by R. L. King
“Magic?”
“Not that I can see. And that makes me nervous. I don’t see anything, though. Do you?”
“Probably no traps here since that right-side hallway is open, but let’s check anyway.” Zack used his spray can again, and let out a low whistle when the fog filled the near end of the hallway. “This lady really doesn’t want anybody in her place.”
This time, the green beam originated above the open doorway, slicing diagonally down to the left and ending near the floor on the other side. Another one a few feet down did the opposite.
Stone and Zack quickly and carefully slipped past the beams, Stone keeping magical sight up at all times to make sure nothing surprised them. As they passed the opening, they saw that it gave way to a large room, sparsely furnished with dark pieces. Beyond the room, floor-to-ceiling windows covered its entire far-side wall, except where a large sliding door provided access to an open terrace.
Once they got past the two diagonal beams, no more appeared in Zack’s spray fog. Stone paused to take one more look with magical sight before they passed the mirror, paying particular attention to it, the statues, and the opening itself. He shook his head at Zack, indicating that he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Even so, his wariness continued as they passed through the opening and moved past the statues. He more than half expected either something to come shooting down from the top of the opening, or the statues to attack them.
Neither happened. They made it through with no trouble and stopped again on the other side.
“Should be just up here,” Zack whispered. “Door on the left side. Shine the light.”
Stone held his hand up toward the left-side wall and frowned. “Are you sure?”
The long wall his light illuminated revealed several paintings and a pair of wall sconces, but no doors. “This is the spot,” Zack said. “I’m sure of it.” He glanced back toward the hallway they’d just traversed. “Unless the plans were wrong…”
“Hold on, let me take a look. Keep watch.”
He switched back to magical sight and swept his gaze up and down the hallway, looking for any sign of illusion or hidden traps.
At first he didn’t see it. His heart beat faster and his breathing quickened as he struggled to focus; a minute passed, then two, then three.
“Uh…” Zack whispered, touching his arm. “Anything?”
“Not yet. It doesn’t look like—”
But wait! As he directed his scrutiny for the third time to a section in the center of the wall, something shimmered. He barely saw it, dancing at the periphery of his magical vision as his gaze continued on. Tensing, he stopped and looked back.
Aha. There it was. A damned good illusion, no doubt put into place by a top-tier caster. Spotting the telltale edges made it easier to see, but it was still nothing more visible than a brief flash of weak sunlight on the surface of a still lake. Every few seconds, the illusion faded just enough for him to see what was beyond it.
“It’s here,” he whispered, voice strained. “Illusion hiding the door.”
“Can you get through it?” Zack sounded nervous too.
“I can break it, but it will take time.”
“Do you have to break it?”
Stone thought about it a moment and realized he might be right. “Depends on whether I can get through the door on my own.”
“How will I get through? No way I’m seeing through that.”
“You might not have to. Give me a moment, and let’s hope Ms. Nera trusts her illusions enough to skimp on her door lock a bit.”
Trying to open the door while still keeping the illusion in his sight wasn’t easy—it essentially required keeping up two difficult spells at once. If he allowed his view past the illusion to shift, he’d have to put out the effort to see through it again, and it wouldn’t be any easier the second time. The brain was like that—even if you knew intellectually that the illusion wasn’t real, unless you could actually see what was past you it wouldn’t let you continue.
Carefully so as not to disturb his view of the door, he reached out and touched the mechanism holding it locked. If this was a magical lock they could be in trouble, but—
This time, fortune favored them. The lock, though as formidable as the one on the front door, was still mechanical. He held his breath, took hold of the mechanism, and popped it. “Got it,” he said, letting his breath out.
“I still can’t see anything but wall,” Zack said.
“Hold on.” Using telekinesis, Stone pulled the door open. It swung out into the hallway. “Can you see it now?”
Zack peered at it. “Nope. What did you do?”
“Damn. Okay, let me try something else.” Stone snatched another glance back down the hallway, but nothing appeared to have moved.
“Check and see if there’s a ward.”
“Good thought.” He still couldn’t see what was in the room beyond the illusion, but directing his gaze back to the now-open door he focused once again, this time looking for the familiar strands of a ward.
And there it was. It wasn’t the illusion that was blocking his view of the room’s interior, but rather the ordered structure of a powerful ward preventing his magical sight from piercing it. “It’s a few feet in. But we’ve got to get you past the illusion first. Just—try to walk through. It probably won’t work, but I’ve tampered with it enough already that it should have gone off if it was going to.”
Zack looked dubious. “I still don’t see anything but a wall.”
“Just try it.”
He took a couple of tentative steps forward, but stopped at the edge of the illusion. “Nope. Just a wall.”
“Hmm.” Stone thought a moment. “Let’s try something else. You’ll have to trust me, though.”
“Hey, I’ve trusted you to keep my ass out of the fire so far. No point stopping now.”
“Okay. Close your eyes, and no matter what I do, keep them closed. Can you do that?”
“Yeah, but I still know the wall’s there. I don’t think it’ll help.”
“Humor me. Close your eyes.”
