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She must have been upstairs, because she’d changed into dry clothes, a black T-shirt and jeans, and she had a small suitcase at her side. She was struggling to get Aiden into a rain poncho when I came in the door. But he wasn’t having it, fat little hands batting it away as she tried to push it down over his curls.
“What are you doing?”
She looked up, guilt and resolution in about equal measures on her face. “Getting out of here before I get you killed.”
“And get yourself killed instead?” I asked, grabbing the suitcase.
She grabbed it back. “I’m hard to kill!”
“So am I!”
She shook her head. “You didn’t see yourself down there. You didn’t—I won’t be responsible for that!”
“I’m a big girl, Claire. I’m responsible for myself.”
I d
on’t think she even heard me. “This whole thing… None of this was meant to happen,” she told me wildly.
“I’d planned it all out—I was supposed to have a couple of days before everything went to hell. And then Lukka died and then—”
“Life rarely cares about our plans,” I told her cynically. In fact, it had always seemed to delight in screwing up mine.
“Life can suck it!” She started for the door, dragging Aiden after her, still caught in his plastic prison.
I got my back against the door, which was stupid. Claire could move me—along with what remained of the wall—if she felt like it. But she’d seemed kind of upset at the thought of me dying, so I was trusting her not to squash me like a bug.
“So what’s the plan now? Run off into a night filled with known enemies?”
Claire gave me a frantic, frustrated look, and pushed bushy red hair out of her face. All the moisture in the air had turned it back into a huge fuzz ball. “I’m not stupid, Dory. They expended a lot of power on that storm, and more making those damned things. They’re exhausted. It’s why I have to leave now.”
She started to push past, but I didn’t budge. “They seemed to be doing fine until a few minutes ago. And if those things re-form and you’re gone, it’ll leave the rest of us defenseless.”
Claire shot me a look that said she knew exactly what I was doing, and it wasn’t going to work. “They can’t re-form, at least not right away. Iron only disrupts the field, costs them time while they rebuild it. I didn’t do that. I drained away the power they need to make the creatures to begin with.”
“So once it’s gone, it’s gone?”
She nodded. “At least until they rest up. And considering how much energy creating that storm must have used, that will take a while.”
“Assumingsubrand used everyone in the attack, which we don’t know,” I pointed out. “He could have left a few of his people out, hoping you’d panic—”
“I’m not panicking!”
“—and run, making their job easy.”
“To do that, he’d have had to assume that his initial assault would fail,” she said impatiently. “Andsubrand is far too arrogant for that.”
I couldn’t really argue that one, so I changed tactics. “So you run. Then what?”
“I have a lot of contacts in the auction business,” she told me, her color high. “If the rune is up for sale, someone has to know about it. I have to find out who has it before it ends up in a private collection somewhere and disappears.”
“Fair enough. But you can’t do that with the heir to the throne of Faerie on your hip.”
“The fey don’t know this world—”
“But plenty of other people do! And nothing is easier than hiring a bunch of mercenaries.” I should know; I was one.
She blinked, as if that had never even occurred to her. “I don’t think… I don’t think they’d do that. The fey handle their own problems.” But she didn’t look sure.
