I asked, “What kind of event? I don’t rememb—”
“That’s just it!” Jenni interrupted me. “It’s triggered by memory. You try to remember certain things, and wham! Bad things happen.”
“I think you’ve both lost me,” I said.
Everything flickered again.
“You won’t even remember this conversation,” the woman said.
Mayfair touched my chin, and I turned to him.
“From the start,” he said. “The web of magic has been a mystery to us. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a paradox. From my perspective, it’s the most intricate weave of magic I have ever seen. I can’t find anything anywhere describing something like it. Everything I know about magic tells me something like this shouldn’t even be possible. Yet here it is, and worse, it’s breaking down. Why?”
“I don’t know,” I said. That music video, the band, the clothes, I loved it. I wanted more. Pop was horrified. His daughter loved disco. Still, he bought me the whole album. I wore it out. Know every note.
“Someone capable of such a complex spell wouldn’t let it fail this way,” he said. “Whoever did this wanted to protect you, not hurt you.”
“But something else,” said Jenni, “something they couldn’t plan for, is breaking it down.”
“Now the spell is trying to fulfill its purpose,” Mayfair added. “But the damage is too great, and the whole thing is attacking you, hurting you physically, causing memory loss and nosebleeds and who knows what else. How are you feeling right now?”
“Confused but okay,” I replied.
“Could it kill her?” Jenni asked. She had a death grip on my hand.
“All of this is conjecture,” he replied, “albeit backed up with a hefty dose of circumstantial evidence, but yes, I think it could.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Crushed, I sat back in my chair.
Why did it seem like the whole world wanted me dead all of a sudden? Did whoever put this thing in my head know it could backfire and kill me? Just thinking about it made the pain come back, so I concentrated on “Dancing Queen” for a second, and it subsided.
“What’s our next step?” Jenni asked.
“Research,” Mayfair answered, emptying his cup. “There has to be a book out there somewhere. I would reach out to some of the other Stewards, but honestly, I’m afraid of how they’ll react.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “They probably already know, but there’s being secretly fed information by Nevil, and then there’s my actually admitting it.”
“They’ll want me dealt with,” I said, heart in my throat. More people who would want me dead.
“Yes,” he said. “I won’t let them.”
“I can help,” Jenni offered.
“No!” Mayfair and I said in stereo.
Jenni, nonplussed, said, “Look, you,” punctuated with a finger pointed at Mayfair. “You just said your own people can’t be trusted. This Nevil guy sounds like a real peach, and I don’t want him anywhere near this just based on what the two of you’ve said. If you can’t trust the people on the inside, trust an outsider. Like me. I’ve got mad research skills. I can help without Nevil or anyone else ever knowing. Think of me like a secret weapon.”
My head nodding thoughtfully, I stopped and scowled. “Did you not hear the death threat part?”
“Heard it, rejected it,” Jenni said, chin up. “Besides, what are the alternatives? Let Sam’s condition worsen? You can’t ask me to sit around doing nothing! Not now that I know. I can help you if you let me.”
Mayfair grumbled. “This argument sounds very familiar.”
“Best friends,” Jenni said with a smile. “Have to expect some of her to rub off on me.”
The prospect of Jenni being sucked further into this world chilled me to the bone. I had a sudden and horrifying image of a new box showing up on my doorstep, this one with a much more familiar severed head inside. I shuddered.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Who is going to watch your back better than me?” Jenni said.
“No one,” I admitted.
“You actually want to put her in more danger?” Mayfair asked.
“Of course not,” I said hotly. “But what choices do we have? You can’t do this on your own, and I apparently can’t do it at all without having seizures.” You are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen …
“I’m going in with my eyes wide open,” Jenni said. “I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them.”
“I really hate this idea,” Mayfair grunted. “What am I supposed to do with her?”
Thinking about it for a moment, I said, “Where is Nevil right now?”
“Probably home. He leaves Banba around six at night, comes back at eight in the morning. Why?”
I smiled. “The library is unattended.”
Jenni snapped her fingers. “We pull an all-nighter. Okay, we’re gonna need Diet Coke, pizza, sour gummy worms, microwave popcorn, and hot Buffalo wing pretzel bites.”
“I can’t go with you,” I said.
Jenni’s smile vanished. “Why not?”
“Pop, remember?” I asked. “Someone has to stay with him.”
“Oh,” she said. “Right.”
“Fine,” said Mayfair, rising. “If we’re doing this, let’s get it over with.”
Jenni jumped up and gave me a hug.
Mayfair said, “You change everything, Sam.”
“Thank you?” I said.
He grunted. “I never would’ve agreed to this a couple days ago. That’s all I’m saying.”
They left, and the room went cold.
All I could think about was how Jorge had died because I made him change. How many more people would follow him to an early gave because of me?
* * *
I bought another bottle of water and headed into the corridor. Somewhere, I heard Jenni’s voice.
“What do you mean, alternative transportation?” she asked.
A loud pop filled the air. So. That’s what it sounded like when you weren’t in the middle of it all.
Alone, I finished the bottle of water Jenni’d bought and tossed it into a recycling bin.