When he did, Stone took hold of his shoulders and spun him around several times, like a child playing ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey.’ “Do you know which direction you’re facing?”
“No.”
“All right, good. Now we’re going for a walk. We’re not going through the doorway. Just up the hall a bit.”
“I still don’t think this is going to work.” But nonetheless he stepped gingerly forward, letting Stone propel him along.
Stone walked him up the hall a few feet, then turned him around a few times again and pointed him back the way he’d come. Twice he turned him sideways and took him a few feet forward, trying to disorient him as much as possible. As he approached the door again, he slowed down a bit and concentrated until he could see it past the illusion.
“Now,” he told Zack as he turned him toward the door, “We’re going up the hall again. Then we’ll turn around and give this a try.”
Zack walked along a little more confidently. “Okay, but maybe you shouldn’t have told me we were gonna—”
Stone guided him through the door, then stepped through behind him. “And there we are, safe and sound. You can open your eyes now.”
Startled, Zack looked around. “Holy shit, it worked! I didn’t think it would be that easy.”
“Mind the wards. And yes, it’s quite a bit easier when at least one of the group can see through the illusion. Otherwise that would have been a lot more difficult.”
“We don’t make a half-bad team.”
“If we get what we came for and get out of here safely, I think that will be the end of my cat-burglar days.” For the first time since they’d entered the room, Stone held up his light spell and paid attention to what was in it.
This had to be the place. About twenty feet on a side, the room’s walls were painted in a rich chocolate brown. The floor was some kind of dark exotic hardwood. Various paintings—everything fr
om examples of modern art to old masters—hung at intervals along the walls, interspersed with more sconces providing dim mood lighting. In the center of the floor a dozen black pedestals displayed small sculptures, open books, and other pieces, and beneath them were more elaborately woven rugs. Two marble statues—a male and a female nude figure, both exquisite—stood in the opposite corners. The overall effect was of a small, eclectic, but expertly curated museum.
“Do you see them?” Zack whispered.
It was a bit harder for Stone to spot what he was looking for using only the light spell and the dim illumination from the sconces, but after a moment he did. He pointed. “There’s what I’m after.”
It sat on one of the pedestals in the middle of the group: a box of some pale wood, open to reveal a purple velvet lining with seven finely carved game pieces nestled within it. Even from where he stood, Stone could see that four of them were cracked and dull, while the other three gleamed in the light.
“And there’s the scroll Uncle George wants,” Zack said, pointing to another pedestal on the right side and using Kolinsky’s code name.
“Okay. First we need to get through this ward. You’re up.”
“Yeah.” Zack faced the ward, took a few deep breaths, then nodded.
Stone took his position and gripped Zack’s shoulders, keeping magical sight active so he’d notice if going through the wards set anything off on the other side.
This time, going though still felt like pushing through gelatin, but instead of the faint crackling sensation similar to passing through a teleportation portal, this one felt as if they were traversing a short corridor alive with potent electrical energy. It didn’t hurt—not exactly—but it did feel much more unpleasant than last time. Stone was certain if they weren’t protected by Zack’s talent, they’d be a couple of drifts of charred ash on the floor by now. Not a pleasant thought on the way through.
When they popped out the other side, Zack dropped to his knees, panting even harder than last time. “Shit,” he whispered between breaths. “This lady really doesn’t want anyone jacking her stuff.”
Stone wasn’t surprised. The wards on the hidden areas of his home back in England were likewise of the deadly variety, and he didn’t apologize for it. Most mages had no sense of humor when it came to protecting their collections.
He took a look around while he waited for Zack to recover. The room looked the same as it had on the other side of the ward: hardwood floor, artwork on the walls, pedestals with other items. He examined the rugs with more care—they sported similar intricate magical patterns. “Don’t touch the rugs.”
Zack hauled himself up and studied the area. “How are we going to get them without touching the rugs?”
“Levitation, or telekinesis.”
“Ah, right.”
“What about the cameras?” Stone pointed to a couple of them high in the far corners, above the statues.
“They should still be looping. So okay—what do you say we grab what we came for and get the hell out of here? I’ve had about enough of this place. It gives me the creeps.” His eyes glittered as he continued sweeping his gaze around. “I wish we could take some of this other stuff too—it would probably sell for millions.” He pointed. “I think that painting over there disappeared without a trace from a museum in Chicago a few years back.”
“Just what we came for,” Stone said firmly, though in truth he was tempted too. If he was correct in his assessment, a couple of the books lying open on nearby pedestals were volumes he’d been seeking for a long time. He reminded himself that he wasn’t a thief—or at least not one for personal gain. The game set would help save lives, he hoped.
“Yeah. Uncle George would flay me alive if he found out I was going off-script. Let’s do this.”
Stone was about to use a telekinesis spell to lift the game piece from its pedestal when he stopped. “Wait.”
“What?” Zack sounded nervous, and impatient.
“I don’t trust Ms. Nera. Let me get another look before we move.” He switched back to magical sight, this time focusing on the game set and the scroll Kolinsky wanted.
It was a good thing he did. The illusions weren’t quite as elaborate as those hiding the room’s door, but they were nonetheless still masterworks. “Damn.”
