Spies in the Dark (The Nightcrafters Book 2)

by Ramsey Isler

  The building was another one of those places that used to be something ordinary and boring, but was now a place where extraordinary things happened. In another era it was a cracker factory. The place still had some dusty old cracker-making equipment tucked away in a corner.

  The interior of the building was all gleaming stainless steel and white tile. Multicolored cables snaked overhead in neat aluminum tracks and the countless machines in the lab were all neatly sorted, seemingly by age. A collection of old cathode ray tube monitors sat near the entrance and as I walked deeper into the place I saw shiny new microwaves, smartphones, and drones.

  There was no one in the lab but Newton, and he didn’t look as neat as the gear here. His hair was messier than usual, his thin button-down shirt was so wrinkled it looked like crumpled newspaper, and his shoes weren’t tied. But when he looked up from his work and saw me standing there, he smiled and it felt like the room had suddenly gotten brighter. He might have been dressed like a bum but he still had the face of an angel.

  “What day is it?” he asked me.

  “Thursday,” I said.

  “Oh,” Newton said. “I kind of lost track.”

  “I can tell,” I said. “How’s the RID?”

  “Ready to rock,” Newton said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  We walked to the back of the warehouse, past more neat piles of boxes and electronics. The RID was in the very rear of the building on a blue tarp. It looked exactly like the first one Newton had finished, but this time there was some silvery fabric attached to it by a series of long chains.

  “It passed all tests,” Newton said. “Now we just need a little bit of that old black magic to get this thing in the air.”

  “Is that what that big sheet of fabric is for?” I asked.

  “It’s not a sheet,” Newton said. “It’s a canopy. And that canopy will be used to capture the constant stream of air that your spell will generate to keep the RID at the exact height where the Empire State Building hotspot is. The canopy is a specialized material designed to be strong but light, and it should provide more than enough lift. I just need you to modify that flying piece of paper spell a little bit.”

  “I’ve never modified a spell before,” I said. “I just use them exactly as I learned them.”

  “Well it’s about time we tried it, don’t you think?” Newton said. “We’re kind of in an arms race here. The nightcrafters are coming up with new spells, and we’re coming up with ways to counteract them but it’s only a matter of time until they catch on to us. That’s especially true with Kellar on the loose and knowing that somebody is out there gunning for nightcrafters. At some point we’re going to have to fight them with a spell they don’t have.”

  “I guess,” I said.

  “And since we don’t have anyone around to teach you new spells,” Newton continued, “all we can do is have you steal spells from other nightcrafters like we did with the phasing spell. Or we figure out ways to modify spells you already know.”

  “But I have no idea what to do here.”

  “You already know the spell we need,” Newton said. “You already know the effect we need. I’m just asking you to make it happen faster, and for longer.”

  “And what if I can’t?”

  “You can and you will,” Newton said. “We have no other options. But, you will at least have my help. I can measure everything and help you figure out what’s working and what’s not.”

  “You’re being awfully optimistic here.”

  “I believe in you,” Newton said. “Now make the magic happen so I can go home. I haven’t showered in three days.”

  “So that’s what that smell is,” I said. Newton laughed and gave me a playful punch in the arm. Then we got started.

  Here’s everything I know about altering a spell: you have to pick the right words to keep and the right ones to toss. That’s it. My entire knowledge bank of spell alteration fits in one sentence. I really had no idea how to go about this, but I was going to give it a shot. Newton rolled his collection of scanners over to me and started fiddling with them. I’d gotten quite familiar with the equipment after being Newton’s test subject for months, but that didn’t make me any happier to see them. He grabbed a remote control, hit a button, and all the lights in the lab went out.

  “First,” Newton said as he flipped all the instruments on, “let’s try the original spell again.”

  “Right now?” I asked.

  “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  “Fine,” I said. Then I focused on the canopy and said the words to that stupid spell.

  “Wood that floats upon the air. Wings and wind, wings and wind. Light as a feather, flapping strong. Wings and wind, wings and wind. Rising high, gliding free. Wings and wind, wings and wind.”

  Nothing happened.

  “All right,” Newton said. “That’s a good start. Now we know that spell doesn’t work on just anything.”

  “The words in the spell are wrong for this context,” I said. “This isn’t wood. And these aren’t wings.”

  “True and true,” Newton said. “I don’t think I can do much about the wood part. But the wings . . . maybe . . .”

  Newton dashed to corner of the lab, navigating perfectly in the near total darkness. I heard metallic clanging and some muffled cursing. He turned on a small lamp hanging from the ceiling, but it didn’t fully illuminate what he was doing. It took him a few minutes of throwing random gadgetry around, but he finally found what he was looking for and brought it to me. It looked like a robot dragonfly with only one pair of wings.

  “What the hell is that?” I said.

  “This is an ornithopter,” Newton said.

  “Okay. I’m just going to repeat myself here. What the hell is that?”

  “It’s an aircraft based on bird flight mechanics,” Newton said.

  “Aren’t all aircraft based on bird flight?” I asked.

