Master and Apprentice (7 page)

The monk went rigid as a rock. “Who are you?”

“Mother fucking Teresa. Answer the question.” Lynus stopped in front of him, with Kit flanking his left. “Two guys. Beat-up, weird-lookin’ assholes. You seen ’em?”

A sardonic smile flashed across the monk’s face, and he tapped a finger on his glasses. “I haven’t seen anything.”

“Don’t get smart, old man.”

“Lynus, lay off.” Kit elbowed him and stepped forward. “Look, mister, just answer him. We don’t want no trouble with you.”

The monk sighed. For just an instant he turned toward me, and I could’ve sworn he looked right at me. “No one at all has been here,” he said. “No one but me, and the other monks. You do realize this is a monastery?”

“Yeah. It’s also the only place to hide for miles in these goddamned woods, and we know they come this way.” Lynus’s hands clenched at his sides. “I think you’re lying. Monk.”

“I assure you I’m not. And I think you should leave.”

“I think you should tell me where the fuck they are!” The enraged half-breed reached out and snagged the front of the monk’s robe. Before I could even register that the bastard meant to kill someone over me, much less do something about it, Lynus jerked the monk forward and snatched the glasses from his face.

The second or so that followed refused to obey the laws of physics. Time distorted itself, stretching and folding, making out-of-order impressions on my brain. Lynus let out a breathless curse and dropped the monk’s arm like it was on fire. He grabbed Kit, or maybe Kit grabbed him. Both of them vanished. Running footsteps sounded, then ceased abruptly
in a rush of air. Like they’d taken off flying—but that was impossible. Snakes didn’t fly.

Finally, my shocked system focused on the monk, and the gaze that returned unfailingly to the place where I stood. Those eyes weren’t blind. They were reptilian green, with slitted pupils.

I couldn’t move. No lockdown spell this time—sheer terrified indecision kept me planted in place. He was Morai, no doubt about that. But where were the fangs, the hairless dome, the seething and murderous hatred? There was nothing threatening about his appearance. He was tall and slender, with fair, almost feminine features. Lynus had called him an old man, but he didn’t look that old. Late thirties—and since djinn didn’t age the way we did, that probably gave him a couple of thousand years on Ian. Not good. The older a djinn, the more powerful he was.

I tensed, preparing to sprint for the building, find Ian, and get the hell out of here. I’d been set on fire enough for one day.

“So much for discretion.” A small smile pulled at the Morai’s mouth. He retrieved his glasses from the ground and put them on again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t share this with the others here. My brothers aren’t ready to know. They are human, after all.”

He had to be talking to me. I was pretty sure there weren’t any more invisible descendants out here—but then, how would I know? For the moment I didn’t know a damned thing anymore.

He took a step toward me. “They won’t come back,” he said. “Please, show yourself. No harm will come to you.”

I couldn’t stand here and wait for divine intervention. Neither God nor Ian was about to swoop down and save me, and on the surface it didn’t seem like I needed saving. But my
limited knowledge crippled me. According to Ian, every time a Morai opened his mouth, a lie came out. And there were rules I didn’t quite understand about the djinn killing humans. They couldn’t do it directly, which was why the Morai had used humans to slaughter the rest of Ian’s descendants. They could kill in self-defense—but only when they were in animal form.

Finally, I decided to take the risk and communicate. He wasn’t a snake right now, and I was pretty sure I could outrun him. Still, I wouldn’t let him see me yet.

“I take it you’re not a monk,” I said.

He looked startled for an instant. “Actually, I am,” he said slowly. “I was ordained in 1692.” He cleared his throat. “I never realized how disconcerting it is, speaking to someone who isn’t there. I hope I’m correct in assuming you’re djinn.”

“More or less.” I stayed invisible, not entirely convinced of his intentions. “Why couldn’t those guys sense me? And if you knew, why didn’t you tell them I was here?”

“For the same reason you can’t sense me. These grounds are my haven, and they’re protected from scrying spells. Though apparently they’re not safe from random djinn who happen to be wandering in the wilderness.” He frowned. “Who are you? Show yourself.”

“In a minute.”
Haven?
Who could a full-blooded djinn need protection from? The answer came like a kick in the teeth. Ian. And by extension, me. Feeling a touch queasy, I said, “Why didn’t you turn me over to those bast—er, guys?” I couldn’t bring myself to swear in front of a monk, even if he was a Morai.

