The Phoenix Illusion

by Lisa Shearin

  Tam released the containment field as the body collapsed into a man-sized pile of ash. From the word he hissed, he hadn’t gotten what he wanted.

  12

  Rake recovered more quickly than I would have thought, but more slowly than I hoped.

  At least he wasn’t possessed.

  The dead goblin’s soul had vaporized as if it’d been hit by one of Marek Reigory’s fireballs.

  I wasn’t sure if Rake was more bothered that he’d gotten his psychic tuckus handed to him by a dead guy, or by what he’d seen while he was in the dead guy’s head.

  “It’s impossible,” Rake was saying. “Marek and Isidor Silvanus can’t be on the same continent without trying to kill each other, let alone stand next to each other.”

  That was a name I could’ve done without hearing again. Isidor and his little brother Phaeon had masterminded what’d happened at the Regor Regency.

  “They do like killing up close,” Tam admitted. “Though I can say the same for myself, except I merely want to make sure what I kill stays that way.”

  “When Khent saw them, they weren’t killing each other or anyone else,” Rake said. “They were talking to Sandrina Ghalfari, which is worse.”

  “That’s a trio that should not be together.”

  “That’s what I saw,” Rake insisted. “Sandrina gave Isidor a whole trunk full of crystals, and he gave her two chests like the one Tulis saw in my house.”

  “I’m not disputing what you saw, I’m agreeing that it’s bad. Khent’s soul was fading, but you had a good, solid link with him. Any memory you accessed would’ve been accurate.”

  “Did you get any indication of where they were?” Ms. Sagadraco asked Rake.

  “No, but it would have had to have been on this world. Marek can’t leave.”

  “House arrest ankle bracelet?” I asked. “Or in his case, a world arrest ankle bracelet?”

  “It’s more like the goblin version of a tracking microchip, except this one would instantly kill him if he tried to leave the planet.”

  “But when I saw him this morning, he teleported right out of there.”

  “It would have been to somewhere on Earth.”

  “He’s exiled from your world, yet your people gave him free rein on ours.” Ian was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and mood dark.

  I snorted. “Yeah, I don’t think any of us are feeling the love right now.”

  “I’m in complete agreement,” Rake said. “Marek should have been executed long ago. His family used their influence to get his sentence reduced to exile.” He flashed a grin. “The good news is, now that I’m the governor of the goblin colony here, changing Marek’s sentence is well within my authority. My predecessor looked the other way while Marek broke any law he desired. His attack on Makenna was attempted murder, and his meeting with Sandrina was collusion with a convicted and condemned traitor to the goblin crown. Marek’s life is legally mine as soon as I can take it. Sandrina already has a death sentence on her head. Isidor has committed many crimes, but has yet to be tried and convicted, though I don’t plan to let that little detail get in my way once I get my hands on him.”

  “What you saw sounds like an arms deal,” Ian noted. “A nuclear-level arms deal. The previous version of the magetech generator filled the trunk of a car. It looks like Phaeon has managed to make it smaller.”

  “Magetech generator 2.0,” I muttered. “Just what we didn’t need.”

  “What is this magetech generator?” Tam asked.

  Rake gave his cousin the condensed version of what had happened at the Regor Regency.

  Scooping an entire hotel—and all the staff, diplomat guests, and SPI agents inside—out of Lower Manhattan and into a pocket dimension hadn’t been magical small potatoes. It had been a serious magical working—with a heaping helping of the latest technology. We’d known that Isidor Silvanus had a knack for conjuring pocket dimensions, but to whisk a building that covered nearly an entire city block out of our world and into a pocket of alternate reality would be impossible for any mage—or so we’d thought. We didn’t even suspect Isidor, until Kenji and I had seen Isidor’s tech genius brother Phaeon and his latest gadget. Only then did we realize who was behind the conjuring and whisking. We’d only survived thanks to the combined magical talent, technical knowledge, and death-defying determination of those of us imprisoned inside.