  “Well, airplanes are loosely based on that, yes. But they’re different. They are fixed-wing aircraft. The wings don’t flap like bird wings. This machine, however, uses flapping wings. That’s why it’s called an ornithopter. The name is a mash-up of the Greek words for bird and wing.”

  “Okay. I get where you’re going. You want me to make these wings flap.”

  “Yes,” Newton said. “But instead of saying wood, say silk. That’s what these wings are made of.”

  “Okay then,” I said. “This is not the most glamorous challenge in my magic career, but let’s give it a shot.”

  I cast the flying spell again; this time replacing “wood” with “silk”. Nothing happened.

  “Not sure this is going to work,” I said.

  “Don’t be so quick to give up,” Newton said. “Have you ever studied aerodynamics or bird flight?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Maybe some basic knowledge will help,” Newton said. He turned the lights back on, walked back to his desk, opened his laptop, and tapped an icon for a file. A video appeared on the screen and started playing. The opening sequence consisted of a hummingbird flying in slow motion while some stuffy-sounding British dude narrated. The video was grainy and square. I guessed it was made before I was even born.

  “This is a really good documentary,” Newton said. “It does a fantastic job of covering all the basics in a very accessible way.”

  “Little outdated, isn’t it?”

  “Not really,” Newton said. “I mean, the video itself is pretty old. You’re right about that. But the science hasn’t changed much since then, and sometimes the classics are the best teaching tools.”

  We spent the next hour going through the finer points of bird flight in the video. I could tell this was stuff that Newton adored. His exuberance was like a little boy showing off one of his favorite toys to a friend. I wasn’t in love with the material like he was, but I have to say that by the time we finished I did have a new understanding and appreciation for bird flight.

  When I felt like my brain just
couldn’t handle any more information, we went back to the ornithopter and I tried the silk version of the flying spell again. Much to my surprise and relief, the wings started to flap. Then the little flying machine took off in a jerky, circular flight pattern around our heads.

  “Knew you could do it,” Newton said with a grin.

  “But . . . how? What changed?”

  “Your mind,” Newton said. “You’ve said it yourself — the words of the spell don’t have any power themselves. They’re just there to get your mind in the right mode to achieve the desired result. Your mind didn’t have the frame of reference to understand what the spell needed to do behind the scenes. But now that you know the physics involved, you were able to fill in the blanks.”

  “You’re telling me you know how magic works now?”

  “Wouldn’t say that,” Newton laughed. “Just got a good working theory. Anyway, this is a great start. But this wing configuration isn’t exactly what we need for the RID. I’ll put something new together in a couple days and we’ll get back to this.”

  “Great,” I said. “That will give me time to practice changing the spell some more.”

  “Excellent,” Newton said. “I’m assuming your meeting with Mr. Astforth didn’t result in new work for you?”

  “It’s kind of complicated,” I said. “He basically said he doesn’t want to interfere and I’m free to do whatever. Not what I was expecting at all.”

  “Interesting,” Newton said. “Does he have that much trust in your abilities, or does he not know what the hell he’s doing and he’s afraid to make things even worse?”

  “Seemed like the latter,” I said.

  “I see,” Newton said. “So then, Mr. Boss Man, what exactly are we doing after we get the new RID installed?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about it, but I’m just not sure how to move forward. I was hoping Kellar or his pals would do something to force the issue. But they’ve been quiet. I think there’s actually been even less magic being cast in the city recently. Haven’t noticed much activity in the Rift.”

  “That could be the calm before the storm,” Newton said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe they’re just confused. I can’t imagine they know how to handle this situation. I don’t think anyone has tried to hunt nightcrafters before.”

  “That is also a possibility,” Newton said. “But if we do have them confused we better press that advantage quickly. We won’t have the opportunity for much longer.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “So, in two days we meet up again and test out your new wings. Then we get that RID in place.”

  “Yup. See you then.”

  I headed to the door and was almost out when a thought crossed my mind. “Newton?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Have you heard anything from Dominique?”

  Newton’s shoulders sagged. I could tell I’d put a damper on the perkiness he usually had when he was in the middle of tinkering. “No, and I don’t think that’s going to change.”

  “Right,” I said. I left after that, because there simply wasn’t anything left to say. The door to Newton’s lab had just closed when my phone rang. The strange thing was that the tone was a sound I hadn’t heard in some time. It was the ringer I’d assigned to Dominique.

  “Hello?”

  “Kal!” Cecil’s exuberant voice boomed in my ear. “How are you, my magical little friend?”

  “I’m . . . fine. How did you get Dominique’s phone?”

  “I didn’t,” Cecil said. “The organization owns the phone number and reroutes it as needed. That way, no important calls get missed when there are staff changes. Have I caught you at a bad time?”

  “No,” I said. “I was just finishing a meeting with Newton.”

  “Really? You’ll have to tell me all about it when we meet up. That is why I called, actually. How about you head home and I’ll come pick you up? I’m putting together a mission team to handle something but, as we agreed, I’m informing you of it first. Plus, I’d like you present to consult on the operation.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to let Madison escape tonight.”

