Bronze Gods Read online

  The nurse said softly, “I need to get the patient into the exam room. The doctor will be along presently to assess her condition and recommend treatment.”

  Aurelia gazed up at her father. “We have to tell them exactly what happened . . . or they won’t be able to help me.”

  She glimpsed ambivalence in the green eyes so like her own. He didn’t want to discuss magic or murder machines with the medical staff, but they would be well compensated for their discretion. And this weakness wasn’t going away. She’d expected a little rest to help, but so far, it hadn’t.

  “You may be right,” her father said. “And we need more than a physician. I’ll bring in a specialist.”

  Someone who knows about magical illnesses, I hope. The ritual had stolen something from her—and my truth-sense doesn’t work any longer. Aurelia said as much, though obliquely since she didn’t know the nurse well enough to be open about her former gift. For the first time, the fear dawned that this malaise might linger forever, a result of whatever Lorne had done. Aurelia knew of people who sustained permanent injuries and never recovered. Look at Leo. She had a friend who had been caught in a fire, breathed in too much smoke, so she was broken thereafter, unable to catch her breath.

  Aurelia refused to spend the rest of her life as an invalid, reliant on a strong man’s arm to keep her upright. She had never heard of an ailment like this one, but surely there must be something they could do—some innovative treatment—to restore the strength to her watery limbs—

  Oh, bronze gods, no. I might never dance again. And if that’s true, she thought in despair, better if I had died in that infernal device.

  CHAPTER 33

  SHE LOOKS SO SMALL.

  Mikani shifted away from the windowsill. The bandages on his back were itchy, and his entire right side throbbed through the pain medication. He limped over to the bed, leaning on what came to hand to keep weight off his injured leg. Though it took all his combined obstinacy and charm, he’d refused to let the doctors banish him to a separate room, barely allowing them to stitch the long gash Lorne had cut from knee to ankle.

  I should send someone to look for my stick. When he’d feared the cave would collapse, he’d abandoned it to save Ritsuko. Sorry, Dad. It took all his strength to hobble out of the cavern, stumbling down the dark tunnel until they’d caught up to Wright and Nuall. Half feared the bastard would get up, pick up his head, and come after us.

  He glanced down at his partner, running a fingertip along the line of her jaw. Still, I’m up, hurting but here. And they can’t bloody tell me if she’ll wake up. Her eyes were closed, her lashes dark against her pale skin. Hells, they can’t even tell if she’ll live. He clenched his fist around the metal rail of her bed to stop the trembling of his fingers.

  I should have been the one to blow the device. Then she wouldn’t be in that bed.

  Mikani sighed and cupped her cheek. “Stubborn woman. I’m supposed to be the reckless one. And there’s no way in hells that you’re sticking me with explaining all of this” He leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead. “Don’t you dare die on me, or I’ll find a way to hunt you down and bring you back. I . . . need you, Celeste.”

  He straightened when he heard footsteps at the door, and wiped at his face with a bandaged hand. “Come in,” he said, as someone knocked softly at the door. “But you bloody better have good news, or some whiskey if you don’t.”

  Gunwood stepped in, his face tired. “How are you, Mikani?”

  The old man’s probably been up all night, dealing with the details.

  “You know me, can’t get rid of me . . .” He stopped, the other man’s mood drifting to him. Hells. He’s concerned, too. “I’m worried as hell, Commander.” He glanced over at Ritsuko. “She won’t wake up. We don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

  “I came by to tell you two that commendation is going through as we speak. But I hope they don’t have to award it to her posthumously. What’ve the doctors said?”

  “She suffered some cuts and bruises, nothing major. They can’t figure out why she’s still sleeping; they found no sign of a head injury.” He made a vague gesture to a low copper tub in the corner. “They even tried the chalice. Olrik paid for the elementals. All her cuts and scratches are gone . . . but she still won’t open her eyes.”

  “Damn. Take as much time as you need. I’ve got things in hand down at HQ. Though . . .” Gunwood hesitated as if he felt like an arse for what he was about to say. “I could use a firsthand account of what happened.”

