Flicker (41 page)

“Lee,” Nasser started. He stood shakily and stepped forward, but tripped over a fallen stack of books, landing hard. “Don’t—”

But she didn’t listen to the rest of what he said.

Lee
tackled Byrony
. As they toppled forward, Lee shot her hands out and gripped Byrony’s wings at the joint, where they connected to her back. She pushed them upward, feeling the bones strain.

Byrony let out an unearthly howl. She thrashed, and Lee dug her knees into Byrony’s back, weighing her down. “Fix them!” she shouted, above Byrony’s yowling: a fast stream of incomprehensible Old Faerie. “You know what to do.” Lee began pulling the wings up
, an unfamiliar savagery roiling inside her chest like an angered dragon.
“Fix them!”

Byrony broke suddenly into English: “Stop!” she screeched. “Stop, stop!” She lapsed back into Old Faerie, but as she spoke, she nodded vigorously.

“Good,” Lee panted. “That’s good.” She slid off of Byrony, though she kept her hands firmly on the wing joints. She hauled Byrony upright and turned toward Filo. “Him first.”

Lee steered Byrony
to
Filo,
kneeling
behind her when the dryad crouched.

“I cannot do it with your filthy hands on me,” Byrony
growled
. “Release me.
I will not help him otherwise.”

“Then I’ll tear your wings off.”

“And he will die all the same.”

Lee hesitated. Then she slowly began to relax her grip. “Remember what you promised,” she said warily. “You said that you would help them.”

“No, Lee!” Nasser shouted. “Don’t let go of her!”

She whipped her head around to look at him. “But—”

“That Old Faerie was nonsense!” he screamed.
“She didn’t promise you anything.”

But it was too late—her han
ds were already off the joints.

Faster than Lee
could brace
herself
, Byrony rushed forward and threw herself
onto
Lee. All the breath was knocked from Lee’s lungs. Cool hands wrapped her throat and throttled her. Splotches of red light flashed
before
her eyes.

Lee thrashed and bucked wi
th all her strength
, but the dryad didn’t let go. Lee’s limbs turned cold and heavy, and her head felt like fog as she scratched blindly at Byrony’s face.

There was a shout, and a heavy thud, and the weight on Lee’s chest was gone. Her throat opened; air flooded her lungs. As she sat up, her whole body tingled, and her head swam.

Nasser was standing in front of her, his eyes squeezed shut, as if in pain. He had one arm hooked around Byrony’s neck, and the other wrapped tightly around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides and crushing her wings up against him. Byrony’s toes
just barely brushed the floor;
her face was paper-pale.

“I’m not going to bargain with you,” Nasser said, his voice eerily calm. “
I won’t
tear off your wings. I just want you to fix him, and then get out of here.”

“I will not be threatened by you,” Byrony said, though her words were lessened by the breathlessness of her voice.

“I’m not threatening you. And I’m not going to hurt you. But you should know that my brother won’t have a problem hurting you,
in all kinds of interesting ways,
and if you don’t fix Filo right now, I will be
happy
to hold you here like this until he wakes up.”

Lee crawled to where Jason was lying and nudged him. “Jason. Can you hear me?” No response. Lee shook him. “
Jason.
”

Jason’s head lolled to one side; his eyes open
ed
. “Lee?” he asked blearily.

“It’s me.” Lee put her hands under his shoulders and pushed him into a sitting position. “You’ve gotta wake up real fast now,” she whispered.

“What happened to your arms?” Jason asked, puzzled.

“What?” She looked down, and was surprised to find her arms dotted with bright drops of blood, from where the thorns had pierced her. Only now did she become aware of any pain: A sharp sting accompanied each tiny wound.

Jason grimaced and gingerly touched the back of his head. His fingers came away sticky and red. “God, my
head
.”

“He’s awake,” Lee announced, turning to Nasser.

“Time to make your choice, then,” Nasser said.

Byrony
just composed her expression and stared straight ahead.

“Well,” Nasser said, “if that’s your answer, then I guess—”

The rest of his words were lost as the window flew open and a gust of air rushed into the apartment, scattering books and papers like snowflakes. A dark, liquid shape slid through the window, then solidified into a long-haired woman all in black and
gray
, with dark feathered wings spreading from her shoulders.

Nasser’s eyes remained closed, but Lee could tell from the way his whole body went rigid as a corpse that he knew who had come.

Neman
.

Lee stopped breathing as
Neman
stalked silently across the room. She seemed larger, with her great black wings throwing twin shadows onto the floor. Her face was longer and harsher than Lee remembered, and her talons seemed sharper. Perhaps
Neman
always looked this way; Lee had simply never
Seen
her before.

“Nasser,”
Neman
said, sounding almost gentle. “Let the dryad go.”

Nasser’s arms fell to his sides. He swayed a little on the spot.

Byrony staggered as her feet touched the floor. It was the first ungraceful move Lee had ever seen her make.

“Good show, little dryad,”
Neman
said. She took Byrony by the shoulders and pushed her roughly toward the window. “But try again another day. This day, the children are mine.”

