Part 12 (2/2)

As she ran, she let the yellow crystal hover just above the palm of her hand, and a moment later she was back at the first elevators shaft. There were no stairs. She leaned out through the still open doors, grabbed the maintenance ladder, and swung back into the shaft.

The crystal led her down two levels. There was a door, but it was not readily visible. She had to search, then close her mind and visualize it, before it s.h.i.+mmered into view. She wondered for just a moment why the car was all the way at the top. If she'd wondered another second, it would have been too long. She leaned out, blew the powder into the crack of the door and gripped the ladder. There was a grinding roar, and without thought she swung out and whipped herself through the air. As she moved, she screamed the opening charm and prayed it would work quickly enough. She launched herself at the doorway. Even as she slid through the opening, barely clearing the sides of the half-open door, hit the floor and rolled, the elevator ground to a halt. The inner door opened with a snick.

Amethyst glanced back, shuddered, and then turned to scan the hall. There was no one in sight, but she no longer needed the crystal to guide her. There was only one large, ornate doorway. A glow slipped out around the cracks. She stood still and closed her eyes. The s.h.i.+mmering vibration of the timeline crystals s.h.i.+vered through her pores. They were approaching resonance a the point when the radiance Ezzel had drawn from the depths of each would blend with that from the other until they formed a portal between them. At the final point of the ritual, he would step out between them, pa.s.s through that radiance, and the effects of the formula would become final and irreversible. In that small nexus of power, the past, present and future would be one single moment, and beyond that, the effects of the pa.s.sage of minutes, hours, days and centuries would have no further affect. That was the theory.

She didn't want to see it tested. She cleared her mind, drew in what energy she could from the air, from the amulets and crystals she wore, and even from the vibration of the timeline stones themselves. They were her crystals, after all, and they had been hers for many years. She'd spent time with them, studied them; a part of her was imprinted in their depths, and in the frequency of their vibration. Ezzel might have cleansed them before putting them to use, but somehow she didn't believe he'd done it. He knew a lot, and he had talent, but no one knew everything, and crystals were her specialty, not his. These were very powerful, very delicate artifacts, and he'd have to travel a long way to find another pair their equal. If he cleansed them improperly, he could disturb the balance, and the repercussions wouldn't quiet for months. If he was smart, he'd left them alone and taken his chances. She hoped it would be enough.

She crossed the hall and tried the k.n.o.b on the door. To her surprise, it wasn't locked. She turned it, peered through the crack, and gasped. The circle was immense, and it was active. The smoky cloud that obscured it was thick and dense. She couldn't' make out what was happening on the other side, and though she knew she was equally obscured, it did little to calm her nerves. This was powerful magic, and once the circle was in place, it was beyond foolish to try and cross it, or break it. The purpose of the circles of protection was to protect those inside the circle from what they summoned, and to protect those outside the circle from the energies contained within. Any sudden, unexpected break could destroy whoever stood inside the circle, or whoever stood outside. If it were powerful enough magic, it could be worse.

She took in the room at a glance. It was nothing like she'd expected. She'd known Ezzel for months, but as her apprentice, a quiet, soft-spoken man who was eager to do whatever she asked, and who might as well have been part of the wall when she wasn't working with him. This room, this explosion of wealth and power and ostentatious a nonsense a didn't equate with the man she'd thought she knew.

She approached the circle carefully. There were was nothing to see from where she stood, but she caught the scent of the incense he'd used to set the wards, and she felt the crystals, warm and s.h.i.+mmering, beneath that curtain. He hadn't placed them inside the inner circle. They had to be mounted side by side in the center of the concentric rings to form the portal.

That was good. Amethyst wouldn't break the circle. She knew the danger, and she wasn't going to send the building and herself cras.h.i.+ng into the pits of h.e.l.l if she could help it. It was possible, though, that if she concentrated she could disrupt the vibrations in the crystal enough to prevent the formation of the portal. If she managed it, Ezzel would be trapped inside his own circle. It might not last, but it would buy them some time. It might be all that she could do.

