The Morrigan's Curse (11 page)

THE FLAW IN HER
plan was that Addie was a terrible liar. Everything showed on her face. To pretend she was over her grief and fury was out of the question. The best she could do was pretend she was complying with Bran out of fear. Because there was truth in that. She was afraid of him now.

With the guilt of yesterday on her shoulders, Addie went downstairs feeling like a whipped dog.

Ysabel was sharpening knives in the living room, while Kel perched on the arm of a sofa, reading a magazine. “The Normals are spooked,” Kel was saying. “They can't explain the hurricane. I haven't seen anything in the newspapers about the house fires in Vermont yet. But they'll start to notice if unexplainable events keep happening between every Wednesday and Thursday at midnight.”

“This is good?” asked Ysabel. “That they notice?”

“They'll be frightened. They'll feel helpless. They'll panic. When Normal lives are disrupted, society breaks down. We're
counting on that to help us take control of them after we're free of this wretched day.” Kel saw Addie on the stairs. He threw down the magazine and jumped to his feet. “Addie, how are you?”

“Fine,” she said shortly.
Thanks for asking yesterday.

“Done crying?” Ysabel asked scornfully. Addie didn't know if the Arawen girl disapproved of tears in general, or just crying over Transitioners.

Addie ignored her and looked at Kel. “What's everyone doing?” To her own ears she sounded falsely casual.

“Working on acquiring the missing Treasures. The oracle said . . .” Kel paused, probably remembering that the oracle hadn't said this, that Ysabel had ripped it from her mind after death. He cleared his throat. “The Stone and the Sword were spoils of war taken by
the hand and the voice.
You realize, Addie, those must be the people who attacked your home. The people who killed your parents.” His eyes bored into hers as if to remind her who the real enemy was.

Addie nodded. Spoils of war were items taken in battle, usually upon the death of their former owners.

“
The hand
must refer to the Bedivere hand of power,” Kel said, “and we know where the head of the Bedivere clan is located. But
the voice
is kind of a puzzle. It should be the voice of command, but the Pendragon family was wiped out in a Transitioner feud years ago. They're all dead.”

“Then who has the spoils of war taken from the Pendragons?” asked Ysabel. “Who are the people who defeated
them
?”

“That's a good question.” Kel looked up as Griffyn entered the room. “Maybe if Griffyn hadn't killed the oracle, we'd know more.”

Griffyn barely gave Kel a glance. Instead of responding to the criticism, he held up his hand for Addie to see. “It's swollen and red where you bit me,” he growled. “Human bites are the worst.”

He sounded as if he had experience with this, which didn't surprise Addie. Griffyn was so vile, probably every species he encountered wanted to bite him.

“Stop worrying about it.” Kel tossed him a tube of ointment. “I found this for you.”

Griffyn caught the tube and peered at it suspiciously. “What kind of magic is it?”

“It's not magic; it's an antibiotic.” When Griffyn stared back at him blankly, Kel rolled his eyes. “It kills bacteria. Do you even know what that is?”

Griffyn sneered at Kel, but it was Addie he strode across the room to tower over menacingly. “You know what never made sense to me? If the Eighth Day Spell is carried by Emrys blood, why won't killing off the Emryses release us?” Griffyn grabbed Addie's shirt and yanked on it, forcing her to stand on her toes.

“The existence of the eighth-day timeline depends on the Emrys family,” Kel exclaimed. “Even you should understand that! If they die, we cease to exist. Let her go!”

“That's what they want us to believe. That's how they
kept us from killing them back when Merlin first betrayed us. But maybe it's a lie.” With Addie's shirt clenched in one fist, Griffyn drew a knife with his other hand and pressed the flat of the blade against her throat. “She cries over Transitioners and bites her own kind. Why should we keep her?”

Addie stared up into Griffyn's face, her heart pounding. She fought the instinct to struggle, because that was all it would take to provoke him. And that would be the end of not just her, but of Kin everywhere.
Unless he's right. Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants? To be useless after all?

