Charlie Madigan: Shadows Before The Sun Part 4

Images seemed to emerge from the mirror. Me lying on the gra.s.s in Stone Mountain as my mark warmed and Hank knelt down beside me. Going down the steps into Underground and the mark warming even before I saw Hank stand from his seat on the fountain ledge.

I could find him. The mark connected us. I had my own built-in radar system right here, embedded into my skin. Before all this, I hadn't given it much thought. I hadn't needed to. Hank wasn't lost; he was in the grid. I'd known exactly where to go. But now that he was missing, the mark would be instrumental. If Hank was in the city, I'd find him.

All I had to do was get into Fiallan, tour every inch of the place if I had to, and see if the mark warmed. And when it did, the Circe and I would have a nice little chat from the end of my fist.

Feeling more hopeful than I had since the delegation invaded my office the day before, I hurried into my bedroom and found a pair of clean cargo pants and a black T-shirt. I gave my hair a quick blow-dry in front of the mirror; it had grown since being chopped off in the black crafting ritual that saved Aaron's life, and could now be worn in a ponytail that actually stayed-mostly. The bangs still slipped out of the band to curve around my chin. I'd have to dye it, I realized suddenly.

The game had changed. The sirens who had apprehended Hank behind Station One had seen me. Sure, they'd seen me covered in blood, grime, and the gray sand of Charbydon, and while I doubted any of them could pick me in a lineup, I didn't want to take any chances. I flicked the ends, remembering when Hank had done the same after it had been chopped, remembering the crooked grin he gave me when he did it. My throat grew thick. Determined to see that grin again, I looked away from the mirror and finished getting ready.

I jogged downstairs and asked Rex to run to the drugstore for a box of dye, while I pulled on my boots and then selected weapons from my own personal a.r.s.enal.

After Rex returned, Emma helped me bleach and then dye my dark reddish brown hair to a dirty blonde. "Why not a glamour spell?" she asked from behind me, working the dye into my hair as I sat on the vanity stool.

I watched her through the mirror. "Because the Circe are said to be very powerful. If they see through the glamour, they'll wonder who I am and why I'm trying to hide behind it."

Once my hair was done-and no one liked the new color; Brim even growled at me-I stood at the front door and hugged my kid tightly, kissed her several times on her forehead, breathed her into my lungs, and prayed for her safety and my safe return. I threw caution to the wind and kissed Rex on the cheek, gave Brim a ruffle on the head, and then left the house, reminding Em to eat well and do all of her homework.

4.

I gazed out the window of the taxi as it entered Hartsfield-Jackson airport, a place that had once seen two million people pa.s.s through its terminals every year. Now those giant buildings were silent and dark, locked up along with all the hangars, offices, and other buildings until the day the darkness lifted and air travel safely resumed.

The darkness above had no effect on inter-dimensional travel, however, so the off-world terminals continued operating as usual. Atlanta was the city where genius scientist t.i.tus Mott discovered the other dimensions of Elysia and Charbydon. The first official portal into those worlds had been built here at Hartsfield-Jackson. Other terminals eventually followed: New York, L.A., London, Paris . . . But ours remained the busiest and our city housed one of the largest off-world populations around.

As the taxi swept along the curve of the road, the terminal came into view. Made of gla.s.s and steel, it shone brightly like a beacon rising from a world of darkness.

Instead of entering through the security wing, I had the taxi driver drop me off at Arrivals and entered through the main doors. My backpack was filled with a couple changes of clothes, a shower bag, and essentials. The small black duffel I carried over one shoulder held backup clips for my Hefties, additional rounds for my firearm, and capsules for my Nitro-gun just in case I ran into any Charbydons-which wasn't likely since only two Charbydons had ever set foot in Elysia since the discovery of worlds. And those two were delegates of the Federation. But, it never hurt to be prepared . . .

My actual weapons were secured on my person. 9mm on my hip. The Nitro-gun snug against my right rib cage. The Hefty tucked against my left. I was right-handed, and depending on what perp I was going after, I liked to keep the most effective weapon on my left, so I could grab it easily with my right hand. The Hefty was extremely effective at subduing Elysians. The High Frequency Tag emitted a sound wave capable of dropping most any from that world. The Adonai, however, proved a little harder to detain, but still we managed.