She stalked around the outside of the circle. The more she thought about the theft of the crystals, and the quiet, handsome man who'd fooled her so completely and then taken advantage of her with such cold, unfeeling arrogance, the angrier she became. She pressed the palms of her hand as close as she dared to the whirling mist. She felt forces alive and powerful, just beyond her touch. Their aura s.h.i.+vered along the outer edge of the circle. She felt their awareness as well. Ezzel would have no concentration to spare for her, but the spirits he'd summoned were under no such constraints, and they wanted out. As long as they sensed that she might work to break the circle, they would only watch her. She knew that didn't give her much time.

On the far right of the circle she felt the direct presence of the crystals, and she stopped. She stood very still, willed her mind to seek the twin vibrations, and sought to match them. She felt the spirits within the cloud drawing near, hovering and watching. They knew she could break the circle by attacking the crystals. What they didn't yet know was her purpose, and she knew she'd have to act very quickly to succeed.

The vibrations rippled through her, and she willed one of the smaller crystals she wore around her throat to match that s.h.i.+vering warmth. She drew it in slowly and tried to keep the intrusion as inconspicuous as possible. She would have one moment to strike, and she waited for it as long as she dared.

With a lash of will she s.h.i.+fted the vibration of her smaller crystal, fighting to keep it bound to the larger, stronger timeline crystals. The spirits in the circle s.n.a.t.c.hed her intentions from her thoughts and pounced with shrieks of anger and rage. Something dark rose behind her, but she didn't see it in time. She concentrated and forced her will into the aura of the combined crystals. The darkness folded over and bent double, and then struck like a snake. It wrapped around her and dragged her from her feet, driving the breath from her lungs in a savage wrench.

She screamed and clawed at the writhing shadow, but the link with the crystals was broken, and now she fought for her life. The thing that held her was dark, and the stench it released engulfed the room, blotting out even the hint of incense. She fought to breathe, but it squeezed inexorably, driving the air from her struggling lungs.

Within the circle, Ezzel sensed a s.h.i.+ft in the rhythms of the circle. He could not react, but he was aware. If he let his concentration waver for even a moment, he would be destroyed. Still, the disturbance itched at the back of his mind. It was the crystals. Their vibration had s.h.i.+fted very slightly. If they s.h.i.+fted more, he might not be able to bring them back into alignment a he might never escape the circle with his life.

Then, as suddenly as the disturbance had intruded, it was gone. He saw nothing but the table before him, the elements of the ritual, and the inviolate white smoky ring surrounding him. As he worked, he smiled.

NINETEEN.

Donovan reached the gla.s.s outer-wall of the elevator quickly. He leaned around the corner and caught the terrified stares of Vein and his companions, but he didn't have time to worry about their state of mind. The sunrise was only moments away, and if he didn't get them out and under cover soon, fright would be the least of their troubles.

He examined the intricate silver mesh worked into the gla.s.s, which was thick, maybe three inches and very solid. Donovan had to lean out from the wall to see this, and the wind buffeted him each time he did, threatening to blow him from his perch. The Thunderbird spirit lightened him, but every blessing has its curse. Each motion threatened to send him flying away in the grip of some errant breeze, and it was difficult to move because in his lightened state, every twitch caused a seemingly disproportionate reaction.

He'd come prepared for a lot of things, and though blasting through an outer wall wasn't something he'd antic.i.p.ated, he didn't hesitate. He had several smaller pouches tucked deep in his pockets, and after only a few moments searching he pulled out a small, blue leather bag. It was filled with a white paste. He took this, being very careful not to touch the paste itself with his fingers, and spread it in a large, two foot circle by squeezing it out the top of the bag. He would have made it larger, but there wasn't much paste in the bag, and his reach was severely limited by the need to clutch a jutting brick ridge with his other hand. When he had completed the circle, he pulled back and gripped the wall with both hands. There wasn't much time left.

He glanced into the interior of the elevator. Just at that instant one of the vampires rushed the gla.s.s and crashed into it with all the force he could muster. Startled, Donovan drew back. He lost hold with one hand and cried out. If his full body weight had come down unexpectedly like that on the one hand still gripping the wall, he'd have plummeted to the ground below. Cursing, he swung out from the building, wis.h.i.+ng he'd been able to check the violence with which he'd kicked off. He needed to get back to that gla.s.s, to touch the circle he'd created and to finish what he'd started, but it was all he could do to hold on.

