by Tara Lain
“Mew.”
“Oh hell no.” Dash scooted back on his butt.
Hillebrand smiled tightly. “So you’ll risk the life of a master mage but not a worthless cat?”
Dash leaped to his feet and brushed off the seat of his jeans. “Fuck that! Nardo either agrees to risk himself in my power or he can break out some other way. That so-called worthless cat didn’t agree to anything.”
“You’re a strange enigma.” He returned the kitten to the carrier.
“Simple humanity.”
Hillebrand wiped his hands. “But then you’re not human, are you?”
Dash ignored him. “Where’d you get the cat?”
“The local pound.” He shrugged. “I’ll find someone to take it back.”
“Give it to me.”
“You don’t need responsibility for a stupid animal. You have enough on your plate.”
“Let me worry about that.” He extended his hand and, with a frown, Hillebrand handed over the carrier.
Dash peered inside into two huge, glowing golden eyes. Reminds me of— Suddenly, his whole mind was filled with Jazz, Jazz’s concern, his caring, and above all some formless message. BeBop. Don’t get BeBop.
“Dash, what’s wrong?”
Don’t get BeBop. We’ll do it. Love you. Love—
“Dash!” Hillebrand started shaking his shoulder.
“What? Oh sorry.” He set down the carrier and sat next to it. “I had some weird flashback moment.”
Hillebrand squatted. “What kind of flashback?”
Think fast. “I was like half in my room and half here. Kind of caught in the middle.”
“Yes, you’ve been working really hard. It’s probably better if you don’t do another teleportation right away. Give your cells a chance to solidify.”
Dash snorted. “That’s a little scary.” He stuck a finger through the wire of the carrier and scratched the little furball behind his overlarge ear.
Hillebrand sat cross-legged in the dirt and said sincerely, “So it’s time to get serious. We want to move on this operation soon. Very soon. We need to decide if we can send you in alone to bring Nardo out, or if we use you in a vanguard of our club members who will launch a full-scale extraction.”
Dash tried to look very serious, not freaked. “People are likely to get hurt in the second approach.”
“Yes, it’s part of the territory.”
Dash inhaled and let out the breath noisily. “I can do it.” He looked up and met Hillebrand’s eyes. “I know you want me to experiment with something alive. But I know, I can feel, that the principle is the same no matter what I’m carrying.”
Hillebrand nodded slowly.
Dash rushed ahead before he lost his nerve. “The danger’s going to be if Nardo suddenly tries to wrest control or takes over the teleportation. I mean, I can imagine that there are curbs on his power where he is, so I’ll start out with full control. But what happens if in the middle he gets his power back and we wind up in some whirlwind of molecules that can’t be recovered?”
Hillebrand frowned. “I’ll try to get a message to Nardo. It’s not easy since so few mages have access to him.”
“How much opposition am I likely to encounter when I get in there? Is there something in the place itself that dampens Nardo’s power, or are the spells specifically on him?”
“You really have thought about this.”
“Hell, getting out alive seems like a good plan. If I get in there and can’t get either of us out, I haven’t exactly achieved the goal.”
Hillebrand smiled tightly as he said, “Once inside, you won’t be entirely on your own.”
Tingles crept up Dash’s spine. This he needed to know. “How will I figure out who’s on my side?”
“We’ll work out a signal.”
“A secret handshake?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Something like that.” Hillebrand stood and dusted himself off. “So rest or practice, whichever you need most. We’ll establish the final timeline tonight.”
“Tonight?” Don’t sound stressed. Don’t sound stressed.
Hillebrand gazed at him. “Yes. See you at eight.” He walked out of the obstacle course.
Dash picked up the cat carrier and stared inside. The big gold eyes blinked. “Mew.”
“Swell. I needed someone else depending on me.” But he grinned. With a deep breath, he clutched the carrier to his chest, offered a passing prayer to the goddess—who had to like kittens, right?—focused his mind on that living room where he’d seen Jazz and his friends, and shot energy into his extremities.
