Feet of Clay: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Clans of Shadow Book 2) Page 13

  She pursed her lips as she pushed her plate away, making room to lean her elbows on the table. “Most of it wasn’t really important, Frank, and honestly some of it is a bit personal. You know, the kind of personal I’m not at liberty to go into.”

  “If it involves me, I kinda have a right to know.” I jutted my chin at her.

  “It’s really nothing. All I can really say in regards to Molly is you’re a grown man and a bit older than her.” She quirked her head. “You’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s going on. You need to decide how to handle it when the time’s right.”

  I frowned and rubbed my chin. The stubble was getting wild down there. “Yeah, yeah, I figured it’d be something like that.” If the thing I thought was growing between Gabby and me was still going the way I thought it was, I’d have to figure out a good way to let Molly down gently while still giving her the moral support she needed to deal with her new life choices. I was a soldier too. I was the best person to help her through this.

  She crossed her arms in front of her and gave me a serious look. “It might help if we hash some things out then. If I’m reading things properly… correct me if I’m wrong here … we’re definitely connecting on some level, right?”

  If I hadn’t been momentarily stunned, long enough to marshal my conscious mind to say rational things, I would have bounced to my feet and screamed a mighty “WOOHOO.” Maybe I would have thrown in a little victory dance to add on to the childlike giddiness I was feeling? Who knows, but I was certainly thinking it.

  Fortunately, my brain got a hold of things by the time my daze cleared up. There are times where I wished people would be direct about things, especially feelings. Yeah, I know these can be delicate topics but still, it’d save a lot of rigamarole in the long run. It would, however, make pretty much every romance ever go a lot shorter. “Yeah, but can we cut through to the heart of the matter?”

  Gabby let out a short, musical laugh. “That’s a good idea. We’re not teenagers, are we?” She nodded. “Look, I like you, Frank. Maybe more than like you.” She raised a finger as I was opening my mouth. “I’m only even putting a qualifier on that because, well, it still hasn’t been that long since John’s death. Rebound relationships do happen, and they can turn a friendship into a disaster.”

  Well, that was direct enough for me. “Well, I can understand that. I mean, I’m not an asshole … well, not that much of an asshole … but I’m going to take it you think this might not be a rebound thing?” Hey, I’d take a possibility over being totally shut down. Considering where I’d started from (no chance in Hell), this was a vast improvement.

  She smiled and the room got a few degrees warmer. “Oh, I’m actually pretty sure it isn’t.” The smile started to fade. “But I need a little time to work it out, and before I think I can do that, I need to get Max back. You know how important he is to me. I can’t trust my emotions until he’s safe.”

  I’d be lying if a little part of me thought that it was a convenient dodge or a way to politely let me down, but the rest of me knew that wasn’t true. We had been through too much together and maybe I was just being a sucker, but I felt that she was being totally honest with me. I put my arm on the table closer to her. “You know I know. You also know I’m in it to win it.” Cue cocky, reassuring smile. “We’ll get him back. You know we will.”

  She matched my smile with her own and reached out to meet me halfway. “I know. Then we’ll sort everything else out. No pressure, right?” I turned my forearm and we locked hands. Our fingers locked together like they were made to do so. Yeah, sappy, but it was true all the same.

  “Heh, no pressure at all.” We were both beaming like idiots and that moment could have lasted forever.

  It obviously didn’t. This wasn’t actually a romantic drama, as much as we might have wanted it to be. Tyrone butted his stupid face in. He didn’t even have the common courtesy to knock before throwing the door open. He seemed even grumpier than he had been when he woke me up. “The director needs you two. You’ve got visitors.”

  “Who in the Infinite Void would be visiting us here?” Gabriela asked, pulling away from me. I groaned loudly. Of course.

  “Well, one of ‘em is Abner, that clay piece of shit,” he growled. I decided not to correct him on his error in insults. You can’t clearly label something as made of clay then insinuate they are instead made of shit. “I don’t know the little man with him, but the director had me send them straight up to her and come get you two.”