  * * *

  “Pardon my candor,” I said to Cecil, trying my best not to yell, “but what the hell are you smoking? Can I get the name of your dealer? His shit must be the best stuff on the market.”

  “I assure you the only pipe I’ve ever smoked just had tobacco in it,” Cecil said, “and I gave that up some years ago. There’s a method to my madness, Kal. As I said, just meet me at your home and I’ll give you a full briefing on our way to the facility.”

  “Nothing happens with Madison until we talk,” I said.

  Cecil laughed. “Careful now, Kal. That sounded suspiciously like an order, and although I’ve granted you quite a bit of leeway to do what you need to do, it would be wise for you not to interfere in matters we’ve agreed will be left to me.”

  “We agreed that you would tell me first.”

  “Which I am doing,” Cecil said. “Nothing has happened yet. You’ll have your say. I’ll see you at your place in an hour. Don’t be late.”

  Cecil hung up and that was the end of the battle, but not the war. I drove back to my place and rehearsed all the things I wanted to tell Cecil when I saw him. I parked, then walked in front of the office building that served as the pedestal my little triangle house was perched upon. Cecil drove up in a spotless black Cadillac just a few moments later. I got in the passenger seat and glared at him.

  Cecil just started driving. Once he reached the first red light he said, “You’re angry.”

  “No I’m not. I’m frustrated. I went through a lot of shit to capture that woman and now you’re talking about just letting her go.”

  “And why do you think I would do that?”

  “Liability.” I said. “After one high-profile escape, it would make sense for you to cut your losses. It might even lessen the chances of nightcrafter retribution.”

  “That would all make sense,” Cecil said. “An astute analysis, but sadly lacking creativity. Madison still has strategic value to us.”

  “Then why are you letting her go?”

  “The same reason the nightcrafters let you go after they kidnapped you.”

  It took a moment for my brain to shift gears. But once it did, I knew exactly what Cecil was getting at. “You’re going to let her go and see who she runs to.”

  “Right you are, lad.”

  “But why?” I asked. “Are you still trying to find a nightcrafter to help close the Rift?”

  “No,” Cecil said. “That was Dominique’s plan, and I’m skeptical about the viability of that one. If I recall correctly, you were skeptical of it as well.”

  “I was. So why are you doing this?”

  “We need to identify more nightcrafters. We need to know who we’re fighting so we can take the fight to them. The only other person we’ve been able to put a name on was Werner Brehme, that gent you and Newton found in London before he disappeared through the Rift. Nobody has seen him since. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and other nightcrafters are practically living on the dark side of the Rift since Newton hasn’t been able to put a RID in the London area yet.”

  “Newton is building them as fast as he can,” I said. “And nobody else is qualified to do it.”

  “Understood, and I’ll get to that in due time. But, at the moment, we just need to put more names and faces to these nightcrafters. Madison is the best tool we have to do that. She might even lead us to the sneaky bastard who infiltrated our headquarters.”

  “I did encourage you to just forget about that,” I said.

  “Can’t. Loose ends have a nasty habit of getting people killed in this business.”

  I took a deep breath, and let it out. “Fine. When are you planning on letting her go?”

  Cecil checked his watch. “In about ninety minutes.”

  “What? S
o you planned this all along? What if I said no?”

  “Our agreement was that I would inform you of the decision before action was taken,” Cecil said. “You never said anything about having veto powers.”

  “I could walk if I’m not happy.”

  Cecil just smiled and gave me a fatherly pat on the knee. “My lad, let me give you a word of career advice. Know when you have leverage, and when you don’t.”

  I wasn’t in the mood to continue the conversation after that, so Cecil just kept driving in silence. The sun set while we were still on the road. Eventually he pulled up to a remote location I guessed was somewhere in Connecticut, between New York City and New Haven. I looked around and didn’t see anything but dirt and trees and sky. Through the Rift I could feel a large truck tucked away behind a clutch of trees.

  “What’s in the truck?” I asked.

  Cecil gave me a surprised look. Then he flashed that increasingly unsettling smile of his. “Magic will never cease to amaze me. Come on, I’ll show you what’s in there.”

  We exited the car and walked to the truck. There weren’t any streetlamps out here in the boonies, so the darkness in the woods was deep and unyielding. I kept my presence in the Rift strong and constant. I had no idea what Cecil had up his sleeve, but I wanted to have as much of a heads up as possible. Once we got through the trees I could see a semi-truck with a tall, unmarked trailer.

  “This is our mobile command center,” Cecil said. “Mobile, but not very inconspicuous.”

  “Where is Madison’s lightbox?” I asked.

  “A half mile away,” Cecil said. “But we can control every single aspect of it from here. Everything down to the amount of water that gets used when she flushes the toilet.”

  “Is anyone else in there with her?” I asked.

  “Three operatives,” Cecil said. “But they are about to leave as soon as our controller gives them the word.”