“Why?” Marci asked, breath stopping in her throat. “Is something going to happen to him?”
“Lots of things,” Bob replied, straightening back up with a shrug. “But I’m not telling you this because I foresee disaster. To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to look down your future yet. I just happened to spot you hesitating just now, and as a loving brother, I felt compelled to intervene. Maybe it will matter, maybe it won’t, but you should say something to Julius in either case, because he’ll be insufferable if you don’t.”
“It won’t be that bad,” Marci said, lowering her eyes. “He’s busy. I don’t want to put him off his game by making him worry.”
“You didn’t see him while you were gone,” Bob said. “Trust me, there is nothing you could say to him right now that would upset him more than you vanishing without a word. Just go give him a hug or something. He’d love it, and this cavern could use a little positive energy.”
He looked over his shoulder at the tense clusters of waiting dragons, but Marci still wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure this is about Julius and not you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Because every other time you’ve told me to do something for Julius, it’s been for your plans.”
“Julius is my plans,” Bob snapped, his voice surprisingly angry. “How many times do I have to spell this out? Julius. Is. My. Lynchpin. He’s the fixed point around which aaaaaaaaaaaall of this”—he waved his hand at the dragons, the spirits, the humans, and everything else that was packed into the cavern—“revolves. Without him, everything would fly apart, including me. You just saw that power in action with the Black Reach, so I don’t think my sticking up for Julius’s mental well-being is suspicious. I need him to be at his best now more than ever, and that doesn’t happen when he’s tearing out his hair in worry over you.” The seer looked away with a huff. “Honestly. I’m starting to wonder which of us is actually his significant other.”
Given the hell Bob had put Julius through, the urge to call him on his concerned-brother act was almost undeniable. The only reason Marci didn’t was because he really did look upset. The seer was normally such a flake, it was hard to take anything he said seriously, but the anger in his eyes was real enough that Marci was willing to give him a pass, just this once. Also, it wasn’t as if she’d wanted to sneak off without her kiss.
“All right,” she said. “But just so we’re clear, this butting-into-my-relationship thing is a one-off event. I’ve seen the damage your ‘help’ can do, and I’d rather take my chances with the blind future.”
“A fair criticism,” Bob said, reaching up to pet the pigeon that was roosting in his long hair. “Just be careful not to die. I don’t know if I’ll be able to swing another resurrection.”
Marci frowned. “Do you foresee me dying?”
The seer turned away with a flippant wave. “Outlook hazy. Try again later.”
Rolling her eyes, Marci hoisted her freezing cat—Ghost number two now that his normal-sized body had vanished back into the huge one holding up the barrier—and tromped out of the wreckage of their house toward Svena’s frost-fire circle, where Julius was still directing newcomers.
***
Julius was starting to feel extremely overwhelmed.
Once they got rolling, Amelia and Svena summoned dragons at whirlwind speed. In the past twenty minutes, hundreds had come through the icy portal, leaving the dirt yard around his wrecked house packed. At this point, the artificial cavern below the on-ramps was even more crowded than the Heartstriker throne room had been during the vote. Unlike the crowd back home, however, these dragons were not all from the same family, and tensions in the cramped space were running high.
Those who could had separated themselves by clan. As promised, the Qilin’s dragons—at least the ones he’d brought with him to New Mexico—had flown in on their own, sheltered from the magical fallout by Lao, who was apparently no slouch sorcerer. Those who’d stayed behind in China came in via Svena’s portal, which meant the entire might of the Golden Empire was now on display, and taking up a good half of the available space. The only dragon missing was the Empress Mother, whom Julius had been informed was not welcome in this endeavor, which was perfectly fine with him. If he never saw the red-eyed old snake again, it would be too soon.
The other clans were less impressive but still formidable, especially since some of the smaller clan heads had refused to put on their human shapes amid so many enemies. Julius was trying to convince a particularly stubborn old dragoness that she would be much more comfortable in her human form, or any shape that didn’t take up such a large amount of room, when he caught the beat of Marci’s quick footsteps coming up behind him.
As always, the sound made his heart leap. He bowed out of his conversation as fast as he could and turned around just in time to smile at her as she came to a stop. “Everything okay?”
“No,” she said, glancing at the blacked-out sky. “But nothing’s more on fire than it was half an hour ago, which is all we can ask right now.”
Julius couldn’t argue with that. “Is your banishment plan still on track?”
“I think so,” Marci said. “Myron’s already gone to the Heart of the World to start repairing the containment circle. I’m leaving to join him right now.”
Those words were enough to stop his heart. The last time Marci had gone to the Heart of the World, she’d died.
“Don’t worry,” she said before he could panic. “I’m taking a nonlethal route this time.”
“Good,” he said with a relieved breath, though nothing could stop his hands from shaking. “I won’t keep you, then, but how long do you think it will take you and Myron to set up the banishment?” He looked over his shoulder at the packed cavern. “Everyone will be here soon, and I want to be able to tell them how long they’ll need to fight.”
Marci bit her lip. “I’m not sure. Myron’s the only one of us who’s worked with the Heart of the World’s spellwork before, but we’re talking about fixing a blowout in the most complicated spellwork assembly ever constructed. Even if he’s just patching what’s already there, I don’t see how he could possibly manage it in less than four hours, and that’s being really optimistic.”
Julius looked away to hide his wince. Four hours was a lot to ask, especially since they didn’t yet know what the Leviathan was capable of. For all he knew, they’d be lucky to last ten minutes.
“I’m sorry,” Marci said, wringing her hands. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but—”
“It’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile. “I told you we’d hold him back, and we will. Four hours or forty, we’ll buy you the time you need or die trying.” Because if they couldn’t, they were all dead anyway.