The Book of Lies

by Melissa McShane

  “I couldn’t help thinking how you’d feel if you found out some other way,” I’d said.

  Judy had nodded and said, “Thanks for trusting me,” and that had been it, except for her frequent reminders that I needed to find a better solution than not telling people and renaming my boyfriend’s contact number in my phone. I knew it was just Judy’s way of showing affection, but sometimes it got on my nerves.

  Viv danced past me, holding her mug close to her heart. “I love cider, it’s so Christmassy,” she sang.

  I followed her more slowly, but came up short when the bells above the door rang. “I’m here for an augury,” said the tall, willowy woman who entered. Between her paleness, and her white floor-length skirt and white fur-trimmed parka, she looked like an ice-touched elf queen. I remembered her, though I didn’t recall her name; she’d been one of my former employer’s blackmail victims. Did she think I knew her secret? She certainly behaved as unselfconsciously as if she didn’t.

  “Certainly,” I said, taking the augury slip from her white-gloved hand. “Just a moment.” I took three steps away, between the bookcases, and entered the timeless silence of the oracle.

  The air within was cooler than the rest of the store and smelled, not of pine and cinnamon, but of ripe apples. Abernathy’s enjoyed experimenting with fragrances. Here, the blue glow of twilight was tinged with gold, and motes of dust floated past, gleaming within the last rays of the sun as if the overcast had cleared.

  I paused with my hand on a nearby shelf and breathed it all in. I never felt so at peace as when I was within the oracle, being its hands as it chose the books to answer customers’ questions. I’d never had an augury for myself—that, too, was against the Accords—but I knew what it was like to give someone the answer to an important question, and it filled me with joy.

  This time, it took me a few minutes to find the woman’s augury, which turned out to be a book called Fascinating Womanhood. Interesting title. I brought it back to the front counter and found the woman waiting for me, standing perfectly still in the center of the space between the counter and the shelves as if she’d been drawn there by a magnet. She turned her pale face toward me, unsmiling, as I approached. “$1000,” I said.

  She reached into a fur-trimmed white purse and withdrew a white checkbook and a black pen. “A check is acceptable?”

  “Yes, unless it bounces, and then Abernathy’s won’t accept any more from you.”

  “It won’t bounce.” She filled it out, tore it off and handed it to me. Georgina Eisen. I vaguely remembered the name.

  “I’ll write you a receipt.” I scribbled her name quickly in the ledger under the antique cash register, then pulled out the receipt book. “Looks like it’s started snowing,” I said, feeling an obscure need to keep the conversation going.

  “It has,” Eisen said. “Hunting will be poor tonight.”

  “You’re a hunter?”

  “My husband. Though with these new attacks, hunting isn’t the most dangerous game in town anymore, no matter the weather.”

  “What new attacks?”

  The pale face made the faintest look of surprise. “Familiars attacking their masters, of course.”

  “Oh, that. That rumor goes around every couple of months. It’s not true. Familiars can’t break containment.”

  Eisen raised her eyebrow, again the faintest of expressions, as if her face really was made of ice. “You’re not a Nicollien,” she said.

  “No, but I know history. It’s been almost seventy-five years since the first familiars were harnessed, and not one has ever escaped or attacked a human.”

  “Believe that if you like, but the news out of Philadelphia says otherwise.” She tilted her head as if listening to distant music. I handed her the receipt. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Merry Christmas.”

  “Is it?” She peered at me nearsightedly. Uncomfortable, I flapped my hand in the direction of the Munchkin tree. “Oh. Yes. Merry Christmas.”

  I watched her through the glass as she got into a small white car parked in the spot magically reserved for Abernathy’s customers and drove away. I wasn’t sure if I admired her commitment to her signature color or just thought it was weird. Shrugging, I walked back to the break room, where Judy and Viv were drinking from steaming mugs and talking rapidly about some designer I’d never heard of. “Half an hour to go,” I said. “I’m impatient for the day to be over.”