“They seemed intent on shedding blood. I don’t allow that here.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” I held back a sigh. If Ian knew I was standing here chatting with a Morai, he’d probably
kick my ass. “All right. Here, I’m showing.” I dropped the vanishing act.

The monk twitched. He paled a few shades. “You’re human.”

“Not exactly.” I grimaced. He’d made
human
sound like a dirty word. “I’m—”

“I know who you are.” His voice grew hoarse. “You’re the thief Donatti. The slayer’s apprentice.”

My throat clenched tight. He knew my name, and apparently I’d acquired a title somewhere along the way. Not one I liked much either.

“The prince. Is he here with you?”

“He is indeed, snake.”

Ian’s voice came from the alcove behind the Morai. The monk whirled and held up a defensive hand. “Wait.
Rayan,
please listen—”

But Ian had already launched into a spell. The lockdown hit the monk in midsentence, and he stiffened and toppled to the ground.

“Jesus … creepers, Ian!” I shook myself loose and strode toward the building. “How long have you been standing there?”

Ian flickered into sight and regarded me with raised eyebrows. “Creepers?”

“Answer the question.”

He made a vague gesture. “I happened to glance out a window and saw the half-breeds approaching. I could not determine why I failed to sense them—though I know now. His wards prevent detection.” He glared down at the motionless Morai. “So I came to be sure you were safe. And found a snake in the grass.”

“Really. Well, great job keeping me safe. You didn’t do a … darn thing, except stand there and eavesdrop.”

“I would have acted, had it become necessary. You handled the situation well enough.” He gave me the look again. “Why are you speaking so strangely?”

“He’s a monk. You don’t curse around people of the cloth. Or djinn. Whatever.”

His curiosity shifted to rage. “Are you mad? This is no monk!” He drove a foot into the Morai’s ribs hard enough to flip him over.

“Ian!” I stepped between them before I could consider the consequences. “Stop it. He saved my ass. Probably yours too. The least you could do is hear him out.”

“I will not entertain the couched falsehoods of a Morai.” His eyes practically flashed fire. “If you do not plan to assist me, then get out of my way. I will destroy him myself.”

The next words out of my mouth were the dumbest I’d ever uttered in my life. “I’m not going to let you do that.”

“You—” Ian froze in place. I imagined that Caesar wore a similar expression when the knife went into his back. “Why?”

“Because he’s defenseless. Let’s start there. You just kicked a guy who can’t move. That’s like punching a quadriplegic.” The shock of what he’d done was finally fading enough to let me think. I knew Ian would drag himself over broken glass with two busted legs if it meant he could kill just one more of them, and that was fine when every last one was a bloodthirsty murderer. But his obsession had blinded him to the fact that this guy wasn’t. The monk hadn’t even tried to defend himself.

Ian stared at me like I was speaking Klingon. “He is Morai.”

“Yeah? And I’m Italian. I think. Does that mean I eat a ton of pasta and have at least one relative named Luigi?”

“I fail to see how this pertains to the Morai.”

“Never mind. Bad analogy for a djinn.” Behind me, the monk groaned and stirred. The spell was wearing off. If I
couldn’t make Ian understand in the next few seconds, he was going to do something I’d regret. “Look. You’ve spent four hundred years hunting these guys down, and you haven’t even considered that they might not all be evil freak shows.” My lip curled in disgust. “We had a human like that once. His name was Hitler.”

Ian reeled like I’d slapped him. After a beat, a hint of anger resurfaced. “I am nothing like your Hitler. The Morai slaughtered my clan. They must be destroyed.”

“Gahiji-an,” the monk gasped. He pushed himself up and stood slowly, but made no move to attack, or even cast a spell. “If you won’t show me mercy, at least consider my brothers and let us take this conflict out of their sight. They won’t understand. They’re innocent.”

“As you are not, Morai.” Ian’s burning gaze fell on me. “Stand aside. Now.”

“No.” At least part of me hung back and watched in amazement while the rest of me practically begged him to hit me with a painful curse. Or a fist. “You’re not doing this, Ian. The way it stands now, you can’t kill him, and he can’t kill you. Or me.”
I hope.
“There’s no reason we can’t listen to what he has to say.”

