Darkest Misery (7 page)

Chapter Ten

The hotel chosen for the meeting was on the opposite side of the city from Shadowtown. For the satyrs and goblins, this made it less convenient, but they'd agreed for the same reason I'd suggested it. We didn't want the furies to know about this meeting. The longer we could hide what we knew from them, the greater the possibility of finding a way to counteract their plans.

It was great in theory, but I couldn't help but think it was also pointless if the Brotherhood had a leak.

Tom and Ingrid hurried us to the hotel, but in spite of the urgency to get us there first, we weren't. Four goblins milled about the conference room. Gunthra, Boston's goblin Dom, was one of them. One of the others I knew by sight but not name. The final two were unknown to me. All four of them wore their own uniform of sorts—fancy suits that made them appear quite at home in the room. Like we'd wandered into a goblin executive meeting.

The goblins turned their large eyes on the Gryphons with suspicion.

“Miss Moore,” Gunthra said, inclining her head the slightest.

Well, didn't I rank highly to get a personal greeting? “Gunthra.”

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room. Tom opened his laptop and began typing. Ingrid, and those who came with her from World, spoke in hushed voices outside the door. And the two strange goblins paced along the far wall. I was about to pull out my phone and ask Lucen where he was when the satyrs arrived.

They brought a surprise too—harpies. Eyff was the harpy Dom, tall and twiggy like all harpies with bright yellow feathers for hair. I didn't know him or one of his companions well, but the third harpy was Lei. She was a master charm maker. Back when I'd been in hiding from the Gryphons, she'd made me a potent glamour to disguise myself.

Ingrid followed the harpies and satyrs into the room, consternation on her face. “I did not realize more would be joining us.”

Dezzi waved a hand in Eyff's direction. “We spoke of what was to be discussed here. This is an issue that affects us all. I thought their input might prove useful.”

“Are we all assembled then?” the tall goblin asked.

I set my phone on the table to check the time. “We're waiting for the magi.”

“Xander will, no doubt, be late,” Tom said. “In my experience, he expects everyone to follow his schedule.”

I smiled to myself, pleased that Tom didn't seem to care for the politically powerful magus any more than I did. “But Olef shouldn't be.”

“They'll probably arrive together. On Xander time.”

But Tom was soon proven wrong. Fifteen minutes later, Xander—along with his two usual thuggish bodyguards—arrived at the meeting. There was no Olef in tow.

“We can start now,” he announced, and everyone glared at him.

“Where's Olef?” I asked.

Xander removed his jacket and didn't answer. Of course not. Xander had disliked me from the moment we met. I would never forget the way he compared my gift to a spider or how he'd told me I had a corrupted soul.

Okay, so ultimately he might have been right about me not being entirely human, but his attitude had been one of disgust and his treatment of me—and humanity in general—had been one of disdain. I'd seen no reason since to forgive or forget.

Perfect example of why? He continued to ignore my question until Tom repeated it. “We need Olef. He was supposed to be gathering research. We won't get very far until he arrives.”

The red and white feathers on Xander's head fluffed in irritation. Magi and harpies were both birdlike, but magi had more variation in their appearance. Falcon shifters, like Xander, sported reddish plumage and a narrow frame. As an owl shifter, Olef had brown and white feathers, and the typical shorter, broader body.

“I don't know where Olef is. He was supposed to come by my office, but he didn't and he's not answering his phone. Knowing him, he's lost in his books, and when he emerges, he'll be most apologetic about being late.” Xander made a show of checking his phone. “My schedule is extremely busy, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get started. I have some serious questions about how this situation is being handled.”

I didn't like the sound of any of that—not the part about Olef, nor Xander's attitude. But the latter was to be expected. It was time to put Xander in his place. He might rub feathery elbows with senators and grace local magazine covers, but here, this was my show. If he didn't like it, he could kiss my spider-gifted ass.

“Let's get started then,” I said loudly, cutting through the satyrs murmuring to my right. “I think we should start with introductions so everyone knows who everyone else is.”

