by Simon Hawke
"What do you mean?" asked Wyrdrune.
"We've been going about this thing all wrong," the cat said. "It hit me last night, after what happened. It's pointless trying to follow a necromancer who can teleport or send out a demon to do his dirty work. It simply can't be done. So the thing is not to try to follow him. The thing is to try to catch him before he leaves."
"How the hell can you do that?" asked Kira.
"Easy," Gomez said. "You figure the necromancer's got to be passing as some local or visiting adept. He can draw energy from his victims, so maybe he doesn't eat, but unless he's hiding in a hole somewhere, he needs a place to stay. He needs clothes. Toilet articles, thaumaturgic supplies like candles and chalk to draw his pentagrams and whatever, the various little necessities of life that even an immortal can't quite do without. In this modern world, even a necromancer needs to have some cash, right? So what's he going to do, work? One of the great immortals doing menial human labor? No way. So he'll either enslave one or more adepts or work as one himself."
"Well, that's pretty much what we figured, Gomez," Paul said. "That's why we've been trying to check on all the registered adepts in town. Only we're running out of time. There are just too many of them, especially with the convention this weekend."
"That's just my point," said Gomez. "There are too many of them for you to cover, but not for us. You give me that list you've been using and I'll assign a thaumagene to cover each one. There are more thaumagenes in town than there are adepts. And just to play it safe, I'll make sure that none of the thaumagenes wind up covering their masters. I could scratch my other eye out for not thinking of this sooner. We could get the job done for you."
"You know, he's got something there," said Wyrdrune.
"Perhaps," said Paul, "only what if the Dark One isn't masquerading as a registered adept?"
"There's always a chance of that," said Wyrdrune, "but at least it will allow us to eliminate all the others from our list of possible suspects. I think it's a great idea!"
"I don't know," said Paul. "I'd hate to see any of the animals get hurt."
"We'll just keep the adepts under surveillance," Gomez said. "If any of them start up with any magic monkey business, we get the word right back to you."
"It's worth a try," said Kira. "The fiesta starts the day after tomorrow. We've only got two more nights."
"We've got less than that," said Paul. "The town is already starting to fill up with people coming in for the fiesta. The news reports about the murders will keep some of them away, but not all of them. A lot of them will think that they'll be safe with so many people on the streets. Others will be attracted by a perverse sense of fascination. They won't understand that all of them will be in the gravest danger."
"There's no chance of getting the fiesta canceled?" Wyrdrune asked.
"If there was, Joe would have done it by now," Paul replied. "They just won't understand the danger. Not unless we tell them everything."
"That would only make it worse," said Merlin. "We've simply got to find the Dark One and stop him before the fiesta starts. I suggest we take Gomez up on his idea and meanwhile continue covering the city section by section."
"We'll never get it done in time," said Kira.
"That's why we need Gomez and his friends," Wyrdrune said. "Right now, they're the best chance we've got. Maybe the only chance."
"All right," said Paul. "How long will it take you to spread the word to the other thaumagenes, Gomez?"
"They'll all know by tonight," the cat replied. "I called a meeting in the plaza. You give me a copy of that list and I'll assign each of them to an adept."
"All the thaumagenes are meeting in the plaza?" Paul said. "Don't you think that will attract a great deal of attention?"
"So what are they gonna do," asked Gomez, "arrest us for loitering?"
She took the elevator up to the second floor of The Inn at Loretto and knocked on a door about halfway down the hall.
"Who is it?"
"It's me, Jim. Open up."
The door opened and she entered the room. There were two men inside, Agent Jim Stanley, who had opened the door, and Agent Chris Rosowitz, stretched out on the bed in his stocking feet, his tie loosened and top two buttons of his shirt undone. He was looking through the restaurant guide. Over his shirt, he wore a shoulder holster rig holding a 9-mm semiautomatic pistol. Stanley also wore a gun. They were both Bureau adepts, but in their line of work, they did not rely exclusively on magic.
Megan nodded to Rosowitz. "Hello, Chris."