“If you expect me to give audience to this fork-tongued mockery of a—” Ian cut himself off with an audible click of his jaw. He closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. “Very well. Let the snake speak, if you must. I will not interfere.”

I didn’t trust his sudden change of heart. Getting Ian to consider a new opinion was like suggesting that the pope toss the mitre and wear a baseball cap in public. “Why am I not buying this?” I said. “You’re gonna do something stupid. I know you are.”

“Do you wish my cooperation or not?”

I glanced back at the monk, who stood there like someone had stuffed a ticking bomb up his ass. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

“Do not thank me, thief. Your ridiculous notions of innocence may lead to your death.” He narrowed his eyes at the Morai. “Were I you, I would watch these so-called monks for signs of weapons.”

“Please.” The monk moved forward. His features contorted for an instant. “Come inside. We can talk in my study, and then …” He seemed to shrink a few inches. “Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens next.”

I stepped aside to let him lead. Hopefully, what happened next wouldn’t involve pain—because if the Morai wasn’t planning to double-cross anyone here, Ian probably was. And I’d have to get myself brutally savaged trying to stop him.

E
ntering the monk’s study was like stepping back in time a few hundred years. From the aged wooden shelves that held scrolls and leather-bound books with crackled pages, to the wall-mounted candelabra coated with years of wax drippings and the heavy velvet drapes drawn back from the windows, the room screamed
Why yes, I was alive during the plague, thank you very much.
A musty smell, not unpleasant, saturated the air and drove home the authenticity.

Two things refused to conform to the seventeenth-century-monk mold. The first was the oversize framed mirror on the right-hand wall, mounted a few inches off the floor. Last I checked, monks weren’t into vanity. Djinn, on the other hand, used mirrors for transportation—and communication. Basically magic-powered webcams. I had to wonder if he was keeping in touch with anyone, since there shouldn’t have been any other reason to have it in here.

And the second was the laptop computer on the surface of a carved wooden table by the window. Interesting. A technology-friendly monk.

After we filed in, the Morai closed the door. He removed
the glasses and put them on the table next to the laptop. “Let’s start with introductions,” he said. “I know who you both are. My name is Khalyn, but I’m known here as Brother Calvin.”

Ian acknowledged him with a glower. I doubted he cared what his name was. To him, all the Morai were named dead meat. “All right, Calvin,” I said. “I’m all for small talk, but I think you’d better give Ian a reason not to kill you pretty quick.”

“Yes. I suppose I should.” He closed his eyes and grimaced. One hand cradled the spot where Ian had kicked him. “I believe you broke my rib,
rayan.
”

“I will break more than that, snake, if you do not explain yourself.”

I sent Ian an exasperated look. He ignored me.

“Well, you can just heal it later,” I said to Calvin. “Right?”

He smiled a little, shook his head. “I don’t use my power. For anything.”

“Lies,” Ian snarled. “You are attempting to put us at ease before you strike. It will not work. This whole place is enchanted, and you claim to not use your power?”

“I did place a scrying barrier on these grounds. Fifty years ago, when I built the monastery.” He met Ian’s furious gaze with calm. “That was the last time I did anything that didn’t require manual effort.”

“Why?” I said. “I mean, that seems a little extreme. Even for a monk.”

“Because I did something that I regret. Something personal.” His tone was layered with don’t-go-there. “You have to understand. I’ve been in this realm for more than two thousand years. I was never involved in the wars, or any of the horrors my clan visited on yours. I’m a scholar.”

My brain skipped a little on the part about two thousand
years. This guy could’ve met Jesus personally. That would’ve made me consider monkhood.

But Ian wasn’t buying it. “All the Morai were brought back to the djinn realm after the havoc you wreaked here. The Council forbade your return, until your clan was permanently banished, all of you sealed in your tethers. You must have been sent here with the others.”

“Really, Gahiji-an
.
You are familiar with the Council’s corruption. Do you actually believe they were as thorough as they claimed to be?” Disgust registered in his face. “Besides, I didn’t participate in that fiasco. I never really wanted to be a god.”

“Your word alone will not absolve you.” Ian folded his arms. “In fact, I cannot conceive of anything that would. You are wasting your time.”