Gabriela sighed. “No, Frank.” A silence I didn’t like it at all filled the space between us. “While I don’t doubt you could rip the enchantments out of the cells, there really isn’t much we could do afterward.” There was a thunk from her cell, the distinct sound of her head rapping against the bars. “I know it seems like magic can do anything, but it really can’t.”
“So what you’re telling me is that even if you could do your witchy-woman act, we’re stuck?” I asked as a tiny thread of dread began to worm its way across my brain.
“For now.” She seemed to perk up a little. “Let’s make the best out of a bad situation though, at least until we can figure a way out of here.”
“I’m guessing you mean outside of three square meals a day and a luxurious cot?” I shook my head. I had that outside these walls too, and my cot was way better than this one. For one thing, it had Star Wars sheets.
“Don’t scoff. The Peacekeepers actually cared about their prisoners, so things are pretty nice here.” She let out a long breath. “I don’t know how this will end, Frank, but if we’re going to have a chance, you need to really know how things work. Magic, la Corazon, and both of the cults, you need to know it all.”
I let go of the door, turning to lean my back against the bars. I had been coasting by without asking too many questions. What with all this craziness there hadn’t been time. Well, that had changed. I had nothing but time now. Besides, I was committed now. It wasn’t just about knocking Marcus and his goons down a peg. No, it was about family, and I really wanted to reunite Gabby with her son. Even if it was the last thing I did.
“Okay, Mistress, teach this young padawan the ways of the Force.” I shrugged at the probable magic camera eyes watching our every move. “So why don’t we start with why you can’t wave your magic syringe and be my fairy godmother?”
“Well, you’re well-versed in fantasy and science-fiction, so this should be easy to explain.” Gabriela’s voice went into full-on academic mode. “What we call ‘magic’ is a force that permeates every living creature, every bit of matter in the world. I’ve mentioned ‘weaving’ and ‘tapestries’ and that’s an apt way to think of it, threads of magic fill the universe and bind us to that universe.”
“I thought you said this’d be easy to explain?” I asked, slightly confused. While it was all nice and poetic sounding, it certainly wasn’t starting as the clear-cut Magic For Dummies that had been advertised.
“Stay with me, Frank, and it will become clear.” She cleared her throat and continued, “What wizards do is manipulate these threads. Pulling them, cutting them, weaving loose threads into the spells you see.”
I rubbed my cheeks. My manly five-o’clock shadow was threatening to turn into a fledgling Grizzly Adams beard. “Ah, okay. That explains how things look when I use the heart, like magic is stuff patched onto the rest of the world and all.”
“Patches, that’s actually an excellent way to put it. We wizards essentially patch reality to change it.” Talking shop like this seemed to be doing wonders for Gabriela’s mood from how her voice was rising. “This should make several things clear about magic and its limitations.”
I decided to play teacher’s pet and see if my brain was actually worth a damn. “Magic takes time. The bigger the thing you’re making the longer, right? That’s why you guys still use guns because that’s more efficient than taking time to stitch up a fireball.”
“Exactly! I knew you’d catch on quickly.” Sure, it wasn’t anything in the long term, but it did make me smile a bit to hear Gabriela so enthusiastic. “So time is your first limiting factor. We can get around this by weaving a spell together but leaving a final stitch open. Then we tie up that loose end when we need it.”
“That’s what you were doing with your tablet earlier.” I kept myself from mentioning the Doc’s car with the rest of my guns in it. Hell, if there was even the slightest chance they hadn’t found the Taurus, and we somehow managed to break out of these cells, it was our best bet for a quick getaway.
“Right, and that leads into the final big limitation of magic: You have to know the right pattern to weave. Just as you can’t knit a scarf without knowing the pattern, you can’t knit a spell.” She sighed again. “I’m a doctor, Frank, and most of my spells heal and protect people. I could barely conjure up enough fire to light a fireplace. I certainly don’t know how to melt steel bars.”
