by T J Kelly
"Cool," I said, grinning at my cousin. I hadn't had a chance to get to know him. Richard, either, except we at least had some interactions thanks to my aunt. It was crazy how busy we were. I almost missed the days during the previous summer when entire weeks went by without a major catastrophe. Besides the whole kidnapped-uncle thing. That was pretty bad. But after that, things had died down for a while.
I conveniently ignored the emotional drama I had gone through. I mean, it wasn't an attack from Oberon or anything. It was just me. So it didn't count.
A clatter came from the front doors, announcing the arrival of the Andersson brothers.
"No way did we trick those guys," Seth said as they strode in. "I don't know why the Reeve said that."
"I am aware," my uncle assured him. "There are other factors at play. Take a seat and we'll go over them."
"Ah," Seth breathed. His shoulders slumped. "Yeah, okay."
I stifled a giggle. He had been so full of righteous indignation and ready to argue his case before Armageddon. Having that turn out to be unnecessary was kind of deflating.
My uncle brought the brothers up to speed. When he was done, it was their turn to debrief.
"We were following up on some chatter," Harris explained. Armageddon had transferred in a tea service and the brothers were making themselves a plate of food as they talked. "What we thought would be a meeting of a few minor families turned out to be an all out attack. We weren't expecting to see the Reeves. Not sure why they were even there, but they arrived before we did."
"If Chas's intelligence is accurate, expect more episodes of a similar nature." My uncle walked over to the window and glared at the darkening clouds. When they dissipated, I realized they had been summoned by his mood and not an ordinary weather event. He would have left a natural storm alone.
"I doubt it's just the Reeves," James added. "We already knew we needed to monitor our connections. But what about the people we don't normally see? I'm willing to bet they are also on the list. Low hanging fruit is easier to pick off."
"Good point. I'll send out a notice for the agents in the field. Time for us to be more aware of our public face. Peony has maintained and even expanded her progress on our media footprint, but there will be rumors and ill will if we don't keep up with our connections.
Every agent cultivated assets. We knew to watch over them. But not everyone had to be in the spotlight. Those of us who were would have to go out and shake hands and get our pictures in the paper or else our enemies could plant their own stories about us with nothing to balance the misinformation.
"Oh, goody," I said. "I love being the center of attention."
Seth snorted. He and I had weathered our breakup well and were good friends. He knew exactly how I felt about the media since he had been the recipient of a few rants back when we were dating.
"I'll round up the troops," James offered. "They're probably all cleaned up and ready for another meeting." He headed off to collect my aunt and Peter. The others would still be working on intake at the containment facility and would have to debrief later.
"Well, at least I'll get to show off my new spring wardrobe," I joked. Then sighed.
◆◆◆
"I'm not sure this is what Ged had in mind," Peter laughed as we walked up the steps to an Egyptian museum in San Jose, about an hour south of the city. I wasn't in the mood to visit San Francisco even if it was the center of magician society. We were close enough to catch the media's attention, but any interactions should be calmer and the reporters would feel like they made some kind of scoop discovering us off the beaten path.
Not that San Jose wasn't a happening place. It just wasn't the center of the universe.
"I love it here," I said. We paid our admission, and I made a beeline for the replica tomb. Hanging on a velvet rope was a sign with a little plastic clock showing the next tour would be in fifteen minutes. "Come on, let's look around while we wait."
Peter followed as I dragged him to the display cases. He gave my hand a squeeze when I stopped in front of the glass separating us from offering jars, headrests, and jewelery. "Okay. That's amazing," he admitted. "But I want to check out the statues. I've been experimenting with carving and admire the style."
I followed him as he moved from display to display. I didn't tell him because I wanted it to be a surprise, but I had arranged a private visit after the museum closed. He could touch the statues to help further his studies. Rank had its privileges, and the curator was a friend of my family and prominent magician high in his clan hierarchy. My parents had partnered with him in the past and that made him accessible to me.
My hands tightened as I clasped them together, a physical reaction to the thought that the Rector name put me in the position to get pretty much whatever I wanted from anyone who wanted a favor from the elite. It was so hard to deal with. I mean, I hated our class system, yet benefited from it greatly. To divert my guilt, I made a promise to myself to try harder to cultivate real friendships with other clans. I didn't want every interaction to be transactional.
So gross.
"You hear about the junior agents in Idaho?" I asked as we stared at a bust of Nefertiti. She was beautiful and the colors the artists used were still vibrant.
The corners of Peter's eyes tightened. "Yeah. While Oberon was ruining our alliance with the Reeves, a whole group disappeared out of Craters of the Moon." We had stopped by the national monument and preserve on our way to save my uncle last summer to stock up on weapons.
"Uncle Ged asked me to work with them. Aunt Peony and Richard, too. He thinks our efforts with Recall might help find buried memories." None of the agents who returned could remember what happened or realized hours or even days were missing from their minds.
"Man, I hope so. I know we needed to stop what was happening to the alchemists and their metalwork, but I'm sick of being caught off guard by all the other stuff going on while we're fighting."
Peter studied a grayish black stone statue of Isis with her son Horus on her lap. He looked a little twitchy. Despite the serious nature of our conversation, I had to bite back a grin. He wanted to run his hands over the lines, check out the back to see how much had been done to cover the chisel marks, glean techniques from the ancients. And he would. Finally, something I could give him that he truly wanted.
"The tour is about to start," I murmured. "Come on, let's think about something pleasant for a while. And you'll love it. They had all the wall paintings reproduced and the murals on the ceilings are exact duplicates of the original, too." I knew mentioning his favorite art medium would draw his attention. Peter intertwined his fingers with mine as we made our way over to the line that had formed near the tomb entrance. A few small groups, family units or friends, were hanging out, waiting for the guide.
