But though it was tied to clay with kabbalistic magic powered by the spiritual energy I’d given him, this manitou belonged here, in Josefov. Those weren’t the technical terms, I was sure. But I wasn’t a mage, and I was running on instinct.
The rabbi’s problem was that he’d tried to stop it by killing something that wasn’t killable. He’d managed to render it almost dead and to separate it from the physical body that allowed it power.
I couldn’t kill it. Couldn’t even fight it because I was locked in a cage. Couldn’t free it—
I closed my eyes and stretched with my senses, the ones I’d used to contact Stefan, to find my pack and Adam through our bonds, but this time I directed my attention toward the golem.
He ripped at the bottom stair, and it gave with a squeak of nails and cracking wood.
I couldn’t do anything with the spellcrafting that held the golem together. But the energy, the magic he’d stolen from the dead . . . that was mine.
I opened myself up—and found Adam. As if he were in the same room with me, I found Adam. He always had my back when I needed him.
There was no time to ask for permission, no time to try to communicate anything because the golem had grabbed someone and pulled them out from under the stairs. I couldn’t tell who it was because the golem’s body was blocking my view.
I centered myself, pulled on the connection between Adam and me, and spoke one word. “Sunder.”
I hadn’t meant to say that. “Sunder” means to divide, to part, to separate—I’d meant to try to do what the rabbi had done. I’d planned on saying, “Die.” I’d hoped that with that command, I could force the golem back into the limbo I’d brought it out from. But someone who sounded suspiciously like Coyote whispered that word in my ear as I opened my mouth.
I could not touch the manitou with my magic because it was not dead. I could not touch the kabbalistic spells because that was not my gift. But Kocourek had named me death walker, and the dead obeyed me, no matter how much I tried to ignore that. And it was the power of the dead that held the golem together.
My power, the power over the dead, driven by the energy I borrowed from Adam and focused by the single word I’d used, washed through the golem. He staggered, dropped his prey, then turned toward me. He took two quick steps and brought his fist down on the cage.
I think we were both surprised when his fist bounced off. It made sense because the cage had been built with steel, silver, and magic. It had been built to hold werewolves. But I was still surprised he hadn’t killed me with a single blow.
I reached for Adam a second time, and this time he gave me . . . everything. The first time I’d tried this, he’d had no warning, and I had just taken what I could. This time he pushed power at me. I could feel his authority, built by the belief of the pack that he was the one who could keep them safe, as it settled over me. Belief is the most powerful magic of all. He gave me that, trusted me with it.
The golem was still waiting for the cage to collapse under his fist, his face not a foot from mine. His fist still on the top of the cage. I reached up and touched his clay flesh with a finger through the mesh. Then I used everything I had, everything I was, and everything Adam had given me when I repeated the word.
“Sunder.”
I felt the word hang in the air for a moment; it was like waiting for the rumble of thunder after the flash of lightning. Then the magic of that long-ago rabbi shuddered under the weight of the command. The newer spells the golem had woven himself gave way as the power of the dead tore them to shreds, leaving chaos behind.
I’m a mechanic; I fix things that are broken. I turn into a thirty-five-pound coyote. I have powerful friends. But when it comes right down to it, my real superpower is chaos.
The golem’s clay body fell to the ground and shattered as though it had been dropped from a hundred feet onto rocks. Clay shards bounced off the mesh of my cage, mostly harmlessly. One or two got through but only one caused me any damage. And for a very long moment, the reek of the mess that Mary had made of her seethe gave way to the smell of springwater, the kind that bubbles up clear and pure from the earth. And then it was gone, and the whole place smelled of the dead.
14
Mercy
It was hard to look like I’d won when I was still stuck in the stupid cage.
MINUTES PASSED. I GOT A GOOD LOOK AT THE PERSON the golem had pulled out from the stairway. He was the middle-aged man who had led the other humans. I was still trapped in my cage. Galina tried to help, but her abilities to interact with the real world were limited to rolling heads around.