I tried not to let what she said bother me. True, I hadn’t seen her throw fireballs, but come on, if movies had taught me anything, that was like Wizarding 101. Still, there would be no use making her feel bad about it. Doing so wouldn’t help.
“So pretty much you’re a white mage, got it.” Well, that certainly made escape a lot more complicated. “You know what really bugs me about this whole thing, Doc?”
“Huh?” She had really been in academic mode and it took her a moment to snap to.
“If they didn’t want the hunk of burning voodoo in my chest, why in God’s name did they swipe your kid?” I started to pace behind the cell door. “I mean, that’s really sticking your neck out and calling attention to your plan if their big boss was right, which you said he has to be because curses and all?”
“I don’t know.” There was the worry again, but it was backed up now by deep-down determination. “I thought I understood what was going on, but now I have no idea. And honestly, I don’t care why. We are going to get Max back. We have to get him back.”
“Of course we will. I’m already thinking of a brilliant plan.” Now, I don’t lie much. It’s just not cool. Right then, though, I was slinging more bullshit than a cowherd, but she didn’t need to know that. “In fact, it would probably help if you kept feeding me info. Keep the brain cells pumping and all that.”
It was all to keep Gabby talking, keep up the morale, so to speak. First rule of winning a war is keeping the troops happy after all. I mean, we were thoroughly fucked, but we would keep fighting all the same. I couldn’t think of what else I needed to know at this point, but if going on about every minute bit of magic was keeping her spirits up, I wasn’t going to stop her.
As Gabriela started her lecture back up, I decided to rest my eyes a bit.
I really can’t remember quite when I went from eye-resting to passing out on the floor. Leave it to that old Army training to let me sleep anywhere and not even notice. Hopefully the Doc didn’t get pissed when I started snoring during her speech.
What woke me up was the grind of the outer door on stone. I awoke with a start, which naturally banged the back of my head into the prison door. Now I had a massive headache to add to the kink in my neck. All the same, I tried to keep my wits about me as I scrambled madly to my feet.
The glow in the room, dimmed greatly from what it had been when I fell asleep, rose in intensity to reveal the robed, clay form of Abner. Maybe it was the fact I was still on one knee trying to rise, but he looked even more humongous than before. If I’d learned anything, it was that he meant trouble, and to be honest, I wanted no part of it. I was already up to my ears in the stuff as it was.
“So what’s a lovely golem like you doing in a dingy place like this?” The big lug paused and that stoic expression seemed to crack just a wee bit. “Oh, what’s that? How did the dumb delivery boy who doesn’t know shit about magic know what you are?”
From behind the walking lumpy wall, Gabriela answered instead, “I’m actually a bit surprised myself, Frank.”
“Well, come on, who doesn’t know their Hebrew mythology?” I tried to play it off to help enhance my cool factor. For once, I actually had a handle on the current situation. “Clay statue, the Hebrew inscription on the forehead, the general look of him, Golem of Prague anyone?”
That thick, crude brow didn’t waver as Abner looked me up and down before turning slowly in place. The door closed on its own accord behind him.
“I would ask him what he’s doing here, but I don’t speak Hebrew and, no matter your sudden knowledge of Hebre
w lore, I doubt you do either.” Gabriela sighed and flashed a sad smile at me.
“Oh, I don’t, Gabriela, but I think Big Boy here not only understands us, but I bet you a box of doughnuts he can speak plenty good English.” Abner refocused on me as I cracked a smirk. “Don’t be shy. You don’t have any other reason to be here other than to talk.”
Of course, I could have been wrong. In the stories the Goldmans told us, golems were big and strong and somewhat prone to going crazy after a while. Something about how man couldn’t make true life and hubris against God and all the usual shit. Maybe Abner had snapped and was here to break our necks like toothpicks. Even worse, maybe he was here on orders to kill us, even if Tabitha had seemed awful reluctant to do anything of the sort. Still, bitches be crazy, and she was one crazy bitch.
“We do not have much time.” Abner reached into his pitch-black robes and pulled out a brilliant silver chain with a white opal medallion. There were markings on it that didn’t mean shit to me, but the whole “whiteness” of it spoke volumes. “Roland Lambert sends his regards, Frank Butcher.”