  Mikani nodded absently. It will be something to do other than stare and try and remember how to pray, anyway. “Very well.”

  He gave a brief rundown of the last couple of days; from the time they’d gone to arrest Theron Nuall to the death of his brother, Lorne, in the cavern. “Olrik’s men arrived . . . and we came here. He gave orders to secure everything. If you have more questions, you’ll have to take it up with the Architect.”

  “That’s some first-rate investigation,” Gunwood said.

  He actually sounds . . . approving? Mikani couldn’t be sure, as he’d never heard quite that tone from the old man before.

  The commander went on, “If you need anything, either of you, let me know.”

  “We will. And . . . thanks for stopping in, Commander.”

  I hope this doesn’t become customary. I couldn’t deal with a pleasant Gunwood, day in and day out. Now he has me waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Visitors trickled in throughout the day. A woman from filing stopped by, two more people who had worked in the clerical pool with Ritsuko, years past. None of them stayed long, but they mentioned being fond of her and brought small gifts—a tin of sweets or a potted plant. Mikani found dealing with them a test to his patience. Ritsuko would want me to play nice. Hells. He greeted them, promised to relay their best wishes, and tried not to ignore them too pointedly until they hurried out.

  He was standing at her side, holding her hand, when the door opened again. “. . . leave the flowers, come on in.” He did not look up until he heard the familiar voice.

  “You look like hell. Or, more to the point, more like hell than usual. Like you really tried, this time.” Saskia padded in, carrying a small box. Her hair was tied back, and she looked genuinely concerned as she came up to lay a hand on his shoulder.

  He glanced down. “You’re wearing slippers.”

  “Idiot. Don’t get used to it. They wouldn’t let me in without them.” She studied Ritsuko, setting the box down on the bedside table. “I won’t stay long. I wanted to bring you that . . .” She nodded at the parcel. “It might help. It won’t hurt, anyway; it’s just a little charm for attracting good health.”

  I’ve had enough magic for a few lifetimes . . . “I—”

  “I promise, it’s nothing strange.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Have faith, Janus. For her, if not me.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek, before heading for the door. “. . . and shave, man. Get some rest and find clean clothes. For all our sakes.” She flashed him a smile before stepping out.

  It was the longest night of his life. He ate Ritsuko’s dinner, as she didn’t stir to touch it, and at one point somewhere between midnight and three, her breathing went soft and shallow. Don’t die, don’t die. Mikani jerked to his feet, ready to get the physician, but . . . she rallied. Exhausted, he sank back into the chair, head against the leather. Nurses tiptoed in and out, checking on her regularly, but they seemed baffled as to what treatment might help.

  This just hurts too much.

  In his darkest moment, he delved into his jacket and found his last two Dreamers. Right now he needed to be numb. Needed not to feel this way. Mikani didn’t mean to sleep, but days of snatched naps and long hours caught up with him.

  • • •

  THE LAND BLEEDS.

  Summer and Winter are broken in the iron of the invader’s blades, but their numbers are dwindling, too. When magic and immortal clash against might and ferocity,
everyone dies. The world dies.

  “No,” says the Summer Lady. “There is a way to save us.”

  A procession of ragged survivors meet in a green vale. Princes and princesses from both courts are offered to the invaders. Only a union of two disparate warring peoples can save them from extinction. Days pass; the arguments rage, but in the end, the Winter Lord agrees.

  The Iron War ends in sacred vows and a mingling of blood. Music and revels abound where there had only been death and destruction.

  “There will be peace,” says the Summer Lady.

  “But at what cost?” the harlequin asks.

  • • •

  NEXT THING MIKANI knew, it was daybreak, the sun creeping over the windowsill to paint shadows on the floor. His eyes felt gummy; he pushed out of the chair to stretch. Hells and Winter, what a dream. For the first time, he realized the visions came strongest after he’d taken Dreamers. Maybe he ought to have made the connection sooner. An interesting reaction to an unpredictable drug.