I tried to contact Adam, but my bond had fallen silent again: there but not there. As if I’d overloaded it.
The man moaned a lot. At one point, he started to crawl. I don’t know where he was going, but he didn’t get there. And there was nothing, not anything I could do about him. Nor could I do anything about the sunlight that entered through the broken corner and from the open door at the top of the stairs. I watched, helpless, as it crept closer and closer to the dead who waited under the stairway.
—
THE WEREWOLVES CAME JUST AFTER NOON. ADAM didn’t bother with the broken stairs; he just jumped over the handrail at the top. He stepped over the rapidly rotting body of the man the golem had killed.
His bright gold eyes on me, he took a step toward my cage and stopped with a grunt. I felt the magic flare up as it had not for the vampires, the ghosts, or the golem. Galina petted his shoulder and looked concerned for him. He took a half step back, then he squatted so his head was level with mine.
He didn’t say anything, just stared at me with those gold eyes, his hands clenched into fists.
If I had been free, I’d have climbed into his lap and buried my face in his shoulder and cried. It was probably better for my dignity that I couldn’t do that. I reached out and put my hand against the cage where it was closest to him.
“I think Coyote sent me here,” I told him. My voice was hoarse from the power I’d used to destroy the golem. “To fix things or make me crazy—it’s a toss-up.” I was almost certain that the reason I’d chosen “sunder” instead of “die” was because of Coyote. “I hope he’s happy. I think I’ve ensured that all of the vampires in Prague are dead. Except for the four people under the stairs.” Suddenly anxious for them, I leaned forward. “They are the good guys, I think. So make sure no one shines any sunlight on them, okay?”
He didn’t say anything for a while, just put a hand up toward me and then pulled it back with a grimace.
“Who hit you?” he asked, his voice in that deep place it went when the wolf was riding him. He didn’t say anything about the vampires, but I could trust him to take care of it.
Had someone hit me? I frowned at him, and he ran his hand down the left side of his face. I’d forgotten about that.
“Guccio,” I told him. “The pretty vampire. I think he’s been disposed of, though. That’s what the vampires under the stairs said. It meant they could quit following orders.”
“Guccio’s dead,” Adam agreed, so apparently he knew who Guccio was. “I killed him.” His tone was satisfied, so I expected there was a story that went with that. There would be a lot of time for stories.
“It took you a long time to find me,” I said. And it had. It had been hours since the golem had died—since the manitou who powered it had been freed at last to go and be what he was supposed to be and not what Rabbi Loew had turned him into. But my stomach was easing, and my body was starting to believe I was safe. Hearing Adam’s voice, velvety soft, was better than medicine for what ailed me.
“Your power draw knocked me off my feet,” Adam said. “I was out for an hour. No one could do anything until I was conscious, and it took a while for the bond to start functioning well enough I could use it to track you.”
“Sorry,” I said in a small voice.
“My love,” he said, his voice intent, “you are welcome to all that I am, all that I have. I would destroy the planet for you. I was even diplomatic for you, which was a bigger sacrifice. A little power drain is nothing.”
“An hour,” I said. He was a werewolf, and I’d knocked him out for an hour. “You could have died.”
“You could have died,” he said intensely. “What would I have done then?”
He took a deep breath. When he spoke again, it was in his own voice despite the gold in his eyes. “You are welcome to anything I have, my love. Martin and Jitka got us to Josefov, but only after I took them to the park did they remember they’d lost you here. It took Elizaveta the rest of the time to get through the veil spells without pulling them down entirely. She . . . Libor . . .” He grimaced again. “We all thought it might be a good thing to see what was inside the invisible wall before we exposed it to the good people of Prague—especially since there were vampires involved. But it took time.”
“They might want to leave it up awhile longer than they are planning,” I told him. “I think there are a lot of dead bodies here. Sixty years’ worth or more.”
He sat all the way on the ground. There were fine lines around his eyes and shadows that told me he was nearly as tired as I felt. People had started to filter down the stairs, werewolf people, presumably belonging to Libor.