Introductions went smoothly, allowing me to re-familiarize myself with the names of Ingrid's companions. The two unknown goblins turned out to be members of their Upper Council—only they called it a High Council—and I learned Lei was Eyff's lieutenant. Sonya, I realized, wasn't in attendance. Dezzi had only brought Lucen and Devon, and of course Claudius. Claudius, in turn, had brought his addicts. Charming. He at least had the sense to make them wait elsewhere in the hotel once the meeting started.

Usually these sorts of intros went on for a while because everyone wanted to talk about themselves, but this time no one did. Olef still hadn't arrived when we finished, and my gut twisted uneasily. I really needed him here. Unless the preds from their uppity councils were carrying around lots of secret knowledge they were willing to share, Olef was our best resource.

“Until Olef arrives…” I hesitated for a second, letting my thoughts gather, and that was all it took.

I lost control of the meeting.

“I want to know in excruciating detail how this woman could have stumbled upon such a far-reaching and highly unlikely idea,” Xander said.

At the same time, Claudius jumped in. “What sort of proof do we have for any of this? Some magi mumbo-jumbo? The word of a girl with no magical training?”

“Girl? Really?” I threw him a sharp look across the table.

The room erupted in accusations and arguments. Xander wasn't convinced of the seriousness of the problem. The goblins accused the Gryphons of holding out on key information. Claudius was obsessed with my role, and in disbelief that I should be involved in any way. Meanwhile Lucen defended me and tried explaining my past, and as for the Gryphons, they volleyed with the goblins and urged Xander to cooperate.

Only the harpies were mostly silent, but their heads swiveled from speaker to speaker like they were watching a tennis match. Soon enough they too would pick sides, most likely that of the satyrs who they'd historically allied with.

I felt a headache coming on. This was why I needed Olef. He was one of the magi whose visions of me surrounded by burning cities gave credence to the old prophecy. He was the one who could explain everything in a calm, logical manner.

The throbbing in my temples worsened until I smacked my hands against the table and stood. “Enough!”

I yelled so loudly that everyone on this floor of the hotel must have heard me, but it worked. In the momentary shocked silence that followed, I seized the floor again. “We're here to share what we know and discuss strategies. So let's start by reviewing what we know so everyone knows what everyone knows. If you have questions, save them until the end.”

I paused for breath, and Dezzi passed a water bottle my way. “Go on.”

I appreciated the support, regardless of why she might have offered it, but I didn't miss the way Claudius narrowed his eyes at her in disapproval either.

Taking a deep breath, I sat. “So, since the last time some of us met, a few facts have been confirmed. Every couple hundred years, a magi has had a vision of cities burning. Olef is the most recent magi to have done so, and he's recognized me in his vision. Enough of these visions have occurred that the magi call them a prophecy, and as of today, two cities have burned in magical fires caused by nonhuman riots—Buenos Aires and Sydney. Boston was almost a third.”

“Parts of Boston did burn.” Xander stared at me accusingly, as though what the furies had done were my fault. “Millions of dollars in damages. Lives lost. Are you forgetting that?”

My hands balled into fists, but Lucen responded before I could. “No, but it could have been a lot worse if Jess hadn't stopped the furies.”

I let out a breath, imperceptibly I hoped, although the preds would all be well aware of my frayed temper. “Yes, what happened in Boston is a tragedy, but it never reached the scale of Buenos Aires or Sydney. Moving on. The Gryphons took the prophecy seriously, and they created me, and four others like me, with rather unique satyr-like powers in response.”

Claudius snorted at the satyr-like part.

Temper, down.

More deep breaths. “There are two of us left.”

“Three,” Tom said.

“Oh? You've found Mitch?”

He frowned. “Not yet.”

“Then I stand by the two.” I took a sip from the water bottle, wishing fervently that it contained coffee. Preferably coffee spiked with whiskey. “I'm assuming everyone here knows the Vessels of Making were basically containers used to channel power into creating a magical prison called the Pit. According to lore, there were five Vessels used in making the Pit, and the Gryphons recently confirmed that the lore also states all five would be needed to open it.”