"What's up?" asked Rosowitz, putting down the guide and getting up. "I thought you weren't going to make direct contact unless something came down."
"Something has come down," she replied. "The whole operation's compromised."
"What?" said Stanley.
"Where are the others?"
"In their rooms. We only just got in last night. Some of them might be downstairs having breakfast."
"I haven't got time to wait for them," she said. "You'll have to pass the word."
"What happened?"
"I'm not sure," said Megan, taking a chair. She reached into her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit up. "Last night, there was a break-in at the local Bureau office over at the college."
"We know," said Stanley. "But our orders were to maintain our covers, so none of us responded. We figured either you or Ramirez would handle it."
"I did," she said. "I found a girl in the office, about twenty-one, twenty-two, tough little type, using Ramirez's computer. And a broom standing lookout."
"A what?" asked Stanley.
"A broom," she said, exhaling smoke through her nostrils.
"That's what I thought you said," said Stanley.
"You should have seen this thing," said Megan with a snort. "It was one of those old-fashioned sweep brooms, you know, just a bunch of straw bristles tied to a stick? Only it was animated. It had long, skinny arms sprouting from its pole and it could talk. With a Queens accent, no less."
"You're kidding," Rosowitz said.
"Swear to God. And you haven't heard the best part. When I grabbed the broom and walked in on the girl, she had a printout of my Bureau jacket. Plus a list of all your names, your covers, and where you had booked rooms, including the phone number for each room."
"I don't believe it!" Stanley said.
"Believe it. I busted her and took her down to police headquarters. That was the first wrong move I made. I should have dealt with her right then and there, but I figured a trip to police headquarters would shake her up enough to answer questions. But she's been that route before, I'd stake my career on it. She knew the whole routine. Wouldn't be intimidated. Wouldn't even tell me her name. So I figured I'd lean on her a little and threaten her with a spell of compulsion. That usually does the trick and gets them to open up. Only not this one. She baited me, sat there and dared me to do it. And that's when I made my second mistake."
"You didn't," Rosowitz said.
"The smug little bitch got to me," said Megan sourly.
"Oh, Christ," said Stanley.
"Wait," she said. "You haven't heard the rest of it. All right, I lost my temper and I shouldn't have, but she resisted. I threw everything I had at her and nothing happened. It flat didn't work."
"Wait a minute," Rosowitz said, "how old did you say this girl was? Early twenties?"
"That's right."
"And she was able to resist an eighth-level sorceress?"
"Ninth level," Megan said.
"That's impossible," said Stanley.
"Yeah? Tell her. It threw me for a loop, I can tell you. And before I could recover, this police lieutenant named Loomis walks in on me and starts raising hell about how I didn't follow correct procedure."
"Loomis," said Rosowitz. "That's the cop who's handling the case with Ramirez?"
"Yeah, that's him. And get this, he knew the girl. Said her name was Kira and she was Ramirez's live-in girlfriend. Said it had to be some
sort of mistake. And right then, she pops up with this cock 'n' bull story about how Ramirez requested a printout of my file and left it in the office, so he sent her back to get it—at what, four in the morning?—and she forgot the key, so she broke in and set off the alarm. I never heard a more ridiculous story in my life, but Loomis lets her walk!"
"Doesn't sound as if he had much choice," said Rosowitz. "You did screw up the bust."
"Okay, I admit it, but there's no way I buy her story. And you tell me how she was able to resist my spell."
"There's only one way I can think of," Stanley said.
"Right. I thought the same thing," said Megan. "And would you believe it, she had the nerve to tell me that if she were a necromancer, she wouldn't be there and I'd be dead!"
"And this girl lives with Ramirez?" Rosowitz asked.
Megan nodded. "I want you to call headquarters and find out if Ramirez requested a copy of my file. And if he did, then I want the name of the stupid son of a bitch who let him have it and blew this operation. Only I don't think that's what happened."
"Some clerk at HQ must've screwed up," said Rosowitz.
"Maybe. Or she cracked the database."
"No way," said Stanley. "With a little office P.C.? It's impossible."