  No doubt the Silvanus brothers had been very disappointed.

  And for the ultimate middle finger, not only had we stopped the magetech generator from killing us all, we’d disabled it and taken it home with us to study. That had probably turned their disappointment to frothing-at-the-mouth rage.

  At least that was my assumption. We hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the Silvanus brothers since then. We’d been sure we’d be hearing from them soon. They were way too pissed off at us to stay under the radar for long.

  This was one time I really hadn’t wanted us to be right.

  “If what’s moving buildings isn’t a smaller version of a magetech generator, that means Phaeon came up with something new,” Ian was saying. “I hope he merely shrank it. With his previous version in our lab, our people can figure out how it works—and how to make it not work—regardless of size.”

  “I need to alert Imala to the possibilities,” Tam said. “Sandrina could have used Rake’s house as a test. The Khrynsani’s next target could be the royal palace or the citadel on the Isle of Mid. Either would be a catastrophic loss.”

  “Sandrina gave Isidor what amounts to a bushel basket of those crystals,” I reminded them. “If Isidor gave her two generators, who knows how many Phaeon has made and they have stashed away here? Six buildings have vanished already—that we know of. And they’re in places where they either wouldn’t be missed, or it’d take awhile for anyone to notice. If those aren’t tests for something big, I don’t know what is. It sounds like the Khrynsani are up to no good back home, but what are the Silvanus brothers planning for our world?”

  Silence met that happy thought.

  “I understand Isidor making nice with this Sandrina Ghalfari,” Ian said, “but how does Marek Reigory fit in?”

  “Marek’s ambition is what got him exiled,” Rake told him. “His misbehavior has continued here unabated.” He glanced at Ms. Sagadraco, as if asking permission to continue. Ian and his scowl silently followed the exchange. I knew in his mind this would go down as just one more thing Rake had kept from us.

  Our boss exhaled slowly. “I will take it from here, Lord Danescu. We have had reports of the mages on our most-watched list being seen together, mostly in pairs and mainly in Europe. Eight months ago, five of them were in Prague the same week. They were never seen together, but that didn’t mean a meeting didn’t take place. Three months ago, the same five mages, with the notable addition of Marek Reigory, were in Amsterdam.”

  “And a month later, the Silvanus brothers took the Regor Regency hostage,” Ian said. “Coincidence?”

  “We’re not treating it as one, Agent Byrne. I have reason to believe these mages have formed a cabal of sorts. For what purpose, we do not yet know, but I believe the events of the past day have given us a glimpse into the reason behind those clandestine meetings.”

  “Their clandestine is my clueless,” I said. “Aside from the fact that at least one of them wants me dead. When the Khrynsani dropped Rake’s house on us last night, I got the feeling Marek wasn’t amused. That doesn’t sound like the flawless execution of an evil master plan.”

  Rake almost smiled. “You understand more than you know, darling Makenna. Your two encounters with Marek have given us invaluable insight.”

  “I’m still in the fog.”

  Rake leaned forward. “You said that Marek seemed angry last night, and anxious bordering on desperate this morning while searching for the crystal.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think the fire that destroyed my house was an accident, and
possibly the taking of the house itself. Marek is the only goblin member of the cabal that we’re aware of. Would you say that is still correct, Madame Sagadraco?”

  “My sources have reported no other goblin.”

  “Are you sure he isn’t acting independently?” Ian asked.

  “All but positive,” Rake said.

  “How do you know?”

  “He tried to recruit me as the second goblin in their little club.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “It was years ago, dearest. Before I met you.” He gave Ms. Sagadraco an amused glance. “Vivienne was quite put out that I refused his offer.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It is always useful to have someone on the inside, Agent Fraser,” Ms. Sagadraco explained.

  “Useful, but time-consuming,” Rake said. “I had my hands more than full working for goblin intelligence. I’m answerable to enough people back home.”

