Silence Fallen (Mercy Thompson #10)(107)

“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.”