Armageddon Rules Page 7

Despite his claim of having a gopher in his pants, I almost believed him.

  Eight

  FRIDAY CAME TOO soon. The truth was, if Friday had come next year, it would have come too soon. I’m not a controlling, possessive woman. Okay, I am possessive. I’m terribly jealous, and impossibly in love, but it wasn’t just that. I missed Liam already, and he wasn’t even gone.

  We drove to the airport, and Ari came along to give me company on the way back. I had hoped for trouble getting through security. Or a long baggage line, or a problem with Liam’s passport. Anything to give us more time. Airport security selected me for the random mammogram and anal probe and let Liam breeze through.

  We sat in the terminal, lines of passengers rushing past us and announcers blaring out warnings in every language on earth. I leaned up against him, and he put his arm around me.

  “It’s only two weeks, M. Then we’ll have enough Glitter to end this curse. Enough money to retire on, if you want. We can raise our kids and work when we want to, if we want to.” His chin prickled the top of my head as I looked up at him.

  “Kids?” We’d talked about one. I wanted a daughter of my own. Liam wanted a son. The thought of being responsible for another life scared me worse than a platoon of gremlins in an espresso bar, but it would give me the chance to love someone the way I wished I had been.

  Liam misread the look on my face. “We don’t have to have a whole litter.”

  “How ’bout one, to start? We can add on later.” I didn’t bother trying to hide the tears that came to my eyes.

  Liam wrapped me in his arms and held me. All my adult life I’d always been the strong woman. The one who could walk into a room full of goblins knowing I’d be shooting someone. The one who climbed a beanstalk in spite of my fear of heights and did a low oxygen jump to escape. With Liam, I didn’t have to be that person.

  “Don’t go,” I said, holding on to his shirt with both hands.

  He put his hands over mine, rough and warm, and smiled. “I’ll be back before you know it. Like that guy said in the third film, Si seulement il y avait un moyen de sauver les canards. It means ‘I couldn’t ever forget you.’”

  He’d actually lamented not being able to save the ducks, but I didn’t feel like pointing that out. Liam was leaving. No matter what I told him, no matter what I said, he was going to get on that plane and fly to Europe. I’d spend the rest of the month alone while he worked a job that only mattered to him because of our future.

  Then it was time for him to board. We kissed. I said I loved him more times than I could count, and he walked away to security. I stood, isolated in a throng of passing people, alone in a crowd.

  * * *

  ARI WAITED FOR me back at the car, lost in her own thoughts. As we drove back, I finally spoke. “How’d training go?” I hadn’t seen Ari the rest of Wednesday but heard she didn’t get back until well after three in the morning.

  Ari rubbed her fingers together, generating surges of lightning as she worried.

  “You failed the retake in civics?” I privately resolved to make it clear to Grimm that if he cut into her study time, he was footing the bill for her retaking the class.

  “The damage from the Wild Magic isn’t healing as fast as Grimm thought it would.”

  I had to write a five-paragraph paper on each of the sources of magic during training, then had to rewrite when an off-leash hellhound ate not only the paper but the courier carrying it back to the Agency for me. The way I understood it, a seal bearer’s magic came from three sources: first off, the realm seal itself. Secondly, from inside the seal bearer herself. Those two were limited. The magic in the environment, around us, that was Wild Magic. It could be safely used as long as it was mixed with a little of the other two.

  “Grimm will think of something. I’ll make him.” I silently worried as I drove back. Magic couldn’t directly oppose magic. Damage from one type of magic couldn’t be undone with another type, normally. Then again, nothing about magic-wielding, seal-bearing princesses was remotely normal. So maybe the same rules didn’t apply. Maybe.

  * * *

  BACK AT THE Agency, I sank into a normal workday. I convinced the kobolds to leave by telling them I’d seen a dead deer in the alley on my way in. I sent Payday George away with a twenty-dollar bill and received a promise not to come back. A promise that would last at least until Monday. I returned another call from the owner of a shoe factory in west Pennsylvania who couldn’t figure out why his factory machines turned themselves on at night. That one I’d have to deal with. If you think child labor laws are restrictive, elf labor laws are about a dozen times worse.