“Yes, Griffyn.” Bran's voice startled everyone. Griffyn loosened his grip enough for Addie to turn her head and see his father standing in the doorway with Madoc behind him. “You've uncovered a ruse overlooked by hundreds of Kin scholars who've pondered our dilemma for centuries,” Bran said dryly. “Undoubtedly you are the most brilliant Kin man since the casting of the Eighth Day Spell. Go ahead. Cut her throat, and we'll see what happens.”

Kel made a strangled outcry, and even Ysabel flinched.

Addie looked at Griffyn, whose eyes darted between his father and his proposed victim. Then, with an angry snarl, Griffyn released Addie and stalked out of the living room and up the stairs, where they heard him slam a bedroom door. This was followed by the sounds of furniture being kicked and thrown against walls.

Addie straightened her shirt before raising her eyes to Bran. She wasn't sure what she expected from him. Another
lecture on loyalty? More punishment?

“You did not appear for your lesson this morning, Adelina,” Bran said.

“I didn't know I had one.” She kept her voice expressionless.

“You need to practice daily. You're quick to learn, but weak in execution—and your reaction time is slow. You don't think quickly under stress.”

She nodded. He was right.

Bran looked at Madoc. “Are you certain there is nothing more we can do to acquire the Treasures today? I am anxious to move forward.”

“The Aerons will scout out the home of the Bediveres and determine the best way to approach it,” Madoc said. “But if they're the ones who hold the Stone of Fal, they will be impervious to a direct assault. As for the Pendragons, their personal possessions were sold at auction, according to the message I received from my Normal employees after my inquiry last week. We'll have to rely on them to search the electronic records of the auction house. It's likely that another Transitioner clan moved in to claim anything of magical value.” Bran glowered at the idea of relying on Normals for anything, but Madoc went on, “We should know more by their next report.”

“Then Adelina and I will practice this afternoon on her spell casting. She will assist me in raising a storm.” Bran's tone gave no indication that he held any resentment for her rebellion
yesterday. Maybe he felt her punishment had been sufficient.

“Send it north to Canada this time,” Madoc said, “or you'll hamper our efforts to locate the Treasures. My employees will need electricity and computers to get the job done.”

“I'll fetch my shoes.” Addie headed for the stairs, not wanting her face to give away how she felt about helping Bran raise another hurricane. What she wanted from him was a
useful
spell, not lessons on destruction.

She was almost to her room when she heard her name hissed behind her. “Addie!” Kel took the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. “I'm sorry about yesterday,” he said. “I know those were people you cared about, but this is
war
.”

Addie nodded silently because she needed Kel to believe she agreed with him and she didn't trust herself to speak a convincing lie. Not with those deaths on her conscience.

Kel licked his lips nervously. “What the Morrigan said—about progeny and destiny and giving us a gift to defeat the Transitioners. Was she talking about you, Addie?”

A gift from the Morrigan wasn't an honor people aspired to. With more bravado than she felt, Addie shrugged. “I was visited by the Old Crone a year ago, and now I've seen the Girl. The only one I haven't met is the Washer Woman, which is good, because I don't think you're supposed to survive that one.”

It was very satisfying to leave Kel frozen at the top of the stairs, his mouth dangling open like a fish. What a shame it
had to be for something so deadly serious. Because having the Morrigan speak to you in two of her forms really
couldn't
be a good sign.

Addie opened her bedroom door just in time to catch a boy with tousled dark hair ransacking her possessions. She gasped. The boy dropped her bag and threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “This wasn't how I planned on meeting you,” he said quickly. “But I can explain . . .”

When Addie saw the mark on the Transitioner boy's wrist, she knew better than to wait for explanations—or worse, questions. She clenched her fists and muttered under her breath, automatically preparing to defend herself against an enemy.

