Page 44 of The Grip of Death
Lore flew to my side, Whitby hovering over to my opposite shoulder.
“Goodness gracious,” Lore said. “You did it, Jackson.”
I threw my hand at the cake. “What in the world did you bake this out of, Lore? This has to be the sturdiest cake in the world. Is it even edible?”
“Oh, it certainly is.” Whitby’s crystal pulsed an embarrassed shade of pink. “We just did everything we could to reinforce its structure. Lore was so worried about potential floppiness.”
So our wedding cake was a marvel in baking engineering and architecture, a feat orchestrated by the digital brains of two artificer’s intelligences combined. A pity we couldn’t taste it. I sure as hell wasn’t planning to now that I knew about its delightfully dangerous filling.
With a gesture, King Oberon called down a beam of sunlight, its shaft widening like a spotlight until all of the gardens were covered in searing gold. I held my hand over my eyes, peering through my fingers, watching even as the magic of the Summer Court purified and cleansed its very earth. Within moments, none of the purple crystals remained.
“The aftershocks of Titania’s cruelty,” the king said, his eyes searching the palace grounds. “Blasphemy and abomination on the face of the Verdance. Pah. That I could come with you to finish this and find who was responsible, but I must stay and ensure that the Summer Court is secure. Otherwise, you know that I would gladly break their spine myself.”
I cracked my knuckles. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. We’ll make sure to finish this.”
Xander bent low to retrieve something out of all the broken glass and smushed cake. He held up two tiny objects in his hands. The figurines that Lore had used as a cake topper, the scruffy one to represent me, the salt-and-pepper hair for Xander. They used to be one solid piece, but the cake’s explosion had split them apart. Somehow that made me angrier than anything.
Madame Cathee traced an oval in the air, magic humming in sparking streaks as she moved her finger. A portal flashed into existence, the swirling energies faintly warping an image of the destination: Mystery Row, the Black Market.
“Gentlemen, if you please. This should take you outside your home.” She bent closer as I passed, speaking in a lowered voice. “We must stay here to make sure this dimension is safe. The fae king will need all the help he can get.”
I nodded. Understood. Better to cut off the infection here than risk letting it leak into other corners of reality. I glanced over my shoulder, reaching a hand out toward Xander.
“Xander, you coming?”
He stuffed the figurines into his pocket, mumbling sulkily. “I guess we can glue them back together. So annoying. Yeah. Let’s go.”
He laced his fingers with mine. Hand in hand we left our own wedding as a married couple.
Our first order of business as newlyweds: kick a guild master’s traitorous ass.
18
A bright sunbeat over the Black Market. Mystery Row was quiet, or as quiet as it ever could be. Distant noises of haggling and barter and conversation, the clatter and clack of merchandise in the central bazaar. Good. Better than cries of pain or fear.
“The Chrysanthemysts haven’t spread here,” I said, shaking my hands at the wrists, trying to get the tingle of teleportation magic out of my fingers. “Not yet, at least.”
Xander shook his head. “Or maybe that was Gertrude’s plan all along. Corrupt the Palace of Briars, siphon its energy for herself.”
“Herplans, I think. She’s been playing the long game, Xander. It’s all connected. She was involved in the first blast at the Halls of Making, too. I’m sure of it. And I just hit on something at the wedding. You were the catalyst for what could have been an explosion. Who were they testing with when the arcane engine caused the first accident?”
Xander’s mouth fell open. Before he could answer, Hecate’s portal hummed and shimmered. Niko and Sedgewick stepped out, followed by Reza, their hair and clothes in disarray from the battle.
“Whoa. Okay.” I held my hands up, ushering them back toward the portal. “It’s really cool of you guys to come, but the Palace of Briars — ”
“Is going to be just fine without us,” Reza said. “Honestly, Jack. They’ve got the King of the Summer Court and a goddess of magic back there. I don’t think anyone’s going to miss us.”
He’d sobered up impressively quick for someone who was just drunkenly double-fisting petit fours not a half hour ago. Sedgewick was weaving patterns with his fingers, casting some complicated spell, his eyes shut tight. Niko was casting something complex of his own, his fingers leaving translucent lines in the air.
“Beatrice and Preston stayed to help with the wounded,” Niko said. “And we’d love to be part of the action, but Sedgewick and I are here to make sure the Black Market hasn’t been attacked either. The masters are on their way. Eleanor Grouse, too. And she’s pissed.”
Niko clapped his hands sharply. Magic cascaded from his body as glass tinkled, more of his camera drones manifesting around his shoulders. He threw his arms out and the glass drones zoomed away in all directions, speeding down the Black Market’s streets. Sedgewick finished his spell with a click of his fingers. He opened his eyes, now turned into twin spheres of flame.
“We’ll ‘see’ you boys later,” Sedgewick said with a tight smile, running off into town with Niko.
“It’s a sort of remote viewing spell,” Reza explained. “Looks creepy as hell, but it lets him sense the environment through candles he’s sold around the Black Market. Not actually see things, mind you. That would be especially creepy.”
“Like the Memory of Fire,” Xander muttered. “The spell I used to help find the source of the Fever.”