Neman
raised one hand and twitched her talons; Byrony’s knees bent, pulling her into an awkward curtsy. Byrony looked alarmed, as if her own bo
dy were betraying her. Then she
seemed to blur before Lee’s eyes, and suddenly transformed into a strange red bird, the same red as Byrony’s wings
.
The
bird sailed out the window and disappeared.

Then
Neman
’s black gaze fell upon Filo.
Nasser stepped between
Neman
and Filo. He moved so abruptly that Lee knew it was instinct driving him, not intellect.

Neman
went to him, and touched his face. “Step aside, Nasser.”

Nasser’s expression was grim and hard, but his voice was little more than a whisper. “What are you going to do to him?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

The air thickened with energy, and Nasser wavered. Finally, he moved aside, his steps stiff, almost involuntary. He walked until he was against the wall, then slid down until he was sitting. His hands were clenched into fists.

A sick feeling settled in Lee’s stomach as
Neman
crossed to where Filo still lay. For a moment,
Neman
gazed down at Filo impassively, like he was already dead.

“What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Filo,”
Neman
muttered, nudging him with her foot.
She crouched beside him,
expression almost sad.

“I
should
let you die for
your stupidity,” she murmured, not unkindly. “Your brashness.
Morgan
would. You’ve disappointed us again. Why can’t you
lear
n?
”

“Why are you asking him questions?” Jason broke in suddenly, his voice raw with anger and his eyes storm-bright. Lee grabbed his arm, but he didn’t stop. “He’s
dying
,
Nem
. What’s the point in lecturing him when he’s
dea
d?
”

But
Neman
ignored him. Filo gave a weak cough. He did not breathe in again.

“I wanted to be proud of you children
.
All
Morgan
wanted was a good show.” Slowly, almost tenderly,
Neman
brushed
her hand along Filo’s cheek
. “You may give her one yet.”

Suddenly,
Neman
’s hand was covered in a glove of slick black energy. She laid her hand against Filo’s chest, pressing down hard, and Filo’s body jerked, as if
Neman
had taken a defibrillator to him. His eyes snapped open and rolled back.

Neman
’s eyes narrowed. She lifted her hand a fraction, and Filo’s back arched, like a marionette pulled up on a string. The rest of his body hung limp. Lifeless.  She lifted her hand a fraction more. Filo’s back bent further. And
on and on. Finally, she’d raised
her hand high enough for Lee to see that her palm was no longer black, but crimson. The crimson color spread over
Neman
’s hand as she continued to raise it.

There was only a thin ring of black left on
Neman
’s hand, just below her wrist.
Neman
jerked her whole arm up, her scarlet glove spraying into the air like water as she flun
g her hand back and dissolving away
.

Filo collapsed onto the floor, and for a torturously long moment, he was completely limp. Then his chest heaved upward, and Lee heard him take a long, ragged breath as his eyes rolled back into place. He lay still, but he was definitely breathing.

Beside her, Jason sl
umped. Nasser sat frozen,
unable to comprehend.

Filo was pushing himself up awkwardly, still coughing. He turned his head, and his gaze met Lee’s. His eyes were bright with panic, and his face was pale, somehow made more terrible by the flecks of blood on his face.

A brief fluttering drew Lee’s attention away from Filo. She whirled toward the window, but
Neman
was gone. The curtains billowed in her wake.

Jason was on his feet, and then he had Filo by the shoulders and was shaking him, as if to make sure he was really there. Lee joined him next to Filo.

“Quit it,” Filo rasped, pushing Jason away. He turned
to Lee. He was breathing hard
, like he’d been running. “I was—” he started, then stopped. He just looked at her for a long
time, his throat working. “What happened
?”

Lee shook her head. “I don’t know. But
Neman
did it.”

“She drew the poison out of you,” Nasser said. He was walking slowly toward them, shading his eyes with one hand.

Filo stared at him. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“
The dryad
did somethi
ng,” Nasser admitted. “I
’ll figure it out.”

“Where is she?” Filo asked, glancing nervously around the room. “The dryad.”

“Gone,” Lee assured him. “That was
Neman
, too. She saved
us.”

“Why would she do that?” He seemed genuinely mystified. Lee opened her mouth, but no answer came to her.

When Filo stood, he
staggered, but didn’t fall. His hands were shaking.

“You ought to sit down,” Nasser suggested gently.

“I’m all right.” Filo wi
ped at his face with his sleeve
.

“No you’re not,” Lee said, rising to her feet. “You almost
died
.”

“Yeah, and I wonder whose fault
that
was,” Filo said darkly.

She froze. “Are you really going to blame me for this right now?”

“That dryad would’v
e murdered us
, Lee. If it’s
not your fault, then whose could it be?”

“I—” Her mind went suddenly blank. She felt very small. “I don’t know.”

He shook his head. His voice was thick. “You know.”

Jason grabbed Filo’s arm, squeezed. “Just chill out for a second, Filo.”

Filo pulled away from the other boy. He started toward the door that led into the hallway, his gait stiff, pained. Jason followed him.

“She won’t come back here like that,” Lee said weakly. “Lightning never strikes the same place twice, right?”

Filo stopped in the doorway, one hand on the frame. “No, Lee,” he said, giving her a withering look. “A place is never the same after lightning strikes
it.
I gues
s that makes you the lightning.”