Splinter (The Machinists Book 2) (28 page)

Allyn tried to blink the blurriness from his eyes for the hundredth time, but all it did was crack the dried blood and reopen the cuts on his face. His vision was little more than a series of shapes and colors. Still, a sense of familiarity began to tickle the back of his mind. Something about the road. The trees. Their direction. His head pounded fiercely, making him groggy and slow of wit.

By his best estimation they were headed west, and judging by the neglected pavement, they weren’t on any recognizable highway. They traversed a series of large hills, where roadside signs warned of snow and ice, and each time they crested a hill, another loomed larger in the distance.
Not hills,
Allyn eventually realized.
Mountains.
And the only mountains to the west were in the Cascade Mountain Range—not where the Green Family lived.

“Where are you taking us?” Allyn asked, surprised by how weak he sounded. They were the first words he’d spoken since waking in the car.

Jaxon ignored him. His lack of answer told Allyn what he needed to know. They weren’t returning to the Green Manor. Had they been, Jaxon wouldn’t have had any reason to hide it.

Allyn straightened in his seat, grimacing as his tight muscles quarreled with him, and attempted to focus on his surroundings. The sun was high behind them, creating long shadows among the thick foliage. Sunlight that cracked the canopy hit the forest floor in sheets of gold that somehow looked tangible, and it held a magical quality that marked the day as something more than just a new day. They had put an end to the Hyland nuisance and finally escaped the clutches of Agent Maddox and the FBI—the latter done without any casualties, a wonder Allyn had yet to fully comprehend.

A gentle hand took his. Kendyl was sitting in the seat next to him. She gave him a soft smile, and Allyn tried to smile back. The cuts on his lips split, and he tasted the bitterness of blood. The sight of her jogged something loose in his subconscious.

Was that why this all looked so familiar? Was it an old highway he and Kendyl had traveled in their youth? Or maybe the mountain pass reminded him of the one leading to the cabin. But neither of those felt right. There was something recent about his memory of this place.

When Jaxon turned off the two-lane mountain road onto another, the feeling intensified. This lane was narrower than the one before. More of a private driveway than a public road, it had no white or yellow lines, guardrails, or turnoffs. The foliage was thicker; wild branches and brambles competed with each other, creeping over the edges of the road like tentative fingers reaching to steal a cookie when nobody was watching.

Jaxon led the caravan down it for what seemed like several miles, until somewhere in the distance, Allyn heard the muffled rumble of surf. White seagulls flew overhead, and the air was thick with the smell of apprehension and seawater.

Allyn groaned, growing alert as Jaxon rounded a bend and the Hyland Estate came into view. “Jaxon,” Allyn said.

He ignored Allyn again, parking on the unkempt lawn, only a stone’s throw from the front entrance. The caravan followed his lead and parked behind them. Jaxon sighed deeply as if he were about to take a large test he was unprepared for then shut off the car and stepped outside.

Allyn moved to follow. His body protested, but his worry and curiosity proved stronger than his body’s argument. The rest of the McCollum leaders stood beside Jaxon, and the Hyland refugees waited with them. Allyn limped through the gathering Family, struggling to get a better view.

Something about the Hyland Estate seemed off. It was still the grand two-story wonder of modern architecture built along the cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, but the pristine lines were gone. The flowers in the garden had been neglected and left to wilt; the windows, once clear and clean, were layered with dirt and dust. It looked like a beautiful girl after a heavy night of drinking. There was no doubt that she was still a beauty under her puffy eyes and tangled hair—seeing that just took a little imagination.

The extravagant double doors opened, grinding on their hinges, and a man whom Allyn didn’t recognize emerged. He was in his late thirties and slightly overweight where old muscle had deteriorated into fat. A tinge of gray touched his otherwise-brown hair. He walked with the air of command of someone who was new to it—and exhausted by the work it had required to earn it. He stopped under the covered patio, and more Hyland magi joined him, suspiciously scanning the massing McCollum group.

Brandt stepped forward.

“Brandt?” The man’s tired voice was surprised, yet affectionate. “You’ve returned. We thought… Darian said—”

“Darian is finished,” Brandt interrupted.