The sixth floor hadn’t changed much. Same empty waiting room. Different lady not looking up at me from behind the glass as she buzzed me in. The clock on the wall read 8:30. Only two hours had passed?
The last thing I wanted was to put another person I love in danger, yet this nagging, raspy voice in my head told me it would be fine, so I tried to let it go. Jenni could take care of herself. Anything she couldn’t handle, I prayed Jack Mayfair could. What if he couldn’t? The weight in my stomach crashed down, and the bile rose up. I swallowed it down, breathing through my nose.
Following the blue line, I found Pop’s room and quietly crept inside. Nothing much had changed here, either. Pop still slept at the center of a machine sea, tubes and wires connecting him to various machines arranged around the head of the bed. I checked his covers, made sure they were good and tight the way he liked them. I slid a small recliner from the corner over where I could sit beside him, hold his hand.
The chair appeared comfortable enough. It lied. Kind of like sitting on leather covered wood, no padding. Rummaging through the cabinets, I found an extra blanket and a couple of small pillows. Getting comfortable? Not in the cards. The chair seemed designed for torture; plus, my gun kept jabbing into my back, so I shifted the holster to the side and shoved one of the pillows between my back and the chair. The footrest worked. I pushed back to raise it. I felt like I hadn’t just sat in days. Reaching out, I took my dad’s hand in mine and closed my eyes.
Maria Mendoza waited for me. Dressed all in black and standing over a fresh grave, she started yelling at me, hand raised as if to strike. My eyes snapped open. My cheek began to burn.
“How about some television, Pop?” I asked.
Fishing around, I found the remote for the TV. I kept the volume low and started changing ch
annels. The thick yellow cord kept the remote tethered to the wall behind Pop’s head, so I didn’t have a lot of slack, but it worked.
“The demons are after the Book of Shadows!” said the perky witch on the left. She used to share my name, once upon a time and on another show.
I turned the channel. The blue flicker from the television had a numbing effect. More than enough to keep my mind focused away from dead people, mourning women, magical death, and angry cops. Pop’s hand in mine, I sighed. Gonna be a long night.
I prayed everyone would make it through unharmed.
Wiping my eyes, I settled in for the long haul.
Chapter Twenty-four
“Hello, Sam.”
I turned to Anna, her hair dull in the gloom hanging around the castle. Even standing on the tallest tower, the gray fog had settled in all around us. Frustrated, I tried to make out any detail beyond, but the fog gave up no secrets. Dense, it made the world seem close and confined.
“So very high today. Do you not fear falling?” she asked.
“I think I can fly,” I replied, staring down at my toes. The stone beneath them was cold, the wind up here strong, but I kept a good grip with my left hand so I wouldn’t fall.
The same wind didn’t seem to touch Anna, her golden hair barely stirring while my own red hair danced around my head, whipping back and forth as if to a rhythmic beat I couldn’t hear.
“Still, let’s not test that theory.” She held her hand out to me, and I hesitated.
Letting go would be bad; I knew it in my heart. Falling would be worse—I knew that, too. I stared at her hand, then at mine. I clutched so hard my knuckles had gone white.
“What are you holding on to, Sam?” she asked.
How could my hand feel empty and full all at the same time? I stood atop the highest tower in Avalon, clutching … what?
“It’s okay to let go, you know,” she said softly.
Nodding, I took her hand and let her help me down off the stone. Together, we strolled around the tower, then onto the walkway connecting it to one of the smaller towers below. Dozens more stretched out before us, each connected by bridges and walkways, circling round and round the large main castle.
“I wanted to see beyond the walls,” I said.
“I know. He makes it difficult. There are weeks when I see no sunlight at all.”
“Is it the same man?” I asked.
“As the one who has marked you? No. I have my own troubles. I’m surprised you remembered.”
“It’s hard. I do and I don’t, if that makes any sense.”
“It does. You’re fighting him. Good. His hold on you is tenuous. I don’t think he is afraid of you, but he fears what you represent.”
“What do I represent?”
“The future.”
We walked on for a bit, down a short staircase, through an arched doorway, and onto another walkway, spiraling our way through the outer towers and ever closer to the main keep. There wasn’t another soul in sight, nor any sound beyond our own footfalls on the stone. I wore no shoes, Anna these homemade-looking sandals that clicked on the stone.
“It’s quiet,” I remarked.
“Yes,” she said, voice taking on a sudden warmth. “Once upon a time, life filled these corridors. Men, women, children—people from every race and every walk of life came here to learn. Now—” She sighed. “Now we are empty and surrounded by death.”
Again we fell silent. I had this vague memory of coming here before, as hazy as the horizon beyond this castle. Just like the fog, I felt like I could reach out and touch it, but I knew if I tried, it would just slip through my fingers like so much smoke.
“There’s something important,” I said.
“There always is,” she replied. Pausing on a short bridge, she stared out at the fog.
“Tell me. What’s out there?”
“War. Perhaps the last we’ll see. An army sits on my doorstep to keep me from intervening. Not that I could. Not anymore.”
“A whole army? Just for you?”
“Just for me. Do you remember your last visit? The lessons I taught you?”