Inside the elevator, Bruno, who had panicked, was dragged from the gla.s.s by Vein and Kali, and held, kicking and screaming for release, as they all watched Donovan's fight for purchase. He didn't think he could drag himself back to the wall. His fingers were slipping. He felt his nails crumbling and his fingertips sc.r.a.ping painfully. His knuckles and wrist throbbed with the effort of maintaining his grip.

Everything slowed in that moment. He saw the faces of those trapped in the elevator clearly, the terror-stricken rage of the one, and the anxious attention of the others. He saw the circle he'd created on the gla.s.s, and knew he had to reach it.

A cry rose from above and behind him, and he cursed. He thought, just for a second, that it was another dragon, and his effort to whip about and verify this fear nearly dragged him from the wall. Then something heavy hit him in the back, and he spun toward the wall, gripping, clinging, finding purchase and hugging the brick. The second time the cry rose, he knew it for what it was.

”Three times, Asmodeus,” he breathed. ”I owe you.”

He couldn't see the bird, but he knew it had risen to circle far above. Donovan didn't hesitate. It was now, or never. He reached out, pressed the tip of his nail to the outer edge of the circle of paste, turned his head from the elevator and pressed his cheek to the brick. He willed the heat down the length of his arm, commanding it to pick up speed at his elbow and flash through his fingers, where it erupted in a spark.

The paste didn't light. Instead, a reddish glow circled the ring slowly, starting at the point he'd touched the paste and working around until the entire ring turned rosy red, blue, and then white. The brilliance of it was unbearable; Donovan averted his eyes, and the vampires shrank back in fear. The sun might have dropped from the sky to pay a close, personal visit it was so hot. Donovan was bathed in sweat, and he felt the skin on the back of his neck searing. Then, with an odd, wet sound, the center dropped out of the circle and fell away. It tumbled through the air, its edges molten and dripping, and crashed into the alley below with a tinkle of shattered gla.s.s and a hiss of steam.

The vampires didn't hesitate. Though it was small, barely large enough to accommodate their shoulders, they were out that hole in seconds, ignoring the heat, paying no attention when their clothing, hair, and skin touched the molten gla.s.s and burned. They hit the wall like scurrying insects and crawled downward with incredible speed, hurrying toward the shadows, sewers, or whatever protection they could find from the rising sun. All but Vein.

The young vampire stood inside, stared out at Donovan, then reached through the hole and held out his hand. Donovan hesitated only a second then took the offered grip. He released his hold on the wall and swung out, and the moment he was directly in front of the molten hole in the elevator wall, Vein drew him through.

”You don't eat much, do you?” Vein asked.

”It will wear off. Get out. I can handle this from here. You only have a few minutes.”

Vein hesitated, staring at the hole in the outer wall longingly.

”Go,” Donovan said, pus.h.i.+ng lightly on Vein's shoulder. ”There's nothing more you can do here. Either I can stop this, or I can't, but you need to get out. The sun is rising.”

It was true. Vein nodded, dove through the hole, and was gone. Wisps of smoke marked his pa.s.sage, and Donovan wondered briefly if it was already too late. He hoped the vampire would reach the ground and safety, but there was no more time to waste on it. He stepped to the inner door, pressed his amulet to it and spoke the command sharply. He felt resistance; there were charms and wards on that door, but they weren't strong enough. There was a mechanical whir, the sound of heavy locks disengaging, and the gla.s.s slid aside. Beyond it the sliding metal doors opened onto an empty pa.s.sageway, and Donovan dove through.

He sensed Amethyst's presence, though he didn't know where. He should have been able to locate her, but all he felt was the circle. It was huge, powerful, and no matter what the cost, he knew he had to stop it. He found the elevator shaft. The door was open, as Amethyst had left it. He glanced over the rim and saw that the car rested a ways below him. He reached out, gripped the ladder inside, and then dropped. He didn't bother to climb down because he was still light. He floated the two floors to the elevator's roof, scanned it, and found the maintenance hatch. He opened it and dropped through. Moments later he was in the pa.s.sage, facing the large, ornate doors of Ezzel's inner sanctum.

