by Megan Crewe
Margo’s expression had turned puzzled. “Destroy the magic?”
“I don’t know if that’s possible,” Rocío said from where she was standing. “But I’ve hearkened firsthand, many times, how castings that are used to destroy things or to threaten lives affect its energy. The magic turns shaky, almost panicked. Harder to conduct. Sometimes it even lashes out and causes more damage itself. I’m afraid of what could happen if there were a huge impact of a lot of those kinds of castings all at once.”
“I’ve never heard anything about an effect like that.”
“I’m sure you can think of a few reasons why people in the Confed might want to keep information like that guarded,” I said. “There’s only so much we can tell you because there are too many things we can’t talk about, as much as we might want to. I know there’s a real reason for concern. Rocío’s the most sensitive mage I’ve ever met—she’s got a connection to the magic not many could match. If she says there’s a danger, it’s real. But we can’t stop National Defense’s operations on our own. You know people who could.”
Margo tensed. “You want me to get you access to my boss. Even if I thought bringing you in was a good idea, the Joint Chief of Staff doesn’t make military decisions, you know. He can only advise, not change orders already given.”
“The Director could help us speak to the people who do make the decisions in the Pentagon, couldn’t he?” Rocío said. “I don’t think it’d take much for me to get him on board. There’s something I can show him that’ll make a huge difference. But I have to reach him first.”
Margo glanced across the room to where her purse was sitting by the door. Rocío tracked her gaze. It made sense that my sister would keep whatever she needed for accessing her workplace in there.
“Can you show me?” she asked, shifting her attention back to Rocío.
Rocío’s mouth slanted down. “I can’t. But I can say—we’ve found out that Dulls aren’t as nonmagical as we thought. The Confed has been denying hundreds of millions of people the chance to learn how to do what we can do. That’s got to make a difference to the Dull leaders.”
I’d told her we could trust my sister with that revelation, and I still believed that. My heart still lurched briefly at the shock that stiffened Margo’s face.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
I coughed. “She is. I’ve seen that part with my own eyes. They’ve been lying to everyone, Margo.”
Margo looked down at her lap and then at me. For a second, her eyes looked almost as haunted as when she’d tried to convince me to back out of the Exam.
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” she said. “And I’ll look into it any way I can, I promise you that. But even if people in the Confederation have been keeping secrets—maybe they have good reasons. Maybe it’ll put us all at risk to let that information out there.”
“I’ve seen too much to believe their motives are that benevolent,” I said quietly.
“Okay. I just can’t— I’ll look into it, like I said. But my first loyalty has to be to the Confed, not to the Dulls. Finn, you know that. Taking you in so you can tell their government these things—it would be outright treason. If there’s something to this conspiracy, something that needs to be said, we’ll get there. Veritas numquam perit.”
Truth never expires, the quote meant. Nevertheless, it appeared the truth we were carrying was both too much and not enough to get us where we needed to go. I bowed my head. “Are you going out to Washington today?”
She shook her head. “I’m remote this week. But next Tuesday I’m heading over for a couple of days. If I’ve dug anything up, I’ll do whatever I can to resolve this.”
“It could be too late then,” Rocío said.
“This is the best I can offer.”
“If you—” I waved my hand, and my drink slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor with a crackle of glass and a splash of water over the hardwood.
I jumped up. “Damn. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine; it’s fine.” Margo dashed over to the kitchen and grabbed a towel. She handed it to me and ducked into her bedroom to retrieve her broom while I sopped up the water. The wet glass made a horrible gritty sound against the wood when she swept it up. She paused to peer at the boards, searching for stray splinters. I plucked a shard from under the chair, and she gave that space another sweep too.
Rocío came up behind the couch as we finished. She caught my eye and took the towels from me to bring them to the sink. “I guess we should get going, then. It just seemed worth a shot.”
Margo straightened up, clutching the dustpan. “You’re not going to be spreading these accusations all over the place, are you?”
“I’m not looking to cause a riot,” Rocío said. “Right now, all I want is to protect the magic.”
“If you can just wait, maybe I can help. I’m not saying no, only not right now, not without checking things out first.”
“I understand. And I appreciate that.” Rocío offered her a small smile.
As we moved toward the door, Margo touched my arm. “Finn. Since you’re here… Have you been involved in these ‘Freedom of Magic’ protests that’ve been happening?”
I tried to keep my expression blank, but I wasn’t sure if I succeeded. “Would it be a problem if I were?”
“No. I mean, they haven’t done anything criminal so far. You should be able to protest if you want to. Just… don’t go to the rally today?”
I froze. “How do you know there’s a rally today?”
She smiled crookedly. “Do you really think it’s that easy to keep a secret once enough people have joined in? I wouldn’t know, except I heard a couple of my colleagues talking. The Circle found out. They’ve coordinated with the Dull police forces to take a ‘firm stance’ on the protesters, to shut things down before the rally even gets started. I’d rather you weren’t there. It’s not going to get very far anyway.”
“Do you think the police are going to hurt the people who are there?” I asked.
