“Excuse me, Ms. Davies, but I don’t think you’re qualified to say that,” said the magus.
“Because I’m not a fighter? That’s true, but I killed three invaders on the way here, and I’m willing to kill more.” Confidence was replacing my initial reluctance. “I say we find the kitchens, arm ourselves, and then protect the stone magi as they do their work. But I’m not going to sit still and wait for the familiars to overwhelm us. Who’s with me?”
Hands went up here and there, twenty, thirty, thirty-five. “How do you shut down the wards?” I asked the magus, who looked as if his beloved puppy had turned around and bitten a chunk out of his hand. “I don’t need the details of the magic, just how many of you magi does it take and in how many places?”
“If we weaken the wards at two key places, the whole thing will collapse,” he said. “But I really can’t let you do this. If Abernathy’s—”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re all in danger here,” I said. “If we do nothing, Abernathy’s will certainly be missing a custodian by tomorrow. And I’m not going to sit around and wait for that to happen. So it takes two of you?”
“Three at each place, and we need the familiars held off for five minutes while we work the magic.” He sounded defeated.
“We can do that.” I waved my arm, beckoning my volunteers. “We need to leave the defenders of this room as many weapons as we can spare. I don’t suppose anyone knows where the kitchen is?”
Two people indicated that they knew the location of the kitchen. “We go as a group until we get to the kitchen, then—what’s your name?—Rufus and Maryanne will divide us to be their defenders while they remove the wards. Okay? Then let’s make this quick.”
We left Kilimanjaro and headed for the stairs leading to the lobby, with me in the middle of the mob, buoyed along by its motion. Kitchen, then wards—what? What the hell was I thinking? I was no fighter, no one who could lead a posse of custodians on a suicide mission to fight monsters that could kill us with a touch. What on earth had possessed me to make that speech?
I almost turned around and went back. But it was too late for that. I was nominally the head of this enthusiastic mob, and I had to lead it. Even if that was the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Stupider than assuming the oracle’s body? Or facing down invaders armed with nothing but sharpened rebar? Or going to the house of a presumed serial killer armed with nothing but your wit? Yes, this definitely qualified.
The lobby was eerily still and hadn’t taken a fraction of the damage the mezzanine had. The path to the doors was free, and the doors rattled occasionally as if someone were slamming into them with a battering ram. I almost trotted across to open them until I saw shadows moving in a funny way to both sides of them. Sticking with the team was good.
A swinging door marked STAFF ONLY led to a white corridor lined with doors, most of which opened on storage rooms filled with canned goods, linens, cleaning supplies, and (in one very cold room) frozen foods. We passed a staff break room and followed our noses to the kitchen, which still smelled good even at nearly midnight. A crumpled heap in one corner turned out to be a dead woman, her face contorted in terror. I heard a couple of people throw up, and had to breathe deeply to keep from joining them. I’d hoped the staff was safe—but that was stupid. Just because they weren’t as appetizing to invaders as a custodian was didn’t mean they weren’t in danger from the familiars’ attacks.
“Knives, carving forks, there are a lot of weapons in here,” I said. My eye was drawn to a huge skillet hanging on the wall, and I remembered Harriet killing Vitriol with her hers. I took it off the wall and hefted it. Oh yes, this felt like a weapon.
All around me people were picking over the utensils and cookware. I went to talk to Rufus. “Where now?”
“We have to get to the basement. The two loci for the magic are at opposite ends of the foundation.”
“Okay. Everyone, let’s split up.”
“Because splitting the party always works so well,” someone muttered, and a couple of people laughed. I didn’t know what was so funny about that, but I understood what he was getting at.
“We have to split up or this won’t work, even if we’re safer as a group. So line up behind Rufus or Maryanne, and follow their lead. Where are your other magi?” I asked Rufus.
“Securely warded near the loci,” he said. “They can’t get out unless we free them.”
“I thought there was no such thing as a personal stone ward.”
