “We’ve done what we had to. It’s all yours.” When he accepted it uncertainly, I said, “So, this means I’m not a criminal anymore. Right?”

  Quaid laughed. “I suppose it does. Good-bye, Mr. Donatti.”

  I watched him walk away. When Quaid was out of sight, silence of the uncomfortable variety descended. I had the feeling I’d missed an important discussion. I looked around, and my gaze fell on the mirror still propped against a tree. Understanding hammered me in the face.

  They were going home.

  “Well,” I said, trying to sound normal, though I felt as if my insides had been scooped out. “Guess you’d better get moving.”

  Ian frowned. “Do you have a destination in mind?”

  “Don’t you? I mean, you wanted to go home. Now you can, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Home. A fine idea.” He stroked Akila’s hair and smiled. “Love, are you certain you did not neglect to heal his head?”

  “Okay. You lost me.”

  Ian sighed. “Did you not hear Lenka? Apparently, there is an army of humans and Morai waiting to invade the realm. My work is not through here, and therefore I am still banished.”

  “So . . . you’re staying?”

  “Yes. I am afraid you are stuck with me, thief.”

  My grin felt wider than the Grand Canyon. “Lucky me.”

  “We shall see how lucky you are.” He turned and gestured. “Shamil, if you are ready, I will open the bridge for you.”

  A shaded silhouette I’d taken for a tree moved, and Shamil approached. Someone must have magicked him some clothes. He looked like a traditional genie: open vest, silk sash around his waist, baggy pants, and bare feet. He’d grown some hair—it resembled Tory’s, only shorter. His small smile revealed new teeth. A blindfold covered his eyes, dimpling in over the empty sockets. Apparently, transformation healing didn’t extend to regeneration.

  He stopped in front of me and bowed his head. “I am pleased to meet you, Gavyn Donatti. It seems I owe you my life.”

  “Likewise. And no, you don’t.” I nodded back. “Nice to see you up and around.”

  “Yes. I had not expected to taste freedom again.” His voice wavered. “I am ready, Gahiji-an. I will report to Kemosiri immediately. He will not be able to ignore this situation any longer.”

  “Hold on.” Tory broke away from Lark. He pulled a slim black box from a pocket and tucked it into Shamil’s waistband. “Don’t forget this.”

  I stared at it. “Is that a recorder?”

  “Lark’s idea,” Tory said. “Absolute, irrefutable proof. I had it going the whole time we were in there. That asshole won’t be able to find a loophole now.”

  I had to laugh. “Lark, you would be the one to introduce technology where it has no place. Next thing you know, all the djinn will start carrying cell phones.”

  “Do not count on it. We are slow to adapt.” Smiling, Ian moved to the mirror and did his thing. Shamil came up beside him. Ian stood aside and clasped his shoulder. “I will contact you soon to hear the Council’s decision. Luck be with you, brother.”

  “And with you, rayan.” Shamil bent at the waist and stepped through the mirror.

  Ian stared after him for a long moment. At last, he turned and held a hand out. “Akila,” he said in strangled tones, “if you return now, you can accompany Shamil to the Council. Your word will be taken.”

  She walked up to him. Stopped. And sent him a look that could’ve frozen Mount Vesuvius. “Return? Perhaps it is your head that is in need of healing.”

  “But you must—”

  “What? Persuade my father to step out from his ignorance and make a stand for the realm? If Taregan’s recording cannot do this, nothing will.” When he opened his mouth to protest again, she laid a finger on his lips. “No, Gahiji-an. I will not go back and pander to the Council. And I will no longer be bound by my father’s ridiculous notions of loyalty to clan. I have made my decision. My place is with you, my husband. My home is wherever you are. If you stay, I stay.”

  “Akila—”

  “I am staying. Do not bother telling me that I must return for my protection. I will not leave
you again, and you cannot—”

  He stopped her mouth with his. Apparently, he wanted a private forest, too.

  “Adjo anan,” he murmured when he pulled back. “I am not the Council. You’ve no need to convince me. Stay, love, if that is your wish.”

  She smiled. “It is.”

  “Well,” I said a little too loudly. “I hate to interrupt, but don’t you think we should get going? I don’t know about you guys, but if I don’t get food and sleep soon, I think I might get a little cranky.”

  An unsteady toddler zipped past me. Jazz reached my side and stopped to catch a breath. “I just realized something,” she said. “I’m the only one with a house.”

  “She’s got a point,” I said. “Think I might have a little cash left. We can get a room for the night.”

  Jazz pounded my arm. “No way, Donatti. You’re coming home with me.”

  I grinned. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

  “Oh, for . . .” She rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you ever serious?”

  “No.” I caught Ian’s gaze and saw amusement. “Is that a problem?”

  She coughed, but I detected a laugh in there. “Let’s go home.”

  Those three words sounded better than a winning lottery ticket to me.

  CHAPTER 38

  After sleeping for twelve hours straight, I felt almost normal again. Except for the part about waking up in a bed that wasn’t in a cheap hotel or the backseat of a car. I could count the number of times that had happened in my life and still have a few fingers left over.

  The only thing missing was Jazz. I’d been pretty sure I left her right next to me when I passed out.

  I rolled off the mattress and tried to remember how to get to the bathroom. It didn’t take long. After all, I’d been here a few times before—though we hadn’t stayed in the bedroom much. We usually hadn’t made it that far and ended up settling for the downstairs couch. Or the floor.

  Why did I ever think leaving her was a good idea?

  The minute I stepped into the upstairs hall, the smell of breakfast attacked me. Bacon, eggs, coffee. Maybe even toast. The idea of Jazz cooking for me induced a kind of happy delirium. Only nameless line cooks and grudging nuns had ever made me breakfast.