  Tam chuckled. “Imala doesn’t share well with others.”

  “And I don’t play well with others. Marek would be the cabal’s natural choice to arrange a meeting and deal between Isidor and Sandrina. Marek’s family has close ties with the Khrynsani, and Sandrina is their acting leader—”

  “I thought you said the Khrynsani are an all-boys club,” I said.

  “They are. But for Sandrina, they made an exception.”

  “Is she powerful? Influential? Loaded?”

  “All of the above, but mainly she was too evil to pass up. Sandrina and Isidor did not meet and come to any kind of agreement on their own. Marek knows both of them. That he was present when the trade took place indicates to me that he was acting as a representative of the cabal.”

  “Your house burnt, and now the crystal is sitting in our lab rather than the cabal’s lair,” I surmised. “His cohorts in the evil mage clubhouse probably aren’t too happy with him right now.”

  Rake’s eyes sparkled. “No, they’re not, and it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy. I have a feeling the Khrynsani weren’t authorized to do what they did. The other building disappearances were in remote locations far from here. Dropping my house onto my lot in the middle of New York is as public as it gets. It sounds like a Khrynsani operation—all of the twisted fun and no blowback on them. However, my house appearing here with the crystal and possible magetech generator inside just put those six building disappearances squarely on SPI’s radar. No, the cabal is not at all happy with the Khrynsani. If Tulis hadn’t killed Khent Mendiu, I highly suspect Marek would have gladly done the job.”

  13

  Rake had taken Tam back to his apartment. He was going to talk to his sources/agents to locate Marek, and Tam was going to use the equipment in Rake’s lab to report to Imala Kalis and again try to reach Agata Azul.

  Ms. Sagadraco had directed Dr. Cheban to focus on the remains of the metal chest found in Rake’s house and the metal used in the construction of the magetech generator to determine if there were any similarities.

  Ian and I were going to see what Kenji had dug up about the previous building disappearances.

  I’d made the mistake of checking Twitter. According to every news source, I was now dating a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and superhero.

  So much for running under the radar.

  When Ian and I got off the elevator on the floor where the agent cube farm was located, I was greeted accordingly.

  “Yo, Pepper Potts!” came a shout from somewhere in the middle of the walled warren of offices.

  “Bite me!” I yelled back.

  That earned me some cheers and whistles.

  As we made our way to the far corner and the IT department, Alain Moreau’s cultured voice came over the PA: “A reminder that tomorrow at noon in the cafeteria will be a Lunch and Learn on troll interpersonal relations and cultural taboos. After last week’s incident, it’s apparent that some of you could use a refresher. It’s open to anyone who wants to attend, but for Agent Team Delta, it’s mandatory.”

  “Ooooh,” went up from the bullpen.

  The IT center of the SPI universe was in the bullpen’s northeast corner—Kenji Hayashi’s command center. At least that’s what everyone else called it. Kenji just called it his desk.

  Kenji’s desk was a semicircle lined with a total of twelve huge flat-screen monitors, six on the bottom and six mounted directly above. Behind him within easy reach were shelves stacked with his haul from the latest Comic-Con, binders of compiled research, and gadgets in various stages of completion that he’d whipped up to make the work of our monster-hunting commandos safer. A lot of them were supernaturals, but even they could use technological advantages over the creatures they hunted. During every mission of the New York office’s two commando teams, the AV feeds from their helmets came directly to Kenji’s screens. He saw what each agent saw and tracked their locations. If someone got into trouble, Kenji could direct the closest team members to help. Our commandos thought of Kenji as their guardian angel.

  That angel was presently leaning back in his desk chair, popping wasabi-covered peas from the Mr. Spock candy jar on his desk. The peas were Kenji’s idea of getting enough vegetables.

  There was another reason we were blessed to have Kenji on our side.

  He wasn’t a mage, but he was seven different kinds of genius.

