by Devon Monk
Kevin and Violet looked good together. Very natural. Like a father and mother should look. I had never once doubted Violet loved her son. And now I had no doubt that Kevin did too.
Another ache rolled through me, hard enough I held my breath against it. It was strange—Dad wasn’t usually this haphazard with letting his feelings leak. He usually kept them tightly controlled and sealed away from me.
But then, Violet was the only person—well, maybe besides baby Daniel—that I thought he actually loved.
I have always loved you, Allison, he said with the same kind of bittersweet note. Perhaps, someday, you will believe that.
His sorrow was so palpable, I had no idea what to say to him. I had never been in the position to comfort my father. I’d never thought he’d needed or wanted comforting. Certainly not from me.
Violet quickly dressed the baby, then sat on the edge of the bed, her hand on his belly, while he contentedly slobbered on the toy.
“Nineteen,” she said.
“Disks?” I asked, trying to remember what we were talking about.
“Yes. They are each charged with enough untainted magic to power one spell. What exactly is your plan, Allie?”
“We’re going to shut down all the magic in Portland.”
“Do you even know how to do that?” she asked. “There are agencies, paperwork involved. A review process.”
“Not today. Today I’m making the decisions. And if we’re going to stop the hit squad from Seattle and keep more people from getting sick and dying from using magic, we are going dark.”
She shook her head, but a small smile played across her lips. “It isn’t a bad idea. Reckless. Untested, but not without merit. I’m not sure there is a way to safely shut down all access to magic. Your father might have known. He was always planning for any emergency. But if he knew, he never told me.”
And that’s when I knew I’d have to do something I’d been avoiding for almost a year.
“I need to tell you something else,” I said, steeling myself for this. “It’s going to be hard for you to hear. I’d hoped I would never have to say it. Not like this, but I think you need to know. About Dad.”
Kevin’s body language suddenly stiffened. He very much looked like a man who could take me down with one well-placed hit. I looked over at him, met his gaze.
“I have to tell her. They’ll need to work together on the disks.”
Kevin swallowed, then, “Hell. I object. Just so you know.”
“I know.”
“Allie?” Violet said. “What?”
“Violet, Dad died. I know you know that. You were there for his burial. Both of them. But there was a man, a doctor, who was a part of the Authority. He worked in Death and Blood magic and dabbled in dark magic. He was trying to raise my father from the dead.”
Violet was holding very still, listening, absorbing. She had known about the Authority before I did. But Dad had been very careful to keep her sheltered from the worst aspects of it.
“And?” she asked calmly, as if I were a student who hadn’t fully expressed my thesis.
Allison, Dad breathed, no. Oh, please, daughter, no.
His plea made my breath catch in my throat.
“That man contacted Dad’s spirit and chained it down. I tried to free him. Things got confusing—there was a lot of magic being thrown around. By the end of it, Dad was possessing me. A corner of my mind. And he still is.”
Violet had gone a ghastly shade of gray. Little Daniel lost hold of the giraffe and was fussing beneath her hand. She didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I said. “I’m sorry it happened.”
“Daniel?” she exhaled, her eyes searching my face. Looking for a lie, looking for him.
She pulled herself together with visible will and turned to Kevin.
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
He opened and closed his hands. Uncomfortable. Guilty. “None of us thought it would be an ongoing concern. We all thought—We all hoped it would pass. Quickly.”
Those accusing eyes turned to me. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did you keep this from me? All this time?”
“I—no—we didn’t want you to be hurt. Again,” I said honestly. “Dad—I think he thought it was enough for you to go through two burials. He…he still cares for you. And he wants you to live a good life. A happy life.”
“He can speak to you?” she asked.
I opened my mouth, but she stood.
“Let me speak to him. Now.”
Allie, please, Dad begged. I cannot…
You need to. She needs you to.
I stepped aside to allow Dad to come forward in my mind.
He didn’t. So, I reached over to him and dragged him forward, forcing him to stand, mentally, beside me.
Talk to her, I thought.
“Hello, Vi,” he said softly through me.
Her eyes fluttered closed and tears caught in her lashes.
Shame had once told me that everything about me changed when Dad talked through me. My body language, the cadence of my voice, my tone. Zay had told me it was like looking at a different soul behind my eyes.
With just that one sentence, Violet could tell it was Dad.
His emotions flooded through me. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her all of his regrets, wanted to apologize, wanted to tell her he loved her. He had always loved her. But he held still. Uncertain.
After a long moment, she swallowed several times, then tipped her head up just a little to meet my gaze.
“Oh, Daniel,” she said. “I’ve missed you terribly. Every moment.”
“I’ve missed you too, my love,” he said. “This”—he held up my hands in a most helpless gesture—“is not what I wanted for us.”
She bit her lip, holding back tears. “Have you seen our son? Your beautiful baby boy?”
My head nodded. Dad was at a loss for words, struggling with his sorrow.
“I named him Daniel,” she said. “He has your smile. And your temper.” She tried to smile.