11
“Abner, are you serious?” No, that wasn’t me who asked. It was Gabriela.
Chalk it up to my worldly nature maybe, but my own impressions of old Rollie was that he was more than capable of having double agents on the other side. The guys in charge always find it easy to justify all manner of shit in the name of war. This time, at least, I wasn’t going to complain as it might be saving our collective bacon.
Gabby, though, well, let’s just say idealism and doctors kind of go together. That or harsh cynicism.
“I am utterly serious, Dr. Perez. Lies do not come easily to we created beings.” Abner turned slowly toward the Doc and held his amulet up. “If you continue to doubt my words, use your ethereal vision. We both know it will reveal the truth.”
While everyone was focused on the shiny medallion, I collected myself and rubbed at the sore spot on the back of my head. I still couldn’t see Gabriela, but it wasn’t long before the golem stuffed the medallion away.
“I see now.” The Doc’s indignation spilled into her words as she spoke. “How could you do this? Do you know how many innocents were hurt or killed when you led the charge on the clinic?”
“I do as I am ordered, Doctor.” The golem should have shrugged. It would have fit his bored tone.
Leaning against the bars, I did what I usually do—I butted in. “While I definitely side with the Doc when it comes to your asshattery, Abby, you said we didn’t have much time and he might be our only ticket out of here. So Gabriela, if you wouldn’t mind, let’s get out of here while we can.”
She let out a low hiss that made me glad I couldn’t see her. “Fine, Frank, we’ll trust the mudman, but don’t think this is over for a second, Abner, and you can tell the head magus that very thing!”
“It will be done, Doctor.” The golem spoke with a hollow voice of a slave, of a creature that didn’t have a choice in the world and knew it. I guess being a servant was a real bitch. “For the task at hand, though,” Abner turned back to me, “it all depends on you and your choices, Mr. Butcher.”
I arched an eyebrow as I looked up, and up, and up at him. “Look, pal, are you here to break us out or chew the fat? I don’t see how my choices have jack or shit to do with anything.”
“Though Yahweh sent down the spirit to animate my body, He does not grant me His infinite wisdom. From what I can glean of Roland’s intentions, I am not to break my cover within the Enders, especially if you do not agree to the terms Magus Lambert wishes me to convey to you.”
“That sounds like horseshit, to be honest.” I put my forearms up on the bars, trying to look nonchalantly cool. It worked, but only because I had a lot of practice from my fighting days. “Your boss can’t afford to let both their nifty magic rock and their best doctor sit around getting used and abused by your enemies.” I wasn’t sure on that second part, but I was willing to bet Gabriela was one of their best and brightest. After all, they let her have the heart in the first place! If not, well, fuck ‘em.
Abner didn’t flinch or even make an expression, the Hebrew inscription on his brow stayed flat and even. “I am not, as you say, full of the excrement of horses. You and the doctor are important, this much is true, but events are at a crisis point. If you do not listen and agree to the conditions, my instructions are to put an end to the final ritual here.” He spread his big red hands wide. “It has been confirmed that Marcus Drakos does not need la Corazon, so the Magus only needs you if you will follow the plan. Understand?”
Oh, I understood all right. The big lug was going to kill me if I didn’t agree to help his master. It grated against everything in me, but what choice did I have? Use la Corazon to kill him and stay here in the lockup? I chewed my lip and called around the big lug. “It doesn’t hurt to hear him out, does it, Doc?”
There was a certain fatalism to her voice as she called back, “It doesn’t look like we have much choice.”
“No, I suppose we don’t.” I gave Abner my best scowl which is pretty damned impressive, let me tell you. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to bother the lump of clay one bit. “What does old Rollie want from me?”