“Me—” That was all the kitten got out before the universal mixing machine grabbed them and tossed them onto a nice rug in the middle of— a living room. Empty, and despite a familiar feeling, he was pretty sure he’d never been there before.
Quickly he looked at the cat, who bared her teeth and hissed.
“Don’t blame you.” Staring around, he dragged himself up. The apartment looked a lot like the one he’d seen Jazz and others in, but… different.
Then he inhaled. Oh man, the place smelled a lot like pizza and even more like Jazz’s light aftershave. So this is Jazz’s apartment. He inhaled again. Next question on the table, how the hell did I get here?
Before he’d teleported, he’d pictured the room he’d seen with Jazz in it. Maybe, just maybe, his focus had been more on Jazz than on the place, and the destination came out as Jazz’s apartment. Wow, the feeling of Jazz in the room made him want to roll on the carpets and furniture like a dog.
“No time.” He forced himself to cross into the kitchen and check the cabinets. Remarkable amount of food for two college students. After a quick inventory—bingo. He pulled down a can of tuna, popped the top, put some on a small plate, added water to a bowl, and took both back to the kitten.
When he opened the crate door, the critter emerged looking a little rocky, but it pounced on the food and water.
Dash found a pizza box, shredded up a newsprint advertising flyer he found on the counter, and introduced the kitten to that. It seemed to catch on quick.
Dash stopped and looked around. “How did I manage to choose a moment when they aren’t here?” He shook his head. A notebook stood open on an end table with rows of scratchings in Carla’s messy handwriting. Dash ripped out a page found a pencil and wrote, Any minute. Need plan. How about here? PS. Enjoy your cat.
Have to get back. Don’t want Hillebrand asking too many questions. Dash swallowed hard, fighting the dread that wanted to choke him. When he’d fought Nardo in the summer, it had been thrust on him. He hadn’t really chosen. This moment was 100 percent different—a series of life-altering and maybe life-ending decisions fraught with the chance for fucking up at every turn. He didn’t want to fight Nardo. He wanted to get Jazz and run to someplace safe, even though he knew that if Nardo got free with all that support behind him, there was no safe pace for Dash, Jazz, or any wizard. Maybe not for any human either.
A soft rattling of the doorknob behind Dash made him whip in a circle, and before he even thought, he slammed a warding spell on the door. Leave it to his werewolf to not think of such a thing.
The door rattle got more emphatic, and then Dash heard a soft expletive from the hall. Warding was a junior wizard power, but whoever was out there didn’t seem able to break Dash’s spell. Good. He upped the spell to automatically release at the touch of Jazz’s hand, gathered heat in his chest and teleported himself back to where he least wanted to go—Arcantaria.
JAZZ SUCKED in a soft breath as he stared at Lysandra trudging stolidly toward him from the portal in the arch—alone. Her frown made people step out of her way.
“Shit,” Jazz whispered.
That clued in Carla, who was talking with Dij and Fatima as they drank their second or third lattes. She scooted closer to Jazz on the bench. “No BeBop.” There was a quaver in her voice. This crap was getting real.
When Lysandra approached, Jazz stood and made a s
pot for her on the bench. She immediately sat, but she said nothing.
Carla had the least patience. “What happened?”
Lysandra exhaled. “I’m having trouble sorting this out, but the facts are that somehow BeBop broke into the Pentaculum.” She glanced up at them. “The prison where they keep mage prisoners. He burst through, not into the receiving room where those going and coming are vetted and checked. No, he literally rolled into a MagiCouncil meeting being held in a private room at 5:00 a.m. that no one should have been aware of.”
Carla made a snorting sound that might have been a laugh, and Lysandra gave her a sharp look. Lysandra continued, “On top of that, he announced that he had no idea how he got there, but it was essential that he tell them that there’s a conspiracy to break Nardo out of the Pentaculum, and the plot has been generated at Arcantaria. How does he know this? Again, he can’t tell them that.” She leaned against the back of the bench and sighed. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you I could be a cross between Gandhi and the goddess herself and they wouldn’t have released BeBop into my custody.”
Jazz shook his head. “This is bad.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
JAZZ BLEW out air. “Very bad.”