“Finished?” The man raised an eyebrow.

“Gone, Parke,” Brandt said. “Dead.”

A soft murmur rose among the handful of Hyland magi. They exchanged curious glances, the smallest hint of smiles touching the corners of their mouths. The tension melted away into… Allyn couldn’t tell what.
Relief?

Parke kept his face expressionless. “I see,” he said. “By your hand?”

“By his own,” Brandt said.

“And the rest?”

“Gone, as well.”

Parke nodded, his own smile finally creeping across his face. “Darian was always too ambitious for his own good.” He turned to the group behind him. “This is good news. When he left, the majority of his followers went with him. We…
removed
the rest.” The words hung in the air, their implications clear. “Those who remain were never true to Lukas or Darian. We remain true to our
Family
.”

Jaxon moved forward to stand beside Brandt. “Our two Families are splintered,” he said. “Devastated by greed and violence. In an effort to rebuild our own, we seek asylum.”

An eternal breath followed, and in that space, Allyn saw their future if the Hyland Family rejected their plea. The Family adrift. Groups of twos and threes being assimilated into existing Families. The rest faltering and splintering into oblivion. Bloodlines dying out. Confusion. Pain. Loss.

Parke’s voice brought him back. “It would be an honor.”

Epilogue

L
iam dragged his hand along the porous basement wall of the Hyland Estate. The scratchy concrete tickled his soft fingertips and left a faint white residue on his pink skin. He couldn’t help but feel more than a little uneasy strolling through the dimly lit corridors. The last time he’d been here, he’d been forced to hide in a holding room after Darian Hyland’s betrayal. Now it was supposed to be their asylum, their new home.

Liam chafed at that. Burned or not, McCollum Manor would always be his home. Everything else was little more than a shelter, a means to an end. And even though they were currently storing most of the library’s artifacts at Hyland Estate, it would never be their permanent resting place.

The six-inch-thick double doors with reinforced-steel bindings loomed ahead. Rory appeared in the open doorway, striding purposely into the wide corridor. He smiled at the sight of Liam.

“Almost there,” Rory said. “Just going up to get the last of it now.”

“That’s great,” Liam said, putting on his best smile. “I appreciate your hard work.”

Rory returned the gesture and passed Liam, disappearing into the network of corridors behind him.

Liam stopped at the doorway, taking in the sight in front of him. The furniture in the holding cell had been pushed to the edges of the room to make room for the green totes, and even stacked four or five high, they occupied most of the room. The existing furniture would have to go.

The holding cell lacked the scale of the library, and it didn’t have the climate-controlled air or the purifying system, either. It was cozy. And without any natural light, he didn’t have to worry about sun damage. It was a start. Something that would work until they found more permanent arrangements. The environment might not preserve the texts, but it wouldn’t destroy them, either.

Allyn and Kendyl were in the corner of the room near the wall of built-in shelves, playing with what sounded like an old radio.

“What are you guys doing?” Liam asked, approaching.

“We’re trying to get this old thing to work,” Allyn said, adjusting the antennae. “We can’t get any reception down here.”

“I keep telling him it’s broken,” Kendyl said, turning the knob. “But he won’t listen to me—he never listens to me.”

“That’s because you never say anything worth listening to,” Allyn said sarcastically. He looked up at Liam with a wry smile. “You done already?”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “It went smoother than I expected.”

“That’s always nice.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without Nolan,” Liam said. “They’d revoked his credentials, but he was able to sign on as Agent Maddox. Apparently, the man never changes his password. But it actually worked out better that way. By signing on as the lead investigator, it gave us privileges that Nolan wouldn’t have had under his own user profile. We were able to alter the FBI’s record of your Social Security number, your driver’s license number, passport information, addresses—anything we could think of, really.”

“Wait,” Allyn said. “You could do all of that through the FBI?”

“No,” Liam said. “It’s just the information law enforcement has on you. It doesn’t change the information at the Social Security Office or DMV. It just makes it so no other agency can cross-reference the FBI’s information. Slows them down—that’s all.”

“Every little bit helps,” Allyn said.

