Come, Seeling Night

by Daniel Humphreys

  “Loose or bound?”

  Eliot and George looked at each other, mystified, and Valentine’s eyes flickered to the corner where Roxanne lurked. “Loose,” he said, finally. “You can’t exactly Xerox a spell, and transcribing them requires special materials, so the originals tend to stick around. The books fall apart, the pieces trickle out into the world. Handed down along family lines, sold in black markets. We’ve got significant chunks of several major editions, but the singletons far outweigh them. Over the years, we traced down most of the storage facilities where your mother cached the materials she was able to maintain. All of those documents we recovered were loose. There were rumors among the magical community that she’d found something whole, but we never turned anything up.” Valentine frowned. “When she sent us a message using one of our agent’s phones, we realized the rumor mill was right, for a change.” He shrugged. “We checked your house a few times, but never found anything.”

  I nodded. For years, the book existed as a sack of ashes in a bag after I burned it. I’d hidden it, afraid that even the ashes might be dangerous, and I supposed that had made any search for it by someone who didn’t know what to look for all the more difficult. Before Cassie and I set out toward Phoenix, I’d recovered it and discovered that the same magic that I used to heal myself made it whole once more. All things considered, that was looking more and more like one of my all-time bad decisions. I’d acquired my ability to phase and Cassie had learned her truth spell, but that had been the extent of the use we’d made of the book before Mother arrived and reclaimed it. “That’s why you visited me in the hospital?”

  “Not entirely—I wanted to take your measure. I needed to know if you were bent or not.”

  “If I had been?”

  “Let’s just say we wouldn’t be talking, now.” His smile was a little too cold to be comforting. “So, the book reads your mind. How does that play into your doubt?”

  “The first few spells I learned were an accident. I happened upon the book, and it took my need to talk to my dad again and presented me the spell that allows me to talk to ghosts.” I shook my head. “Of course, the stupid thing didn’t tell me that the spell would turn me into a magnet. They just seem to find me.” I’d used that to my benefit, in fighting the Edimmu, but that was a tale for another day. If it came down to scars and war stories, I had a feeling a seemingly-immortal former Wild West gunfighter had me beat. “And, you know, it was actually kind of cool at first. Then I happened to wonder what Mother had wanted to do with it…” I fell silent and shivered, though the room was a comfortable temperature.

  “What did the spell say?” Eliot murmured.

  “It wasn’t so much what it said, exactly. This was different than anything I’ve ever seen. There were words, but to be honest, I was so scared by the other aspects of it that I slammed it shut before I saw more than a sentence or two. It showed me images. Horrific stuff—fire falling from the sky, cannibalism, smoke blocking out the sun. Even putting it into words doesn’t do it justice—there was an emotional aspect to it. I felt like I was there suffering right along with everyone else, and I felt hopeless in the chaos.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to compose myself. Even across the gulf of years, looking back on the memory made me feel panicky. “It was like a warning—sort of a mystical ‘no trespassing’ sign thrown up by the grimoire. I got the message. I slammed it shut and never looked for that ever again.”

  “How does that play into you disagreeing with the belief that your mother intends to open the nexus?”

  “Believe me, this isn’t me thinking that my mother isn’t capable of horrible things. I know she is. The context isn’t right.” I fell silent. It was a hard thing to put into words. How did you sum up the totality of a person that you’ve known for your entire life into a few sentences? “Movies,” I said, suddenly, and the other men around the table looked confused. “My dad and I loved to go to the movies, but we never took Mother. She turned her nose up at ‘such plebeian entertainment.’”

  “I’m confused,” Eliot said. “What does this have to do with you seeing a vision of the end of the world?”

  “It’s unsophisticated. It’s brute force—it’s something out of a Hollywood blockbuster. If she wants to do something big, it’ll be more refined.”

  “She burned down a frat house,” Valentine said. “That’s not exactly refined.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “That said, though, she’s had more than one opportunity to show off. Rather than fight me when she had the advantage of numbers, she ran. Blowing up a gas station was a little over the top, but again, she ran. She has the power to do whatever she wants. But instead of brute-forcing her way to her destination, she took the subtler approach. Why?”

  I didn’t have an answer. “I guess we have to catch her and find out, huh?”

  “Easier said than done,” Valentine said, his face grim. “I’ve got a tracking spell on her, but she’s no longer in this plane of existence.”

  Replaying his words in my head to make sure I’d heard him right, I said, “Huh?”

  “Dimensional nexuses are strange things. She hauled Cassie to one of the smaller ones and,” He clapped his hands together. “Vanished. Our current working theory is that she’s using it as a means to avoid capture, and she’ll pop out at a time and place of her choosing.”

  “You’re telling me she used magic to time travel?”

  “Essentially.”

  I rubbed my forehead and closed my eyes. “Good grief. I should have studied more.” A sudden chill went through. “What’s to stop her from going back and doing the first ritual right this time?”

  “I asked Morgan the same question—it’s a one-way trip. The past is immutable.”

