I flinched as another burst of static from the soup can made it next to impossible for me to respond. “Cathy, I can hear you.”
“Dad?”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut. I could feel the concentration needed to hold open that connection—it wasn’t easy, and he wouldn’t be able to hold it open for long.
“Dad? You’re fading.”
“Are you okay?” I shouted over the waves of static.
“I’m scared.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
The fear in my daughter’s voice was gut churning. Even with only half a soul I felt every ounce of it in full and living color.
“What do you see? Where are you?”
My daughter’s words broke up, lost in the garble of another wash of extra-worldly static.
“Hold on to her, Adam!”
“It’s… hard…” my apprentice said, sweat beading along his furrowed brow. “She’s different, something’s not right. I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand? The House lied.” I grabbed the young man’s hoodie and brought his face next to mine, almost breaking his link to my daughter in the process. “The damn House lied. That’s Cathy, I know it’s her, and she’s still lost.”
“Dad…”
Cathy’s voice was faint now, barely registering above the collapsing connection.
“Don’t lose her!” I shouted, letting go of Adam’s hoodie and placing my hands on his to will Magick I didn’t have into the can.
“Something’s wrong… Are you sure this is her?” Adam said, clearly fighting to keep the connection open. “It’s confusing and jumbled. There’s a lot of anger…”
I know my blood.
“Cathy, don’t go!”
“I…”
“I’m coming for you! I promised you I would and I meant it. I’m coming for you and I’ll tear this world to pieces if I have to.”
“Love…”
“I love you, Cathy,” I cried, no longer able to hold back the tears.
A subtle red glow enveloped the can, like the insides of a toaster, but just like those bread-cooking metal rods, it got brighter, a lot brighter.
“Gene,” Adam said, the hot light slipping out between his fingers. “I’ve got to cut the call.”
“No! Cathy, can you hear me? I need you to find Stewart. I sent him to help you. He’s bound to me and will do whatever I tell him to do. Stay quiet and stay safe. I’m coming for you. Cathy, do you hear me? Cathy!”
Angry red light poured out of the tin can, casting us in fiery hue.
“Gene… That’s not Cathy! There’s too much anger.”
“What do you mean it’s not—”
A hard-edged and gravelly version of Cathy’s voice spoke, sharp and oddly pitched, like a distorted piece of audio stretched nearly to the point of breaking. “I hear you. I’m here waiting for you. Come save me.”
“Cathy!” I shouted into the can.
“That can’t be her.” Small wisps of smoke rose from Adam’s fingers. “I’m telling you something isn’t right.”
“Dad?” Catherine’s voice was back again, without the terrifying edge. “Dad, I love you. Please help me.”
“I will, I’m coming for you.”
“Stop,” Adam cried, the smell of burning flesh filling the surrounding air. “It’s using you. Whatever that is, it’s not your daughter.”
“It’s me, Dad.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Adam’s hands shook, his fingers holding tight to the bending metal. “I’ve got to let it go. It’s going to pull me in!”
“No… Cathy!”
The twisted voice returned. “Find me—”
I didn’t hear the rest of her words. They were lost in a burst of static.
“Cathy!”
“Gene, help me,” Adam pleaded, his own voice breaking.
“Cathy!”
My apprentice struggled to release the can and its hold on his Magick. “Please!”
In a fit of frustration I raked my fingers through the sigil, cutting Marvin’s Long Line and closing the door on my only daughter all over again. Adam fell forward, shoving his hands into the sand and puffing through the pain.
“I… I wasn’t sure you would do that,” he said, burying his fingers deep and blinking back at the tears in his eyes.
I kicked the can away, letting it tumble across the clearing before ending up in a shallow pool of swamp water. The bright red metal sent a blast of steam into the air and took with it what remained of my patience.
“Neither was I.”
Adam flexed his fingers beneath the cool sand. “Gene, it wasn’t her.”
“Like hell it wasn’t.”