The baby had moved from fuss mode to intermittent hollering. Kevin finally picked him up and bounced him in his arms until he settled.
Kevin cast wary glances my way.
“We…I…” Dad’s voice caught and he cleared my throat. “There are times when I can see through Allison’s eyes. She visited you at the hospital the day he was born.”
“You were there?” she asked.
He nodded. “He is beautiful. Just like you. There are so many things I want to apologize for. Things I regret—”
“Don’t,” she said. “I don’t regret a single moment. The time we had was brilliant. You were brilliant.”
I felt myself smile sadly. “Brilliant?” He shook my head. “Oh, Violet, I had such plans for us. For our life together. I wanted long years with you. With our children. I am sorry for my failures.”
“You didn’t fail me,” she said gently. “You have never failed me. Even this”—she pressed her hand gently against my cheek and laughed a little—“it’s amazing. You are an amazing man.”
“You make me so,” he said.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said.
Violet’s eyebrows slipped up in surprise. She pulled her hand away.
“It’s me,” I said. “Allie. I’m sorry I can’t give you more time together. Maybe later, after this fight, you can both talk again.”
“I’d like that,” Violet said, searching my eyes.
“As would I,” Dad said.
Violet wiped her fingers across her eyes and stepped back. She took a moment to stare over my shoulder. Then, “We need to access the magic samples in Stone. Can he do that with the disks?” she asked.
Dad’s love and pride slipped through my mind and I knew that this was something he respected and admired in her. Her ability to set her emotions asi
de and tackle a problem with scientific objectivity when necessary.
I can, he thought.
“He said he can.”
“Good,” Violet said. “And do you have a way to shut down magic?”
Dad was thoughtful. There is a master switch we can throw. It will cause a backwash into the wells, but should flush the networks of quiescent magic.
Will there be explosions? I asked.
In theory? It is unlikely. But possible.
And will it hurt people?
Allison, he said, magic always hurts people.
“Dad says there is a master switch we can throw to shut down magic. Where is it?”
“I’m not sure,” she said.
“Sorry. That was for Dad.”
At our condominium. Behind the mantelpiece. Mr. Cooper should be able to find it behind a hollow stone in the stonework.
“Okay,” I said. “It’s at the condo on the mantel behind a hollow stone. He thinks you can find it, Kevin.”
“How do I activate it?” Kevin asked.
Dad stepped forward, and I let him. “Cast Cradle.”
“Cradle? That’s a very gentle spell for an entire city’s network to respond to.”
“It is only as gentle as the user. Cradle will trigger the magic back to its source—the wells. Then an automatic backwash will seal the glyphs and close the networks and cisterns, rendering them inactive until we need the system to be accessible again.”
“You built an off switch into the networks?” Kevin asked. “Did you even tell anyone about it? About having a switch—in your living room—that could override spells you worked into the lifeblood of this city’s magic to shut down magic for good?”
“The network was my project, Mr. Cooper,” Dad said, sounding annoyed. “My technology, my money, my risk. The decisions I made were of my own counsel. Of course I built an override for the system at my disposal.”
Okay, that was enough of that. I shut my mouth. Firmly.
Dad wasn’t very happy with Kevin, but I was pretty sure it had more to do with the fact that Kevin was holding his only son in his arms than that he was questioning his morals with magic technology.
Or hell, maybe it was both.
Dad didn’t like losing. And when it came to being alive, Kevin had him beat.
“The details don’t matter,” I said, glad to have my voice, mouth, and words again. “Right now, the fact that no one knows about this override means the Overseer probably doesn’t know about it and Seattle probably doesn’t know about it. Kevin, can you cast Cradle?”
“It’s not a difficult spell,” he groused. “I was just surprised that he chose it.”
Which is why I chose it, Dad said, exasperated.
I didn’t let him forward again because I was so not going to get in a yelling match with Kevin.
“Kevin, please take however many people you’ll need with you and shut the networks immediately.”
“I can do it alone.”
“No, take someone,” I said, heading toward the door. “If something goes wrong, you want backup. No argument. None of us travels alone.”
Violet took Daniel from Kevin’s arms. There was a moment, fleeting, when their eyes met and they both smiled.
Dad, inside my head, closed himself away, leaving the sharp bite of his sorrow and regret behind.
Chapter Six
We’d lost almost an hour getting everyone on the same page. Frankly, I was more than a little surprised that all these high-level officials in the city were just falling into place and taking my word for what was going on and what needed to be done.
This was probably not the first time in Authority history that unforeseeable changes had called for quick thinking and across-all-lines cooperation. Magic, after all, had never been an easy force to deal with.
“What we need right now,” I said to Shame, Terric, and Zayvion as I strode with them toward the library where Violet said she’d have the disks ready for us, “is to decide what combination of spells we will cast on the wells. We need something that will bite if anyone tries to tap into the magic.”
“I don’t recall anyone ever asking me to booby-trap magic before,” Shame said. “May I just say it is about time. What do you think, Z? Know some counterspells with a bite?”