  That was at once comforting and depressing. Comforting because I knew the things I’d managed to achieve would stand, and depressing because it also meant that I couldn’t go back and fix the multitude of errors I’d made along the way. Then again, dad always used to say that our losses defined us more than our victories. Without those clarifying moments, would I even be the same person? “Well, that’s small comfort, at least.”

  Valentine checked his watch. “It’s getting late. Let’s wrap this up for the night. We’ll get you a hotel room until we can arrange something more permanent, and start fresh in the morning. If you want a job, I’m going to take advantage of it. Maybe you can spot something in Leesburg our other folks missed.”

  “A job?” I echoed. “I thought I was just helping.”

  “Look, to be blunt—we need people in the worst way. And you’ve got more talent in your little finger than most everyone in Division M except for Morgan.” He winked at Eliot and George. “It’s not going to be easy on you. If you want in, we’re going to run you through the wringer. No more getting your ass kicked all over the place by familiars.”

  “In my defense, there were three of them,” I said, then chuckled. “I’m not saying no, I never thought about it as an option. It’s not like I knew you guys even existed before a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Son, the government is a reflection of her people. In our case, that means clumsy, easily-distracted, but generally well-intentioned.” Val cocked his head to one side and reconsidered. “Well, in the case of the IRS, pure evil, but that’s a story for another day. I talked to Agent Anjewierden about this Void group. We’ve got zip on them, which is a problem. I’d like to compare notes—I’m guessing you’ve seen stuff that we’ve been too busy to notice. I don’t like knowing that we missed things, because that usually happens right before something bites you in the ass.”

  Meeting his eyes, I hesitated for the barest of instants, then nodded. “I’m in.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Paxton—Thursday morning

  Washington, DC

  The next few days got off to a weird start and somehow got stranger along the way.

  Valentine offered to pick me up in the morning, but the hotel where I’d decided to stay was withi
n walking distance of ATF headquarters. The Sofitel Washington was a hell of a lot fancier—and pricier—than your typical RV campground, but the return of my wallet and personal effects seemed as worthy a cause for celebration as any.

  When I checked in the night before, I’d had a moment of panic when I unpacked my clothes and realized that none of the stuff was appropriate for a professional environment. After consulting with the front desk, I made the hike to a nearby Men’s Wearhouse and laid down some cash on a plain black suit, a few shirts, black socks, and dress shoes. Unwilling to go full-on adult, I picked out a handful of ties with Star Wars and Marvel characters.

  Dress code? What’s that?

  The most annoying aspect of the process was Roxanne. She kept popping her head into the dressing room as I tried things on to make sarcastic comments. I’d left the Bluetooth earpiece back in the hotel room, so I had to settle for literally rolling my eyes and figuratively biting my tongue. The empty sidewalk on the way back to the hotel gave me the opportunity to return fire.

  “If you’re bored with the situation, say the word.”

  Oh, relax. I was just having a little fun.

  “Sure, I get it. What was the deal with bound versus loose, earlier?”

  Something Helen said, once. She said each page of the grimoire held layers of magic. The fragments we had lost most of that.

  “That makes sense. I wonder, though…” I hummed thoughtfully.

  What?

  “Well, I was able to restore the grimoire. Could I do something similar if I had enough pieces of a larger whole? Something to look into.”

  For the record, I’m not bored. I’m a little perturbed that you’re working with the guys that killed my friends, but it’s a means to an end. If they help us stop Helen, it’ll be worth it in the end.

  I frowned. “In their defense, they may have pulled the trigger, but my mom is the one that put them in the line of fire. Don’t lose sight of that. If she hadn’t used and abused you all, they’d all be alive right now.”

  She considered that for half a block, then admitted, You’re right.

  “From the sounds of things, we’re in for a wait.” The fact that Mother had somehow gained the ability to time travel was disconcerting as hell. Presumably, she’d picked that up before breaking out of prison. I didn’t think she’d had enough time between abducting Cassie and making her escape in Oklahoma. Then again, she did seem to have a bit more of an intuitive grasp of how to control the damn thing. For all I knew, she could use it as the magical equivalent of an Internet search engine.

  But I had time. And I fully planned to take every advantage of it.

  Eliot was waiting for me in the lobby and escorted me through security. My first steps were mundane enough—I officially became an employee of the Department of Justice after filling out enough paperwork to choke a horse. After spending a few days as a nonentity with no driver’s license, it was surreal to see my name on a government identification card. The golden badge with blue lettering doubled down on that.

  Eliot led me out of human resources on a brisk walk toward our basement offices. It was silent inside of the elevator until I broke it with a question I’d had since Gordo gave me the scoop on Division M. “Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives. Why magic, too?”

  Eliot smiled. “Institutional inertia, for the most part. But like I always say, there’s not much more explosive than a pissed-off magic user.”

  “Fair point,” I said. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “I need to grab something, then we’re heading over the Leesburg annex so you can take a look through the damaged areas. Then we see what you can do.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “If you want me to show off some spells, let’s order some extra pizzas.”

  He grunted, then said, “Noted. We might do some spell work, but it’s best to hold off on that till Morgan gets back. She’ll put you through your paces, there. I’m talking about more elementary stuff—shooting, unarmed combat, obstacle courses.”