“These aren’t personal wards, they’re extensions of the main wards. Our magi are like mosquitoes trapped in amber. Nothing can get them, but they can’t get out.”
“Got it. Free the magi, protect you from being killed, don’t get killed ourselves.”
I was immediately behind Rufus as we left the kitchen for the cargo elevator. My group consisted of eighteen custodians bristling with kitchen implements, and once again I was struck by the absurdity of it all. When this was over, I was going to have a breakdown, because this just wasn’t me. Or maybe it was, and I didn’t know myself as well as I thought. For the moment, I had to behave as if I really was this competent and daring, or it would all fall apart, and people would die, probably starting with me.
The elevator was big enough to take each of our groups all at once. I indicated that Maryanne’s group should go first, as they had farther to go, and we waited tensely for them to reach the basement and send the elevator back up. Somebody shrieked, and we all jumped, weapons ready, but it was just someone brushing someone else’s leg with the handle of a carving fork. Still no familiars emerged.
Finally, the elevator dinged open, and we all shuffled inside, all of us craning our necks to scan the ceiling for attackers. Unlike the passenger elevators above, the cargo elevator roof was a single piece of metal, with no joins to indicate concealed doors or passages. That didn’t stop us being paranoid. Then again, all of us had seen people attacked by familiars, had heard their agonized screams, so maybe it wasn’t paranoia if they really were out to get you. I was pretty sure I’d heard that somewhere before.
The elevator doors slid open, and we moved out into a wide, poorly lit hall with a low ceiling. The walls were white; the ceiling was made of those porous white square tiles that fit into a frame and could easily be knocked out of place by something that wanted to get into the ceiling—or get out of it. Fluorescent tubes flickered like they were auditioning for a part in a low-budget horror film. Once again everyone was looking at the ceiling, brandishing weapons in its direction.
I made myself watch the direction we were going, which meant I was the first to see movement in the distance.
“Watch out!” I shouted, bringing my skillet up, and then it was upon us, rushing Rufus with hands outstretched.
It howled, “Don’t hurt me!”
“Kevin?” I said.
14
“Don’t attack, he’s human!” I shouted. Then I wanted to shrivel up and hide, because those weren’t words you’d normally hear someone saying. But Kevin, stumbling toward me, didn’t take any notice of my unusual phrasing.
“Thank God,” he said. “They killed—what are they? Not dogs—they look like dogs, but they bleed blue—”
“Calm down, Kevin.” I hugged him, felt him trembling with shock. He had blue ichor on his bartender’s shirt and smeared down the side of his face.
Someone behind us screamed, and a fight broke out. I couldn’t see past the bodies in the way, but I could smell the reek of familiars, and my throat closed up against it. Kevin broke away from me and stood, panting, his eyes wide. “It’s another one,” he said. “What the hell are they?”
“Are you all right? You haven’t been injured?”
The noises stopped. “We killed it,” someone shouted.
“We have to keep moving,” Rufus said. “Talk on the way.”
“We can’t bring him with us,” I said, glaring at Rufus and willing him to hear the warning in my voice: we can’t do magic w
ith an ordinary human along.
“He’ll be killed if we don’t protect him,” Rufus said. “We can figure out the rest later.”
“Would somebody explain what the hell is going on?” Kevin shouted.
“They’re…wild dogs, and they…they’re sick,” I said as Rufus headed off along the hallway. I grabbed Kevin’s arm and dragged him along with me. “That’s why their blood is…different.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
An unearthly howl echoed through the hallway, coming from everywhere at once. “They’re on us,” Rufus said. “Watch out!”
I pulled my jolter out and aimed it past Rufus’ right ear. He ducked, and I squeezed. A faint buzz trembled through it, and the familiar I shot staggered but didn’t fall. I shoved the jolter back into my pocket and raised the skillet, screaming defiance at the thing. Another familiar, this one white and ghostlike with fangs like a tiger, leaped on the first one’s back and used it as a springboard, tearing chunks from its body and making it collapse. I stepped up and swung like a Major League batter.