My apprentice shook his head. “You don’t have your Magick, you couldn’t feel what I felt. I’m telling you it wasn’t her.”
I got up and slammed the trunk shut then spun around on him. “Oh yeah? Well, then tell me what that was, Mr. Master Magician?”
“Gene…” Adam’s shoulders slumped in his navy hoodie. “I don’t know, but I do know what it looks like—”
“You do? So enlighten me, what does it look like, Merlin?”
My apprentice removed his gently roasted fingers from the sand to examine them. “It looks like obsession,” he said, his voice soft and without malice. “Like I said before, after my dad died it was the same thing. My mom didn’t want to believe it. She kept thinking he could hear her, that somehow he was still there.”
“This is nothing like that,” I yelled, slamming my fist against the trunk lid. “Cathy isn’t dead.”
“You’re right, Gene. She’s not. She’s alive and well in Tampa with her mom and brother. She’s growing up and learning new things. You aren’t in her life anymore, and that’s because you chose not to be.”
Had I still had my Magick I wasn’t sure what I would have done at that moment. I wanted to tear him apart. I wanted to hold my daughter again. I wanted to make all of this right, but my power was gone, and with it had gone any chance I might have had to get to her.
“I did what I had to do.”
Adam blew on his pink fingers. “I know you did. I also don’t know that I would have been capable of doing the same in your place.”
“I’m not going to argue with you anymore. I’m simply going to tell you how it’s going to be,” I said, willing my voice to a level tone. “You are going to help me get a Hellgate open and afterwards we can go our own way. You won’t be my apprentice anymore; you’ll be on your own.”
Adam’s face fell, this time he left no doubt that there were tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “Don’t do this, Gene.”
“I’m afraid you haven’t left me much in the way of a choice. You don’t believe that was my daughter, do you?”
Adam hesitated, his face a mess of emotions. “I…”
“That’s all I need to know.”
The sound of dry leaves cracking and snapping twigs drew our attention to the edge of the clearing. Little Ed and Kaylee broke through the tree line, the Swamp Witch holding up her son. “We interrupting something, boys?”
“No,” Adam and I said in unison.
“Good. You promised me we’d deal with my bird problem.”
“I did—we need to go to where you found the flamingos.”
Adam wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “You mean like from the movie theatre last year? There are more of them?”
“Yes,” I said, acknowledging my apprentice perhaps more curtly than I intended. “Where are they?”
Kaylee tilted her head slightly, perhaps noticing the tension between Adam and I. “Sturkey.”
“Isn’t that a restaurant?” Adam asked. “I could have sworn we stopped at one on the way over.”
“Not Stuckey’s,” Little Ed shook his head, “Sturkey. It’s a derelict mining town deep in the swamp: old, abandoned, and overrun with limestone.”
I pressed a hand against the compact in one pocket while I thought of the
photo wheel in the other.
I’m going to get my Magick back, and when I do I know exactly where I’m headed.
“We better get going,” Kaylee said, pointing toward a path leading away from her house. “I’d like to get there before the evening service.”
“Evening service?” Adam and I asked.
“Yeah, did we forget to mention? Sturkey’s sacred to the Bridge Trolls.”
The color drained from my apprentice’s face. “Wait, you never said anything about Bridge Trolls in your email, Gene.”
Kaylee brushed him off. “You’ll manage. You don’t eat rocks, do you?”
“No…”
“Then you’ll be fine.”
Adam didn’t appear convinced. He fished out his mother’s keys and unlocked the trunk, then gathered up a number of different items from our dangerous Magickal collection before shoving them in a comically tight backpack. He slung the purse-like pouch over his shoulder and locked the trunk back up.
Kaylee led us out of the clearing and into the dense swamp. We hadn’t gone more than twenty feet before Adam placed a hand on my shoulder. “Gene, what about the compact and Delia’s Darkling. It’s trapped in that mirror. Shouldn’t we leave it in the car?”