  As so many times before, his gaze cut to the slender figure in the bed. Who was watching him.

  “Good morning.” Her voice was a raw rasp.

  The distance between them disappeared. He didn’t notice he was hugging her until she exhaled against his chest. Easing back, he left one hand on her arm, the other sifting through her hair in reflexive strokes.

  “I . . . About time you stirred. We’ve paperwork piling up, you know.” He cleared his throat as a knot threatened to form.

  “I’m a . . . little surprised to be waking up at all.” Her eyes didn’t hold a teasing light.

  She felt bird-light in his arms and fragile; he’d never thought of her that way. Ritsuko had such force of personality that you didn’t look at her and see a small woman. Seems she’s always been at my side. Never realized she could be taken from me.

  “You had me worried sick.”

  “I did warn you it was a suicidal plan. It worked, didn’t it?” She seemed anxious. “You killed him?”

  “You knocked him out long enough for me to finish him.”

  He wondered if she knew what she was doing when she rubbed her head against his palm, eyes half-shut. Her head probably hurt, though he wasn’t certain why she had been unconscious for a day and a half.

  Damn Lorne and his murder machines.

  “The Reinert girl . . . and the other one on the list. Are they both safe?”

  It was so like her to ask that, first thing. Mikani nodded. “Lorne never got to the last one, and we saved Miss Reinert. She’s recovered and home with her family.”

  She pushed out a soft breath. “Good. Then it’s worth it. But . . . bronze gods, I’ve never felt this bad. Could you get me some water?”

  In response, Mikani slid off the bed and poured a glass from the pitcher nearby. “Here. Should I order you something to eat?”

  “I don’t think I could just yet.” She sipped, her lips cracked and pale. Even now, she looked like a ghost to him; it was hard to believe she was awake and talking. When she looked up at him, her eyes were vulnerable. “This will sound stupid, but it’s like I was set alight inside my skin. Was that . . . magic?”

  He sat at the foot of her bed. “I’ve no idea. The whole cave felt wrong to me, but when you destroyed the device, the world burned with cold fire.”

  “I expected to earn a hero’s funeral. Now . . . I just don’t know. And I’m afraid—” Her voice broke. She took a breath, then continued, “Is there any precedent for what we’ve done? Any way to predict the consequences?”

  “Right now, I don’t give a damn about the consequences. You’re alive, that’s what matters.” Mikani slid up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

  I won’t lose you.

  • • •

  TWO DOCTORS EXAMINED her; they took the better part of three hours, checking various vital signs and murmuring to each other. If Ritsuko hadn’t felt so shaky and nauseated, she would’ve protested more. Before they got started, she’d sent Mikani home to bathe and sleep though she had no confidence he would do the latter. Then the nurses insisted she eat a bowl of broth, which was more exhausting than it sounded. She wasn’t ready to go back to sleep, but her body insisted.

  Callers continued to pour in, Miss Wright and Mr. Nuall among them. Ritsuko found the chat with the latter particularly enlightening. To her surprise, she also entertained the patriarch of House Aevar. The Architect stopped personally in to give her a formal marque of appreciation. They all expressed gratitude for her courage. Though she wasn’t sure if she deserved the accolades, she took pride in them. Not bad for a woman they promoted under extreme duress. The staff had a hard time keeping journalists away, though. More than once, a nurse marched someone out of Ritsuko’s room in response to her bell.

  Later, Mr. Higgins visited, his freckled face drawn. “I brought pastries from your favorite shop if you feel up to eating them.”

  “Possibly tomorrow. It’s been a rough day.”

  “So I understand. You and Inspector Mikani are in all the newssheets though some versions of the story seem rather . . . outlandish.”

  “What are they saying?” she asked, amused.

  “In the seedy one, they claim you stopped an invasion of underground dwellers.”

  Ritsuko laughed. “Not exactly.”

  They chatted awhile longer, but she guessed Mr. Higgins could tell she was tiring, as he stood with a smile. “I won’t keep you from your rest.”