"I'm not saying she used the computer in the office," Megan said. "I don't buy that some clerk screwed up on something as basic as unauthorized access to confidential personnel files. And I don't buy that Ramirez put in a request for my jacket and I especially don't buy that he left it sitting around in his office and then sent his girlfriend in to pick it up. I've read his file. He's a good man. Studied under Ambrosius himself. He wouldn't be that sloppy. Not unless somebody got to him. I want you to check it out. Get a list of all the calls from that office last night. I want to know if that file came down from headquarters or somewhere else. Meanwhile, I intend to find out everything I can about this Kira person. One thing I can tell you right away, she's not from around here. She's got a New York accent."
"What else can you tell us about her? Got a last name?"
"No, unfortunately. I didn't even get that. Just a first name, Kira. She's about five-four, five-five, early twenties, Hispanic. Short black hair, renaissance punk type, dark eyes, about a hundred and five pounds or so."
"That's not a lot," said Stanley.
"I'll get more, don't worry. But I'd say she's a real prime suspect."
"Yeah, but if she's with Ramirez . . . I don't know," said Rosowitz. "Ramirez is the one who made the report. Besides, he's a twelfth-level adept. That's right below mage. And you're telling me she got to him?"
"There's more than one way to manipulate a man," said Megan wryly. "She didn't have to use magic. A lot of middle-aged men go in for the cute, young, trashy type. It wouldn't be the first time someone like Ramirez was made a fool of."
"You may have a point," said Rosowitz. "Okay, we'll get right on it."
"I'll check back with you this afternoon, before I go to see Ramirez. Loomis said they've been on this thing around the clock and Ramirez is exhausted, so he went home to get some rest. He actually said he would resent it if I disturbed him before he had a chance to get some sleep."
"A local cop said this?" Rosowitz asked with disbelief. "To a Bureau field agent?"
"Yeah, can you believe it?" Megan said. "The funny thing is, he says things like that and you listen to him. He was all over me right from the beginning and I couldn't even get out of the starting gate. He looks like that cowboy actor from those pre-Collapse films, what's-his-name, the one with the funny walk, and he sort of dresses the part, too. He barely even raises his voice. If any other man spoke to me the way he did, I'd have taken his head off. I don't know what it is about the guy, but he just . . . I just don't know what it is."
"I know the type," said Rosowitz with a smile. "He's what you call 'a man's man.' Not too many of those around anymore."
"Oh, please. Not that macho bullshit."
"Macho has nothing to do with it," said Rosowitz. "It isn't just a male thing. Women can have it, too. Only I don't know what you'd call it in a woman. They used to say 'a woman with balls,' but that's inaccurate and sexist. It's more like a compelling, quiet authority. It's the quality that makes for good leadership."
"Well, whatever it is, he's got it in spades, the bastard. He's the most infuriating man I've ever met."
"Got to you, huh?"
"You can take that grin off your face anytime now. The point is, it makes for a convenient excuse not to see Ramirez right away. I can use the time to ask around, see what I can find out about his girlfriend, Kira."
"If she's what you suspect she is, she's dangerous," said Stanley. "Watch yourself. Don't try to take her on without a backup."
"I have no intention of taking her on alone," Megan said, crushing out her cigarette. "I hit her with a compulsion spell and she just shrugged it off like it was nothing. That really shook me up. I'm not taking any chances. When I go to take her down, I'm taking all the backup I can get."
"Bureau of Thaumaturgy," said the secretary.
"Hello," said Wulfgar. "Is Professor Paul Ramirez there?"
"Professor Ramirez is out at the moment. This is his secretary. May I take a message?"
"Well, perhaps you can help me," Wulfgar said. "This is A-1 Plumbing calling. We received a call from Professor Ramirez late last night on our message tape. Apparently, he's got some trouble with his water pipes and it sounded rather urgent. He requested an emergency service call first thing in the morning. He said he'd either be at the Bureau of Thaumaturgy office or at home, but there'd be someone at the house to let us in. Only someone in the office forgot to rewind the tape and it ran out before he could complete his message, so we didn't get his address. If you could give that to me, I could dispatch one of our service trucks right away."
