The Hour of Dust and Ashes cm-3 Read online

  Em squealed and darted out of the kitchen with the keys. I winced as the screen door banged against the frame.

  I just stood there, back against the counter, hands still wet. Ever since we began working together, Hank had gotten Emma a Christmas present. Usually something way too expensive. I gave myself a mental shake and rubbed my hands on my cotton drawstring pants. Right. The usual. For a second there, I’d thought he’d meant me and that would just be … weird. I mean, we’d never exchanged gifts before …

  I turned to wash out the bowls. My mark flared. I stiffened, not needing the mark to feel Hank’s presence behind me, swamping me. His hands fell on other side of the counter, trapping me. Immediately, my pulse skipped and my senses went into hyperdrive.

  He leaned down, taking advantage of my momentary lapse. My mouth went dry. I tried to swallow. Warm breath breezed faintly against my neck, the short ends of my hair doing a soft wave toward my chin.

  His lips were too close to my ear, his voice husky and low with an edge of humor. “I got you something, too.”

  And then he was gone, back to the table and leaving me more disoriented than I’d been before. The ceramic bowl in my hand shattered. I jumped. “Damn it!” Great. Perfect. Thoroughly embarrassed now, I went to work cleaning up the shards from the sink with a paper towel while trying to calm myself with slow, regulated breaths, wishing like hell the heat would drain from my face.

  I ran the water to clear the sink of the tinier fragments, wiped my hands on a dish towel this time, and then turned to throw the paper towel in the trash. Hank was back in his chair, leaning back so that the two front legs were off the floor and looking pretty pleased with himself.

  “Since when do we get each other gifts?” I asked, sounding more composed than I felt. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  He sat forward. “It’s just a gift, Charlie. Every year I shop for Em, I see something that makes me think of you. This year things are different …”

  There’d been no gifts before because we were friends. Because I was married and happy. Because there were never any romantic feelings between us. Not like that. At least on my part there hadn’t been. While I had no choice but to acknowledge and grow accustomed to my partner’s extraordinary allure, I’d never crossed the bridge of developing those kinds of feelings for him.

  Had he?

  My thoughts must’ve been pretty transparent. “I wasn’t longing after you while you were married, Charlie. It wasn’t something I even allowed myself to think. I was too new to this world, too new to my freedom and all the things I wanted to experience …”

  Wait … freedom? “What—”

  Emma stormed back into the house with a giant bag smelling like the bakery in Underground. Sweet, warm dough. God, I loved that smell. She set the bag on the table and pulled out a large wrapped box, rolling it around in her hands. “This one is for me.” She set it aside and then dug out a plain brown box, the size of a boot box. “There’s no name on this one. Is this mine, too?”

  “That one’s for your mom,” Hank answered.

  Em turned to me, her smile goofy and her expression silly. She sang the words, “You got a present.”

  I took it with an eye roll at her teasing. My pulse thrummed; I hadn’t gotten a gift from a guy in a long time.

  I set the box on the table and opened the lid. Gasped and then shut it again, my gaze flying to Hank’s. He was grinning broadly now, his eyes a brilliant topaz blue. I was a hard person to buy for, I didn’t collect anything, didn’t talk about things I wanted to buy …

  “Mom! What is it?”

  “It’s a dozen Aeva buns,” I said in awe and then laughed. “Oh my God.”

  “There’s a subscription notice in there, too. Every month, you’ll get a dozen delivered to your doorstep for a year.”

  I clutched the box to my chest, though not too tightly—didn’t want to damage those heavenly concoctions. “You got me a Buns for a Year subscription? Are you kidding me?”

  I was smiling like an idiot, smiling because this was just like Hank. And he hadn’t gone and done something like get me jewelry or a scarf or perfume or a useless trinket I’d never use. He bought me something I raved about on pretty much a daily basis, something no one had ever gotten before even though every year I casually threw out the mention to those around me.