“What?”
“She’s very good.”
“Why?” Zack looked around again, clearly growing more disturbed the longer they remained.
“The items we’re after aren’t where they seem to be.” He pointed at the game set, then at another pedestal on the other side of the room. “What appears to be the set is actually a box of approximately the same size. The actual set is over there, where you see a book.”
Zack swallowed hard. “And the scroll?”
“Second from the left, in the back. The scroll you see looks like a thick dowel with magical writing on it. Probably worthless.”
“You sure?”
“Quite sure.”
“Okay. The floor’s close enough to the edge I can grab the scroll without touching the rug. Why don’t I get into position to do that, and you grab the box at the same time?”
Stone nodded, and Zack carefully skirted the edge of the room while avoiding the rugs, coming to a stop directly behind the pedestal holding what looked like a small statuette.
Tense and wary, Stone centered his focus on the illusionary book concealing the game set. He met Zack’s gaze and held up three fingers, counting down: 3…2…1.
When he reached 1, he took hold of the book with his magic and pulled it toward him. The instant it left the pedestal, the illusion broke and the game-set box appeared.
At the same second, Zack extended a quick arm and plucked the statuette from his own pedestal. As with the book, as soon as its weight was free of the pedestal, it morphed into a leather scroll case a foot long and about four inches in diameter.
The lights went out.
A blast of psychic feedback sliced through Stone’s head, sending him staggering back toward the wall and dropping him to his knees. Zack’s yelp from the other side meant the same thing had probably hit him.
The darkness held for a few seconds, and then the lights came back on—this time in a wild, disorienting strobing pattern.
From the other side of the room, Zack yelped. “What the hell?”
Struggling to get back to his feet, Stone spotted a writhing black carpet of things pouring from openings in the walls.
25
All around the room near the floor, small hatches had slid open. As Stone watched in horror, more of the black things—they looked like beetles, or some other kind of shiny-backed insect—tumbled out and surged toward him and Zack, clicking and chittering as they went. In the midst of the thousands of insects, other larger shapes slithered along. Snakes?
“Hold on!” Stone called, still fighting the jackhammer pounding of the psychic feedback. He reached out with his magic and snatched Zack, lifting the two of them free of the floor. “Don’t drop that scroll.”
“N-no problem!” Zack was staring down with wide, terrified eyes. “How are we gonna get out?”
Stone didn’t answer. The whole floor moved like a shining black carpet now; in several places, the snakes—bloody hell, are those cobras?—poked their heads up and surged forward, their eyes fixed on the two men floating above. One of them struck, making a lunge upward, but couldn’t reach them.
Stone focused hard, trying to see through the teeming mass. Were they another illusion? It seemed likely—otherwise, Thalassa Nera would have to maintain a collection of bugs and snakes in her apartment. But after several tries, he still couldn’t pierce the deception.
If it is a deception…At this point, he wouldn’t put it past Nera to have her own private insect zoo.
“They’re coming up the walls!” Zack shouted.
Stone snapped his gaze around. Zack was right: the black beetles had reached the walls and were now tumbling and climbing on top of each other
, their tiny clawed feet propelling them upward at a slow but inexorable pace. He jammed the box containing the game pieces into his bag and zipped it up. “If I get you close to the ward, can you get us through?”
“I don’t know.” Zack’s voice was tight with pain. “I can try, but it feels like that feedback fried my brain.”
Below them, another cobra lunged upward, missing Stone’s foot by scant inches. He had no idea if real cobras could jump like that, but it didn’t matter—even if it was an illusion, its bite would incapacitate him every bit as much as the real thing if he couldn’t punch through it.
Heart pounding hard, he waved his hand and brought Zack over next to him, close to the ward. “How confident are you? I can try to break it, but it will take time. If this trap sent a message to Thalassa and she’s anywhere near a portal—”
“Yeah—or even a phone, if she’s got people around here. We gotta jet, fast. Just—be quiet a minute, and stay close. I’ll get it.”
Stone stationed himself directly behind Zack, keeping most of the room in his sight. On a whim, he tried sending a blast of magical energy down into the mass of bugs and snakes. The beam hit the creatures, sending up a billow of smoke and a loud crackling like wood popping in a fire. The bugs scattered, moving around the affected area, and continued their slow march up the wall.
“Hurry up…” he said, voice shaking. “I can’t keep us up here forever…”
“Shh…” Zack didn’t change position. He stared hard at the ward, his posture radiating stress. “Almost got it…”
The bugs had reached the ceiling now. They changed direction and began crawling across it. Any second now they’d be in position to drop down on Stone and Zack. Stone couldn’t risk a shield spell, since he had no idea how it would interact with the ward. Zack was already tired enough without making the process worse for him.
“Now!” Zack called in triumph. “Hold on, and push.”
Stone turned, grabbing Zack’s shoulders and propelling the two of them forward as fast as he dared. They began to move through the weird electric-gelatin structure of the ward, Stone holding his breath and trying not to do anything to distract Zack. He also tried not to think about how deadly this ward was.