Adam told them about the vampires under the stairs and requested, politely, that someone tell Elizaveta that he needed her.
“The cage is designed to subdue werewolves,” I told him. “I’m not being hurt.”
“When Elizaveta has a moment to spare will be soon enough,” Adam told the wolf who’d started up the stairs.
“So you think Coyote sent you here?” Adam asked me. “Marsilia is pretty convinced it was a giant plot by Bonarata to get us to take care of all of his problems for him. He’s not unhappy to take the credit.”
“Marsilia?” I folded my legs more comfortably and leaned my forehead against the cage. I listened to Adam explain what had happened after they’d found the wrecked car and why he’d brought the people he’d brought.
“Larry?” I said. “Seriously? The king of the goblins is Larry?”
“Someone call my name?” A goblin bounded down the stairs, knelt by Adam, and handed him a bottle of water. He grinned at me, and I saw that there were a few too many teeth in his mouth. “I know,” he said to me. “What were my parents thinking? Larry. Even worse, though, is that my full name is Lawrence—which makes me sound like a proper wimp.” He had kind eyes. “We’re pretty glad to find you more or less in one piece, princess.”
“Not as happy as I am,” I assured him, and he laughed.
He turned to Adam. “I’d hoped I might help. But this is witchcraft. I expect Elizaveta can take care of it as soon as she gets done with the wards she’s laying to keep out the innocents. She says it will take her a while because something destroyed the ones the previous witch built.”
“It was the golem,” I told them. “And the witch is dead.” I looked at Larry’s shoes. “You’ve been wading through her. She was in love with Guccio, and he was in love with her power.”
“Dead vampire dust,” said Larry thoughtfully.
“Dead vampire witch dust,” I said.
“I think we’ll find that she belonged to Bonarata originally,” Adam told me. “He had a witch go missing a while back.”
Larry got up and went somewhere. I wished that I could drink some of Adam’s water. Food would be nice, too.
“Was the cage dented when they put you in it?” Adam asked me.
I shook my head. “That was the golem when it tried to kill me.”
Adam sat up straighter, and his eyes, which had just gotten back to the dark chocolate color that was more usual for him, brightened again.
“I killed the Golem of Prague—for real this time,” I told him. “After I used him to kill all the vampires. I don’t know how many he killed. Lots, I think. Mary figured out how to mass-produce vampires, though I gather they had quite an expiration date. The problem was he didn’t want to stop with the vampires. Your help was the only reason all of the people in the Jewish Quarter aren’t dead.”
He looked around the basement. I saw him take in the scattered shards of pottery. He clenched his fists, then released them.
“It was my fault everyone died,” I told him. “If I could have figured out a way to kill just Mary, I think Kocourek could have controlled everyone else.” But all of those vampires would have known that Mary could make vampires in a couple of weeks instead of years. Stories would have been told. Someone would try it again. Kocourek understood what was at risk. He’d keep quiet—and he’d keep the others who survived quiet.
But so many people, and they were people to me whether they were vampires or ghosts . . . all gone because of me.
Adam looked at my face and deliberately let his anger of a moment ago drift away. He pursed his lips. “You beat us. We only killed two people. Lenka—Bonarata’s werewolf—was the first one. He was losing control of her and used us to execute her for him.” He sounded sad, then his voice hardened. “Guccio was the second. If I’d known he hit you, I’d have taken longer.”
It was my turn to nod. I was so tired.
Even more people were tramping up and down the stairs, which, despite the damage the golem had done to them, were still working just fine. A werewolf in slacks and a white shirt and a tie lifted Elizaveta Arkadyevna over the wreckage of the bottom step.
I was very, very tired. And Adam was here. I was safe. I let my eyes close. Then I whispered, very quietly, “Is that Bran? Or am I hallucinating?”
Adam smiled at me; I heard it in his voice. “Of course not. What would he be doing here? It’s Matt Smith, our copilot and submissive wolf.”