  “Sounds like basic training,” I said. On the bright side, Cassie had hounded me into running with her after I got out of the hospital, though the kidnapping thing had put a kink in our fitness regimen. I wasn’t a slug by any stretch of the imagination, but I wasn’t exactly ready to go all-out, either.

  “Pretty much. You’ve got to understand, most of the agents we bring in come from the military or other law enforcement agencies. That prior experience gives us a known baseline to work with. Valentine greased the skids a bit, but we still need to make sure you’re up to snuff. If you’re not, we’ll work on it until you are.”

  “I hope we have enough time.”

  The doors opened with a ding, and Eliot grinned. “Kid, if it comes down to you having to use a gun, things will have already gone to hell. All things considered, I’m most interested to see what kind of tricks you can learn from Morgan. She’s … pretty experienced.”

  “How about you?”

  He gave me a wary look as we walked down the hall. “I’m up there,” he allowed. “Valentine’s got more than a few years on me, but Morgan’s the senior agent by a good margin. Just—don’t bring that up, you know?”

  “She touchy on the subject?”

  “No,” he said, his tone a little confused. “It’s good manners, isn’t it?”

  “Ah.”

  Once Eliot retrieved a duffel bag from his office, he led me to an underground parking garage and a waiting Suburban. Another dozen or so identical vehicles sat in neat rows, surrounded by more varied types that I assumed were personal vehicles. They must get a bulk discount on the SUVs.

  Our return to the Leesburg facility brought me full circle. I seemed to be doing a lot of backtracking, these days. If I’d come in this way the last time, I couldn’t recall. Eliot turned off the main highway and headed past a shopping center and a cluster of housing additions. I looked over toward the place I’d holed up in. He must have interpreted my study as curiosity, because he remarked, “I remember when this was all woods. Wish we’d have bought up the land around the campus before they started developing it, but bureaucrats would rather spend money on the flashy stuff that gets votes than operational security.” He grinned, dispelling his morose tone. “Say it with me, kid. Institutional inertia.”

  “Is it safe? I saw some of the things down in the Menagerie.” I thought it might be impolite to mention that I’d helped one of them escape, but that was a can of worms I wanted to put off talking about as long as I could.

  “For the most part.” He turned and gave me a look. “Up until recently, the Puck is the only thing that’s ever escaped.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Yeah, about that—”

  He waved a hand. “No worries. As I said, it’s not the first time, and it’s not likely to be the last.”

  “If I’d known it was dangerous, I’d have done more,” I tried to explain. “For what it’s worth, I pushed it not to eat any more people.”

  Eliot chuckled. “Trust me, if it were a major danger, we’d have killed it on sight. Although, after the last few times, I think Val’s getting tired of chasing the damn thing. It’s mostly a trickster, and harmless, albeit scary-looking. The guards blew the eating people a thing a little out of proportion.”

  “How exactly does that happen?”

  He gave me another look. “The people in question were cooking meth out in the woods. No big loss.” Eliot shrugged. “The Puck’s people were here before the Pilgrims. As far as we know, he’s the last of his kind. The way I figure it, he’s got a right to live his life, same as us. As long as he behaves himself.”

  “That would seem to be a problem if you have to keep catching him.”

  “Well, you get old, you get set in your ways. We’re here.”

  If I’d thought the building large from the rear, the front was all the more impressive. There were far more windows here than in the rear, showing me that there were two stories worth of rooms along the front�
��offices or classrooms, from what I could see from the car.

  The parking lot itself was a broad, L-shaped affair, and filled almost to capacity. That, though, seemed due to the fact that someone had roped off half of the area to provide a parking area for an assortment of trailers, piles of materials, and heavy construction equipment. “Repairs?”

  “The clean-up is complete. We’ve got most of the facility up and running, but the rest should be back in business by the first of the year.” He led me into the front entrance and through security under the eyes of a pair of watchful guards. Normal behavior, or more alert after the attack? It was impossible to know for sure, but I couldn’t imagine they’d been lackadaisical before, knowing what the building held under our feet. Whatever party had pulled off the attack had walked a narrow line of stealth and audacity. The timing had worked out for me, and that made me feel all the more guilty given the casualty numbers I’d heard.

  The signs of the explosion were small but evident as I followed Eliot through the office. Here and there, light fixtures were dead. Cardboard covered the spaces left behind by shattered panes of glass in interior office walls. Sheetrock dust speckled some of the desks we passed, but intent men and women occupied many of the others.

  “We do a lot of research and development here. The study of artifacts and cryptids isn’t something you want to farm out to the private sector,” Eliot explained. He led me through a set of double glass doors into a small waiting room. These had survived the blast, but the wall in front of us had not—it was mainly open, though a construction crew was inserting new panels into the divider that separated this room from the open space beyond.

  The office complex seemed to surround a large gymnasium. I shot Eliot a questioning look, and he shrugged. “Some of our training methods, we can’t exactly go out to Quantico or any of the open-air DOJ facilities. Keeps away the prying eyes.” I gave him a questioning look, then glanced at the contractors. “No worries—retired CIA agent started his own construction business. His people are vetted. Come on,” he said, leading me into the next room.