I paused, trying to remember. “No,” I admitted.
“You say that each time,” she laughed.
Suddenly, lightning arced out of the sky, cutting a ragged path down towards me at a frightening speed. Quickly weaving Air and Spirit together, I formed a shield above us. The energy cracked and popped but did not penetrate through to where we stood.
As fast as it began, the lightning died.
I took several rapid, ragged breaths, a memory breaking through.
Jack Mayfair spun, Fire dancing between his hands. With a motion, he pushed the Fire away from him, and it sped towards me. Air and Spirit wove together before me, forming a shield, keeping the Fire away from me, the blue flames dancing along the surface.
“I do remember,” I said. “When I leave here, part of me remembers.”
“Excellent,” Anna said. “That is how you fight him.”
“Who is he?” I asked.
She walked away, leaving me to stare at the sky and then at my hands. After a moment, I ran after her.
“Teach me more?”
“As you wish,” she called over her shoulder.
* * *
“Sam? Sam, wake up.”
Grumbling, I opened my eyes.
Jack Mayfair stood over me, the eerie green light from the machines casting his face in a death mask.
I shuddered.
“What?” I asked, pushing the covers aside.
He stood up and offered me a hand, but I waved it away.
My back ached, trumpeting the first in a slew of complaints from my body. A comfy chair this was not. Rising slowly, my head spun. I went to the sink and took several drinks using my hand as a cup.
“We found something, Jennifer and I,” he said.
“Oh, Jennifer, is it, now?” I said. Great, my gay best friend and my Jedi Master are bonding. That won’t blow up in my face somehow.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
I turned back to him, not really sure myself why I’d said it. “Nothing. Forget it. What did you find?”
He shook his head. “I have to show you. At Banba.”
My dad still slept. Didn’t even look like he’d moved at all since I fell asleep, whenever that’d happened.
Mayfair said softly, “I’ll have you back before anyone knows you’re gone. Promise.”
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Two in the morning,” he answered.
Steeling myself, I agreed.
Mayfair took me by the hand, and suddenly we were in the Magical Mystery Tour Tunnel of Unlove. I had just long enough to regret my decision before we were standing in the library at Banba, solid wood under my feet again. My stomach roiled, but I didn’t lose the little bit of food I’d eaten hours before. Achievement unlocked.
“So that’s what it looks like.”
Turning at the sound of a familiar voice, Jenni sat cross-legged on the large red carpet where Nevil’s desk had been before. There were piles of books arranged all around her. Realizing I’d never actually seen the other side of teleportation, I asked, “What did it look like?”
“Sort of like a bamf,” she replied.
“Bamf? What’s a bamf?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes at me. “You never actually read the comic books I shoved into your hands, did you?”
“I read some of them,” I admitted. Aquaman, PlasticMan, Archie and Jughead—you know, the classics.
“Well, a bamf is what Nightcrawler from the X-Men does when he teleports. It’s all smoke and sulfur.”
Come to think of it, that’s what I smelled the first time I ever met Jack Mayfair. And subsequent times since.
“How’s your dad?” she asked.
“No change,” I answered. “Going old school, I see.” Crouching down didn’t hurt all that much, I lied to myself, and I picked up one of
the books from the piles surrounding her like a little fort. The contents appeared to be all in German. I did notice she had her little computer open before her, a USB modem-thing flashing away on the side, and her power cord snaking out to an orange extension cord disappearing into the shadows of the stacks.
“Yep.” She grinned. “Although digitizing all of this wouldn’t be a bad idea. One stray match, and poof! Plus, you can’t spotlight search books. What do you say, Jack? Should I bring in a book scanner?”
“I say one step at a time,” he said like a man facing an army about to destroy his entire village. “Show her what we found.”
“Okay.” Jenni pointed to the books arranged around her. “These were all hidden.”
“Hidden?” My ears perked up. I spoiled my excitement by yawning and groaning in unison as the hour, my exhaustion, and the aches and pains from the chair of doom hit me all at once.
“Yes,” she replied. “Nevil had a secret stash under the floorboards. More than one, actually. This half,” she said, pointing to the stacks on her left, “are what Jack calls ‘dark arts’ books. Everything from here on—” She drew a line with her hand. “—is about the case Jack has been working for the past year.”
I whistled through my teeth. Nevil had been a bad, bad boy. “Any idea why he was hiding these?”
“Not yet,” Mayfair said. “But just the fact he did is pretty damning.”
“Why here?” I asked. “I mean, if you were going to hide books and evidence, wouldn’t you do it somewhere a bit more controllable? This is your house, after all, not his.”
“I don’t know,” Mayfair said. “For now, it’s bad enough he had these and wasn’t sharing. The little bits I’ve read so far shed a lot of light on my case. I could throttle him for hiding all of this from me.”
“Show her the board,” Jenni said, grinning.
Mayfair crossed the rug to where an old chalkboard stood in the shadows and dragged it out into the light. Chicken scratch covered the surface.
And understand, when I use the term chicken scratch, I’m insulting chickens the world over. Actually, this served as definitive proof that the incomprehensible language used by doctors had been adopted by Wizards as well.
Into the Fire Page 19