JAX COULD TELL SHE
wasn't going to wait for him to explain. She muttered foreign words, and he recognized the gesture that went with them—a motion of her arms that ended with her hands curled around something invisible. “Addie, before you hit me with a fireball, listen.” He knew it was her. All Kin had that silvery-blond hair and those intensely blue eyes, but something about this girl's face reminded him of Evangeline.

Plus he felt his bond to her immediately.

Her eyebrows shot up and then scrunched together. “How do you know—”

“I've seen Evangeline do that spell plenty of times,” Jax said. “In fact—”

“Shut up, Dulac,” Addie hissed. “How'd you get in here?”

How was he supposed to shut up
and
answer her
question? Jax settled for lowering his voice to a whisper. “I'm not a Dulac!”

“I saw you in their building!” she whispered back. “I recognize your mark!”

For a second, Jax thought she was confusing him with Dorian. They looked a lot alike, except that Dorian was shorter and a little bit geeky. Then Jax remembered the night he got a glimpse into the room where the Dulacs were keeping Addie. He'd even shouted her name, trying to let her know she had an ally in the building. “I didn't realize you'd seen me,” he said. “I was trying to rescue you, but I got caught.” He held up his left hand, giving her a good view of his mark. “Look at my tattoo. The Ambroses—the Dulac vassals—they have a falcon. Mine is different. I have an eagle.”

The girl glared at him. “Falcon, eagle, same thing. Who cares?”

“It makes a difference,” Jax insisted. “I'm an Aubrey. Jax Aubrey. Look, I hope you aren't with the Llyrs by choice but only because they got you away from the Dulacs. You haven't called for help, so I'm thinking maybe I'm right.” The girl looked behind her at the partially open door. “I got here using brownie holes,” Jax said. “I can get you out the same way.”

“Brownie holes,” she repeated.

“Watch.” He crossed the room to the wall with the
brownie hole and stuck his arm in. “See? I can get you off the island this way.” Addie didn't move from her spot near the door, but she clenched and unclenched her hands. “Those fireballs must sting,” Jax said. “They drain the heck out of Evangeline's energy, and we're in danger the longer we stay here. So, why don't you release that spell and climb into the brownie hole. The Llyrs won't be able to reach us once we're inside. I'll prove how I know your sister, and then I'll take you to her.” He hoped he sounded convincing, because the fact was, without Stink, he wasn't sure he could take her all the way back to Pennsylvania.

Thanks for abandoning me, Stink!
It had to be that blasted command of Riley's to blame. Riley had only meant for Stink to stay away from Evangeline, because brownies skeeved her out, but he'd said
liege lady
. And Addie was also Jax's liege.

Meanwhile, Addie glared at Jax furiously and lifted her arms like she was going to throw her fireballs at him. “My sister is dead, you lying scum. Now I
know
you're a Dulac vassal. Dr. Morder said he was going to transport me through brownie tunnels, and if they really do exist, they connect to the Dulac building. I can't see your arm—so who knows what else is in that hole? Probably a whole bunch of Dulacs waiting to grab me.”

“Whoa,” said Jax, pulling his arm out of the brownie hole. “Evangeline's not dead. I just saw her a couple hours ago. Why do you think she's dead?”

“
Your people
told me. Did you not get your story straight with your superiors before you came here?”

Jax gasped, realizing where her information was coming from. “The Dulacs might've thought that when they first captured you—because we put out the story that Evangeline had been killed to prevent them from looking for her. But by the time you escaped, they'd found out she was alive.
And they didn't tell you?
” A wave of fury toward his uncle washed over Jax. It might have been a genuine mistake at first, but it had been horribly cruel for Uncle Finn to let Addie go on thinking Evangeline was dead after Angus Balin told him she was alive! “I'm
not
a Dulac vassal,” he hissed, despising that clan more than ever.

“Oh, really?” Her voice was sarcastic, but her face showed uncertainty in response to his genuine expression of anger.