Game face on, armed to the maximum allowance by law for an officer engaged in inter-dimensional travel, I strode through the automatic doors and into the terminal.

The center of the long rectangular terminal where I entered was the hub of activity. There was seating, a few kiosks selling books and maps, a cafe, coffee shop, and bakery . . . The center area was pretty much neutral, designed to be comfortable to beings of all three worlds. But walk left or right and things began to change. To the right was the Charbydon ticket counter and checkpoint for those traveling to the city of Telmath, the capital city of Charbydon. There was seating and a few more kiosks run by goblins and then the final security checkpoint before the giant blue sphere glowing at the end of the terminal.

Been there, done that. I swung a left and headed toward the glowing sphere that occupied the other end of the terminal-a two-story sphere lit with swirling pinks and oranges.

Every world, every planet, had its own unique frequency, a natural emission of electromagnetic sound waves. Its own "music." t.i.tus Mott's harmonic resonance generator had accidentally dialed into the unique frequency of Elysia, creating a portal into a world that had inspired our myths and ideas of heavenly paradise, a world where the beings within could no longer hide, no longer deny they'd been visiting us for eons, meddling, and inspiring myths of G.o.ds, angels, faeries, and other paranormal creatures. The discovery of "h.e.l.l" or Charbydon as it was called, wasn't far behind and we were to learn the same-the n.o.bles, jinn, ghouls, darkling fae; they were the beings behind the legends and fears of demons, monsters, and dark G.o.ds.

And though it wasn't the biblical Revelation, the term had stuck. Fourteen years ago, the world changed. Laws and policies were put into place, and the Federation of Worlds was created along with the Integration Task Force, ITF, which policed and monitored the influx of new beings into our society.

Now there were terminals in several major world cities. But unlike air travel where you could leave from one place and arrive in most any chosen location, the spheres were only connected to one location apiece. Atlanta's Charbydon gate only took you to Telmath. The Elysian gate only opened to the Adonai's capital city of Ithonia. Yet another reason Atlanta was the hub for off-world travel and immigrants-we had the only two spheres that lead to both off-world capital cities.

Unfortunately, this meant I wouldn't be arriving directly into Fiallan. I had to go to Ithonia first and then contact a Magnus-level mage to whisk me to my final destination. And they didn't come cheap, either.

Since I already had my government travel arrangements, I bypa.s.sed the ticket counter and headed straight for the main gate guarded by a gate agent, a highly trained security expert with loaded weapons beneath his desk and a license to take down any threat.

The terminal in Ithonia had been created with much reluctance on the Adonai's part. They considered their city and land pristine. They thought any influx of off-worlders would pollute the beauty and sanct.i.ty of their world. Never mind that they'd been coming to our world since the dawn of civilization, using Earth as a battleground in their war with the n.o.bles.

Travel to Ithonia was limited by visa and stays longer than a week required special permission. Ridiculous given that terms were different should any Adonai want to come to Earth.

The Adonai took entrance into their city very seriously, so I wasn't surprised to find the agent was an Adonai, a tall, blond-haired, undeniably beautiful male. Easy to see why they'd been called G.o.ds and angels by early mankind. And it probably killed him every time he had to allow a human to pa.s.s through the gate.

"ID and papers," he said, holding out an expectant hand.

I gave him my travel papers and then set my ID on his desk. His brow rose at what he read, and then he took a moment to compare the face on the photo to mine, the hair color having thrown him off. He set the paper and ID down and pierced me with an unimpressed, arrogant look that instantly got under my skin. I returned his lovely welcome with a smile that dripped smart-a.s.s.

He slid my information back to me. "Bags on the counter."

I rolled my eyes. "Really?" My credentials and permits were in order. He didn't have to search my stuff, but in the end it was the prerogative of the gate agent, and not something I could or would argue about. Even so, it annoyed me because I knew he wasn't holding me up due to any threat or suspicion I posed, but because he apparently got off on being a jerk.

With a martyred sigh, I lugged my duffel onto his desk followed by my backpack. "Enjoy yourself. The underwear is near the bottom." I turned, intending to plop myself dramatically onto one of the seats against the opposite wall.