“I hope not. Not on purpose. But I know how things can turn ugly when tempers are running hot—on both sides.”
She might not be wrong. If the police came down on us before we’d even really assembled, some of the League members would be frustrated enough to fight back. We could end up with a riot after all. A trickle of nausea ran through me.
“Thank you for the warning, at least,” I said. “And if you change your mind about the other thing—”
“You’ll hear from me soon,” she said. “Even if I don’t.”
“You’re not going to, like, call Granduncle Raymond on us?”
She made a face. “Should I be thinking I need to?”
“No.” I raised my hand as if swearing. “No one else is going to find out anything on this subject from me.”
I wasn’t making any promises about Rocío, but that statement appeared to satisfy my sister.
We’d walked a couple of blocks down the Tribeca street before I turned to Rocío. “Did you get what you need?”
“I think so,” she said. “I found a key card and an ID badge in her purse with the Pentagon symbol on them. I wasn’t sure if I could replicate the scan code perfectly in time, so I grabbed them and left conjured replacements. She shouldn’t notice anything different if she’s not going out there until next week. We can return the real ones before then.” She hooked her arm around mine. “You made an excellent distraction.”
“My one small contribution to your epic plan.” I hadn’t really expected Margo to agree to our request, which was why we’d been prepared to take advantage of the visit in other ways. While my sister had been busy with the broken glass, Rocío had surreptitiously riffled through her work things under a casting to deflect attention.
“I wouldn’t have gotten in there at all without you.” Rocío leaned into me for a second, squeezed my arm, and then released it. “I have to get going. We’ll want to catch the first train out to the Pentagon.
What are you going to do about the rally?”
That question had been nagging at me from the moment we’d left Margo’s loft. “I don’t know. I can’t just leave everyone else to the wolves, so to speak.”
“Of course you can’t.” She reached for me again, pulling me into a hug. I hugged her back, closing my eyes, soaking in the experience of getting to hold her for just a little longer.
“Promise me you’ll stay as safe as you can?” she said when she eased back.
“If you’ll promise the same.”
“Always.” She hesitated, her gaze locked on my face, her mouth tightening. “Finn…”
“What?” I said, my pulse skittering.
“No, don’t look like that. I’m just trying—” She drew in a shaky breath and brought her hand to the side of my face. “It still hasn’t been very long, and we still haven’t gotten to spend all that much time together, but I—I feel what I feel. I want to say it. Just in case. So… I love you.”
A rush of emotion socked me in the throat. I couldn’t have spoken right then if my life had depended on it. All I could do was cup her face in turn and kiss her with all I had.
When our lips parted, I kept my head near hers. “I love you too,” I said, still a little choked up, but in the best possible way. O gods, how could I let go of her now?
I had to, though. I held her close for a moment longer. She bobbed up on her toes to give me one more quick kiss, a teary shimmer in her eyes.
“We’ll have lots more time to talk about it after today, right?” she said.
“We will,” I said firmly. “We absolutely will.”
I forced my hand to drop to my side. Rocío shot me one last smile before she hurried down the street to where her colleagues were waiting.
I ducked into a little coffee shop to catch my breath and recalibrate my thoughts to the task ahead. It took a few minutes and the strongest espresso they offered, between sips of which I may have grinned like a maniac. Eventually, my heartbeat evened out and I focused on the less pleasant situation ahead of me.
The rally was supposed to start at noon. Would the Circle even be in the building if they were aware we were coming?
As soon as the question crossed my mind, I knew the answer. They wouldn’t let the other Confed employees see them cowed by a bunch of Dampered mages and Burnouts. That was why they’d called the police to their aid, even though officials like my granduncle hated relying on Dull law enforcement. They wanted to go about their day showing how little we could affect them.
We had to prove them wrong. We had to make this rally work, one way or another.
Stepping back onto the sidewalk, I fished out my phone and tapped Tamara’s number. If anyone had an idea, it’d be her. Based on texts I’d gotten in the past, she was usually up by this time in the morning.
“Hi, Finn,” she said when she picked up, her voice slightly muffled as if she had the phone tucked into her shoulder while she did something else with her hands. “What’s the word? Confirming final plans for the big day?”
“Possibly alternate plans,” I said. “I just found out from a source I trust that the Circle knows we’re coming. They’ve got the city’s police force on standby to shut us down the moment we start gathering.”
Tamara sucked in her breath, and her voice became clearer as she shifted the phone. “Well, I guess that level of pushback had to start sometime.”
“What do we do about it? We’ll look weak if we let them break up the rally before it starts—but I don’t want us getting into some sort of street fight. We’d never win that anyway.”
“No,” she said. “We’ll be much better off if we let them fight us while we stand strong. We don’t have to stand for very long if there’s an audience. It only takes one good photo or video clip to make us the valiant heroes.”
“If we get that in time,” I said, and an idea hit me with a jolt. “I guess we’re a lot more likely to get a key shot if more people are there recording it.”