  As he went to the door, it opened and her partner pushed inside. His shoulders squared when he saw Higgins. The two men exchanged a few words and did an awkward dance so that Mr. Higgins could depart, then Mikani came over to the bed.

  “What’re you doing here? I thought I told you to get some sleep.”

  Even his smile looked tired, but at least he’d cleaned up. “You tell me many things. If I started listening, you might worry.”

  There was no point in arguing with Mikani, so she didn’t even try.

  “True. I hate hospitals.” She closed her eyes, shutting out the sight of him.

  He’d gained a hungry edge to his wolfish look, new lines about his eyes. They had always been an odd shade of blue, too dark for her to name the hue. Now they seemed layered, as if he no longer saw the world as she did, as if the magic she feared had changed him, too.

  “Is the last time—”

  “Yes. When my grandfather died.” Others might find their verbal shorthand confusing, but it was reassuring they could still do that, when so much else had changed.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she said.

  “That never ends well.”

  “I’m serious. Remember where we got the lead to investigate Gregory Toombs?”

  Mikani looked puzzled, then the answer came to him. “Mr. Gideon . . . Lorne came down to HQ with a tip, as I recall.”

  “Doesn’t that seem odd? Why would he report his own accomplice?”

  He thought for a few seconds. “Possibly the city was getting too hot to maneuver, and he thought offering us a suspect to chase would grant the time he needed to finish his grisly work.”

  Ritsuko nodded. “As good a guess as any. I suppose we’ll never know.”

  Mikani spent the night in her room—and he was there every time she woke up. Once, from a bad dream, another just because she’d been sleeping so much that her mind thought it was beyond time to get moving again. In the small hours, they talked. He tried to make her laugh. And with only periodic absences for food or hygiene, he stayed until she convinced the doctors to release her, two days later.

  Ritsuko was relieved to see the hospital doors close behind her. No matter how luxurious—and it was good care with Olrik paying for a private room—it still smelled of antiseptic and the masked odor of illness. Mikani opened the car door for her and helped her in; if she wasn’t still a little shaky, she’d have grumbled.

  It wasn’t until he turned the cruiser toward the Mountain District that she realized he didn’t have her
new address. “No. I’m closer to Central now, just outside of Temple.”

  He angled a look her way. “Since when?”

  “I told you I was moving.” She remembered that night well; Mikani had teased her two or three times about them setting up housekeeping in his cottage. Usually she enjoyed his sense of humor, but that memory carried a bit of a sting, as she sometimes imagined coming home to him for real.

  “I thought you were joking,” he said.

  “No, turn here.”

  He followed her directions, then parked at the curb before the rooming house where she’d rented a suite. It was warmer than the flat she’d left behind, with a building full of people with whom she shared a bath and regular meals. Though her hours meant she didn’t always get to eat with them, she enjoyed having the option when her schedule allowed. People fussed as Mikani escorted her up the stairs, and the woman who owned the house wouldn’t go away until her partner leveled a dark look on her.

  “Don’t frighten my neighbors,” she chided. “I have to live here.”

  “It’s . . . not what I’d have pictured for you.”

  “I like it. And it’s closer to work.” She’d managed to move that last morning before everything exploded, the day he commented she had arrived late.

  “Cozy.” He wandered through her flat, touching knickknacks here and there, probably because she’d never had any before.

  It’s . . . nice, having him here. I shouldn’t get used to it.

  “Thank you. I’d offer tea, but I’ve been ordered to rest.”

  “I’ll make it. I know my way around a kitchen better than you do anyway.” He went into the kitchen, and the cheerful sound of clinking china reached her ears.

  Ritsuko laughed, as it seemed unlikely, but after visiting his place, she knew it was true. “So how long do we have before we resume the madness?”

  “Gunwood’s giving us a full week, provided the rumor of an underground invasion continues to prove untrue.”

  “You read that, too?”

  “It’s the most entertaining of the theories.” A few moments later, he emerged with a tray, tea and sandwiches.