  I nodded to Gabriela who returned the gesture. We were on the same page. We were about to meet the golem’s mysterious creator. Maybe we’d finally get some answers as to what the holy fuck they were doing with all these betrayals and cloak-and-dagger crap. Maybe it would even help us get Max back, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath.

  19

  Maybe you’ve got a picture in your mind of what the mighty sorcerer and rabbi who could sculpt life from inert clay, drawing a soul straight from God, must look like. I’d bet you dollars to doughnuts you’d be wrong. I mean, I was a bit off myself and I had spent more than a few summers of my youth seeing and learning about the Hebrew faith, so I wouldn’t blame you for being wrong.

  The guy was short, barely five feet tall, and I almost thought he was a dwarf or some other Lord of the Rings immigrant for a moment. He was built in the approximate shape of a barrel with broad shoulders and the kind of gut you find on a powerlifter.

  For all that, his face, though matching his turret-like head, was youthful and clean-shaven, with a large nose and bright, clear grey eyes. He couldn’t be more than twenty-five if that. It probably goes without saying, but he wore a yarmulke on his head, atop his curly red hair, and a prayer shawl around his shoulders.

  He stood front and center in the Marlowe’s office, dominating it despite his short stature. Abner was close at hand, looking more like a dutiful son than the arrogant mudman I’d come to know. The gouges and tears the golem had suffered during our escape had been repaired, and he had exchanged the White’s robes for a simple brown smock that looked like something straight out of Ben-Hur.

  Tabitha looked even more worried than before. Evidently, she didn’t trust the mudman and his creator farther than she could throw them. “Good, now that you’re here, maybe the rabbi will be a bit more forthcoming as to why he has decided to drop by alongside his traitorous creation.”

  The pair turned toward us as I nodded. “Trust me, Tabby, he’s stabbed us as many times as you.” I smiled at the rabbi. “No offense intended, sir.”

  There weren’t a lot of people I’d defer respect to without cause. Pretty much the elderly (until they stuck their own feet in their mouth) and priest types. It wasn’t that I was too religious myself (though I had better get started now that God was a Real Thing TM). Rather, it’s how Mom raised us.

  Gabriela was understandably a bit more guarded. “I would normally say it’s a pleasure, but considering how Abner’s actions have put my son in danger multiple times now …”

  Though the rabbi’s eyes remained bright, his expression was solemn. “And for that you have my deepest apologies, Dr. Perez.” He glanced sidelong (and way up) at Abner. “My son here is young yet, which coming out of these lips is saying something, and he’s been forced to improvise a few times.” He shrugged. “Some of those improvisations have been mistakes, while others have saved lives. I hope you can see past them, like you would the transgressions of any youngster who is sorry for his actions.”

  Clayface acted as if on cue. “Yes, my choices and actions have not always been the wisest and, at times, have caused all in this room harm. Though my intentions have been in accordance to my creator’s desires, it does not excuse that harm.”

  I scratched the back of my head. I can’t say I ever expected to see Abner being this, well, nice. “Well, what can you say to that except apology accepted? Especially as we have bigger problems to deal with other than hurt feelings.” As I said that, I glanced between the two la
dies in the room. Trust me, I totally understood why they both had their fair share of concerns and grudges. I sure as hell did. We just didn’t have time for it.

  Gabby’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “We really don’t have a choice, do we?” Tabitha kept her own counsel and folded her hands on the desk in front of her.

  The rabbi let out a sigh. “This, unfortunately, is very true, Mr. Butcher.” He glanced around. “We can spare a moment for a little politeness, though. At least enough to introduce myself?”

  No one objected. All eyes were on him while Abner shrunk back out of the way. “Right then, I am Rabbi Joseph Krakowski, and as you know, I was the one who gave our mutual friend life. Oh, and by your reckoning, I am a wizard of some prowess.”

  Tabitha finally broke her silence with a pointed question. “What clan are you a part of? I am quite certain you’re not an Ender, and I don’t quite think you’re one of the White either. That puts you in a very strange position.”