  Maybe I’d never gotten it because everyone else thought it was a goofy idea. But I always thought if you were gonna give a gift, it should be something the person wanted, really, really wanted. And boy, did Hank hit this one out of the park.

  “Mother,” Em said in a serious tone, “I hope you know you will be sharing those.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I might give you one … if your room is clean, you do the dishes, empty the trash …”

  “Mom!” She reached for the box.

  I held it aloft, laughing. “Okay, okay. You can have one.” I set the box on the table and opened the lid, selecting a fluffy white creation with reverence.

  Made by the Elysian imps who were known in all three worlds for their skills in the baked goods department, the Aeva buns were their highest achievement. I handed Emma one and took one for myself, biting into the soft, cloud-like creation, so sweet and light that it melted in your mouth.

  Rex came down the hall. “I smell Aeva buns.”

  My gaze stayed on Hank. I managed a thank-you through my stuffed cheeks. He gave me a small nod and a half-smile, yet so much swam in his expression—satisfaction, relief—something that spoke of vulnerability. If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d been just as nervous as me about the gift. Christ. That realization disarmed me completely and my heart gave a hard knock.

  8

  After Hank left, I sat on the porch swing and stared into space. Despite the last hour of fun, I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that descended after all the distractions had gone.

  I pulled one knee up and chewed on my pinky nail.

  Em’s head poked out of the front door. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You’re chewing on your nails and you only do that when you’re worried about something.”

  Smart aleck. “Just thinking about Aunt Bryn. And I’m tired. As usual.”

  “Go to bed, then. I’ll send Brim up with you. Trust me, having him in the room makes you feel better.”

  Before I could turn down the offer, she whistled for the enormous beast, opening the door wider and telling him to stay with me. That was all she had to say and that damn beast would stay with me until she told him otherwise. It was uncanny, their bond; the way they communicated with each other. She didn’t just order him around; she loved that ugly beast. And he loved her right back, enough to run all the way downtown, up fifty flights of stairs, and onto the roof of Helios Tower to save my life.

  Brim stuck his big, goofy face in mine, sniffing my breath. I ruffled his ears affectionately.

  “Thanks, kid.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  The door closed and I smiled to myself. Sometimes she sounded just like me. Other times like Bryn. Always trying out new sayings, trying to grow and figure out who she wanted to be, and how she wanted to present herself to others. It was fascinating to watch. But I worried, too; I worried about this special talent she had for communicating with Brim. Hell, she’d even sent me flying through the air with only the force of her will.

  Emma had raw, and apparently very strong, abilities. And more than anything I prayed they wouldn’t hurt her.

  I stayed on the swing for another ten minutes or so. “Wbeasty boy, you ready for bed?” He turned away from the screen with a whine. Poor Brim, he looked so lost when Emma left him. “Come on, let’s go in.”

  Dutifully, he climbed the stairs and then circled repeatedly in the corner of my bedroom before lying down and settling into relaxed yet watchful guard dog mode. It was like having a gray, bald tiger in the corner, only this one had the jaws of an oversized pit bull and eyes that reflected red in the lig
ht.

  And for some odd reason, I was starting to think the thing was cute.

  I chuckled at that thought, lifted the down comforter, and slid into my cool bed.

  I am on the rooftop of Helios Tower watching a sporadic replay of last week’s events. Dawn of the winter solstice. Llyran parts the darkness churning above and then uses its power to slide the lid off the agate sarcophagus.

  The agate no longer masks the power inside. An enormous surge radiates over the tower, a pulse of energy so heavy and thick that it steals my breath, a surge that flows through every fiber of my being, so deep and powerful and stunning.

  There is fighting all around me. It comes in broken flashes.

  Brimstone attacks Llyran.

  My chest tightens painfully. I know what comes next. Tears sting my eyes as Llyran kills my daughter’s beloved hellhound.

  Then I am crawling toward the sarcophagus, pulling myself up, and grabbing the only weapon I can find. I hold the sword aloft, over Llyran’s head. The hilt sears my hand, but I don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Tears slip hot and fat from my eyes as I bring down the weapon with every bit of strength I have left.

