by Shannon Page
I paced, and fretted. I just wished Helios wasn’t so young, so nervous. If they confronted him, his guilt would be written all over his face.
Out of my hands. Nothing I could do. I rocked my baby and hummed under my breath. Why didn’t I know more lullabies? What was I thinking, having a baby and not knowing more lullabies?
As a distraction, fretting about lullabies lasted roughly four point seven seconds.
I opened my visual channel to Petrana again. What’s going on? I asked her, as we stared at a dark building in the middle of the night.
Nothing, she replied. No one has emerged. I have heard no sounds. Would you like me to go inside?
I hissed out a frustrated, anxious breath. Not yet.
Should I send another message to Helios?
Whose stupid idea was this anyway?
Without my consciously having decided to do so, I realized I’d walked a little closer to the property boundary. I couldn’t see it visually, but I could feel the energy of the spells guarding the place. I’d searched for them before, and set my attention to remain aware of them.
I stopped, well shy of the border line.
Well, I didn’t know for a fact that it would alert someone to my presence if I stepped over it…
Yes, yes I did. I mean, not a fact per se, but a more-than-reason-able assumption. Dr. Mar had met me upon my arrival at the company last night, hadn’t he? I hadn’t even had to knock on the door. Clearly, they knew when intruders stepped onto the property.
It’s what any magical company harboring deadly secret crimes would do.
More minutes had dragged by. Still nothing? I asked Petrana.
Still nothing.
Helios was in trouble. I just knew he was. I had to get in there and…what? Save him? What could I do against four Old Country warlocks? For all I knew, they were as powerful as Gregorio Andromedus, or even more so. What was I going to do, march in there with my baby strapped to my chest and smite them down with my mighty maternal mojo?
Elnor bumped against my heel. Right, I thought. My mighty maternal mojo and my fearsomely ferocious familiar.
Helios, I sent, before I could talk myself out of it. What’s going on?
No response.
I took a few steps back, and sent my magic very tentatively out, opening my witch-sight to its fullest, taking the measure of every single magical thread in the vicinity. The boundary spell glowed a dim blue, passive and quiet. It didn’t contain a lot of power. I looked more closely at it. Did it repel, or only detect-and-report? I couldn’t tell for certain, but it looked just like detection.
I tested it, sending a tiny flicker of magic at it. A thread thrummed, then went still. Nothing sparked, nothing bounced back on me.
Okay, detection; and I’d committed myself, so that’s how I forced myself to walk in there, behind my own back.
“Come on, Elnor,” I said, marching forward across the boundary spell. I felt its inquisitive magic brush over my skin, and I told myself that by the time anyone came out to deal with me, I’d have found what I was looking for anyway and it wouldn’t matter. And that I could brazen my way through—whatever.
As I walked past where Petrana was lurking, she said, “Mistress Callie, what are you doing?”
“I’m going in there,” I told her, though it must have been obvious. “He’s in trouble and he’s not answering.” Before she could ask me the same questions I’d asked myself about just what I was planning to do about it, I added, “Stay out here and—guard the entrance.”
“Yes, of course, but I believe the danger is within.”
Uppity golem.
“If I’m not out in five minutes, then come in.”
“Yes, Mistress Callie.”
“And if you’re challenged—go for help.”
“I will.”
I walked up to the building, where I spent several precious seconds debating whether to try the back door that Helios was supposed to leave unlocked for me, or just go in the front. Might as well try, I told myself, and headed around back.
Locked, and spelled.
“Well, crap,” I whispered. Front door it was.
I went the other way around the building, in case there was any other entrance I’d missed, but no luck. Then I was back at the front door. It was much less prepossessing than the current headquarters, more like a smallish warehouse.
I put my hand right over the doorknob, seeing whether I could sense any spells or traps. Nothing. So I opened it and stepped inside, closing it softly behind me.
I stood in a vast, empty space; it looked to be roughly half the size of the building. It was indeed used for storage—I saw old, decommissioned equipment, parts, and stacks of cardboard boxes nearly to the ceiling. Bits of trash littered the floor, and the space was pretty dark, lit only by candles in sconces set irregularly around the huge room.
What I did not see were any people—not Helios, not the four warlocks in dark robes.
I held my breath, listening as hard as I could, but I heard nothing. At my feet, Elnor’s nose twitched. “Check around,” I told her, and she started sniffing in a near corner. Even in the dim light, I could see her tail sticking straight up in the air and her back arched, her fur fluffed up so that she appeared almost twice her size. Full alert.
I took a few tentative steps forward, keeping my footfalls as silent as I could. When this didn’t produce any response, I opened my magical senses, seeking for signs of life in the building.
There: near the back, but it was blurry. I couldn’t get a count. They were hiding their natures, and their numbers.
This didn’t surprise me; what I found hardest to understand was why they weren’t more protected. They were obviously up to no good, and Helios was clearly in trouble. But it smacked of typical warlock arrogance for the four to have come in here, not locked the door, and put the barest of shields over themselves.
Kind of like not really warding the property.