“Yeah,” Liam said, growing irritated that Allyn wasn’t more impressed. Even though the FBI had a single sign-on to the National Crime Information Center and the hundreds of FBI microsites, it was still a notable achievement. It wasn’t all luck. “Plus, using Maddox’s credentials, we were able to build a shadow user that we’ll be able to use to continue to falsify documents. We plan to continue to be a thorn in the FBI’s paw.”

“I like it.” Allyn let out a frustrated sigh and stepped away from the radio.

“I told you it was broken,” Kendyl said.

Allyn ignored her and rubbed an irritated hand through his hair. “I’m telling you,” he said. “I got something out of it earlier.”

“You’re imagining things,” Kendyl said.

“You mind if I give it a try?” Liam asked.

“Be my guest,” Allyn said. “I haven’t listened to music in so long, I might even welcome some country.” He said the last bit in an exaggerated Southern drawl.

“I’d rather it stay broken,” Kendyl said.

Liam didn’t have the slightest clue what they were talking about, so he set to inspecting the radio. The moment he touched it, the radio roared to life.

“Whoa!” Allyn said. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Liam said.

Allyn stepped forward and took hold of the tuner. Immediately, the radio went back to static.

“It doesn’t like you,” Kendyl said.

“Apparently.” Allyn took a resigned step back, and the radio began to play again.

“Don’t move,” Liam said.

“I won’t,” Allyn said. The radio continued to play.

“What do you want to listen to?”

“Find some rock,” Allyn said. “Some Nirvana or Pearl Jam or something.”

“How old
are
you?” Kendyl teased. “Good luck finding
that
. How about some alternative? Some Mumford and Sons or Imagine Dragons?”

“I don’t even know who that is,” Allyn said.

“That’s because you’re still living in ’92.” Kendyl stuck her tongue out at Allyn for effect and turned to Liam. “Just see what you can find, Liam.”

Liam didn’t know who
any
of those bands were, so he cycled through the stations slowly, hoping Allyn or Kendyl would tell him to stop. When each station came into reception, he let it linger for a moment then kept going when neither Allyn nor Kendyl approved.

When he came to the end of the tuner spectrum, Liam turned the dial back to the only station he’d recognized. He scrolled faster than he had before, and the songs and stations went by in a blur, mixing talk radio with random melodies.

“Can you believe… so long, Astoria… I did it for… the rain on Tuesday.”

He had trouble finding the station, and cycled back through in the opposite direction.

“Before their grandmamma buried treasure in the gridlocked senate.”

“Wait,” Kendyl said suddenly. “Stop!”

Liam froze. “What?”

“Do that again.”

“Do what?”

“What you were just doing.”

Liam cycled through the stations again.

“Faster,” Kendyl said. Liam complied, and Kendyl’s face grew contemplative. “I can’t believe it,” she said.

“Can’t believe what?” Allyn asked.

“She was right there in front of us the whole time.”

“Who?”

“Follow me.”

How do you tell the woman you love that you’re about to leave her?
Jaxon waited alone under the awning outside the double doors of the Hyland Estate, his hands clasped behind his back
.
He watched patiently as a steady drizzle fell, making the landscape look as if he were seeing it through a dirty window. The air was cold, and the erratic wind gusts coming off the ocean made it even more uncomfortable. It was a bad combination. The worst.
Why couldn’t it be just a little colder so the rain would turn to snow?
At least that was pretty. Rain had a way of making things feel dirty.

The last of the McCollums’ possessions had been brought into the estate over an hour ago, and Brandt and a small group of Hyland magi had left to return the cargo vans. They wouldn’t be back until well into the night. Jaxon wanted to sigh in relief. They had done it. The McCollum Family was safe, they had their most important possessions back, and they had the Forum’s attention. He’d accomplished everything he had set out to do.

Then why do I feel like a failure?

Was that how he was supposed to feel? Wasn’t the good always tempered with the bad? They were safe for the short term, but the Hyland Estate didn’t have a proper place to store the fragile McCollum artifacts, and the Forum could just as easily uphold their previous decision as they could reinstate the Family. He had accomplished everything he had intended, but it might not have been enough.