  And then suddenly, they are gone and I am standing alone beside the agate tomb, gazing down in wonder at what it contains. Llyran is dead. My hand is useless, but I am transfixed as I stare at one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. A divine being. A First One. Ahkneri. The Creator’s Chosen One. His Star, and then, later, His instrument of Vengeance, Retribution, and Punishment. The sword is back in her grip as though I never touched it, held between her breasts. It is a named weapon, a divine weapon called Urzenamelech, “Anguish by fire.”

  And now I understand why because my hand and even my arm burn from the inside out.

  The scene shifts in a blur.

  Gray landscape. Valleys. Mountains. Cloud-laden sky. Mist-covered ground. All moving by at great speed. Down over foothills covered in grass to flatlands that eventually turn to sand. To a desert and a sparkling river under a blazing white sun. To the walls of a massive temple rearing up on the other side.

  Straight up the face of the wall and over the balcony. Between massive columns, so high their tops are lost in shadows. To a courtyard.

  “No!” A voice pleads. Feminine. Familiar. And I know immediately who this is. Ahkneri. She speaks in an ancient language that somehow I understand.

  Then another voice. “Our purpose is at an end. Our lives here, in this state, are over. It was always meant to be like this. You know is.”

  Another denial. Anger. Shouting.

  And then the scene is speeding away again back through the columns and out over the land to a dark place, a place of mist and jagged mountains that scrape the sky.

  Then inside a tunnel of light so blinding.

  Darkness. Inside of the mountains. Into blackness. Earth.

  An eye blinks open.

  My eyes flew open. A cold, heart-pounding sweat covered me. Foreboding tensed every muscle and dried out my mouth. That dream, or whatever the hell I’d just experienced, struck me with bleak fear.

  Brim’s sudden whine made goose bumps spread over my skin.

  My sight quickly adjusted to the dark room, and I stayed beneath the covers, moving only my head so I could see the shadow of the hellhound—still lying down, but his head was up, short ears pointed.

  His soft panting was the only sound in the room. But still I hesitated to move. I could detect auras, sense presences, and those senses were telling me there was nothing else here. Nothing. Yet it didn’t feel right; something wasn’t right.

  Slowly, I turned my head to the other side. The street lamp from outside faintly illuminated my dark curtains. There was nothing in the bedroom. I drew in a deep breath and let it out. It had to have been the odd dream. And Brim’s response could be due in part to the vibes I was giving off.

  Just as I decided to turn over and go back to sleep, a small hand slapped down on my right arm in a bruising grip. A second hand landed flat between my breasts, shoving me back into the mattress.

  A body materialized into a pert-nosed waif with clear blue eyes, white hair in two long braids, dressed in some type of silvery, body-hugging tube around her flat chest and a matching miniskirt. Her midriff was bare and sported a belly button ring. Oh, and she was floating—I squeezed my eyes closed and opened them again—yep, still hovering over me.

  “Do you accept my gift?” she asked vehemently, producing a giant syringe and pressing it against my skin.

  “What the—Stop!”

  Her eyes went narrow. “So you deny my gift, then?”

  “What? Yes. No …” Jesus. Okay. Calm down. Gift, she’d said gift. “What are you doing?”

  “What I’m doing is not fooling around with some stupid test of worthiness like my backwoods sisters. You want it or not?”

  My eyes fixed on the syringe. “Want what exactly?”

  “Air. A hundred mils of it, pulled from yours truly, clean, blessed, and ready for the joining. Snagged this big boy”—she nodded toward the syringe—“from a horse farm in Conyers.”

  “I thought that was just a myth, that air couldn’t—”

  “Kill you? Sure it can. In big enough doses. Look, you don’t have to accept death to accept a gift. That’s my sisters’ deal.” She shrugged. “If you’re big enough to take the risk, then it’s fine by me. So, are you?”

  “And the risk would be?”

  “Brain damage. You in?”

  “Brain damage,” I repeated numbly.