Lysandra nodded. “Yes, it actually is. Even if you hadn’t warned me, I’d have suspected something was going on when I met with the MagiCouncil. I believe they know more than they’re saying. It may even be that they’re aware of the plot but unsure what to do about it.”
Carla scowled. “Why? What the hell? Isn’t that their job?”
“The well-being of the magic world is their job, so to speak, but it may be that they disagree as to what’s best for magery.”
Jazz said, “You think some of them support Nardo?”
She nodded.
Carla threw her arms up and bounded to her feet. “How the hell can they be so dumb? A rock could see that dude’s only out for himself.”
“We’ve had a more threatening view of him than most people, Carla.” Lysandra exhaled slowly. “Power’s very seductive, and sadly he has a lot of that. It may also be that the forces allied against the council are very powerful. I haven’t kept abreast of changes at Arcantaria. Stupidly, I’ve been like a lot of mages and assumed that time-honored things always stay the same.”
Jazz muttered, “This means when it all hits the fan in the prison, BeBop’s going to be right in the middle of it.” He folded his hands over the back of his neck and pulled, trying to relieve the stress. “And if there’s one thing Dash doesn’t need, it’s somebody besides himself to protect inside that prison.”
“How’s Dash going to get inside the Pentaculum?” Lysandra looked very suspicious.
Jazz stared at her levelly. Do I trust her? Yeah, he trusted her as much as he did any person motivated by power, but he didn’t have a lot of choice. They needed allies, and she was the only likely prospect. “He’s going to teleport in and try to carry Nardo out.”
“What?” Her mouth literally hung open.
“Yeah. See, these dudes in Arcantaria may have a lot of backing, but Dash is one of a kind. So they’ve convinced themselves that he’s on their side.” Jazz puffed his cheek. “Or at the worst, they’re pretending they believe him. So instead of them sending in this whole army, he’s going in to get Nardo.”
“But teleportation? Since when?”
“Since Arcantaria. This teacher who’s more or less leading the rebellion taught him.”
Lysandra looked like a pissed-off mentor but was clearly still impressed. “And Dash thinks he can carry a grown man out of there with him?”
“That’s still a bit of an unknown.”
Now she really had big eyes. “But he’s going to try it?”
“Last I heard.”
“Dear gods.”
“I’m trying not to break into Arcantaria too much. We’ve nearly gotten caught a couple times, and I don’t want to take the risk. We don’t know when this is all going to go down.”
Lysandra touched his wrist. “Will you call me as soon as you know anything?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
“I’ll keep trying to get BeBop out. Maybe that will divert some attention from whatever Dash is doing.” Lysandra looked at each of them individually. “Thank you for calling me. I wish I could promise a positive outcome, but I’ll do my best.”
Carla frowned. “We’ve got to have a positive outcome. I saw some of those assholes at work, and trust me, way too much is at stake if Nardo gets in power.” She turned on her sneaker and started toward the apartment.
Jazz said, “I’ll call you when I know.” Gathering Dij and Fatima, he led them away from the only help they might get.
They didn’t talk much on the trudge back to the apartment, but they also didn’t hop the train. Maybe the press of strangers that promised was too much for all of them.
As they approached the apartment building, Carla nudged Jazz. For a second, he didn’t get it, then he shrugged off his overwhelm. “Duh. Sorry.” He stepped into the bushes and became invisible. Yeah, a piece of his brain wanted to bash Micel and anyone he had with him, but then a piece of his brain was nuts.
Jazz raced up the stairs at wolf speed, letting the tromping of the girls’ feet cover any whisper of his steps. He waited at the top. Carla said, “Come on over to our place for a while.”
Dij and Fatima nodded. They both looked distracted and more than a little freaked. Hell, they were smart females. They knew they were facing an enemy of undefined proportions, but likely the word they were looking for was “huge.”
Carla inserted her key, turned, and—nothing happened. She frowned but tried again. Nothing. She stomped. “What the hell’s happening now? Did Said lock us out? We paid the rent early!” She spun. “Ja—” She caught herself. “I wonder if it’s this key?”