I froze midstride.

It took several seconds to wrap my brain around the sight of the veiled person sitting there, radiating power without even trying. Her hands moved with speed and grace, bright red nails flashing.

I stepped closer to the oracle. "Alessandra. Are you . . . knitting?"

Her hands stilled and her chin lifted a notch. The veil dropped back slightly, revealing more of her features than I'd ever seen in the smoky haze and dark lighting of her theater where she held court like the Queen of Underground, dispensing riddles and prophecies at a hefty price.

Alessandra and I weren't friends. In fact, she seemed to take great pleasure in making things as difficult as possible whenever I procured her services-which I always thought a huge waste of time since she made the department pay dearly and then never gave us much but cryptic answers and sarcasm. The one time I'd used her prophetic services for personal reasons, to find out if my sister Bryn was possessed, she'd been little help.

The oracle was actually quite pretty, her coloring-otherworldly mossy green eyes, deep red lips, and curly raven hair-vivid against pale skin. Of course, this was Sandra, so her expression was the usual sly amus.e.m.e.nt and the monumental smugness that came from two thousand years of being a world-renowned know-it-all.

"Yes, I'm knitting, blondie. It calms my mind," she said, setting the blob of fuzzy pink and white yarn into an open bag next to her. "Sit down, Charlie."

I glanced over my shoulder. The agent was setting all my clips on the counter. If he decided to count every one, we'd be here forever.

"Going on a little excursion?" I asked, taking a seat. "Family visit?"

Her smile hiked at the corners as she angled in her seat to face me, her veil dropping in a slow fall of fabric to her shoulders. "Trying to discover my background, are we?"

I shrugged, glaring at the gate agent. "Thought I'd give it a try." He began to dig through my shower bag. "So what's with all the secrecy, anyway?"

"Not secrecy. There are those who have been around since my emergence. My past is not hidden. But it is mine. Mine to share if I choose."

The Adonai jerkwad held up my bra with two fingers like it was radioactive. I crossed my arms over my chest as my cheeks grew warm. "Is that really necessary?" I griped loudly, but he simply ignored me. "There's a blue one, too."

I wanted to sink my fist into the superior expression he gave me. My teeth clenched.

Sandra tsked. "You always rise to the bait, Charlie. You're so predictable."

I snorted. "Everything is predictable to you." Others would say I was the opposite-they never knew what I'd do next.

"Not everything."

It was something in her voice, a resignation, a worry, that got my attention. Her eyes swam with something I'd never seen from her before. Fear, I realized. And then it was gone. Before I could digest that, her next words completely bowled me over. "I'm not visiting anyone in Ithonia, Charlie. I am here to escort you into Fiallan to find your siren."

I blinked, frowned, then frowned some more . . . And then I scanned the terminal for a hidden camera because the Oracle of All Oracles showing up here, to help me-me of all people, who made it a point to give Alessandra as good as she gave-was just a little too bizarre to comprehend.

She stared with one eyebrow c.o.c.ked as I grappled. Finally I found my voice, but she cut me off. "I know what you're going to say, of course. And I don't need to be an oracle to know that much. I'm going with you. I don't like it. But I'm going. So you might as well get over it." She glanced at the gate agent and gathered her things. "He's done. You ready?"

Then a thought occurred to me and I hurried after her. "Wait. Are you saying Hank is alive?"

"Oracle," the agent greeted her, making a respectful bow. She nodded serenely and took the small disposable earplugs he offered her. "Please proceed through the sphere without stopping. May your journey be safe and prosperous."

Alessandra was honored; I would never be, even though I was law enforcement, even though I put my a.s.s on the line for the beings of all three worlds.

Prosperous, my a.s.s.

The gate agent tossed a pair of earplugs onto the counter. I grabbed the small plastic bag and returned his glare before catching up to Sandra. "d.a.m.n it, Sandra, wait."

She finally stopped at the steps, her head tilting up as she stared at the sphere hovering less than an inch above the copper alloy platform. It dwarfed her, making her look so small, like a child. The giant ball of pink and orange energy swirled and changed like a shifting sea of colors, and the drone coming from it pulsed through my entire body. As awe-inspiring as it was, it didn't hold my attention long.