Its skull met the skillet with a tremendous clonk and it dropped. I shouted triumphantly and swung again, crushing the head, which erupted with thick red liquid like strawberry jam. The sight combined with the paint-thinner stench made me gag. Beside me, Kevin leaned over and vomited. “Keep moving!” I said, but he was convulsing and helpless. Custodians streamed past me. I kept a firm grip on Kevin’s arm. “Come on!” I said as soon as I judged he was able to walk. Wiping his mouth, Kevin followed me, and we hurried after the others.
More familiars came after us—how many could there possibly be? I thought Judy had said there were only twenty loose in the city. We’d seen far more than that. I wielded my skillet like a tennis racket, lobbing a small furry body back into two of its companions. They stopped to tear it to pieces, and I gagged again, but didn’t stop running.
Beside me, Kevin was breathing hard, but at least he’d stopped asking questions. I had no idea what I’d say to explain all this. The illusions on the familiars were mostly holding, if he thought they were dogs, but the blood should have looked red…maybe the magi could remove his memories. No, I’d been told mind control was impossible, and memory removal surely counted as that. By this time we were running backwards, stumbling in our haste but afraid to turn our backs on the hallway that never stayed empty for long.
Which is why we ran into the rest of the custodians, literally ran into them and nearly knocked a couple of people down. “Why did you stop?” I gasped.
“We made it. Rufus and the magi are taking down the wards,” a woman said.
“But the familiars are still—” a man I vaguely recognized began.
“They’re coming again!” someone shouted, and I looked down the hall to see half a dozen chitinous or furry or fleshy bodies. The stench was overwhelming.
“Kevin, get back,” I shouted, raising my skillet, though I was shaking so hard I had trouble holding onto it. All around me, jolters went off, taking creatures down, and then a handful of custodians ran past, shouting and wielding knives. I followed them, praying I wasn’t about to die in this basement at the teeth or claws of an invader.
We fought for what felt like hours. My arms were so tired from lifting the heavy skillet, my eyes burned from the acrid smell, and I had blood on me, some of which was human. Custodians fell and couldn’t be dragged to safety because we were all busy staying alive. I wiped sweat out of my eyes and spared a thought for Kevin, who’d disappeared. I hoped he wasn’t dead. That would make explaining a lot easier, I thought, and hated myself for it.
A sudden wind blew through the hallway, carrying with it the smell of roses and sweeping away the stench. The familiars attacking us hesitated, but the wind invigorated us, and we pressed our attack harder. Distantly I heard Rufus shouting something about the wards, but the shrieking of the familiars overrode him. I slammed the edge of the skillet down on a creature’s neck, nearly cutting its head off. I thought they’d be tougher than that.
Someone grabbed me by the shoulders and spun me around. “The wards are down,” Rufus said. “We need to get out of here.”
“They have us trapped,” I said, wiping sweat away again.
“The hunters don’t know we’re down here. We have to get out or we’ll die.” Rufus glanced down the hall and pointed. Two familiars rose up off the floor and slammed into each other. “We magi can clear the way, mostly, now we don’t have to conserve our magic for the wards, but you custodians need to run.”
“We can’t abandon the ones who fell!”
“There’s nothing we can do for them now.”
I swore at him, but he didn’t react. “They’re Wardens,” he said. “They knew the risks. Now, run!”
He gave me a shove, and I stumbled toward a familiar that shrieked at me, but flew away into a wall before it could do more than scratch my face. Custodians began running past me. I saw Kevin in the crush and grabbed his arm. His eyes were still dilated, his face ashy. “Come on!” I shouted, pulling on him, and he stumbled along in my wake.
Once again we were at the rear of the pack, but this time there were two magi behind us, blowing familiars off their feet and tangling their wings. I tripped and went to my knees, and Kevin helped me up. My legs were shaking too much to run. Ahead, I heard voices urging us on, and then we were at the elevator. Hands pulled us in, drawing us to the center of a pile of warm bodies, and I clung to someone without knowing who it was. Kevin still had hold of my hand, and when I looked at him, he was staring into the middle distance, sightless and barely breathing.
