lifted her up and onto her feet. “I don’t feel like being sensible either, but if we’re leaving New York we’ve a better chance of doing so before the Collegium guardians get organized. We already know they’re watching your friend’s portal, hence the golem.”
He waited till she was awake and steady, then crossed the room and picked up her coat. He helped her into it. She leaned back and rested against him.
“We’re not going to Cynthia’s.” She put her hand into the pocket of her coat and her fingers brushed the shell Jim had given her. “We’ll use the Collegium’s preferred porter, Paul O’Halloran. They won’t expect me to walk into their territory.”
“But Paul will know where we go.”
She gripped the token. “No, he won’t. If I’m with you, he’ll assume we’re running to Alexandria.”
“For that, we’d need to contact Faroud, the Alexandrian porter. Calling your stepfather—“
“I don’t have to. I don’t need a porter, just access to a portal. Jim gave me a token which will guide us to Fremantle.” She paused. “According to Cynthia, Paul doesn’t know Jim’s portal exists.”
“So the Collegium can’t track us.” Steve nodded. “That’s why they were waiting at Cynthia’s portal. Like me, they’d lost you.”
She turned in his arms. “You won’t lose me again.”
“For damn sure.” He kissed her.
Paul O’Halloran’s portal was walking distance from Steve’s penthouse, something Fay was sure he’d calculated before buying it. Fast travel was important to a mercenary—and to the heir to the Suzerainty, an element of Steve’s identity that her tired mind struggled to deal with. She put it aside to consider later. Steve was still Steve, and she trusted him.
The Collegium-registered porter was annoyed at being woken by their unscheduled visit.
“Put it on my account,” Steve said.
Neither he nor Fay had sensed watchers, and Paul didn’t look as if he’d been warned to delay or report back on Fay’s actions. In fact, it didn’t look as if he recognized her. She hung back a step behind Steve, grateful that her dislike of portal travel had led her to mostly travel as mundanes did. There were worse things than airport security.
Paul lead the way down wooden stairs to the portal, grumbling. “Your porter, Faroud, hasn’t phoned me.”
The portal glowed green. There was a circle of river pebbles around it.
Tokens , Fay realized.
“We won’t need his guidance.” Steve’s hand tightened around hers. “Ready?”
“Hey! You’ll get lost and then—“
But Steve didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, and Fay went with him through the portal.
In between, her senses collapsed in the usual sickening confusion. She made herself ignore the portal-induced nausea and concentrated on the seashell in her left hand. Steve’s body bumped against hers as their joined hands towed him after her. Like her and all non-porters, within the between their senses were effectively blind.
Blind astronauts. She slowed her breathing, aware of panic nibbling at her exhausted control.
Steve wrapped both arms around her, never releasing her hand. She was his lifeline out of there. Without her and the token, he was lost.
The sense of his deep trust brought her mind out of the beginnings of a spiral of panic. She hated portal travel. Hated it. But this way they’d be safe, untraceable. She concentrated again and felt the shell pull, the resistance like the lightest of threads. She groped in that direction and the thread thickened from cobweb to cotton, cotton to yarn, yarn to rope—and they were out.
“You’re safe.”
Fay stumbled from the Fremantle portal straight into Yolanthe’s worried hug. Her mom had been waiting by the portal, seated in a camping chair.
“I have to get out of here.” Fay appreciated the concern, but she had to get away from the portal. Power-burned, portal-sick, she had to get out into the open air before she disgraced
He waited till she was awake and steady, then crossed the room and picked up her coat. He helped her into it. She leaned back and rested against him.
“We’re not going to Cynthia’s.” She put her hand into the pocket of her coat and her fingers brushed the shell Jim had given her. “We’ll use the Collegium’s preferred porter, Paul O’Halloran. They won’t expect me to walk into their territory.”
“But Paul will know where we go.”
She gripped the token. “No, he won’t. If I’m with you, he’ll assume we’re running to Alexandria.”
“For that, we’d need to contact Faroud, the Alexandrian porter. Calling your stepfather—“
“I don’t have to. I don’t need a porter, just access to a portal. Jim gave me a token which will guide us to Fremantle.” She paused. “According to Cynthia, Paul doesn’t know Jim’s portal exists.”
“So the Collegium can’t track us.” Steve nodded. “That’s why they were waiting at Cynthia’s portal. Like me, they’d lost you.”
She turned in his arms. “You won’t lose me again.”
“For damn sure.” He kissed her.
Paul O’Halloran’s portal was walking distance from Steve’s penthouse, something Fay was sure he’d calculated before buying it. Fast travel was important to a mercenary—and to the heir to the Suzerainty, an element of Steve’s identity that her tired mind struggled to deal with. She put it aside to consider later. Steve was still Steve, and she trusted him.
The Collegium-registered porter was annoyed at being woken by their unscheduled visit.
“Put it on my account,” Steve said.
Neither he nor Fay had sensed watchers, and Paul didn’t look as if he’d been warned to delay or report back on Fay’s actions. In fact, it didn’t look as if he recognized her. She hung back a step behind Steve, grateful that her dislike of portal travel had led her to mostly travel as mundanes did. There were worse things than airport security.
Paul lead the way down wooden stairs to the portal, grumbling. “Your porter, Faroud, hasn’t phoned me.”
The portal glowed green. There was a circle of river pebbles around it.
Tokens , Fay realized.
“We won’t need his guidance.” Steve’s hand tightened around hers. “Ready?”
“Hey! You’ll get lost and then—“
But Steve didn’t stop, didn’t hesitate, and Fay went with him through the portal.
In between, her senses collapsed in the usual sickening confusion. She made herself ignore the portal-induced nausea and concentrated on the seashell in her left hand. Steve’s body bumped against hers as their joined hands towed him after her. Like her and all non-porters, within the between their senses were effectively blind.
Blind astronauts. She slowed her breathing, aware of panic nibbling at her exhausted control.
Steve wrapped both arms around her, never releasing her hand. She was his lifeline out of there. Without her and the token, he was lost.
The sense of his deep trust brought her mind out of the beginnings of a spiral of panic. She hated portal travel. Hated it. But this way they’d be safe, untraceable. She concentrated again and felt the shell pull, the resistance like the lightest of threads. She groped in that direction and the thread thickened from cobweb to cotton, cotton to yarn, yarn to rope—and they were out.
“You’re safe.”
Fay stumbled from the Fremantle portal straight into Yolanthe’s worried hug. Her mom had been waiting by the portal, seated in a camping chair.
“I have to get out of here.” Fay appreciated the concern, but she had to get away from the portal. Power-burned, portal-sick, she had to get out into the open air before she disgraced
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