"Did you see him? Did you see Hank in one of your visions? Sandra." I grabbed her arm, tugging it so she'd look at me. "Do you know where he is? Just tell me; I can move quicker by myself and-"

"No, Charlie, I must go. And as for your siren . . . I don't know."

"You know everything. What do you mean, you don't know?"

There was that look again, the flash of fear, and it made me cold. "I can't see the future. Yours. Hank's." Tears p.r.i.c.ked her eyes. "I can't see any of it." Alessandra fled up the steps and disappeared into the sphere.

I picked my jaw off the floor, inserted the earplugs, grabbed my stuff, and hurried after her.

5.

I'd pa.s.sed through a sphere before. I knew to keep walking. I knew not to stop. But Sandra's bombsh.e.l.l left me completely off-kilter and I forgot to prepare myself. The portal's intense energy field hit me like a sledgehammer. I stumbled to a stop.

You're not supposed to stop.

The ends of my hair lifted and the fine hairs on my skin stood straight. The earplugs prevented my eardrums from bursting, but it did nothing to ease the heartbeatlike drone of thick energy pulsating through every molecule of my being, so strong and overwhelming that my teeth clinked together in time.

Keep walking.

Disorientation crept in. I tried to move, to put one foot in front of the other, but I felt so sluggish. The drone encompa.s.sed all until it seemed as though I'd become a part of it, part of the energy, part of- Warm fingers wrapped tightly around my wrist and yanked me forward so hard that my neck snapped back.

The next thing I knew I was tumbling down the steps, coming to a stop flat on my back, blinking up at a high marble ceiling where fuzzy marble sea creatures stretched out and then snapped into sharp focus.

I had arrived. And in style no less.

Deep muttering curses filtered into the ear where the plug had come partway out. I groaned and pulled them both from my ears as my gut rolled sickly.

"Of all the stupid . . . Human. I should've known."

A face moved into my line of sight. A highly annoyed Adonai glared down at me. "I should let you wallow in IDT sickness." But he placed his palm over my forehead and muttered some disgruntled words. Heat spread over my skin. The fuzz began to clear from my mind and the intense nausea in my gut eased.

Most humans experienced a minor level of Inter-Dimensional Travel Sickness, but prolonged exposure in the spheres or taking an illegal form of travel was like having a hangover while still drunk.

A small crowd had formed. Alessandra peered over the agent's shoulder with an expression of relief, amus.e.m.e.nt, and contrition. The gate agent ran his fingers through his hair and let out a heavy sigh, then looked up at the crowd. "And that is why we tell you not to stop in the portal. Never stop in the portal. Ever."

With that lesson delivered, he stood, reached inside of my jacket to get my ID and papers, and then went back to his desk.

Alessandra offered me a slim hand. "Really, Charlie, I thought you knew better."

"I did. Next time save the bombsh.e.l.ls for after we jump worlds." I slid my hand into hers and got to my feet, my bags sliding off my shoulders to remain on the floor. "Ugh. Dizzy."

"Nasty things, those gates." Sandra patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. "I remember the old way of travel," she said wistfully.

"The old way?"

"Preparation, ritual, communing with primal G.o.ds, becoming one with nature . . ."

"Stop, you're making me want to hug a tree."

"Ha ha. The dizziness will go away in a minute. You're lucky you escaped."

I didn't say anything as I dragged my bags to the agent's desk and hefted them onto the counter. He refolded my papers and slid them to the edge. "You're lucky to escape."

"So I hear." I shoved my papers back inside of my jacket. The thing was, I did know better and it embarra.s.sed me to the point that my cheeks got hot. I drew in a deep breath and looked at him. "Thank you."

He stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. "Just doing my job."

"Not something you have to do very often, I'm sure."

He shrugged. "A few times a month, but if it makes you feel any better, never had a repeat from those who've gotten . . . stuck."

"Yeah, definitely a lesson one never forgets."

After he completed a cursory inspection of my bags, he handed my ID back and set me on my way. "Stay out of trouble."

I let out a soft laugh. "Would be a first." Trouble and I had a way of finding each other.

His lips twitched. He shook his head as a couple came through the sphere and his attention went back to work.