  There were those who were naturally drawn to tech, and those who had it thrust upon them, usually by a family member, in the form of “you’re never gonna get a decent-paying job if you don’t know about computers.”

  Of all those folks, there was a small minority that combined skills and smarts with an above-average level of psychosis. That combination either went on to become a CEO in Silicon Valley, or a villain petting their white cat in a volcanic island lair. Give a person like that access to magic as well, and you had the makings of an interdimensional supervillain, which is what we were dealing with now.

  Fortunately for the future of planet Earth and the greater cosmos, Kenji Hayashi was a genius who was also a great guy and allergic to cats.

  Phaeon Silvanus, on the other hand, was the founder and CEO of the Hart Group, which included Hart Pharmaceuticals, which, thanks to SPI, was presently under investigation by federal, state, and local authorities. Another company under the Hart Group umbrella was Hart Defense Systems, which had found itself a niche developing smaller, more specialized weapons; an arms boutique, if you will. Hart Defense was presently a darling of the Pentagon, but they also had under-the-table dealings with shadowy foreign interests. Unfortunately, SPI didn’t have prosecutable proof that we could pass on to our contacts at the mortal alphabet agencies.

  Phaeon’s brother, Isidor, was the magic-slinging half of their dastardly dynamic duo.

  Now it appeared they’d joined forces with another world’s version of Nazis, and our world’s version of a real-life SPECTRE or Hydra populated by megamages.

  My naturally paranoid imagination skipped further down that dark path to the fact that once Phaeon’s magetech generator had been activated, you didn’t have to be either a megamage or a tech genius to use it.

  That left the psychos with the money and influence to buy one for their very own.

  Unfortunately, Earth had no shortage of rich, psychotic megalomaniacs.

  And Rake had once told me that the one thing Isidor Silvanus loved more than power was money.

  Like we needed more problems.

  Kenji loved problems when he could consider them riddles to be solved.

  Buildings disappearing using crystals from another world as a power source? Kenji was positively giddy.

  On the monitor immediately in front of him was a map of the US with a scattering of red dots. Red was Kenji’s go-to color for indicating locations of the weirdness du jour.

  Ian and I pulled up chairs.

  “That’s entirely too many red dots,” Ian told him.

  “I’m just glad it’s not 3D and spinning,
” I said. My stomach was similarly grateful.

  Kenji grinned. “I tried.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “What about the rest of the world?” Ian asked.

  The elf clicked a few keys, and the screen’s scope expanded to a worldwide view.

  No red dots.

  “Still nada,” he said. “The US of A has this one all to itself.”

  “Lucky us,” I muttered.

  As Kenji closed the window to show only the US, five more dots appeared on the western part of the map, this time in bright green, the runner-up in his cavalcade of colors to indicate evil supernatural activity.

  Kenji zoomed in. “Hmm, more greenies coming in. I’m using green to show where similar incidents occurred more than six months ago.”

  I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly. “Six months?”

  “You heard it here first. Months.”

  With the exception of Rake’s house here, the rest of the dots were in the southwestern US: Nevada, Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, and Arizona.

  Ian leaned forward and did a quick count. “Fourteen in red and seven green. Twenty-one buildings that have vanished as if they never existed, and we’re just now hearing about it?”

  Kenji shrugged. “The majority happened out in the middle of nowhere or in deserted towns. The disappearances either went unnoticed, or news took time to reach any of our agents.”

  We told him about the cabal, the Khrynsani, and Marek Reigory.

  SPI loved stupid bad guys who all but did our jobs for us. Villains became dead or incarcerated villains by being stupid and doing dumb things. Villains who ran around yelling, “Hey ya’ll, watch this!” with every flashy, villainy thing they did, tended to attract attention they didn’t want if they wanted to go on being productive villains.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t what we had here. The Khrynsani hadn’t been stupid. It was more of a “not our world, not our problem” scenario. The house had to go somewhere, why not Rake’s vacant lot, the man responsible for booting their colonial governor puppet out of his cushy office?