  Then I put my head down on my desk and wished for the day to be over.

  You’d think that having worked the last eight years for the Fairy Godfather, I’d get at least one wish. No such luck. Rosa poked her head in the door.

  “Someone I need to take care of?”

  “Yes.” In eight years, I’d come to believe that if Rosa spoke more than six words at a time, she’d explode. Single syllables, a glare that could turn your blood to ice, and a sawed-off shotgun kept our lobby in order.

  “Send them in.”

  A moment later, a soft knock on the door preceded a trio of dwarves entering my office. Three feet tall, nasty beards, and every last one of them had a beer bottle in one hand. And I recognized these three. “You’re too late. Liam’s flight was this morning. Didn’t he tell you he was going to Europe on business?”

  The tallest of the three (by about an inch) took the red cap off his head and walked forward. “Magnus Mage, ma’am. Ms. Locks, we were hoping that you could help us. It ain’t about yer man.” He shuffled forward and dropped a jewelry box on my desk. “And we were ’posed to have this ready Monday, but Yiffy there bet me he could go on a longer bender.”

  I picked up the box, black metal with invisible hinges, and snapped it open. Inside lay a single gold band with a diamond inset. A ridiculously large diamond inset. I know my gems, and there was no way this wasn’t real. “You made this for Liam?”

  “Aye. Though I think ’twer for you. He been giving us the fire to forge it for the last few months.”

  Gaze locked on the ring, I lifted it, slipping it on. “He wasn’t playing cards.” Right then I knew I’d never take it off. “So tell me what you need.”

  The second dwarf stepped forward, hat in hand. “No authorities, miss. We were hoping you could handle this without their involvement. It’d be best if you saw for yourself.”

  “Few ground rules: If you’ve killed someone, I’m calling the cops. If you are dealing drugs, I’m calling the cops. If you are wanting me to buy Girl Scout cookies, I’m calling the cops. Anything else, I’ll help you with.” I grabbed my purse, put on my jacket, and headed for the door.

  “Rosa, tell Grimm I’m doing some field investigation,” I said as I left. She gave me the stink eye like always. Then I took three wee little men down to my car and we went for a drive.

  It took almost forty-five minutes to get there, mostly because the dwarves couldn’t see over the dashboard to give me direction, and wouldn’t sit in the booster seat I kept for exactly that purpose. When we finally pulled up in front of a tired strip mall at the edge of Chinatown, I was so glad to be there I almost forgave their constant bickering.

  “Small Wonders Jewelry,” read the sign outside the shop. The dwarves piled out of the car and into the shop, opening bars and grates and finally opening six different locks. Once we were inside, they locked the whole thing behind us.

  “I thought you guys were forbidden to have shops anywhere outside of Kingdom.” Generally speaking, you don’t find anything but humans roaming the city, and definitely not setting up businesses. Dwarves, however, could pretend to be little people.

  “That’s practically an Americans with Disabilities violation, right there,” said Magnus. I followed them into a back room, into a vault, and there Magnus unlocked a door a toddler would have trouble fitting through. I recogni
zed the room inside as an elevator. “You’ll have to go down by yerself first, on account of your hideous size and smell,” said Magnus. “We’ll be along after you. Don’t touch nothing.”

  So I crammed myself into the box, pulling my knees up to my chest, and panicked as the elevator plunged downward. The ride went on for what felt like two or three eternities. I really can’t say how far it went down, traveling so fast my stomach caught in my throat, but when the elevator finally slowed and the door opened, my legs were stiff.

  I stumbled and rolled out of the elevator, surrounded by a fog of smoke and the roar of flames. It was your typical dwarven forge. I’d spent a lot of time in Liam’s studio where he did his ironwork, so I knew the basics. Get things hot, use pure muscle to bend them. Pretty much the same approach men use for everything.

  Clouds of coal smoke floated above me. Then the elevator rattled. It was near impossible for it to be back that fast. To move like that it must have plummeted at terminal velocity or faster. A trio of dwarves stumbled out, their hair twisted wildly, looking like they’d skydived down the chute.

