interdicted by the device the Los Alamos people were using, and so they could’ve been using their powers to watch over Evony and me as we made our way to Taos. If nothing else, that would explain the “helping hand” we’d gotten back in Truchas.
“We’ve been expecting you,” the blond stranger said. “There’s a room waiting for you, but first, you need to talk to Zahrias.”
That was an audience I would have preferred to avoid, at least until I’d had a chance to rest and get myself more or less together. Even though I knew the djinn man in charge of this sector had come to the house merely to warn Jace and not for any nefarious reasons that I could discern, I couldn’t help the shiver of unease that passed through me whenever I recalled the harsh gleam of his dark eyes, the cruel set to his mouth. I pitied whoever he’d chosen; I would’ve been scared shitless if he’d been the one to come to me instead of Jace.
Despite the friendly tone of these two men, I could tell I wasn’t expected to argue with Zahrias’ orders. And I wouldn’t. At least they’d said there was a room waiting for me — had they put one aside for Evony, too, or did they expect us to stick together, since we were currently travel companions? That could be a little awkward, for a number of reasons.
But because the Cherokee’s heater couldn’t really keep up with the icy air pouring through the window, and because I knew there wasn’t any point in protesting, I merely asked, “Where is he?”
The blond young man turned and pointed up the street. “He’s at a resort up off Kit Carson Road. El Monte Sagrado. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” I replied, although I had a feeling it would be easy to miss a lot of things in the falling dark and the ever-increasing snow. If I drove slowly enough, however, I figured I should be okay.
The strange young man smiled and slapped the driver-side door of the Jeep with a gloved hand, reminding me unpleasantly of the way the leader of the Los Alamos gang had done the same thing to his Hummer before driving off. But I refused to let my mind go there. This was an entirely different place, and an entirely different circumstance. And, from the looks of it, an entirely different set of people.
I pushed the button to roll up the window, then began driving slowly past the two men, cutting over to the opposite side of the road to get around them. They gave me the thumbs-up before retreating to the warmth and safety of their own vehicle.
Evony had remained silent throughout the entire encounter, but she spoke then. “What do you think Zahrias wants with us?”
My mind had been playing with possibilities, each one more unpleasant than the last, but I forced myself to give what I hoped looked like a casual shrug. “He probably just wants to hear what happened to Jace and Natila. If the djinn can’t see past the field — or whatever it is — that one of those boxes generates, then they’re going to have to rely on accounts from people like us.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” she said, but she didn’t look entirely convinced.
Well, that made two of us.
I drove up Kit Carson, scanning the street — which appeared to have been plowed, miracle of miracles — for any signage. As it turned out, I didn’t need a sign, because over on our left there was a wide entrance to the resort, topped by a portico of rough-hewn logs. The driveway was plowed as well, so it was easy enough to pull in and then park the Jeep in what clearly had been intended as the guest registration area.
Lights shone in the windows, and farther off I could see a few vehicles parked here and there. Did they belong to the Chosen, or had they been left there by victims of the Dying? You wouldn’t think the consorts of the djinn would need cars to get around, not if they were hooked up with elemental beings who could simply whisk them from place to place. Or maybe not. I didn’t know exactly how it all worked, since of
“We’ve been expecting you,” the blond stranger said. “There’s a room waiting for you, but first, you need to talk to Zahrias.”
That was an audience I would have preferred to avoid, at least until I’d had a chance to rest and get myself more or less together. Even though I knew the djinn man in charge of this sector had come to the house merely to warn Jace and not for any nefarious reasons that I could discern, I couldn’t help the shiver of unease that passed through me whenever I recalled the harsh gleam of his dark eyes, the cruel set to his mouth. I pitied whoever he’d chosen; I would’ve been scared shitless if he’d been the one to come to me instead of Jace.
Despite the friendly tone of these two men, I could tell I wasn’t expected to argue with Zahrias’ orders. And I wouldn’t. At least they’d said there was a room waiting for me — had they put one aside for Evony, too, or did they expect us to stick together, since we were currently travel companions? That could be a little awkward, for a number of reasons.
But because the Cherokee’s heater couldn’t really keep up with the icy air pouring through the window, and because I knew there wasn’t any point in protesting, I merely asked, “Where is he?”
The blond young man turned and pointed up the street. “He’s at a resort up off Kit Carson Road. El Monte Sagrado. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” I replied, although I had a feeling it would be easy to miss a lot of things in the falling dark and the ever-increasing snow. If I drove slowly enough, however, I figured I should be okay.
The strange young man smiled and slapped the driver-side door of the Jeep with a gloved hand, reminding me unpleasantly of the way the leader of the Los Alamos gang had done the same thing to his Hummer before driving off. But I refused to let my mind go there. This was an entirely different place, and an entirely different circumstance. And, from the looks of it, an entirely different set of people.
I pushed the button to roll up the window, then began driving slowly past the two men, cutting over to the opposite side of the road to get around them. They gave me the thumbs-up before retreating to the warmth and safety of their own vehicle.
Evony had remained silent throughout the entire encounter, but she spoke then. “What do you think Zahrias wants with us?”
My mind had been playing with possibilities, each one more unpleasant than the last, but I forced myself to give what I hoped looked like a casual shrug. “He probably just wants to hear what happened to Jace and Natila. If the djinn can’t see past the field — or whatever it is — that one of those boxes generates, then they’re going to have to rely on accounts from people like us.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” she said, but she didn’t look entirely convinced.
Well, that made two of us.
I drove up Kit Carson, scanning the street — which appeared to have been plowed, miracle of miracles — for any signage. As it turned out, I didn’t need a sign, because over on our left there was a wide entrance to the resort, topped by a portico of rough-hewn logs. The driveway was plowed as well, so it was easy enough to pull in and then park the Jeep in what clearly had been intended as the guest registration area.
Lights shone in the windows, and farther off I could see a few vehicles parked here and there. Did they belong to the Chosen, or had they been left there by victims of the Dying? You wouldn’t think the consorts of the djinn would need cars to get around, not if they were hooked up with elemental beings who could simply whisk them from place to place. Or maybe not. I didn’t know exactly how it all worked, since of
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