He started forward, and then froze. A blood-curdling scream rose, and he recognized it. Amethyst!

Donovan dove through the door, rolled to the side, and stared at the huge, smoke-curtained circle across the room. A cry erupted behind him, but this time he knew it instantly, and he called the bird, Asmodeus, to his shoulder. It landed heavily, nearly knocking him sprawling. The Thunderbird bag was wearing off, but he was still only about half his full weight.

Amethyst lay limp squeezed in a long, dark tentacle of shadow. She struggled feebly, but there wasn't much fight left in her. Donovan turned away with an effort and concentrated on the circle. He knew he had to stop what was happening. He pulled a flat, clear crystal from his pocket and concentrated on it. He couldn't break the protections, even for a quick glimpse of what was happening on the far side. He could drag bits and pieces of images from the recent past of the surrounding room, however, and piece some of it together.

The crystal fogged; stayed that way for what seemed forever, and was likely about two seconds, and then an image s.h.i.+mmered to life. It was a vial, the vial that held Vanessa's blood. It rested on a long table, but that was all he could make out. He dropped the crystal back into his pocket and quickly walked the perimeter of the circle, as Amethyst had done. He found the crystals, felt their near resonance, and cursed sharply. His time was nearly gone.

Drawing a long, thin wand from a leather case on his hip, he held it before him with both hands. He dropped his head between his arms and concentrated, willing his essence up through his slender frame and into his arms. He sent it in waves down toward the thin strip of yarrow wood and the even thinner crystal tip. The stone was bound to the wand with a detailed weave of copper, bronze, gold and silver wire. As he drove his will down the length of the instrument, the crystal glittered, and then glowed brightly. The light was white and very bright, like that of the heat he'd used to melt the elevator wall, but somehow different. There was no heat, and though an aura of energy stretched up and out from that center, encasing him in a sheath of energy, there was no sound.

The old crow, Asmodeus, clutched his shoulder tightly, and Donovan reached out to it. He pictured what he wanted in his mind and pressed that image into the bird's thoughts, forcing aside the few barriers remaining between them. Their bond, which had strengthened slowly since their first encounter in the old church, solidified in that moment. The bird knew his thoughts and acted.

Donovan pressed his mind to the outer circle, wove through tendrils of smoke and the whispered voices of demons to the crystals, and the portal. It was nearly complete, and instead of trying to disrupt that harmony, Donovan hastened it. In the same second that the timeline stones resonated as one, Asmodeus launched off of Donovan's shoulder. The bird shot through that portal like an arrow, bursting through outer and inner circles without leaving a ripple, and disappeared from sight.

A heavy thump to his left told Donovan that the guardians of the protective ring had ceased their attack on Amethyst. Either she was dead, or they were coming after him. He couldn't afford to think about it. If he allowed the fear to seep in and taint his thoughts, the portal would fail, and they would all die. He stood very still, concentrated, and waited, keeping that slim hole in the fabric of smoke and dreams open.

The portal hummed to life with sudden intensity, and Ezzel very nearly lost control. He sensed it before he heard the sound, and that moment's warning saved him from total disaster. Something burst through into the circle, screeched like a banshee, and dove for the table. It was too late.

He had one final step to complete, and immortality would be his. None of the rest of it would matter. He didn't even believe that he would be destroyed if the circle's protections crumbled if the ritual was completed first. The building might cease to exist, but he would go on.

He heard his raven launch from its perch, and he braced himself against the pull of its mind on his own. The bird had been with him for nearly a decade, and their minds were linked very closely. He wanted badly to glance through the bird's eyes and see what had entered the circle, but he didn't' dare turn from the ritual. He poured the ashes of the priest's bone marrow carefully into a bowl in the center of the altar. He'd already added the other ingredients, one by one, stirring, mulching, pummeling some of it to paste and straining out imperfections. When the ashes were beaten in, only blood remained. The vial that held all that remained of Vanessa rested on a silver stand beside the bowl.

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