The golem gave me a slow nod. “I expect, given what you told the director, you will find the Magus’s terms to be agreeable to you.” I probably wouldn’t agree, but I wasn’t going to interrupt the slow, ponderous speech of the golem. If I did, I might die of old age before we got out of here. “While the Enders do not need the power of the heart to erase all the world’s magic, you possess the power to stop their ritual. Roland wishes for you to join a small group of Alliance wizards who are going to make a final attempt to end the ritual and rescue Maximilian Perez.”
“Wait, hold on.” I raised a hand as I processed this. Could it really be so easy? “Let’s rewind.”
“I do not understand,” The golem stated, peering at me with muddy eyes.
“Just listen then.” Apparently golems and figures of speech didn’t go together nearly as well as peanut butter and jelly. “You’re telling me all Roland wants me to do is what I already wanted to do?”
See, while Gabby had said Roland and Marcus couldn’t lie directly, this was being delivered by an animated lump of Jewish clay. If I agreed, would I be walking into some magical deal I wasn’t intending? I wasn’t sure, but it seemed best to play it safe.
“I believe that to be correct.” Abner did a slow glance to what would be the top corners of the chamber if it actually had corners like a real piece of architecture. “Decide quickly, Frank Butcher. The prayer that cloaks our parley will fade away before long.”
I wanted with all my heart to be able to get Gabriela’s read on this. Not that I couldn’t yell back to her, but there’s a difference between talking and looking. You know, that sappy shit about the truth being in the eyes. It was sappy, yeah, but I put a lot of stock in it. That and gut decisions that didn’t involve triple beef burritos. Since neither were going to happen, I had to make the call on my own, and there was only one choice I could possibly make.
“Okay, big man, you and your boss have got me in a corner.” When he didn’t move, I let out a sigh. “Yes, Abner, I agree to the damned terms. Now please get us the hell out of here.”
Abner made an echoing grumble as he moved closer to my door. “Yes, Frank Butcher, but I would request you not reference that place for the rest of our short time together.”
12
Abner passed his hand through the air and the cell doors opened. “If we are to traverse to freedom safely, we must keep up appearances.” As I stepped out of the cell, Claymation Man produced a pair of handcuffs from beneath his robe.
“Shit,” I mumbled, eyeing the handcuffs warily. “I can’t blame you, I suppose, but I’m going on record that I don’t like this.” With a disapproving frown, I raised my arms wrists up.
As he clamped the cuffs on, Gabriela walked into view from behind the walking wall of clay. “
As much as I don’t like this, we don’t have any choice in the matter.” Her wrinkled brow and frown were just as I had pictured them.
“So we just stay quiet and look all pissed off and downcast as you lead us to the Promised Land?” I did nothing to hide the snark from my voice. The cuffs were starting to chafe and that was pissing me off. I mean, okay, I’d been wearing them for all of three seconds, but it wasn’t like I enjoyed prisoner-chic.
Abner’s blocky face stayed impassive as he lumbered toward the door. “Indeed, Frank Butcher. It is a classic ploy of deception used by you mortals. Combined with my position of authority, our egress should be without worry.”
Well, that was the fastest way to get Murphy to stick his nose into a situation. I bit my tongue in an effort to avoid bringing down the full weight of his law down upon us as I fell into step next to Gabby behind the talking mudslide.
Abner touched a few of those runes on the round door, and it slid open without a sound. As far as my acting, well, it wasn’t hard to look like a grumpy asshole because I was one at the moment. Hard to believe, I know. Gabby was taking things marginally better, a fact I attributed to her seemingly boundless optimism.
I kept my head down as we trudged through the tube-like tunnel, trying to keep my ears perked for any signs of danger. I couldn’t ignore the feeling something was going to come along and fuck things up. It wasn’t that Abner’s plan wasn’t rock solid because it certainly would have been something I would have tried myself. I was just expecting that good old Butcher luck to rear its ugly head any minute now.
That minute arrived right about the time I noticed Abner’s pace start to slow. It was taking an awfully long time to walk down the hall to the stairs, assuming the bump to my head and the close-range concussion blast from the grenade hadn’t messed up my short-term memory.
Heart of Gold: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Clans of Shadow Book 1) Page 9