  “What should we do?” Viv said. “Three young, beautiful women, free and unattached—well, two of us are—with plenty of time and money—well, one of us does—isn’t it funny that the one of us who’s loaded is also the one with a hot boyfriend?”

  “I’m not loaded,” I said, “I’m comfortably well-off.”

  “You earn commissions on your auguries,” Judy pointed out.

  “It’s not a commission, and it’s only one percent. Hardly the stuff fortunes are made of.”

  “Well, you can afford to buy dinner, and then we can see a movie,” Viv said.

  The door bells jingled. This time of year, it was hard not to hear it as a Christmas sound. This time of day, it was hard not to hear it as a funeral dirge. I sighed. “Last one of the day, if I’m lucky.”

  The man waiting by the door was, to my surprise, a Nicollien. The Nicollien and Ambrosite leaders, William Rasmussen and Ryan Parish, had lessened tensions between their people by decreeing that Nicolliens would only use Abernathy’s in the morning and Ambrosites in the afternoon. I’d told everyone I wasn’t enforcing the rule, but magi in general cared more about their leaders’ dictates than the opinion of a custodian, even if it was my Neutrality they were making rules about. Jeremiah was an exception. “Freddy. I’m surprised to see you here at this time.”

  “I hope you were serious about not enforcing the time constraints. I need this augury and I don’t want to wait until Monday.” Freddy Whittaker was someone I considered a friend, even if his enormous familiar made me nervous. I glanced beyond him through the window to where the thing waited; no familiars were allowed inside Abernathy’s. The monster was a horrible creature with a massive black and violet carapace that gleamed with a black-light radiance, hundreds of shark-like serrated black teeth, and a dozen tiny eyes glittering with malice. Everyone else would see a huge, snarling Rottweiler or Doberman, but I, as Abernathy’s custodian, could see through the illusion. Lucky me.

  The familiar saw me watching and made a leap at the window, but was brought up short by the leash tethering it to the lamp post. I shied away involuntarily.

  “It’s all right, Helena, Vicious can’t hurt you,” Freddy said, holding out an augury slip for me to take. “Though I admit I’ve never seen it so eager to reach someone. You must look good to it.”

  “That’s not comforting.” The familiar made another lunge, and howled in frustration, a terrible sound that made me long for some kind of weapon to defend myself. “Why’d you bring it, anyway?”

  “I’m going out of town for a few days and I don’t like to leave it alone in my house. It’s torn up furniture before.”

  “That makes sense. I’ll hurry and get this for you.” But I took one last look at Vicious, whose black tongue lolled out of its mouth, dripping lilac-colored goo, and thought of what Georgina Eisen had said. It wasn’t at all hard to understand how rumors like that one got started.

  2

  I stood by my living room window, looking down on the snow-covered cars lining the street. We didn’t usually get this much snow in December, and it made me grateful I lived above my work—no slipping around on the narrow Portland streets, no inching along the freeway at rush hour. The Christmas lights I’d put up around my window lit my hands, holding a mug of what was left of the cider. Sunday nights were one of my favorite times, when the weekend was winding down and I started looking forward to Monday morning. It was so peaceful even without the hush of a billion falling snowflakes.

  I let the curtains fall and reclined on my maroon velvet
couch, leaning back against the armrest and putting my feet up on the cushions. Malcolm might call soon, which would make this evening even better. I could watch a movie, or read a book. Anything to avoid thinking about the Conference of Neutralities, which started tomorrow afternoon and bode well to ruin my calm if I got to worrying about it again.

  My phone rang, and I snatched it up. Judy. I suppressed a twinge of disappointment. “Hello, Judy.”

  “Have you heard the news?”

  “What news?”

  “The worst kind. Father just confirmed these rumors coming out of the East Coast are true. A familiar escaped containment and attacked its master.”

  “No. That’s impossible.”

