by Devon Monk
“Allie,” Terric called after me, “you’re shutting down the networks, you’re booby-trapping the wells. How are we supposed to defend ourselves without magic?”
Zayvion followed me, but Shame stayed behind, hopefully cooling down.
“We are going to fight the old-fashioned way,” I said. “Dirty. Dr. Collins, I need to talk to you.”
The bruising on his face had faded some, though a ragged edge of brownish red licked along his hairline and jaw. He was still a little puffy from the price he’d paid using magic to save Davy, and then to fight Jingo Jingo. He didn’t seem to be in pain, standing cool and crisp in a button-down shirt, vest, and slacks. His round wire-rimmed glasses gave him that stiff, educated air that made him seem older than the thirty or thirty-two I guessed his age to be.
“Allison,” he said. “Zayvion.”
I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know Zay was scowling at him.
Eli shifted away from the wall, and nodded toward Terric and Shame.
“What about them?” he asked.
“What about them?” I asked.
“Do you think they’re stable?” he asked.
“You asking if they’re stable?” Zayvion said. “Ironic.”
Eli just gave Zay a droll look.
“If you have a point,” I said, “tell me now. I’m a little busy.”
“Terric and Shame aren’t stable, is my point. If I were in a position to have a say in such things, I’d get them out of Portland to some place with little to zero naturally occurring magic for a month at least. Then I’d slowly reintroduce them to magic.”
“Do you think they’re that much of a danger?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I can only assume. I may be wrong. There is very little…research on Soul Complements. That’s what they are, isn’t it? That’s why they were able to do what they did on the battlefield together?”
“Yes.” I figured there was no point hiding it.
“Two men,” Collins mused. “Since I am certain Victor hasn’t fully restored my memories, would you, Zayvion, tell me if in the history of the Authority there have ever been Soul Complements of the same gender?”
“None that were tested,” Zay said. “It doesn’t mean they didn’t exist. It just means either they didn’t find each other, or they did, but were never tested.”
“Still…I am curious. What is Shame and Terric’s sexual orientation?”
“None of your business,” Zay said, short. Final.
“So I can assume there’s tension in that aspect of the relationship,” he mused. “Interesting.”
Zayvion cracked his knuckles, giving Eli the kind of look that I’d seen him use only right before he was going to punch someone in the face.
“You,” I said, touching Zayvion’s arm, but talking to Collins, “should not assume anything. Not with Shame. Not with Terric. All I need from you is an informed opinion on one of my father’s technologies.”
“I would have thought you, of all people, would have access to that information,” Collins murmured.
I knew he was talking about Dad being in my head. Maybe I could trust Dad to tell me everything I needed to know. But habit, caution, and lack of time made me want to bring all hands on deck before we destroyed Portland with guesswork.
“The more opinions I have, the better.” I strode down to the library and through the open door. Violet was there, and little Daniel was in a playpen. Kevin leaned over the soft netted walls of the playpen and placed several toys next to him.
I took in the rest of the room. A few chairs stood along the walls of books, and a table centered the room, as if waiting for a banquet.
“Hello, everyone,” I said. “We’re short on time, so let’s get to this.”
I thought about sitting down but couldn’t stop pacing. Time was ticking. We needed answers on how to cleanse the wells, and quickly.
“Where are the disks?” I asked.
“I’ve sent for them,” Violet said. “They should be here any moment. I see several approaches to this problem.”
Dad, in my mind, stirred. He wanted to listen to Violet, hear her voice, even if he couldn’t talk to her. Even if he could never be with her again.
“I believe we can use nonmagical resources to find a solution to this problem,” she said, “but I’m not sure they would do enough fast enough. I suggest we use magic to cleanse magic.”
“Fire with fire?” Eli Collins walked across the room and gave Violet a fetching smile. “I do like the way you think, Mrs. Beckstrom.”
I had forgotten he was following us.
Distracted much?
“And you are?” she asked.
“Collins. Dr. Eli Collins.” He extended his hand. “I did some…work with your husband several years ago, when the concept for the disks was still in its infancy.”
“He never mentioned you.”
Collins smiled. “I don’t suppose he would have. Mr. Beckstrom was a very private man.”
Violet shot a glance my way, then pressed her lips together. “Yes,” she said evenly, “he was. I believe we can use the stored magic in the disks to inject the cure we’ve been working on. Magic appears to respond quickly and positively to the mix of magic in the Animate—Stone—when combined with the stronger restorative spells.”
“So you think if we add the magic from Stone into a disk, we can then pour that into a well to purify it?” I asked.
“I believe so.” She looked up at me. “Do you think the disks can be calibrated to respond to casting through each magical discipline?”
Wow. I had no fricking idea. I didn’t even know why she was asking me that.
She wasn’t asking you, Dad said. Tell her yes. Each user can first cast a Prime on the disk. The disk should allow for the subtleties of discipline to transfer that specific expression of the spell to its host well.
I took a breath, hoping I was going to repeat this correctly. “Yes. Each user should cast Prime first. Then the disk will allow the details—”
Subtleties of discipline, Dad corrected.