“Absolutely. I know the Dull media didn’t care too much before, but I’ll put in some tips to the news stations, see if more of them bite this time.”
My flare of excitement sputtered out with a clenching of my gut. The regular media reps were hesitant to cover mage news, but there were others who weren’t.
“I can make sure they bite,” I said slowly. “Lots of them.”
“Well, you get to it, then. I’ll see you on the street.”
My arm sank as I hung up. I picked up my pace despite the resistance building inside me. On the busy street up ahead, I’d be able to hail a cab.
I wasn’t due for a shift at Media Outreach today, but I imagined I could talk my way in. I could linger long enough to get my hands on a list of all the contacts with the local media who were particularly interested in mage affairs. It’d probably be the last time I set foot in the building, once it became clear how I’d exploited my new placement.
There would be other placements. Perhaps even ones with as much appeal and promise as that one had offered. If there weren’t, well…
It was the least I could do. I’d made my own promises in the last week: to Callum, to Luis. Forcing the Circle to listen was more important than my future job satisfaction. If Rocío was right, if catastrophe was looming and it turned out she couldn’t stop it, people were going to need leaders to show them the way through the chaos—better leaders than my granduncle and his accomplices. If we handled this right, we in the League could be the ones guiding everyone toward the future we all deserved.
A taxi was cruising toward me as I reached the street. I could mourn what might have been later. Without a moment’s wavering, I raised my hand.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rocío
The train sang along the tracks with a high metallic whine as we sped toward our destination. With the magical enhancements that had been developed over the years since the Unveiling, the trip from Manhattan to the capitol took less than three hours. We’d get to the Pentagon not long after the business day started.
But it was already afternoon on the other side of the ocean, where Commander Revett would be preparing Prisha and Leonie and all the other operatives for tonight’s assault. How many hours did we have before she sent them out?
“Once we get into the building with the pass you lifted, do you have a plan for how we find this Zacher guy?” Sam asked. We’d spent most of the last couple hours researching the staff at the Pentagon before deciding that John Zacher, Secretary of Defense, was our best bet. He’d made a few pro-mage statements in the past—and he had the authority to call off an attack if we could convince him to.
“We don’t need much of a plan,” Desmond announced. “I just found the office number. It’s not secret or anything. Third floor, outer ring, near corridor eight. That sounds simple enough.”
“As long as no one realizes we don’t belong there before we get to the office,” I said. My hand rose to my face instinctively. My skin felt stiff beneath the layer of foundation I’d applied.
During the breaks I’d taken from researching, I’d been holed up in the little train bathroom with some compacts and a lipstick palette, attempting to make myself look as mature and professional as I could. I was pretty sure I could pass for at least twenty now if I gave off a confident air.
A ’chantment might have done the trick more effectively, but casting an outright illusion felt too risky. The Pentagon had magical security in place alongside the Dull staff. Margo’s pass gave off a tingle of energy they must scan along with the bar code. I’d ’chanted her photo to echo my features as subtly as I could, weaving those tiny threads under the existing casting. With luck, no one would detect it.
How much luck were we going to need to get through this?
My fingers shifted to my collar, tugging the sunburst necklace Mom had given me out from under my blouse and squeezing it as I willed myself to stay calm. At least Sam and Brandt were old enough to pass as government staff. Desmond had be
en practicing his solemn, stressed-out expression—he’d say he was an intern if anyone asked.
Brandt was doing his own research on his phone in the seat kitty-corner to mine. “Zacher has a couple of kids,” he said. “One of them’s my age, but there’s an eleven-year-old daughter.” He turned his phone to show a photo of a smiling blond girl next to her father, who was in full uniform. “Could be a point for putting pressure on him. Could you find out where she goes to school?” He nudged Desmond with his knee.
Desmond grimaced at him, and I glared. “We’re not threatening someone’s kid.”
“I’m still not convinced you’re going to talk him out of this.”
“I’m going to do more than talk,” I muttered. “I’m just not going to be a terrorist myself.”
Brandt shrugged. “I’m not saying I’d hurt her. He doesn’t know who else we might have on the ground. I’ll keep this information in my pocket for plan B in case yours goes sideways.”
“You’re going to give Rocío a proper chance,” Sam said in a terse voice.
“You’re not the mission leader here,” the younger guy said, sinking down in his seat. “As far as I can tell, you’re handing that over to the sixteen-year-old girl.”
Something about that comment prickled deeper than I’d have expected. “What is your problem anyway?” I said. “You talked about seeing the unit as your family—great. Don’t you have an actual family here? Someone must have sent you to whatever academy taught you to cast in Latin. Don’t you care what might happen to them if you go attacking the most powerful Dulls in the country?”
Brandt glowered at me. “Yeah, I’ve got a family. I’ve got parents who lost all our money on stupid investments before they drowned when I was five on some vacation they couldn’t really afford, and I’ve got grandparents who never let me forget what an enormous favor they were doing by paying my academy tuition and letting me stay in their house—if they bothered to talk to me at all. They already think I’m the worst thing that ever happened to them.”