I sighed. “None of this helps.”
“No, but this may: Brach is preparing to send his best darkthreaders after the wraith. They specialize in Strataform arcana and thanaturgic combat.”
“He wants to rebind it,” I said. “So, if I can get to it before them . . .” Emaline nodded. “That was my thought, as well.They’ll start tracking tomorrow. I’ll make a point of trying to assist, and get you the location.
You’ll need to be ready to move fast.”
I was glad to hear I’d get the evening to rest. I was running on fumes. “Sounds good.”
“Remember, Jack, a wraith’s Rupture is usually a painful memory or bitter regret. It’s the very thing that makes their lingering after death a misery and turns them hateful.”
I recalled the pain I’d sensed in the wraith. “Once I find it, how do I shine its Rupture back in a new way, to turn it?”
Emaline put a hand on my arm. “When you see that dusky flicker of its madness, the way to douse it will manifest itself.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning, the way to deal with a mature wraith is unique to each one. You won’t know how to subdue it until you’ve peered into its darkest heart.”
I took her free hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’d better get going.”
“Jack.” She got a little closer, that lilac scent again. “With the wraith unbound and the ward nearly gone, Brach will start gathering his army up and down the Strata. So, by all means, be quick . . . but please also be careful.”
It had been a long time since a woman had cared about me like this.
Whether I was here in the safety of the Iron Horse, or out facing the dangers of the Strata, Emaline always seemed to be there to help. It was different than with my friends. She and I didn’t share any history, and she was fighting to take down her own father, whose cause—despite his crazed plan—had tenable arguments. She stood to lose everything, and yet she’d helped me as much as anyone, even Cassius. Maybe more.
Looking into her eyes, I slipped my arms around her. She yielded to my touch and leaned against me, her thigh tuckingin against mine. Then I leaned in and kissed her, pressing my lips against her soft, warm mouth and pulling her tight against my chest. She made a soft noise that hummed against my lips and put her hands in my hair, gently balling it in her fists. We kissed for several moments, sighing and breathing hard, wrapping ourselves as tightly together as we could. Then slowly we stopped, our eyes still locked as we held hands between us.
“I’m so very glad I met you, Jack Solomon.” She smiled, then replaced her mask and slipped from the wardrobe room, leaving me there with a racing heart and flush with desire.
In the silence and eddying dust motes, something occurred to me. I was about to chase down a wraith to renew the ward, but wasn’t sure—after healing Chuey and losing my third verse—whether the ward would still receive it from me.
I looked around—no loam to shove my hands in—and whispered, “Are you there?”
A half beat later, the costumes began to rustle, stirring more dust into the tired stripes of sunlight. Robes and dresses whipped up from their hangers, twirling and twisting together until a cloth and fabric version of the Ward stood hovering before me. A couple of red satin scarves wove themselves into layered folds to become the Ward’s face and mouth.
I stared a moment. “Something happened when I confronted Brach.”
We have felt it.
“I just . . . it’s gone. I know what my song is for now. But I can’t remember the song itself. Not the important part.”
You no longer feel forgiveness.
It was true. The hollow inside me where the Wembley memory might have been had returned to that old ache. “I should be better than needing a song to take care of this.”
Don’t be a fool. Songs have always been the way. But until you understand yours, until you find a way out of your pastand back onto the path of forgiveness, you will be unable to renew us.
“So, the ward-bond is broken.” Youare broken, Jack.
I nodded. “Fair enough. But right now, Brach is afteryoursong. He wants it for his war. And since we’re not liking my chances at trial, our best shot is still binding this wraith. I’ll just have to try and figure out my past along the way. But Brach’s army is literally at your doorstep.”
I’ ll protect the Steps for as long as I can.She paused several moments.As for you, Jack, know that your song is not so very far away. Regardless of what happens to us, or the Strata, or your world, don’t ever cease its pursuit.
It sounded like something Henry would say.
The scarves unfolded, the robes and dresses dropped to the floor. Dust motes billowed up again into the weary sunlight falling down in shafts from the old prop-room windows.