  “Apparently not. Do you realize what this means?”

  “Disaster. Do they know what caused it?”

  “Not yet. They think it was the binding in the harness—it makes the most sense. Helena, this is disastrous.”

  I took a drink of cider, trying to calm myself. “It’s just one familiar, though, right?”

  Judy let out a low hah. “One is more than enough for the Ambrosites to be up in arms about how they were right all along.”

  “But you’re not a Nicollien.”

  “You think that matters? If it isn’t a lone occurrence, and it happens here, we’re both going to be in the middle of the conflict. And I have to live with Father, who’s about two seconds away from packing up and flying to Philadelphia to consult with the Nicollien East Coast leader. I keep telling him he needs to stay close to home in case the worst happens.”

  “You’re right. If familiars start breaking containment here, the Nicolliens will need his leadership.” Familiars getting free to attack people, savage them with tooth and claw and drain the magic from their bodies, was one of my nightmares. “Did the familiar kill its master?”

  “Yes. Horribly, so we hear.” Judy paused, and in the background I heard William Rasmussen shouting about something. “Helena, what if it happens here?”

  “I don’t know. What would they do? The Nicolliens?”

  “They might have to start destroying familiars proactively.”

  “That’s not so horrible, is it? If the alternative is human death?”

  “It would weaken the Nicollien hunting teams significantly.” Judy drew a deep breath. “This is ridiculous. I’m panicking over nothing. Really, what are the odds that a harness failure would happen more than once? And if it is harness failure, we make our own, so whatever happened in Philadelphia couldn’t affect us.”

  “That’s a better way to look at it.” I took my empty mug to the sink and rinsed it out. “You remember the store hours are reduced this week?”

  “Yes, and for me it’s like a nice Christmas holiday. I’m not so sure you benefit.”

  “Working ten to two, then going to the conference from three to eight, and then there’s the after-hours mingling…it does sound like work. Lucia said most of the networking happens after eight. I have no idea what kind of networking custodians do.”

  “Bitch about the Board of Neutralities, probably. Look, I have to go, Father’s calling me. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I sat on my couch after she hung up and cradled my phone in my hands. I’d never been so grateful not to be a magus as I was right then. The Ambrosite and Nicollien split had been over the use of familiars, with the Nicolliens insisting they were a powerful weapon and the Ambrosites saying they were too dangerous to be used. I was certain Judy was right, and this one incident was more than enough for the Ambrosites to renew their charge that the Nicolliens should give up all the familiars and fight invaders only with magic and weapons as they did. I’d seen familiars fight invaders, and they were effective, reducing the risk to their human handlers, but familiars also terrified me, and I couldn’t fully support either side in their argument. As was appropriate for a custodian of a Neutrality.

  My phone rang again, and once again I felt a pang of disappointment. “Hi, Viv.”

  “What are you doing? Not watching one of those old black and white movies you’re nuts about, are you?”

  “No, just waiting for…just waiting.”

  “Malcolm hasn’t called, has he?”

  “I’m just as happy to talk to you.”

  “That’s a nice white lie. I’ll take it. Hel, you don’t think I’m frivolous, do you?”

  “What? Of course not!”

  “But I am a little. I like to party, and I have a hard time being serious about things—”

  I sighed. “Viv, did you talk to your mother again? You know that always makes you question your life choices, when really you’re a wonderful person who makes life fun for everyone around you.”

  “It’s not about Mom. It’s…you’re going to think this is stupid.”

  “I promise I won’t.”

  “No, you really will. I think it’s stupid.”

  “Viv, just tell me.”

  There was a long pause. “What do you think of Jeremiah?”

  Hah. I was right. “I like him a lot. You’re interested in him, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. It’s probably just his smile—but I never have trouble telling a man I’m interested, and now I don’t know what to say!”

  “Just ask him out, Viv. I bet he’d say yes.”