  “Yeah. See,” she snorted, “you’re already halfway there.” When I didn’t laugh, she rolled her large, slanted eyes.

  It was like I’d just woken up in some alternate never-never land, where Peter Pan was a smart-ass little female floating above me.

  “My gift will move slowly because I told it to. Once you accept all the gifts, and use them for your purpose, you’ll be fine, and what I just gave you will be used up. Should you fail to accept the other gifts or don’t use them within four days of receipt of the first one, then mine is free to make its merry way into your brain. So, what’ll it be?”

  These tests were all about worth and sacrifice. If you were willing to show you meant it, you were given the gift: the element.

  I knew my heart, and because of that I wasn’t afraid.

  I met her eyes and nodded, tensing as her grip on my arm tightened. She still hadn’t removed her other hand from my chest.

  “Once I have all of the elements inside of me, how do I use them to see inside of my sister?”

  “I’m not sure how it works. It just does.” A lethal grin spread across her face. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to hit an artery.”

  And then she shoved the needle into my skin.

  I gasped at the sting and the instant bloom of hot pressure as air forced its way into my tissue. The sylph drew back and finally lifted her other hand off my chest. “It should only hurt for a little while.”

  I sat up, rubbing at the burning skin. My arm was beginning to numb.

  She glanced around the room, saw my small trash can, and tossed the syringe inside. “Later.”

  “Wait!”

  But she was already spinning into … nothing but air. And as air, she had no problem going wherever the hell she wanted—through cracks, under doors, through window screens … Nice power to have.

  I fell back onto my mattress, heart pounding, and pressed my palms to my eyes and cursed. Great. I was a walking air embolism, and I had no idea how to use the elements inside of me to see inside of Bryn and the other ash victims.

  Brim stood, stretched his long body, and then began circling again several times before lying back down.

  I’d received the water gift first, so I had roughly three and a half days left before I needed to use what was inside of me or die. Funny, Alessandra never mentioned that part.

  Two more tests to go. And the next time I saw a sylph, she wasn’t going anywhere until she told me exactly what to
do with my s. Not if I could help it.

  * * *

  “Mom.” I was shaken so hard, my teeth clattered. “Momma, wake up!”

  I groaned in protest, trying to turn over and pull the comforter over my head. “Stop, Em. Not time to get up yet …” The alarm hadn’t even gone off.

  “Momma, get your butt out of bed. Miss Marti is on the phone. Something’s wrong with Amanda.”

  I rolled over to see my daughter leaning over me in her pajama tank, hair in a cloud of wavy tangles, with the phone in her hand. I took the phone, my stomach already knotting. “Hello?”

  “Charlie,” Marti’s unsteady voice came through the speakers. Please, don’t let this be bad. Please … “We’re at the hospital. Mandy”—she broke off with a sob—“tried to kill herself this morning.”

  Amanda was one of the ash victims. She was also supposed to be under guard like the others.

  “Where?”

  “We’re back at Grady.” The same place Amanda had been taken a couple months earlier when ash had begun making its way into the population, when she’d ingested it out of teenage curiosity, and was later found lying on the bathroom floor of Hope Ridge School for Girls. My daughter’s school. My daughter’s good friend—older, yes, but those two had developed a sisterly relationship in the years since Marti and I became friends and carpoolers.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I ended the call and got out of bed. Em stepped back and watched me jerk my shirt over my head. “Get dressed,” I said. “I know you’ll want to see her.”

  The breath she’d been holding released in a long whoosh. “Come, Brim.” And then they were gone.

  I stepped to the bedroom window, praying my SUV had been dropped off like Hank promised. Thank God, it was there. I dressed quickly. I could hear Em’s racing footsteps on the stairs, the sound of the back door as she took Brim outside to the kennel, and then her heading back to her room to dress.

  Twenty minutes later, we hurried into the hospital and up to Amanda’s floor, passing a nurses’ station and heading a few doors down to where a plainclothes officer stood against the wall. He straightened as we approached.