Titan Song by Dan Stout (best english books to read txt) 📗

people I cared for. Shared suffering can create bonds, and we all take solace in those nearest us. Maybe that’s what had drawn Gellica and me together, our bond of mutual risk and connection to magic. Of course, whatever we might have had crashed before it even got started. One more entry in my ongoing list of bridges burned and friends disappointed.

“I’m sure a book will help out immensely,” I said. “I really need to be going, though. I’ll catch you later.”

I rose, but halted when Guyer said, “I don’t want to end up doing this the hard way.”

Half crouched over the table, my tie threatened to swing into the sorcerer’s salad. I pressed it to my chest with one hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean you can’t go out on the streets if you pose a danger.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It doesn’t need to be. But if you force me to, I’ll bring in Dr. Baelen.”

Baelen was the observer sent by the AFS to watch for health risks posed by next gen manna. In reality, she was plucking anyone who had a negative reaction out of the public eye and holding them for observation. As always the wheels of progress were greased with the blood of inconvenient bystanders.

Guyer was the TPD liaison for the medical exams. I knew there was no love lost between her and Baelen, so I decided to call her bluff.

“You’d never just hand me over to Baelen. Hells, you’ve blocked her from coming after me in the past.” As I spoke Guyer’s eyes flashed and my mistake became very clear.

“I would turn you over in a heartbeat if it saves lives.” Guyer’s nostrils flared. “If one of your buddies from Homicide stumbled out of here after slamming down drinks, and headed straight to the Bunker, would you let them start their day? Or would you get involved?”

“There’s only one way I’d get involved,” I said. “And it wouldn’t be crawling to internal affairs or tattling to an outsider.”

“Good for you,” she said. “The point is, you wouldn’t let them hurt someone else, or sabotage their own career. You’d do it because if you didn’t, whatever happened next would be on your head. So if you think my earlier statement was a threat, that’s on you. Now sit down.”

I locked eyes with Guyer, and I knew that she was serious. Defeated, I dropped back into my seat.

“Who else knows?” she asked.

“Jax.”

“I figured. No one else?”

I did my best not to think of the astonishment on Gellica’s face when I demonstrated my ability to impact manna-linked items. The mixture of excitement and relief, as we both realized we weren’t solitary freaks. And, days later, the look on her face when she’d walked away in disappointment.

“No,” I said. “No one at all.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Guyer crossed her arms, leather crunching with the motion. “In the meantime, read the book. You’ll save us all a lot of heartache if you accept what’s happening.”

Grudgingly, I reached down and plucked it off of the table, where I’d planned to accidentally leave it behind.

“You tried to show me what you could do once before,” she said. “If I requisitioned some next gen manna, think you could try again?”

“Sure,” I said. “You get the glittery stuff from underground, and I’ll put on a show. Then you can leave me alone.”

She seemed to consider that. “I don’t think the problem is people leaving you alone or not.”

I opened my mouth to tell her how full of it she was, but she talked over me.

“I know you don’t believe me,” she said. “But I think you’ll be far better off if you can find a little forgiveness for others. Do that, and maybe you’ll find it for yourself, as well.”

I thought of Ronald, the kid Jax had followed up on. I could still see the kid’s mom as vividly as if I were still in the room, holding her hand as her body crumbled away, devoured by the manna threads wrapped around her. Threads that had grown strong because of my unknowing involvement. I didn’t kill her, but I’d shortened her time on the Path. If not for me, she’d have lived longer. Maybe long enough to say goodbye to her son. Maybe long enough to find help.

I didn’t think I’d be forgiving myself anytime soon.

With a shake of my head to clear away the past, I said, “So can I go?”

Guyer sat back. “I tried. When it all burns up for you, remember that I tried.” We stared at each other for several seconds, before she dismissed me with a wave. “Yes, you can go.”

I gave my most noncommittal grunt, and headed for the door. I wasn’t a sorcerer. I was something else entirely. And no self-help book was going to hold the answers. I paused for only the briefest of prayers, my hand over the entry vent as the shouts of welcome and good cheer echoed behind me. And then I was gone, emerging once more into that city, teeming with crime and greed, betrayal and glory. I dragged in a breath and walked the streets of Titanshade.

13

I LEFT HAMMER HEAD’S IRRITATED AND hungry. I didn’t like being reminded of the moral price we all paid to simply exist in the city. Even worse, none of the nearby restaurants or noodle stands caught my eye. I wanted something fast and portable, and most of the street vendors were on break, not willing to compete with sit-down restaurants for the dinner rush. Farther down the block, the squeal of ill-maintained brakes and the asthmatic wheeze of hydraulic doors announced the arrival of a city bus. That sealed it. I’d head to the Bunker, where I could make a couple calls and get batter-dipped something or other at one of the street vendors sure to be catering to the night shift.

I managed to find an open seat on the bus, mostly because no one else was willing to sit