“Matt Smith is the Doctor,” I informed him, then fell asleep with a smile on my face as Elizaveta started to unlock the magic on my cage.
—
I DREAMED I WAS SITTING BESIDE A FRESHWATER spring that bubbled up in a small garden. It was surrounded by stone walls and medieval-style doors that led into the buildings that enclosed the garden.
Except for the spring, it reminded me of the garden with the friendly mastiff. This garden didn’t have a dog, though, only me, Galina—who looked as real as I did—and Coyote.
“It’s happy,” said Galina thoughtfully, leaning forward to touch the water with her hand.
“Yes,” agreed Coyote.
“I wish I was happy like that,” she told him wistfully.
“Do you?” he asked. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “Why don’t you come for a walk with me?”
Galina touched my shoulder. “I can’t leave Mercy alone. She saved me from the golem.”
He smiled at her. “Did she?” Was there a bite in his voice? If there was, it wasn’t directed at Galina. “She’ll be fine here for a moment.”
“Go,” I told her. “You’ve done enough for me. I’m safe now.”
“Okay,” she said. She stood up and took Coyote’s hand when he held it out to her.
I didn’t watch where he took her. It was a private moment. Her private moment.
“Will she be okay?” I asked in a small voice when Coyote returned without her a long while later.
“Right as rain,” he told me. “She’s where she should have been now. Unstuck. I don’t know why people get stuck like that.”
“You sent me to Prague to free the spirit of this spring,” I told him.
“I sent your brother to Prague to free the spirit of this spring,” he told me. “Blame him for not getting the job done. I am impressed, though. I didn’t expect you to resurrect the whole golem. Do you know what could have happened if you hadn’t stopped it?” he asked. Then he threw himself backward on the ground, plucked a blade of grass, and stuck it between his white teet
h. “It would have been glorious.”
I woke up as Elizaveta broke the magic that surrounded the cage. Adam oh-so-gently moved her aside, then ripped the door off. His arms closed around me, so tight I could barely breathe.
Coyote’s voice spoke in my ear. “Tell him to find you some clothes before you catch your death.”
I ignored him.
—
A FULL TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER, I WOKE UP NAKED in sheets that felt like silk and with the smell of my mate all around me. I sat up and rubbed my face, careful of the cheek that was sore. The shower was running.
Libor had offered sleeping space in his bakery, but we’d gone to a hotel. Adam had wanted me alone, and I wasn’t arguing.
For the first time in forever, I wasn’t exhausted and alone.
I walked naked into the bathroom. The shower was clear glass, and Adam had his back to me. I leaned against the doorframe and smiled.
“You going to watch my butt all day, or are you going to join me?” asked my mate.
“What if I had said I was going to watch your butt all day?” I asked curiously as I opened the door and stepped into the hot water.
“I’ve been considering belly-dancing lessons,” he told me in a serious voice. His arms were tight around me, and he pulled me hard into him. “It would have given you something to watch. But I’m not sure if I could hold my head up around other Alpha werewolves if I did.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, the cells of my body both soothed and energized by the touch of his skin. “I know how much you worry about what other Alpha werewolves might think of you.”
We made love under the water. He kissed my bruises and I kissed the healing slice over his shoulder. We said the kinds of things that wouldn’t make any sense to anyone else. And when he was buried inside of me, his breath rough and his skin hot, that’s when I knew I was home.
—
WE FLEW OUT OF PRAGUE THREE DAYS LATER. IT GAVE us time to do the diplomacy things that Adam pretends he isn’t any good at. Bran stayed on the plane. With me safe, he didn’t want to risk anyone’s knowing he was there, because that would invite all sorts of random attacks of opportunity (Adam’s words). Libor knew but had, for his own reasons, decided to keep his own counsel. I found out later that Bran had coerced Zack into calling Libor to request that his father take good care of me. I also found out that Adam had done the same thing—all of this before Libor had met me in the garden and made me bargain with him. Coyote would like Libor.