“And risk Evil Gene finding it first? No, it stays with me. The mirror is safe inside that compact. Back when I had Magick, I encased the sides with Quigley’s Quagmire. No one is getting past that—no one short of my Darkling.”
Adam nodded. “Gene, what if she’s there?”
“Delia?”
“Yeah…”
“Having walked around without my Magick for a day or so now, I can attest that there’s little chance she’s still alive. Besides, that was a long time ago.”
“Okay…” Adam fiddled with this tiny backpack straps. “Listen, about Cathy, I just—”
“Stop. I’m done discussing it. I’m going to save my daughter, with or without your help.”
“You didn’t feel what I did. I’m telling you, something isn’t right…”
“Without it is,” I said, shaking off his arm and pushing ahead into the scrub palmetto.
25
The Muscles that Tussles
Kaylee hadn’t been lying; then again, I didn’t believe subterfuge was a move she understood. The trek to Sturkey was anything but short. The majority of the day had been spent pushing our way through dense scrub palmetto and trudging across sugar-white sand. Large pines blocked the path from time to time, forcing the Swamp Witch to pause and consult what appeared to be some form of mental map.
Adam for his part stayed quiet. I could tell he was brooding, but I didn’t care. His happiness was not something that I was interested in worrying about at the time.
I snuck another look at the reconciliation wheel and really wished I hadn’t. According to the picture disc I was paying a hefty price for my conversation with Adam. I’d lost five squares thanks to that little maneuver.
You have the mirror now; you don’t need the stupid disc. You can force the issue.
“Please don’t tell me you’re lost,” I said, shoving the photo circle back in my pocket before scratching at a fire ant that had decided to chew on my exposed ankle.
Kaylee turned a very slow three-sixty following the horizon with her eyes. “I’m not lost…”
“You aren’t inspiring confidence.”
Little Ed took a seat on a fallen log and removed one of his shoes, then turned it over to pour the fine white sand in it on the ground. “Just like the hunts with Dad.”
“Except your father never knew what he was doing—I do.”
Little Ed stifled a smirk and tugged his sneaker back on. “It’s that way, Mom.”
The Swamp Witch tilted her head. “Are you sure? I could have sworn it was this way?”
“Nope. If we go that way we’ll end up neck deep in an old Timucua burial mound full of Restless Dead. Don’t you remember? That was the hunt both of you went on, back when we were a…” Little Ed’s voice trailed off. His mother didn’t press him to finish his statement.
“Restless Dead?” I asked, getting a good look at the dense cypress swamp leading toward the burial mound. “I’d just as soon avoid that if I can help it—no Magick and all.”
“Agreed. We’ll keep clear of it as best we can, but we should be fine, provided there are no Thinnings,” Kaylee said, pulling her long auburn hair back and tying if off in a rubber band.
“Oh yeah, you keep track of those do you?”
The Swamp Witch shook her head. “You can’t. It’s impossible to track Thinnings—they just happen.”
Adam dropped his hoodie’s zipper to half-mast, exposing us to a number of dark sweat stains expanding along his chest and arms. “Uh, that’s not entirely true.”
“Oh really, please tell us, Mr. Master Magician,” I said, not bothering to remove the irritation from my voice.
“Well, ever since your… ever since you’ve been gone, I’ve been studying them. I managed to amass a considerable amount of data and I believe I can predict when they’ll appear.”
It was Kaylee’s turn to appear incredulous. “Magicians have been trying to understand Florida’s Thinnings for hundreds of years, yet you’re telling me you figured them out all on your own?”
Adam played in the sand with his feet. “Uh, sort of.”
“What’s the big deal, you two?” Little Ed asked knocking his heel against the ground a few times to push his foot back into the hard rubber sole. “Dad used to talk about the possibility of doing that, maybe Adam here solved it.”
“Well, it wasn’t just me…”
Both Kaylee and I raised an eyebrow and turned our attention to the junior Magician. “Who helped you?”