“Something bit you,” I said. “It’s—”
“Nothing bit me. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
The elevator opened, and we all spilled out, weapons at the ready. At first I thought the little hall was empty, but then I smelled the familiar reek, and saw a couple of glistening bodies creeping around the far end. I shouted a warning. “Get back to the others!” Rufus called out, and everyone ran.
It was a total rout. Exhausted, demoralized, we all fled as best we could, not stopping to fight unless personally confronted. I held Kevin’s hand tightly as we ran, ducking familiars who flew on stubby wings feathered with spikes and dodging familiars with leathery skin. We burst through the STAFF ONLY door to the lobby—
—and were nearly bowled over by a couple of men in black fatigues wielding steel knives. Kevin and I screamed and ducked. “Get upstairs!” one of the men said, but we didn’t need the warning. The lobby was full of black- and white-suited figures, some of them carrying oddly-shaped guns, others with the long knives. One of them came running toward us, and I nearly fainted with relief—it was Olivia Quincy, the paper magus of Malcolm’s team.
“Upstairs!” she said, putting her arm around my shoulders. “Who’s this?”
“Kevin,” I said, as if that explained anything. Olivia cast her eye over him, but just shrugged.
“You have to get into the big room,” she shouted over the noise and screams. “We’ll put an illusion on it to protect it from the cops.”
“Why?”
“No time. We can’t keep the police out much longer. Just trust me, okay?” She guided us toward the stairs, then left us to ascend alone. I was shaking so hard I could barely walk, and I had to lean on Kevin for support.
The doors to Kilimanjaro stood wide open, and bone magi were tending to wounded custodians. I found a chair that had formerly been part of the barricade and fell into it. Kevin crouched beside me. He looked a lot better, less shocky and more hale than I was.
“Mad dogs,” he said. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” I said, and closed my eyes.
“Those were monsters.”
“Yes.” Judy had said it once: sometimes you had to cut your losses. And Kevin already knew more than he should.
“And you fight monsters.”
“No.”
�
��I saw you—”
“I fought today because I had to. Normally I leave it to the guys with the knives and guns.” As if on cue, a gun went off somewhere in the lobby, and I heard the shrill, pained shriek of a familiar dying.
“I don’t understand any of this, Helena. But I’m damn sure you’re more than a heating and cooling system salesman.”
I opened my eyes and examined him. He no longer looked like he was in shock; he was bright-eyed and his gaze was riveted on me. “I am, but I can’t explain it to you.” Where would I even begin? Did I need permission to tell a stranger all of magery’s deepest held secrets? “I don’t suppose you’ll be satisfied with that?”
“Hell, no. What are wards? And magi?”
I sighed. Cutting my losses. “Magi are people who use magic against monsters like the ones we were fighting. Wards are supposed to keep those monsters out of this hotel. And the rest is too complicated to explain.”
“Magic. Real magic, not card tricks.”
“Yes.”
“Damn.” He rocked back on his heels. “And what are you, if you’re not a magi?”
“Magus. I run a bookstore.”
“A magic bookstore?” His eagerness ratcheted up a couple of notches.
“Yes. Not like in Diagon Alley, which I can tell was going to be your next question.”
“But you sell magic books?”
“Yes, sort of. Kevin, I’m really tired.”
He subsided slightly. “Sorry. I just can’t believe all this is happening. If I came to your bookstore, would you sell me a magic book?”
“I’m not allowed,” I lied. “Only people who know the truth…” I heard what I was saying and groaned inwardly.
“But I know the truth now. Damn, Helena. This is just amazing.” I heard Kevin stand, but my eyelids were too heavy to lift. He said something else, but I slipped into sleep, where everything made sense and no one wanted anything from me.
The Book of Lies Page 16