“I'm sworn to your sister, which makes me your vassal, too. In fact,” Jax said, reaching the conclusion at the same time it came out of his mouth, “I'll bet that's why you haven't nailed me with a fireball or run out of the room to get the Llyrs. You're obligated to protect me, whether you realize it or not.”

Now Addie looked truly puzzled. She lowered her arms.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but your sister's really worried about you. We tried to rescue you from the Dulacs. We were actually in the building when the
Llyrs busted you out. We missed you by, like, minutes.” His eyes wandered toward the open door.
This is taking too long. I've got to get her into the tunnel before somebody comes along.
“Evangeline's been scrying for you, but you keep blocking her. Not to mention the time you zapped her. You got me too, because I was helping with the spell.” Jax pulled the papers out of his pocket and separated the one with Addie's handwriting. “We've been using this letter you left at the Carroways'.”

She gasped and stepped toward him. Jax moved closer so she could see it. “How'd you get that?” Her face grew very red, and tears welled in her eyes. “The house burned!”

“No, it—” Jax looked from Addie to the crumpled tissues on the floor, then back to her face.
It just happened for her,
he realized.
And she doesn't know!
“They're okay!” he said quickly. “Mr. and Mrs. Carroway—they're okay! We got there right after you left and saved them. Mr. Carroway had a scalp wound, but that's all. And we were worried about the baby, but he's going to be okay, too.”

Relief flashed across her face, and then she started crying—huge, shoulder-shaking sobs. Not what Jax had been hoping for, but maybe he could take advantage of the moment. He grabbed her arm. “Let's get you out of here.”

Big mistake. “Don't touch me!” she exclaimed, yanking her arm away.

The door flew all the way open, and a Kin boy burst into the room. Jax barely had time to register that this was the first Kin he'd ever seen wearing expensive, trendy clothes and a modern haircut before he threw himself at Jax.

Jax ducked and twisted away. He'd gotten better at roughhousing while living with Riley and A.J., but they never really hurt him or played dirty, so Jax was unprepared for a blow to the small of his back and an elbow to his temple. By the time he'd shaken off the pain, he was on the ground, he'd lost the papers in his hand, and the Kin boy had him in a half nelson.

“Kel!” Addie gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Are you all right?” the Kin boy asked her. “You didn't believe this kid, did you? He's obviously a Dulac spy, come to trick you into going back.” Jax struggled, and the boy tightened his grip. “Quick, Addie! Get help!”

But Addie looked outraged. “You were listening at my door?”

“Sounds like
he's
the spy,” croaked Jax.

“Whatever he has from the Carroway house,” Kel said, dragging Jax to his feet and toward the door, “he could've gotten it anytime since you left there. Sorry, Addie. It doesn't mean what you want it to mean. Call my dad.”

“They'll kill him,” Addie protested.

“No, they'll
question
him,” Kel grunted. “The Dulacs are Dad's number-one suspect for who might've bought
the Pendragons' possessions at auction. This kid might lead us to the Treasures.”

“And
then
they'll kill him,” Addie said.

“Dad! Bran!” Kel yelled, hauling Jax into the hallway. “We've got an intruder!”

Jax stopped fighting, pretending to give up. When they reached the stairs, he went limp, startling Kel with his dead weight. Then he threw himself down the steps, dragging the other boy with him. They both tumbled onto the landing where the stairs turned the corner. Jax jumped up first and mounted the stairs toward Addie, who whirled to face a huge, brawny Kin dude striding toward them on the second floor. He wore some kind of leather gear, like he'd stepped out of
The Lord of the Rings
, and he held a wicked-looking knife.

“Stay away from him!” Addie shouted, and Jax was surprised to realize she was shouting at the Kin guy, not at Jax. Addie threw both hands out, and the carpet burst into blue flames that leaped four feet into the air. Medieval Warrior Dude backed up, shielding his face with his arm.