“I wouldn’t say it was a who, more a what.” Adam continued to draw in the sand with his feet.
Now it was time for the resident junior Demon Hunter to get concerned. “You didn’t make a deal with a Demon, did you?”
“No,” Adam said, suddenly perking up and shaking his head. “I used the cloud.”
Kaylee looked up at the thin stratus clouds high overhead. “Odd, I would never have thought clouds were tied to Thinnings.”
“That’s not what he’s saying,” I said, marginally surprised at how little technical knowledge the Swamp Witch possessed.
“No?”
“No. He’s talking about massive computers as large as whole city blocks.”
“Gene’s right,” Adam said, now much more interested in explaining his theory. “Specifically, I’ve been working on a simple artificial intelligence and merging it with a golem spell to produce a—”
Kaylee sprung at Adam so fast I could barely get between her and the pudgy young man. “Who told you it was safe to build a golem? Who?”
Adam’s face lost most of its color and he took a few steps back, clinging to his backpack straps like a life preserver. “I… I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”
“Well, it is a big deal—a very big deal.”
Even though I was remarkably unhappy with Adam, I wasn’t about to let the softy get brow beat by Kaylee. I stepped in to talk her down.
“Golems are technically allowed if your master does not expressly forbid them. Did I expressly forbid self-directional, autonomous, animated non-living tissue?”
Adam scrunched up his face as if processing my choice of words. “No…”
“Then you may make a golem.”
“Well I already did.”
You aren’t making this easy.
Adam retrieved a small, rubbery action figure from his backpack. The muscular little man had thick corded legs and arms like tiny tree trunks. He wasn’t much for clothing, instead preferring a tightly wrapped set of what looked like performance swimwear.
“What is that?”
Adam beamed. “This is—”
“That is the single greatest wrestler in the history of televised bloodsport…” Little Ed said, his words dripping with reverence.
&nb
sp; “You turned a wrestling doll into a golem?” I said, not sure whether I was impressed or mortified.
Adam shook his head. “No, I turned an action figure into a golem, and I pumped him full of calculations on Thinnings I created from the cloud.”
The Swamp Witch shook her head. “Does anyone have a clue what he’s saying?”
“Look, it’ll make more sense if I show you.” Adam adjusted the arms and legs of the tiny muscle man into position.
Kaylee frowned. “Please tell me this is PG.”
Adam nodded. “Of course. This is ‘The Muscles That Tussles.’ He’s strictly above board.”
Somewhere inside this half of my soul a small piece of my childhood died a terrible and horrifying death.
Apparently satisfied ‘The Muscles’ was in the right position, Adam placed him on the ground.
“Oh man,” Little Ed said, leaning forward. “Don’t tell me you start him with the catch phrase.”
Adam nodded vigorously.
I need to get these two a room.
“May I?”
My apprentice spread his arms wide. “Go for it.”
Kaylee placed her staff against the young Demon Hunter’s chest. “I think not.”
“Why? It’s no big—”
The Swamp Witch’s eyes reminded me of Porter’s for a brief moment. “Golems are not something to fool around with. I’m not going to have any child of mine even hinting at such a thing.”
Little Ed’s face turned bright red. “You don’t wanna tussle with these muscles.”
The Magick was subtle, but it was there. Adam had clearly been practicing since we’d last been together, and his little rubber doll was proof of that.
“You know what time it is?” the remarkable little wrestler rumbled from deep in his Magickally enhanced belly. “It’s time to party!”
Not a one of us moved.
Adam smiled like the cat that ate the canary. “That means there're no Thinnings nearby.”
“I could have told you that,” Kaylee said, throwing her arms in the air.
Adam deflated like someone had let the air out of his hoodie. “Well, it’s a work in progress. The algorithms aren’t perfect yet, and the neural network hasn’t converged on a perfect set of weightings for predictive analysis—”
Beaten Path Page 14