Elnor had reached the right-hand wall, or as near as she could come to it, around all the boxes and parts and dead machines. She remained on high alert. “Come on, kitten,” I whispered to her. “They’re in the back.”
She followed me as I walked across the gloomy, dusty room toward a small doorway at the far end. I rested a hand on my daughter’s head. She was looking around with wide eyes, keeping utterly silent. As (almost) always.
A faint light showed through the doorway, growing a little brighter as I approached. My eyes adjusted, but I still walked slowly, not knowing what I was going to see through that doorway. I knew I was coming closer to the living beings in here—whoever they were, however many of them there were.
I got to just this side of the doorway and stopped. Elnor took another step, peering around the corner, and went even more rigid than she had been before.
This was not good.
I took a deep breath, swallowed some sudden spit in my mouth, and stepped forward.
The door opened into a much smaller room than the first one, but still fairly large. It was almost entirely empty—no boxes, no old equipment.
In the center of the room lay a very dead man.
I knew he was dead, because of the ten tall swords piercing his back. Pinning him to the floor. Blood pooled around the motionless body. The resemblance to the Ten of Swords tarot card could not be accidental: this was a message. A ritual murder, a most gruesome one.
I knew who he was. It was Helios, it had to be. He was wearing the same clothes Helios had been dressed in. His body was the same size. Who else would it be?
All this tumbled over me in an instant. I stifled a gasp and just stood there, heart pounding, stomach sick. I didn’t realize I’d put my hand to my mouth and nose until I started missing breathing. I pulled my trembling hand down and dragged in a breath, and made myself walk up to the body.
Now I could see the side of his head, part of his face; and yes, it was poor Helios Spinnaker, an expression of surprise and dismay forever frozen on his fac
e. “Oh, Blessed Mother,” I whispered, bending down to look more closely. “I am so, so sorry.”
“Not as sorry as you’re going to be, witch,” came a cold voice from the far end of the room.
I shot back to standing, nearly wrenching my back in the process (having forgotten the baby weight strapped to my chest) and throwing a protection spell around me, Rosemary, and Elnor with my left hand.
The four warlocks who stood across the room from me lifted their left hands in unison. The one on the end closest to me—the one who had spoken—sneered and said, “You dare to challenge the Iron Rose?”
Then they flung a blast of power at me so hard, it blasted my protection spell apart and knocked me to the floor.
I landed hard on my back, all the wind knocked out of me. Rosemary gave a little surprised whoop, but she still did not cry. Instead, she sent me Strong again, and then Bad.
Yeah, hon, these are very bad guys, I thought to her, almost too surprised to be terrified. Also I was struggling for breath. I guessed adrenaline would come in a minute; right now, all my thoughts were moving in eerily calm slow motion.
The warlocks—the Iron Rose warlocks!—walked over to me. The one who had spoken, yes, it was Dr. Mar, just as I’d begun to suspect. He peered down at me as I gasped like a fish out of water, a look of bored disdain on his face. Then he turned to one of his companions. “Put her in the cellar.”
The second warlock reached out with his right hand, and consciousness left me.
I came back to awareness in a dark, nasty, cold, stinky little room. I had a moment of panic before my hands found Rosemary, still strapped to me, and still breathing. A second check told me Elnor was beside me. She was out cold, but also still breathing.
“Whoo,” I exhaled, and pulled myself to a seated position. There wasn’t much room to move around down here—the ceiling was low, it was a cellar indeed—but I scooted over to the wall and leaned against it, so I could take stock.
Helios Spinnaker was dead, clearly killed because he meddled in the business of the Iron Rose. Because he was searching for the souls that Gregorio Andromedus—and who knew how many others—had extracted from unsuspecting witches and warlocks, after draining them of their essence.
Or killed because he was simply asking questions, raising doubts. Surely they knew. Surely, if the Iron Rose was involved in this essence-stealing scheme, it was far larger and more organized than I’d suspected.
Poor Helios.
So why hadn’t they killed me too?
Because they know who you are, my brain told me. Helios was just a young warlock studying to be a scientist. I was…
Who was I?
I was the daughter of a middlingly accomplished new world researcher and a young witch in her first union. I was the inamorata (maybe) of the son of Gregorio Andromedus. I was well-known enough in my own community, and a thorn in the side of my coven, but not especially famous or important or anything, even in San Francisco.
I was the mother of a half-breed daughter, but then, did they know that?
I was the witch who’d built her own freaking golem…and then rebuilt her, stronger and more supple than ever.
With this thought, I realized that far more than five minutes had to have gone by since I’d told Petrana to come in after me—or to go for help. We’d spent at least five minutes sniffing around the first room; something must have kept her from coming in.
Petrana will save us, I thought, sending the words to both myself and to Rosemary. She gave a little giggle—oh thank the Blessed Mother, she was awake.
“Oh, sweetie,” I whispered to her, rocking her gently. “You’re okay, tell me you’re okay?”
Strong, she sent again.
What did she mean by that, exactly? “You’re strong? Is that what you’re telling me? Of course you are. Or do you want me to be strong? I’m working on it.” I knew her words would be limited. I was just glad she had any at all.