  “But he probably thinks I’m crazy. I know I talk like I’m crazy when he’s around. And he’s a magus, and he kills monsters…those are serious things, and I’m not like that. I have pink hair!” Viv’s voice, higher pitched than mine, nearly became a shriek.

  “This is sounding like you’re thinking of more than your usual fling.”

  “I don’t know if I am.”

  She sounded so forlorn, so unlike herself, that my heart went out to her. “Viv, Jeremiah wore a T-shirt last week with a flamingo on it that said ‘Majestically Awkward.’ He’s not that serious. And these days he comes into the store later than he used to, I think because he’s looking for you.”

  “Really?”

  “It’s not like I’ve asked him or anything, but I really do think you have a chance.”

  Viv sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation. “I haven’t felt this awkward in years. I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe because you’ve finally met someone you could see yourself with indefinitely? You’ve never had that before.”

  “Maybe. You don’t think it’s bad that I’ve—”

  “Viv. You see the best in a lot of different men, and you’re comfortable with your emotions. This is not a bad thing. Are you sure you haven’t been talking to your mom?”

  Viv laughed. “I don’t suppose you have his number? If I call him now, I’ll stop freaking out about it.”

  “It’s in his record downstairs. But it’s a violation of his privacy if I give it to you, even if I suspect he wouldn’t mind.”

  “I’ll just have to wait until I see him again. If I survive that long.”

  “Patience, grasshopper.”

  “I am a master of patience. And I can tell you want me off the line so your monster hunter can call you. It must be driving you nuts that you can’t see him.”

  “A little. But I’m a master of patience too.”

  Viv laughed again and said good night. I went back to lying on the couch. Viv and Jeremiah. Wasn’t she taller than he was? And normally she went for the burly type. But attraction was what it was, and I wanted Viv to be happy, whether that meant a string of boyfriends or a single steady one.

  The phone rang again. Finally. “Hi.”

  “I can’t talk long, but I wanted to hear your voice,” Malcolm said. I heard a distant humming in the background, low and throbbing. “It may be a while before I can call you again.”

  “A while? That sounds bad. I wish I could think of something romantic and memorable to say.”

  “Tell me you love me.”

  He sounded unusually tense, which propelled me upright. “I love you. Are you all right?”

  “Under a lot of stress. I’m abo
ut to board a plane that looks like it was built during the Eisenhower administration, heading off for—never mind, I can’t tell you. But for some place not very pleasant.”

  “I’m sorry. I take it this is for work?”

  “Yes. Things have gotten complicated. You heard about Philadelphia?”

  “Judy told me.” The thought of loose familiars made me even more uneasy than Malcolm’s too-serious tone.

  “It’s not just Philadelphia. I’ve heard of at least two more incidents and I’m going to check one of them out. Stupid Nicolliens and their insistence on keeping dangerous creatures in their own homes…it’s just ridiculous.” I’d never heard him sound so frustrated.

  “What exactly is happening? Judy said the bindings failed.”

  “I don’t know much more than that. The magic that prevents a familiar from draining a human is created by a bone magus, and it’s complicated enough that I don’t understand it. But it alters an invader to make it more like a human, and the harness they put on it works like an aegis in reverse—prevents them using magic instead of permitting it the way a human’s aegis does. My understanding is the alteration magic is failing, so the binding is intact but no longer has anything to attach to.”

  “I think I understand. Malcolm, how serious is this?”

  He was quiet for a long time. “I’d like to tell you it’s under control,” he finally said, “but I don’t want to lie to you. If the problem persists, or worse, accelerates, it could be very serious. You need to stay in warded places. Don’t walk anywhere if you can help it.”

  “You don’t think it could happen here?”

  “There’s no reason to believe otherwise. And we already know invaders are attracted to you. Just promise me you’ll behave as if the worst has already happened.”

  “I promise. Trust me, I don’t want to encounter any familiar, even one on a leash. They scare me.”

  “That’s because you’re sensible. I wish I could be home with you.”