  Joseph let out a merry laugh. “My friend, you and your counterparts have spent so many centuries circling around each other, thinking your business was the sole business of the mystical world. As you have noted, I’m neither Ender or White and see no reason to be either.” He put a finger to his nose like a dwarven Santa Claus, right down to the twinkle in his eyes. “There are many more cults and clans and covens and debate clubs out there than you’d imagine.”

  I could see the shock in Tabitha’s eyes. That, combined with Gabriela’s body language told me all I needed to without looking her in the face. For me, well, it made a lot of sense, but I sure as hell still had questions. “Well, that’s fine and dandy, sir, but why are you screwing around in this if you don’t have a dog in the fight?”

  “Please, Frank, don’t call me ‘sir.’ My father, sure, but not me.” The rabbi’s charm was disarming; that was the only certainty right now. “I think you could answer that question easily though. After all, why are you involved in this? Because what the Whites and the Enders have been up to endangers the entire world. Part of their clans or no, we are all forced to deal with the consequences.”

  What I had to say then wasn’t appropriate, but I couldn’t help myself. “There! See, see, didn’t I say that or, well, some approximation of that?” I puffed up because it was always refreshing to be right, especially with my dubious track record.

  Gabriela put a hand on my shoulder. “Okay, Frank, yes, you were right but follow your own advice and let it go for now. We have to focus.” I gave her a mock dejected look which she answered with a smirk.

  Tabitha didn’t take it so graciously, rolling her eyes as she let out a disgusted sigh, but she got back on track quickly. “While I am intensely curious about your actual allegiances, Rabbi Krakowski, I agree on the need for focus. You must be here for more than apologies and base explanations.”

  “Of course,” Joseph nodded graciously and stepped toward the desk. The biggest surprise of this entire thing was how quiet and “background-like” Abner was being. I’d half expected him to punch me in the face for messing with the transporter. “Despite all our efforts, Gabriela’s son is in Elder Lambert’s greedy little hands, which leaves only one thing remaining before he can finish his foolish ritual.”

  “Yeah, Tabby mentioned having something they needed.” I followed the rabbi forward, curious to see where this would go. He was talking more sense than anyone I’d met so far in the magical world, even more sense than the doc.

  “It’s a bit more involved than that, but we’ll deal with the specifics momentarily.” The edge of Tabitha’s desk was chest-high to Joseph as he walked up to it and stared at the glass cube sitting there. “May I explain, Director, or would you like to do the honors?”

  Marlowe snatched up the cube as the rabbi began to reach up over the desk. “Allow me.” She arched a thin eyebrow. “Honestly, I don’t know you or trust you … not yet.”

  “Fair enough and a wise precaution.” Joseph crossed his arms across his broad chest, still smiling.

  Gabriela moved up on one side of the rabbi and I took the other. I glanced through the heart, focusing on the cube guardedly held in Marlowe’s fingers. I was about to make a quip about MacGuffins and Tesseracts, but the words were caught in my throat. That cube wasn’t there, at least not in the mystical weave that made up the world. In that way, it was just like me; neither of us could be seen in the golden eyes of la Corazon.

  “Let’s start with the core difference between what the White ritual is working toward and what our own ritual sought to accomplish and that’s creation versus destruction.” I hadn’t known exactly where the friendship between Gabriela and Tabitha had formed, but as Tabby dropped into that academic mien that Gabby often did, I certainly had a good guess. “To create something, in this case massive amounts of magical energy, requires far more power and effort than it takes to destroy a similar thing. That’s why our ritual was ready sooner than the Whites.” She paused as though she expected me to interrupt her. I didn’t.

  “It is also why Lambert requires elements and foci that we didn’t. Max’s unique nature is one of the things both rituals share, though I didn’t know it at the time. I truly didn’t.”

  Gabriela had been looking at me, probably wondering why I had suddenly shut my trap, but she glanced over at Tabitha. “I believe you. We went over this three times yesterday, didn’t we?”