“That Seattle won’t know?” Zay pressed his lips together, thinking about it.
“Reflect?” Terric suggested.
“It casts a shadow in the stream. They’d see it in time to break it,” Zay said.
“Tangle,” Shame said. “You know, old school.” He pointed one finger and started drawing the spell.
“Don’t!” Zay and I said at the same time.
He paused, his finger still stuck out in front of him. “What? I was just illustrating my point.”
“We know what Tangle looks like,” Zay said. “And we’ve seen the way you handled Light.”
Shame’s eyes twinkled. “That little scuffle back there with the Proxies? Aw, that was just for kicks. I know how to control magic.”
Zay and I didn’t say anything.
“What?” Shame asked.
“Maybe,” I said. The one test they’d taken had laid low three hundred people.
They were a huge unknown right now.
“You don’t trust me.”
“I understand you,” I said. “I know what it’s like to be changed by magic. To have it take over and make everything about using magic different. I’ve been there, Shame.”
He was still smiling, but there was a hardness to him, an anger, a darkness. My very good friend was also a dangerous man.
“I trust you, Shame. I just don’t trust you with magic right now.”
He gave me this look—I didn’t know if it was anger, or hate, or something else. Something dark and hungry. I didn’t know what was going through his mind.
Terric must have. He just said one word, quietly, “Shame.” Not a warning. More like a reminder.
Shame inhaled and exhaled, the darkness lashing around him like whips, then settling again.
“Really annoyed I have to prove this to you,” he said.
“You don’t. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
“Leave it, Flynn,” Zayvion said. “We’re all tired. None of us should be trusted with magic right now. But it is what it is.”
We had stopped outside the door to the library and Zayvion took half a step toward Shame, sort of positioning himself between us, and wrapped his arm around me.
“And,” Zay said, “if you ever look at Allie like that again, I’m going to put you flat on your back to give you a little time to reconsider your manners.”
Shame actually laughed and leaned back on one foot, giving Zay a long look. “Really? You’re going there? It has been forever since you’ve threatened me, Jones. Are you feeling a little uncertain about your abilities? Want to test them out on me, mate?”
“You and I are not getting in a fight,” Zayvion said. “Not unless you want to spend the next week unconscious.”
Shame narrowed his eyes, considering Zayvion.
Since Zay’s arm was around me, I knew that even though he looked calm and magnanimous while he was threatening Shame, he was in no mood for bullshit. If Shame decided to push this, he was going to put him down.
And beneath that decision, I felt another thread of emotion from Zay. Not fear, but a wariness, a concern. For his friend. His brother, who had changed so much in such a short time and who had had no chance to recover or regain his footing.
Zayvion knew he might have to be the one to stop Shame if he lost control.
Any magic user who lost control was dangerous. But when a Death magic user lost control, people were going to die.
Like Jingo? I thought, surprised at what had crossed Zay’s mind.
Shame could never be like Jingo, Zayvion thought. And he meant it.
But I watched the darkness and death roil around Shame, just as Death magic had cloaked Jingo, and had my doubts.
>
Shame could be like Jingo Jingo. Just as powerful, just as deadly. Maybe more deadly since he’d been the one who killed Jingo Jingo.
Holy shit.
“Set a combination of Rebound and Tangle on it,” Terric said, changing the subject to my great relief. “On the wells, beneath Tangle. One disk can also power a combined spell. They won’t see that unless they’re on the edge of the wells looking in. Rebound isn’t used anymore, so even if Seattle suspects we booby-trapped the wells—which they shouldn’t because, who does that?—they won’t be looking for Rebound. I assume we aren’t going to let them get close enough to the wells to actually look into them?”
“That’s right,” I said, while Shame and Zayvion glared at each other. “I have the Hounds out to trip them up and slow them down. Can we make the spells on the well refresh so that anyone who pulls magic will get their wrists slapped?”
“If we set Refresh over Tangle and Rebound, it won’t be their wrists that are slapped,” Terric said, “it will be their heads. And they will be unconscious.”
“Even though we’re only using one disk to power all three spells?” I asked.
“The spells will be drawn and cast as one spell,” Terric said. “Each component of that combined spell will only take a third of the magic in the disk to work. Together the parts will be much more powerful than the sum.”
“Good,” I said.
“Good?” Terric asked. “You do know if we set those spells, everyone who draws magic from the wells will also get slapped. Including us.”
“I know,” I said. “Are you two done?” I asked Shame and Zayvion.
“Are we?” Zay asked Shame.
“Not hardly,” Shame said.
Fine. They could glare and threaten. I had things to take care of. I noticed Eli Collins standing in the shadows at the end of the hallway and ducked out from under Zay’s arm. I strolled over to him.
Collins the Cutter had been Closed and kicked out of the Authority years ago. But he had also saved Davy’s life and stood with us against Jingo Jingo. He possessed a sharp, if immoral, intellect and was currently one of the people I planned to use to help us win the fight with Seattle and the battle with Leander and Isabelle.