And I was so glad she didn’t seem to be harmed.
Now to get in touch with my golem. I began by trying to reopen the channel between us, to see out of her eyes once more. But that line was blocked.
I was only a little surprised; Petrana would have severed it prior to going for help, and she might even have been clever enough to cut it before sneaking—or bursting—into the building. Any magical connection leaves a trace of itself, which was how I’d managed to see the boundary spells here (not that that had done me any good).
Ætheric communication, however, was something else entirely. Petrana, I sent. Where are you?
There was a pause. I almost tried again, but then got an answer: I have gone back to the city for help. When you did not emerge in five minutes, I tried to enter, but the way was blocked.
Wow, the city; enterprising. Okay, that’s great. Listen, I’m being held captive, and Helios…met with a bad end. These are warlocks of the Iron Rose, so I don’t know how much help is going to, um, help right now.
What do you want me to do?
I thought about it a minute. I sure wished I knew more about the Iron Rose, about who was involved and what their true aims were. I didn’t know who I could trust. Everyone back in Balszt had been really friendly, but…Can you come back here for now? I don’t know who you should go to, is the issue.
Another pause. I had thought to start with the helpful desk clerk at The Majestic, she said. Magrit.
She is very helpful, I allowed, but what if she’s a supporter of the Iron Rose? A collaborator? Stranger things had happened in the world.
That is a good point. I will come back to Zchellenin, and let you know when I arrive.
Good. A noise overhead pulled my attention back to the room I was in. I’m going to go now—when you get here, don’t send me a message; I’ll contact you when it’s safe.
Then I cut the connection.
Footsteps, that’s what I heard—footsteps on stairs, most likely. I hoped they hadn’t noticed the ætheric communication going back and forth. But if they did, would it matter?
I told myself it wouldn’t. That in fact they would assume I would seek outside the building for help; it would be weird not to.
That’s as far as I got when Dr. Mar entered the room, followed by his three cronies or whatever they were. They had their hoods pulled so low over their faces, they looked like extras in a cheesy 1970s horror movie.
Naturally, I did not speak this thought aloud. I just met Dr. Mar’s eyes as he stepped in, and did not get to my feet.
“My apologies for detaining you,” he started.
I raised an eyebrow. Beside me, Elnor stirred awake, and moved to sit right next to my thigh, glaring at them.
“My colleagues and I have been discussing the matter,” Dr. Mar went on, when I didn’t give a verbal answer. “You will be pleased to know that we have decided not to kill you.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you.”
His eyes narrowed at my sarcasm. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is. We would be well within our rights to do so.”
“You were out of swords?” Oh, stop it, Callie, I told myself. No one likes a smartass.
Smart, Rosemary sent me.
Trying to cover my surprise, I jiggled her a little, then did my best to smile up at the looming warlocks. “Sorry,” I added. “I tend to babble when I’m nervous.”
“You are forgiven. But please do keep a civil tongue. Several of my colleagues were in favor of eliminating you, as we were forced to do with the unfortunate Dr. Spinnaker.”
I just nodded, making a big effort to keep quiet. But that only made it more frightening. Mouthing off had been a way of venting the absolute panic I felt. If they wanted to kill you, they’d have done so, I reminded myself. I petted Elnor’s back, trying to let the softness of her fur calm me.
“But I argued for compassion. After all, you are a young witch with a new child, and healthy younglings are rare enough in our society that we cannot afford to be dispatching them every time they stray into our bus
iness.”
I shook my head. Nope, you sure can’t afford that, nope.
“However, the question remains: what to do with you?
What, indeed? I wondered.
“You have come here, to our country, to our enterprise, asking questions which do not concern you, showing very little comprehension of our culture and our ways. Despite being a witch, you are behaving as though you were human.” He gave a little shake of his head, and was his lip curling up just the tiniest bit? Oh, how dreadful to be acting like a human.
Asshole, I thought.
He couldn’t read my mind, but he was surely seeing the expression on my face. “What you will do, Calendula Isadora, is walk out of this building. You will return to Balszt and begin preparations to go home immediately, and you will never speak of what you have seen here to anyone, ever.”
Holy Blessed Mother, what? I got to my feet, only swaying a little, grabbing Elnor on the way up. She didn’t even squawk. “Yes, absolutely, I will do that. No worries. Thanks.”
“And what we will do,” he went on, as though I hadn’t spoken, “is ensure that you will hold up your end of the bargain.” Now his ugly old face cracked a small smile. I didn’t like that smile. Not one bit.
“What…how?” I asked, my head filling with examples of the dreadful magic that Jeremy and I had performed on Flavius Winterheart. The innocent Flavius Winterheart. We’d cauterized his very magic out of him. Had these monsters perfected some sort of…silencing procedure?
Dr. Mar’s smile grew. “Oh, nothing that you need to worry about. In fact, soon it will be as though all this never happened.” He turned to his cronies. “Come, let us take her upstairs.”
Two of the robed warlocks stepped forward, as if to bodily haul me along. “I’m coming, no need to manhandle me,” I said, stepping out of their reach.