But the magic fire and the Kin were now between Jax and Addie and Addie's bedroom door. Jax grabbed Addie's hand. “Come with me!” This time she didn't complain as he pulled her down the stairs. They'd have to run for the housekeeper's room. It had the closest
door to the brownie hole near the trash cans outside—the one they could use to jump home.

Kel had staggered to his feet by now and met them on the landing. Jax let go of Addie and punched him right in the mouth. It hurt more than he expected, the pain of impact shooting up his forearm. Kel recoiled, and Jax dashed past him and turned the corner of the staircase—

—only to find his way blocked by an older Kin man dressed in a long cloth tunic and carrying, of all things, a spear.
What are these people, rejects from a Renaissance fair?

Meanwhile Medieval Warrior Dude leaped through the blue flames and ran toward the staircase.

“Addie, this way!” Jax vaulted over the banister, dropping to the floor six feet below.

Behind him, Addie cried out, “Griffyn, no! I invoke my right to protect a vassal!”

As thrilled as Jax was to hear her acknowledge him as a vassal, it obviously didn't make a bit of difference to Griffyn, because a knife thudded into a white leather sofa a foot away from Jax. “Holy crap!” He glanced back and almost stopped, because Addie hadn't made it off the stairs. She was straddling the banister, but Kel had his arms wrapped around her.

“Run!” she screamed at Jax. “They'll kill you!”

Jax dodged, and another knife flew past him. He turned and ran, zigzagging the way his talent prompted
him: left, right, duck! Downstairs, he spotted two other Kin, an Amazon Girl with more knives and an ordinary-looking man in modern clothes. He saw no sign of the children from the Carroway house.

Jax veered toward the kitchen, remembering that the housekeeper's room had been behind it.
This really sucks. I messed up big-time.
But even now, he was trying to figure out how he could still pull this off. The Kin wouldn't be able to reach him after he entered the brownie hole. He could wait for them to let their guard down and come back for Addie.

He reached the exterior door of the housekeeper's supply room and yanked it open just as instinct urged him to dodge right. But the door opened to the right. So Jax flung himself left to get outside and went sprawling. His knees hit the ground. He caught himself with his hands, scrambled to his feet, and kept going. Then the pain hit, radiating from his torso and washing over him in a dizzying wave. Jax reached backward along his own shoulder, touched something that shouldn't be there, and pulled it out.

Pain wracked him, even before he saw the knife in his hand. And the blood.

He got me. The big guy hit me.

The world spun and darkened. Jax dropped the knife, his fingers numb. He fell against the trash cans, blinking as his vision grew dim. He had to focus . . . on what? The noise and shouting behind him?

No. The brownie hole.

Clenching his teeth against the darkness and nausea, Jax searched for a weird sponginess in the air and a puckered opening. When he found it, he pitched forward and dragged himself inside, even though every movement pierced him with pain. Gravity tried to pull him to the ground, urging him to lay his head down and give up. Instead, he crawled forward.
Can't stop here. Get me home. Get me home.

Confused images of
home
flickered in his mind. The mountain house. The house where he'd first lived with Riley. His home in Delaware.

Not home!
He didn't know where
home
was, and he didn't want the brownie tunnel dumping him in an empty house. He'd pass out and no one would find him until it was too late.

Take me to someone who'll help me. Someone who cares about me. Take me—

Again there was an extended, stomach-dropping fall. Jax squeezed his eyes closed, certain that this time he was never going to open them again. Then his face struck something rough and fibrous, and curiosity forced his eyes open, so he could at least see where he was going to die.

He was lying on a carpeted floor, sprawled facedown. He couldn't lift his head, but he had a floor-side view of an unfamiliar bedroom. Everything swam before him sickeningly.

“Jax?” said someone from behind him. Then, in greater alarm: “Jax!”

He knew that voice.
Not who I was hoping for, but . . .

Jax closed his eyes and surrendered to oblivion.