"Oh, certainly," the secretary said. "He's at 2535 Declovina Street."
"Would that be a house or an apartment?"
"It's a private home."
"Okay. Let me make sure I have that right. That's 2535 Declovina?"
"Correct."
"Okay, we'll send a truck out right away. Thanks."
"You're perfectly welcome."
Wulfgar hung up the phone and smiled. He stepped away from the phone stall on the outside wall of the Quikmart and walked back toward the truck. He was dressed in a set of olive-green coveralls with the legend "A-1 Plumbing" printed across the back and the name "Chuck" embroidered over the breast pocket. The panel truck also had the legend "A-1 Plumbing" painted on its sides. He opened the door and stepped inside. The driver's compartment was open to the back of the truck, which was lined with shelving containing various tools and plumbing supplies. On the floor of the truck bed, lying in a pool of blood, was the body of the plumber named Chuck, dressed only in his underwear, the T-shirt torn away to reveal bloody runes carved into the torso.
Wulfgar got behind the wheel, turned the key that switched on the vehicle's thaumaturgic battery, shifted into gear, and pulled out of the parking lot, heading for Declovina Street.
It was all Paul could do to stay awake. It was almost ten-thirty in the morning and he still hadn't gotten any sleep. He parked his car in the driveway, turned off the key, and leaned back against the seat for a moment, tempted to just fall asleep right there. He had dropped Wyrdrune and Kira off at the car rental agency, so they could rent two cars, increasing their ability to cover the town in their search for the Dark One. Rental cars would be more practical, and far less conspicuous, than using the unicorns again. Dividing up their strength like that would be risky, but they had decided that they had to take the chance. There was only one more day until the start of the fiesta and they had already started setting up the booths and the canopied stage down in the plaza.
Seeing how tired he was, Wyrdrune had insisted that there was no reason for him to wait around while they filled out all the paperwork, that he should go home and get to bed. They'd follow shortly and get some much nee
ded rest themselves before going out again that night. They had called ahead to make certain that the rental agency had cars equipped with cellular phones, so they'd be able to keep in touch while they cruised separately around the town. Billy had stayed behind at the house and gone to bed. And Broom, since returning from police headquarters, had refused to come out of the closet.
Wearily, Paul got out of the car and trudged up the steps to the house. He unlocked the door and walked in, tossing the keys on the table in the entryway. He felt almost too tired to make it up the stairs to his bedroom. He had given the guest bedroom to Wyrdrune and Kira. Billy was asleep on the couch in the den, having refused to deprive Paul of his bed, saying he'd slept soundly in far less comfortable places. Even Gomez was tired and had curled up in his usual place at the foot of Paul's bed. Paul went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He had drunk about half of it when someone rang the doorbell. Probably Wyrdrune and Kira, he thought. That was quick. He went to open the door.
"A-1 Plumbing," said the man at the door. He was dressed in coveralls and carrying a metal toolbox.
Paul frowned. "Plumbing? I didn't call a plumber."
"This isn't 2535 Declovina?"
"Yes, it is, but there must be some mistake. We didn't call a plumber."
"Your name's not Mr. Jones?"
"No, it's Ramirez."
The man grimaced and shook his head. "Hell, someone at the office must have screwed up. We got an emergency call from somebody named Jones, burst pipes, water spraying all over the place, and they sent me to the wrong address. Would you mind if I used your phone to call the office? I'd be glad to pay for the call."
"No, that's quite all right, that won't be necessary," Paul said, standing aside. "Come in. There's a phone in the kitchen."
"Thanks. I really appreciate this."
Wulfgar followed Paul into the kitchen.
"The phone's right over there," said Paul, pointing.
"Thanks. I'll try not to be too long."
He picked up the phone and started dialing. Paul took the rest of his orange juice and went back out into the living room to wait for the man to complete his call. The couch looked terribly inviting. He sat down. Maybe he wouldn't even bother going upstairs. Maybe he'd just stretch out here. He heard a footstep and looked up. The plumber was standing before him with a strange smile on his face. And then his eyes started to glow.