  Tabitha shook her head. “And I can’t say it enough times.” She turned the cube over in her thin fingers. “But back on track. As I said, there is something critical the White needs, something of great, extra-dimensional power.”

  I managed to shake off my surprise. “Wait, extra-dimensional? Like from a place like Structured?”

  Gabriela nodded. “Exactly, Frank. It really makes sense. Only an immensely powerful spirit or elder thing could provide enough energy and, thankfully, they all inhabit other planes of existence.”

  Tabitha smiled grimly. “Yes, they have a tendency toward being territorial. Even those that were once pantheons of gods worshiped by man in the past find it hard to be in each other’s presence for too long. When gods argue, they do horrible things to the worlds around them.”

  Clearing his throat, Joseph spoke up. “You can see where my own area of expertise could be handy in this.” He gestured to the glass cube. “When it comes to the works of ‘gods,’ Yahweh is above them all. His way is what I know best and am supremely qualified to understand the Yulatha Stone.” He glanced at Tabitha for a split second before settling his eyes back on the cube. “Even if it is not a work of Yahweh but a … well, you understand.”

  “Yulatha? Tabitha, that can’t be …” Gabby sounded spooked, something I had never seen. I mean like really scared, not worried or concerned or on edge, but edge of her seat hysterical.

  “It is exactly what this is, Gabriela.” She settled the cube back on the table. “We don’t quite understand the exact connection the Stone has to the Great Old Ones, but it is quite real, I assure you.”

  “Wait,” I raised my hands. “I don’t know what the hell Yulatha is, but I do know what Great Old Ones are.” I had seen every Lovecraftian film out there, even though most didn’t live up to the actual Cthulu Mythos (yes, I do sometimes read, okay?). “Now, I know God’s real and all that, but are you going to really tell me that shoggoths and Moon Beasts and Deep Ones are all real too?”

  “My son,” Joseph said, which sounded a bit weird from the guy more than a bit younger than me, “There are infinite worlds and dimensions out there. How could those things not be real, or at least something so close they might as well be the same thing?”

  I ran my hands through my hair and let my expression of grim acceptance speak for me. If the rabbi was right (and why wouldn’t he be), I had a very real understanding of why Gabby was so shaken by this.

  If you took the movies and stories at face value, we were talking about things that could make you go totally fucking bonkers the moment you laid eyes on them. Like they say, don’t n
uke a Great Old One, it’ll just come back a few minutes later, mad and radioactive.

  “I can see the look in your eyes, and I understand your fears. But just because something is powerful, doesn’t mean it is omnipotent; that’s only the purview of one being.” Joe added somewhat sympathetically as Gabriela moved closer toward me.

  Tabitha let out an exasperated sigh. “Let’s not delve too far into myth and matters of faith.” Abner moved for the first time, but Joseph simply shook his head at him. “It isn’t like we have to deal with the Great Old Ones or God or Yahweh directly here. We simply keep the White away from this” – she pointed at the Yulatha Stone for emphasis – “or more precisely what’s inside of it.”

  Gabriela stepped around to the side of the table and leaned in closer to the cube. She studied it for a moment before looking up at her friend. “What exactly do you mean? Is it a cubic gate? A containment crystal? What?” She swallowed hard. “I mean, I’ve heard the stories, but no one seems to know exactly what’s inside it.”

  Tabby’s face twisted uncomfortably, a face I’d seen before when she had been talking to Drakos about Max. “It’s a prison of sorts.”

  “For an Old One?” I asked. It was a valid question. This thing was unlike any magical doohickey I had ever seen.

  “No, for a life.” Tabitha sighed deeply. “It traps a person’s body and soul in it. More specifically …” You could tell she wanted to spit it out, but it was sticking in her throat.

  “It holds the last Peacekeeper,” Abner’s hollow voice barreled through the room.

  Gabby’s brow twisted in anger, her eyes staring a hole through Tabitha’s head, and I was right there to put my hands on her shoulder. “They’re all dead. You said so, Roland said so, everyone said so!”