Dij said, “Come on over to our place while we call Said.” She led them to her apartment and held the door for Jazz before Fatima and Carla walked through.
As soon as the door closed, Jazz dropped the invisibility, grabbed his key from his pocket, and handed it to Carla. Carla opened the door and said, “I’m going to try one more time.” Then she went over and slid his key into the lock. It turned like hers had, but nothing happened.
Swamped by intuition, Jazz whispered to Dij, “Go block the peephole view from Odan’s apartment. Make it look accidental.”
She said, “Oh no. This is so strange. Have you jiggled it?” She hurried over and backed up, practically touching the other apartment door so that anyone looking out would see the back of her head.
Jazz raced from the apartment, grabbed the key from Carla, and reached for the door. Before he even touched it, the door swung open a couple of inches, and he ran through.
Dij declared loudly. “See. Jiggling always works.”
They crowded into the apartment. Carla closed the door hard and pressed her back against it. “What’s going on?”
“Mew.”
Like one multiheaded body, they all turned toward the couch where a tiny brown-and-gold furperson with huge gold eyes stared at them, then proceeded to lick its paw and wipe it over a face in a way that could only be defined as excessive cuteness.
Jazz put a fist on his hip. “Okay, so Fatima’s powers turned Catimouse into a live animal.”
Fatima grinned but said, “I’m fairly sure it doesn’t work that way.”
“And Catimouse is right here, safe and sound,” Carla said, waving the stuffed animal at Jazz. “What made you think to try the key yourself?”
Jazz shrugged. “I had a feeling that maybe the door had been warded, in which case it probably could only be opened by one person.”
“In other words, someone’s been here.”
“Kitten delivery dot com?”
Fatima said, “Uh, I think this may explain it.” She held up a piece of notebook paper.
They crowded around her. Carla said, “It’s Dash, right?”
Jazz nodded, disappointment chok
ing him. Dash had dared to come to the apartment, and Jazz hadn’t even been there.
Dij spoke softly. “I think he worded this with the idea that someone else might see it, so he was careful.”
“Yeah.” Carla wandered over absently, picked the kitten up, and began scratching under its chin with one finger. Never had there been a more willing recipient of pets. “But Dash must have warded the door.”
Jazz nodded. “But he probably still thought that someone powerful could break the spell. Micel’s not all that, but Dash doesn’t know it.”
“Where in hell do you think he got a cat?” By now, the tiny beast was purring so loud they could all hear it over their conversation.
Dij smiled tightly. “We probably won’t know until we see Dash, but meanwhile we must deal with the rest of his message.”
They all stared at the lined paper like it might bite them.
Carla swallowed loud enough to hear but always the brave one, said, “Any minute’s got to mean the whole rescue scenario’s going down soon. Like maybe today?” She glanced at Jazz. “Holy crap.”
Jazz said, “He was probably here an hour or more ago. The fact that he’s saying we need a plan suggests we have at least a little time to put one in motion. So I’d guess maybe tomorrow. Tonight at the earliest.”
Fatima asked, “What does he mean by how about here?”
Jazz looked up at her calm layered over worry and fear. “I think he’s assuming he’s going to teleport Nardo out of the prison. Maybe he means to divert the delivery of said villain from Arcantaria to this apartment.”
Carla whispered, “Holy crap.”
Jazz took a deep breath, walked over, and collapsed on the couch. Carla sat beside him, and he idly petted the kitten as he said, “Here’s the thing, guys. This isn’t your fight. I mean, last summer, we all got together and battled forces that were trying to hurt my grandfather, who we all care about. It turned out to be a big deal, but we didn’t know that going in. We all felt like we did a good thing, but that doesn’t make us Batman and Wonder Woman. Dusans have their own responsibilities.” He nodded at Fatima and Dij, then looked at Carla. “Humans are only tangentially involved in this mess. Yes, I know the plot’s all about making mages stronger and standing against the so-called human threat, but face it. There’s still way more of you than there are of them. A few precautions and humans may not be aware of the existence of wizards for, like, ever.”