  “This is where Liam’s been coming?”

  Magnus nodded. “Been working with us for a year. And all he wanted was a few trinkets.”

  “How exactly did he pay you?” I didn’t keep secrets from Liam, and I was more than a little surprised he’d managed to keep this one from me. He wasn’t usually good at that sort of thing.

  “Fool. Paid us in pure cubic zirconia and hellfire. Anyone can come up with diamonds or rubies. Zirconia, on the other hand is worth its weight in gold.”

  Magnus walked over and took my hand. “Let me see that.”

  I grudgingly removed the ring and handed it to him. He held it in the forge until the gold glowed. “We put your name and his inside the ring. That and the sculpting ain’t visible till it gets hot.” He removed the band from the fire and revealed the hidden script. Only dwarves had the skill to do that kind of writing. And the outside of the ring was no longer plain gold—it had a pattern on it, like scales. In fact, the whole ring looked changed. It was a dragon clasping the diamond in his mouth.

  “That’s amazing. And if it weren’t for the third-degree burns it would take to see it, I’d admire it more often. Seriously, what is it with dwarves and engravings you can only see when you are being burned to death or baked in a casserole?”

  Magnus snorted and dropped the glowing ring into his hand. Dwarves were flame resistant, sure, but this seemed extreme. Then he grabbed my hand and slipped the ring on. It was cool to the touch, despite the fact that I could still see the scales fading into the gold. “Put yer hand in the fire.”

  I held my hand closer and closer to the fire, then passed my hand briefly over the flame. I felt a warm draft, but it didn’t even singe my sleeve. The next pass I reached into the flame. The flame flickered over me like warm running water.

  “We didn’t need no hellfire fer the forging. But fer the enchantment, that took all he could give.”

  I closed my hand into a fist, resolved that I would never take that ring off again willingly. Protection from hellfire. The ability to be close to him and not worry about whether a burp would leave me with blisters. An engagement ring. It was everything I could ask for.

  My determination forged as firmly as the ring on my hand, I looked up at them. “Show me what’s wrong.”

  The trio walked away, down paths through heaps of swords and armor, kicking aside a pile of what I’m dead certain were rubies. Magnus pointed down into a hole, a pit of darkness. “We were looking for more zirconia. Too many worthless diamonds, and stupid gold blocking our way. Then Yiffy gets the idea to dig under the blasted stuff.

  “Wait.” That last phrase had triggered an image in my mind. A certain memory of a disaster from a few years ago. “Tell me you didn’t dig out of bounds. Tell me you didn’t dig beyond the surveyor’s limits.”

  Three very small men all avoided looking at me.

  “Did you dig into a freaking balrog? Again? I don’t care what I said, if you dug up a balrog, say so now so that I can go get the army. I know you all want magic solutions, but nothing says ‘You shall not pass’ like a howitzer.” I crossed my arms and tapped my foot while I waited.

  “Ain’t no balrog,” said Magnus. “Truth be, I don’t know what it is.”

  “Anything going to eat me or otherwise kill me if I go in there and take a look?” I watched their faces for signs of a lie. Dwarves aren’t known for being big on betrayal, but I’d rather catch Judas now than later.

  “No, ma’am,” said Magnus.

  So I took out my flashlight and headed into the tunnel. True to form, it went deeper and deeper, arcing down so steeply that at times I almost slipped. Also, because they’d dug it for themselves, I was reduced to crawling. I’d bill them for the dress slacks later.

  Then the tunnel stopped up short. Dwarves leave smooth rock behind as they go, perfectly round with a nice rough patch underfoot to keep you from slipping, or to shred the knees in two-hundred-dollar dress slacks. The wall broke off into rough rock. I stepped in and one glance told me whatever the dwarves had tunneled into, it was old.

  Old as in high-arched ceilings, tall enough that I could easily stand up. Old as in “not built by humans.” The floor underneath was carved rock, carved in a pattern like scales that I had seen before from a curse. As I stood there, the tunnel lit up.