And Leira. How could I have been so reckless?
The echo was forbidden, one of the deepest violations of their Order. And like the erratic wind making the cold winter drizzle more uncomfortable, their actions would be considered worse because they were each the children of respected grand mages. Their actions would not only reflect poorly on them, but would also largely discredit their Families. He could already feel his father’s wrath and his mother’s deep sense of disapproval. That scared him more than anything.

The great door opened with a deep groan and a squeal from the dry hinge, and Leira appeared in the doorway.

“Hi,” she said, walking up to stand beside him.

“Hi.”

“You’re hiding from me.”

The directness of her accusation threw him off. He hesitated for a second, then as he went to deny it, Leira placed her finger on his lips, silencing him before he began.

“I know it looks bad,” Leira said. “And I know you’re afraid, but I don’t care. I think it’s wonderful.”

“Leira,” Jaxon said, taking her hand in his and pulling it away from his face. “We developed an echo. An
echo.
It
is
bad. It’s more than bad—it’s profane.”

“I refuse to believe that anything that brings us closer together is profane.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.”

“On the contrary,” Leira said. “I’ve never been so clearheaded. It saved my life.”

“That’s where you’re not looking at the bigger picture,” Jaxon said. “You don’t understand the compulsion. I felt a hollow echo of your fear, but the compulsion to find you, to make that fear go away, was so strong I couldn’t think clearly. I left my squad to find you, and I put myself
and
the entire Family at risk. That’s unacceptable.”

“That’s because you weren’t used to it,” she said. “It’ll get easier.”

“I can’t count on that.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t be around you, Leira.”

“You can’t be around…” she repeated slowly.

“As soon as the Forum hands down their decision, I’m returning to the Green Manor.”

“No—”

“I’m sorry, Leira, but I’ve made my decision.”

“Hiding from it isn’t going to make it go away.”

“Maybe not,” Jaxon said. “But it’ll keep me from acting on it. It’ll keep you and the Family safe.”

“Safe?” Leira said bitterly. “You’re doing this because you’re scared.”

“That, too, I suppose.”

“Who’s going to lead the Family, Jaxon? We’ve been through too much change. To lose another grand mage… it’ll break us. If you want to make a difference, a
real
difference, then you have to live up to your responsibilities. You’ve led this Family through the darkest times I’ve ever seen, and here we are, on the brink of rebirth. Don’t undo everything you’ve fought for.”

“Leira—”

“Set your feelings for me aside,” Leira continued, “and think about Liam. About Nyla. Rory, Ren, and Mason. Think about Allyn and Kendyl. Think about my father.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Remember Trevin and Griffin and Ari. Remember Baylis and Jarrell. Remember all of their sacrifices and the cost to their broken families. They
need
you Jaxon, just as I do.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Make it that simple, then. It’s just like before. Focus on what you can fix and worry about the rest when you can get to it.”

Jaxon stared into her eyes. He thought he’d seen conviction before, but he’d never seen anything like what he was seeing in Leira now.

“What happens if I say no?” he asked.

“Then I’ll come up with a better argument and keep fighting.”

“You’ll never give up, will you?”

“No.”

“You’d make a better grand mage than you give yourself credit for.”

“Maybe,” Leira said. “But right now, you’d make a better one.”

“What about Canary?” Jaxon asked, letting the implication hang in the air.

“That was a mistake,” Leira agreed. “But one mistake doesn’t turn a Family against you. The important thing is that you learn from it.”

“You think they’ll continue to follow me?”

“I know they will.”

“Fine,” Jaxon said. “Then I’ll make you this promise: if the Forum reinstates the McCollum Family and gives me their blessing to remain as the McCollum Family’s grand mage, then I’ll stay.”

Leira’s face blossomed into a radiant smile.

“But if they don’t—”

“It’s a start.” Leira stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him so tightly that Jaxon knew she was still afraid she might lose him. He hugged her back, breathing in the sweet smell of her hair. She looked up at him, love and victory dancing in her moist eyes. He would have done anything to stay there, in that moment, forever, but as soon as he drew his face close to hers to kiss her perfect lips, he heard a rush of feet on tile.

“Jaxon!” Liam shouted from inside. “Jaxon!” He appeared in the doorway a moment later. “Jaxon,” he said, his face wild with excitement. “Come quick.”