Ulan's ears twitched. He was the tall High Council goblin, and he glanced between me and Gunthra. “The theory, as I understand it, is that you believe the furies are destroying these cities in order to channel enough of their brand of power to fill the Vessels.”

“Yes.”

Ulan made a noise that sounded like “Hmph.” I couldn't tell if he didn't approve of Gunthra talking to me, the theory or if he just didn't like the sound of this.

No one should like it. According to Olef, the creatures that had been locked in the Pit weren't even as human-friendly as modern furies, and modern furies were probably the least friendly of all the pred races. The descriptions I'd read of the originals in Tom's history books made them sound like demons straight out of a horror movie.

“This is all very speculative,” Xander said, waving a four-fingered hand dismissively. “I don't discount Olef's vision, but I'd like to see some proof that these visions are related to the Vessels.”

Gunthra's ears flattened. “One of my people saw the object, felt its power. It matches the description of the Vessels.”

“I'm hardly about to trust the word of a goblin any more than I would trust her word.” He motioned to me.

Peachy.

“So long as we're voicing our concerns,” Claudius said, “I'm not sure I trust a magi's hallucination. But even if it is true, what are we supposed to do about it?”

“Find the rest of the Vessels before the furies do.” Ingrid's tone was remarkably controlled under the circumstances. “Exactly what we spoke to you about earlier.”

“A lot of work based on sketchy speculation.” Xander jumped up, the feathers on his head rising with him. “And what if the furies already have the others?”

Tom smacked his hand against the table. “That's what we need to find out, ASAP. The sooner we stop bickering, the sooner we can make progress.”

“And assuming all this is true,” said Eyff, speaking for the first time, “where do we find these missing Vessels?”

“They can't.” Xander raised his arms in defeat.

Tom sighed. “The Vessels have been lost for over a thousand years. The lore suggests each group involved in creating the prison took one with them, ensuring they would never be reunited. We don't know how the furies might have gotten their hands on the one or two they did.”

“It seems unlikely they did then.” Claudius's face was strained, and as I had last night at dinner, I felt a stirring of something in me that wasn't my own. I wasn't even sure what it was. Not lust, and not anxiety exactly, but something that made me suspect Claudius might know more than he was letting on. Interesting.

Lucen had said Claudius controlled whether he inflicted his emotions on others, and maybe that was usually true. With pureblooded humans. But I was something else, and pred power affected me differently sometimes. In his agitation, could Claudius's control have slipped? Was I feeling an emotion I wasn't meant to feel?

Or was I the one having emotional hallucinations? Goodness knew I was stressed enough for such a thing.

Lucen tapped his fingers on the table. “Then there's the mystery of the furies' interest in Jess.”

I groaned. Here came more inexplicable weirdness to be met by everyone's disbelief.

“What interest?” Xander yanked out his chair and sat back down, looking pissed off.

“One of the furies, the local lieutenant, said he didn't want me getting hurt. He's protected me on more than one occasion.”

The magi crossed his arms. “And you don't know why, naturally.”

“I was hoping we could discuss theories.”

“Frankly, all we have here are theories supported by only the flimsiest of evidence. Without Olef, I'm not sure what there is to discuss.”

The shorter of the High Council goblins finally broke his silence. “I hate to concur with the magi, but he's right.”

Gunthra paled. “I trust what my informant saw.”

“I'm not doubting your informant,” the goblin said. “Just the rest of this information.”

Devon leaned around Lucen toward me. “Are we having fun yet?”

I closed my eyes and silently swore, trusting Devon would gather the gist.

Him, and everyone else, making me long for an entire bottle of Jameson's to drown out their noise.

And what noise it was. The arguing continued, much of it surrounding me and my role in everything. I wasn't the only one starting to tune it out either. Tom's phone buzzed, and he got up to take the call.