“—I mean subtleties of discipline to transfer that spell to its host well.” Did that cover it? I asked him.
Close enough, yes.
“Good,” she said with a small smile. “We have a theory. We’ll need to do testing.”
“No time for testing,” I said. “We’re going to take the disks out to one of the wells, cast the spells you think are best, and hope it works.”
Everyone in the room stared at me like I’d just announced there was no such thing as gravity.
“No,” Violet said. “That’s a very bad idea, Allie. If cast incorrectly, it could kill the user and possibly damage the well.”
“We don’t have time to be careful,” I said. “A handful of us will take this risk and then we can make a better decision after we see the results.”
“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is,” she said.
“Each disk holds enough magic to power one strong spell, right?” I asked.
She nodded.
“So we use one disk to open the well, one disk to purify it, one to close it, and one disk to cast a triple spell to keep people out of it. Four disks per well, four magic users per well. I do understand how dangerous this is.”
Zay, standing behind me at the head of the room, didn’t shift, but I could feel his presence as if he were pressed against me. There was no chance he’d leave me to do this alone.
“Since I can’t use magic, I’ll need at least two more people other than Zayvion to volunteer to go with us. If someone has a good knowledge of the disks, that would be welcome.”
“I believe I’m your man,” Collins said.
Good. I was hoping he’d step up.
Violet frowned. I could tell she was torn between going with us to deal with magic and science, and staying here with little Daniel.
Finally, she nodded. “I want you to have a cell phone. Also, Kevin, I’m going with you to shu
t down the networks.”
“Mrs. Beckstrom,” he said, “I don’t think that’s wise.”
After all this time together, he still called her Mrs. Beckstrom? How old-fashioned could he get?
“It is wise,” she said. “It is in my home, after all.”
Jamar, one of my Hounds, came strolling into the room. “Your disks, Mrs. Beckstrom.” He looked cool and composed, but his dark eyes took in every inch of strained body language in the room, finally resting on me. “You stirring things up again, Allie?”
“Not again. Still.”
He grinned, his teeth a flash of white against his dark complexion. “Where would you like these?” He pointed at the messenger bag slung across his chest.
“On the table please, Mr. Legare,” Violet said. “And thank you for retrieving them.”
He nodded and placed the messenger bag, gently, on the table. “Anything else I can help with?”
“Davy is coordinating the Hounds who are running interference with Seattle hitting Portland. You can talk to him if you want in on that,” I said. “It’s going to be street work, holding up taxis, slowing luggage check-outs, killing cell phone signals. No magic.”
“I heard,” he nodded toward Zayvion. “You’ll let me know if you need any other assistance.”
“I will,” Zay said.
I had to smile. A lot of the Hounds seemed to have found a new respect for Zayvion. Zay had moved about the streets of Portland like a drifter for years and none of the Hounds had suspected how powerful a magic user he was.
That impressed them.
Then the magic fight on the field with Jingo Jingo had left more than one Hound talking about Zayvion Jones. There had been bets placed and a lot of speculation about what the man could really do with magic and with weapons.
Not that Zayvion would tell them what he was capable of.
That only made them all the more curious.
If I wasn’t careful, the Hounds might vote me out and make Zayvion the next den mother. Which would probably drive him crazy and entertain me to no end.
Note to self: Suggest to the Hounds that they elect Zay as leader once all this was over.
Jamar gave me half a salute, then was out of the room.
Violet opened the bag and set all nineteen disks out on the table.
I moved closer to get a look. Dad was just as interested as I was, and I could feel his subtle request to see clearer through my eyes, which I let him do.
I ignored how frightening it was that he and I were starting to operate seamlessly in my mind and my body, like roommates who had finally figured out how to live with each other’s dirty laundry all over the place. He had been in my head for almost a year now. It was becoming, not exactly normal, but sort of comfortable to have him with me.
If I thought about it too much, it would probably freak me out. So I stared at the disks instead.
The disks were all the same size and shape, made of lead and silver, with flecks of black and glints of glass worked into them. I’d gotten a little better at reading obscure glyphs since I’d last seen one of these babies, but the symbols carved into the palm-sized pieces of metal still escaped me.
One thing that didn’t escape me was the electric tingle of magic that hovered around the disks.
The magic in the disks smelled a little like flowers.
I had forgotten how nice magic smelled when it wasn’t tainted. It almost made me want to touch the things.
Almost.
Then I stepped aside while Violet and Collins got busy adjusting the glyphs on the disks so that they would do what we needed them to do: Save the world.
Chapter Seven
It felt like my life was being measured out against the ticking of the second hand. Violet and Collins had worked on sixteen of the disks in record time, leaving three disks we might not have to use.
A group of us—Zay, Collins, me, Stone, and to my surprise, both Shame and Terric—were headed out to the Blood magic well to see if the cure would work. We’d decided to let Shame and Terric come because Soul Complements, even those with little or no control, still had a better chance of making magic do what they wanted it to do.