  In movies, the explorers always find lit torches. Torches require fuel, and they tend to dry out. The wall sconces held flames, but not torches. So this tunnel might be forgotten, but it wasn’t abandoned. The lighting still worked, coming on when needed.

  A heavy oak door hung on iron hinges in the wall, with an intricate lock and cast metal handle in the shape of a gargoyle. It stood slightly open, and from behind it came a warm breeze with the scent of sulfur. I shone my light at the edge of the door and noticed a ring of white crystal just inside the room.

  Definitely time to call for help.

  I took my compact out of my purse and opened it. “Grimm? I could really use some of your expertise.”

  He snapped into view, a smile on his face. “Liam’s flight left New York without incident a few minutes ago. Where exactly are you, my dear?”

  I held up the compact and showed it around. “Dwarves found it by accident.”

  “Do I need to call the army? I’d like to remind you that you are not a wizard. Being able to pull a card from a deck does not even qualify you as a magician, Marissa.”

  I held the compact up to show him the door. “Not a balrog. Whatever it is, it’s old. You three, was that door open when you found it?” I spun to look at the dwarves, who’d followed me down. Again they studied their feet. “You do not open doors. Especially not ancient ones in collapsed tunnels where you aren’t supposed to be in the first place. Grimm, there’s like half a dozen workplace safety violations here, but I don’t see anything for me to do. Any idea what this place is?”

  Grimm thought for a moment. “I think if there were anything hungry behind it, you would already be eaten. Open the door, but don’t go in. Let’s see what lies beyond.”

  I swung the door open, and in response, the sconces in the room lit up, throwing orange light across it. From edge to edge, it had to be at least thirty yards across, and the walls were the same crystal that ringed the door. It glowed orange, pulsing with a light like lava. In the center of the room stood a huge table, tall enough that it would come to my chin, and off to the side was a circle of runes I recognized as a summoning circle.

  The circle pulsed red and the occasional burst of flame ringed the edges. “They left it open,” said Grimm, almost to himself. “That explains the additional poodles. Marissa, shut the door.” I swung the door shut, and as I did a gust of wind and a foul odor of sulfur came gusting out, buffeting me. I threw myself against it.

  “Who has the key?” said Grimm, yelling at the dwarves. Magnus rushed forward and handed me a cast-iron key, long and slender with a sing
le tooth at the end of it. I thrust it into the lock and turned it. At that moment, claws scraped across the wood on the other side. I stood rooted to the spot as something snuffled on the other side, letting out bellows. A sour stench worked its way into my nose.

  I yanked the key from the lock, backed away up the tunnel, then crawled as fast as I could through the darkness. At any moment, I expected I’d hear the screams of dwarves being taken by something, and then it would be after me. Back at the forge, I ran straight for the elevator, slipping in a pile of diamonds and getting quite a bruise from where I landed on a helmet.

  It wasn’t until after the elevator ride, which seemed to go on for hours, that I finally stopped gasping and shaking. I considered myself good at my job. But part of being good at my job was understanding which battles I was able to fight and which ones were a job for hired spell slingers, priests, or lawyers.

  In the closed-up jeweler’s shop, I stopped running and found a mirror where I could have a proper conversation with Grimm.

  “What was that?” I still hadn’t caught my breath.

  Grimm waited for me to stop panting, then spoke. “The room is most certainly a dealing room. Contracts, not cards. It’s like a visitor’s forum several hundred miles above the surface of Inferno, where someone foolish enough to make deals with demons could do so. Whoever last accessed the room left the summoning gate unlocked, and then our half-sized friends opened the door. Now that it’s shut, we shouldn’t have worse than normal poodle issues, though I’d prefer to close that portal.”

  “So whatever that was could get out?”

  “No, my dear. That’s Celestial Crystal forming the boundary. While I’m certain it would have been quite frightening, demons cannot cross into a realm unless called by one under contract. If you’d like to go back down there and open the door, I’ll have a word with it.” Grimm said it like I was going to the grocery store.

  “That doesn’t sound like a good idea, Grimm.” I had this mortal fear of death that kept me from doing certain things.