Plus, it kept them in our line of sight so Zay could shut them down if needed.
Zay drove Terric’s van, with Terric in the passenger’s seat and Shame and me in the middle seat. Collins rested with his eyes closed in the backseat, while Stone, next to him, watched the city rush past.
Stone was a gargoyle and Animate, which meant he was built to carry magic and to seem lifelike. He glowed a soft blue-white and threw shadows and light around the inside of the van as he hopped on and off the seat.
Ever since Cody had unlocked him, Stone had gone glowbug on us. It was cute, really. Not so bright that it hurt my eyes, nor was he any warmer to the touch than he usually was. He seemed to take all the recent chaos in stride, as if becoming a lightbulb was simply the newest fashion for the modern gargoyle on the town.
I didn’t know how long his glow was going to last, but if the electricity ever went out, he was going to be a handy four-footed flashlight to have around.
Despite Detective Stotts reminding people not to do anything illegal, all of us were carrying our weapons.
The Hounds were already on the road, having decided who was going to throw roadblocks in the Seattle crew’s path when and where. Davy had done a good job coordinating it with the police, and it looked like they weren’t going to have any trouble slowing down the people from Seattle. The reports we’d gotten indicated that at least a dozen people—far less than I’d expected and an even mix of men and women—were coming our way. Some were driving, a few were flying.
I didn’t know how they thought twelve people could shut down an entire city, but I wasn’t going to underestimate their ability either.
We had a half hour lead on them, tops, even with the Hounds running interference.
“So we go in,” Shame said, crunching his way through a bag of potato chips, “open the well, make Stone spit in it, then close it up?”
“No,” I said. “We open the well with one disk. We use another disk to extract some of the magic Stone is carrying and pour it into the well. Then we close the well with another disk and set the blended spells of Rebound, Refresh, and Tangle with a last disk.”
“Isn’t that what I said?” He dug out another handful of crisps.
Maeve had practically forced Shame to eat something before we left, and he’d finally chowed down on a sandwich. His mood had improved like a thousand percent, something that did not escape Zayvion’s, Terric’s, or my notice.
But the thing that was really telling to me was that the darkness around him seemed more settled and quiet, with fewer tentacles reaching out.
Death magic was a discipline of energy transference and exchange. A very real one-to-one cost for giving and receiving, using and accepting. A fuel-and-burn kind of approach to magic. I wondered if food would help to sate the hunger of dark magic that hovered around Shame.
He dipped his fingers into the bag again, then paused with the chips halfway to his mouth. “When are Kevin and Violet throwing the switch?”
“Should be any time now,” I said. “Why?”
“Because I think—” He glanced at Terric, then looked away quickly.
I looked at Terric too. He nodded. “It’s coming.”
The light across the city around us snuffed out—a wave of darkness washing over the hills and streets. We were just hitting the bridge to Vancouver. Streetlamps blacked, lights from boats on the river, from houses along the river flickered and were gone. The headlights, luckily, stayed on as it was a requirement that all moving vehicles operate under nonmagical force.
Terric whistled. “That’s something to see.”
The darkness rolled across the river, snuffed out the lights and towers on the other side, reaching like a hand, fingers stretching north.
Then, like intermittent strikes of flint, sparks of light flicker
ed to life in the wave of darkness.
The city came back to life, glowing white and yellow with electricity alone, without any of the enhanced hues of pink, lavender, blue, or green. It was strangely beautiful, almost like a city out of an old-fashioned, nonmagical past, like someone had thrown gold and diamonds against the velvet hills and set them to shine with watery, earthly light.
And then the bridge caught fire, bright hard white snapping alive and carving cones of silver down around the road and all the cars, red emergency lights at the top of the metalwork pulsing like a silent, defiant heartbeat.
Alive, the city seemed to be saying. Even without magic, Portland still lived.
“Almost pretty,” Shame said, wiping his fingers before rolling up the empty bag. “Although I’m sure that’s not what most people are thinking right now.”
He was right. It had been years, for some people their entire lifetime, since the city had been run without magic. Even though all of the services were bolstered by magic, the regulations and laws early on had made it a requirement that all businesses and residences could function on alternate power sources.
Most homes ran on nonmagic power anyway. It cost too much in pain to run your house on magic.
The people who would probably be the most inconvenienced with the lack of magic were businesses that catered to the luxuries magic could provide, and the hospitals that would be without medical spells.
Which was why we’d take care of this as quickly as we could. Cure magic. Stop the Seattle crew from shutting down Portland and Closing magic users. Then we’d find a way to stop Leander and Isabelle, or convince someone outside Portland that the Overseer had been possessed, and needed to be unpossessed.
“Seattle is following orders from the Overseer, right?” I said.
“Uh, Allie?” Shame said. “That news flashed about an hour ago.”
“What I’m asking is, do we have anyone else on our side? Someone outside of Portland who would listen to us instead of the Overseer?”
“There might be a few individuals,” Zay said. “But no one speaks against the Overseer’s direct orders. Not without heavy evidence.”