"It is," a woman murmured to her anxious looking daughter, whose face brightened in response. The girl slid out a phone and started typing, obviously excited. I glanced at Peter to see what he thought of the odd exchange.
Flash.
Oh. She had just taken my picture. Well, I guess she could have been taking a shot of Peter, but his social profile was lower than mine, by design. Peony had protected him from the public as he was growing up to keep the Makenna allies and enemies away from him. There was no way my aunt and uncle would let the dark magicians use Peter to continue the work his parents had been doing. It had gotten them killed while fighting Armageddon.
I popped out my phone and checked. Sure enough, she had posted a picture of me and half of Peter's face online. Facial recognition software was the bane of my existence, but on the upside, it was easier for me to keep an eye out on what was happening. My uncle wanted us to watch our reputations and keep up our connections and friendships. If somebody was gossiping about me, I wanted to know it.
Except the girl was sweet and had added a comment when she posted my picture. "Guess who's here? Best museum visit ever!" she had gushed. Aw.
I tilted the screen so Peter cou
ld read it over my shoulder. "Okay, that's just adorable," he teased. He kept his voice down to keep from being overheard. Neither of us wanted to sound like we were mocking the public. Especially a young girl. He leaned closer to whisper his comment in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my back. "But you know what this means."
Yeah. The press would check the location tag and then come out in force. I tried not to groan when another flash went off. I gave it a moment before checking. This time Peter was in the shot. It looked like he was kissing my neck from that angle. Not that I minded people knowing we were together, but it was a little embarrassing. At least he was a part of things instead of a half-person at the edge.
"Welcome to the spotlight," I teased as I showed it to him.
"Hey, I have a following. At least five people will want to know all the details about my girlfriend. Maybe bash you out of jealousy."
I giggled. He may not be the head of the largest magical corporation in the world, but he had a solid core of fans out there, too.
Too bad for them, though. Peter was mine and nothing anyone said could change that. Not after everything we had been through to get together.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen," the guide greeted us as she arrived for the tour. She was super pretty, dressed in dark slacks and a white blouse, her cornrow braids in a cool zigzag pattern across her scalp. She unhooked one end of the rope and moved it to the side, allowing us to enter and starting the tour.
I kept peeking at my boyfriend as we moved through the rooms, listening to the guide's voice as she explained Egyptian burial practices, pointing out details about the images covering the walls and ceiling. It worried me he would feel ignored, or that our trip turned into something that was all about me. Again. But he seemed to be enjoying himself.
More people joined our group. They missed the first part of the tour, but the hungry look in their eyes and the small cameras they didn't bother to hide when they took our picture made it clear they weren't there because they liked history.
To my relief, the press allowed the tour to run its course. They stayed back, their snapshots and murmured conversations discreet as they reported in over the phone. It was almost pleasant. Not my usual experience. But I would take it.
"Hey, I have plans for later," I said, not telling him yet about the private viewing. But the museum wouldn't close for hours and we were under orders to keep up our social contacts. "But for now, want to go to a clubhouse to eat?"
Most of the national and state parks or monuments had gathering spots for magicians, the magic upwellings near and under them attracting us like moths to a flame. There were plenty of interesting places in San Jose, and most of them had restaurants attached to cater to our magician's obsession with gatherings and parties. Honestly, it was the best way to form alliances, and keep up with them.
"Sure. I've got a place in mind not too far away."
"You meant the mystery house?" I asked.
"Hey, how did you guess?" Peter's lips curved into a smile. I gazed at the tiny indent in his bottom lip. I really liked when he was happy.
"They have the finest restaurant in the area and you can always find a bunch of apprentices there," I laughed. "But maybe I'm learning to read your mind like Mort wants." The best partners communicated on a deeper level. It wasn't as direct as the connection between the Andersson brothers or the same as Mort reading the mind of anyone who was unaware, but still useful during the heat of battle.
"Terrifying thought." Peter gazed down at me with mock horror.
"I promise never to use my power against you," I teased.
"Too late. I'm already under your spell."
I knew he was kidding, but a thrill shot through my body, anyway. The look in his eyes. Wow.
Giving myself a little shake, I turned away and cleared my throat. The girl who took my picture was in the gift shop, holding a pair of earrings next to her face, studying her reflection.
"Those are killer," I said.
The girl jerked around, a shocked smile on her face. "You think so?"
"Yeah. You'd look amazing in them. The color brings attention to your eyes, which are beautiful."
Her only response was to stare at me with her mouth hanging open. I grinned as I turned back to Peter. He winked at me. It never hurt to give a compliment. I had really meant it, even if I also knew she would probably post something about it for the world to see.
We walked down the steps and then around the side of a fountain. I formed a sphere of Air around us and filled it with the scent of shortbread cookies before Peter cast the spell to transfer us to our next destination.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Attention
The mysterious house with its strange rooms and doorways leading to nowhere was a childhood favorite, although I never had the chance to go and hang out with friends at the restaurant or the clubhouse. Mundane humans didn't see the door to that part, but even if they did, it would be only one of two thousand doors. They weren't all that likely to stumble upon the correct door by accident. It was exclusive and private and the atmosphere couldn't be beat.
"Welcome, Praelia Nox. It's so wonderful of you to grace us with your presence," said the host as he bowed over my hand. "And Armalucis, truly an honor, sir."
I waited patiently as Peter shook his hand. It was kind of cool that the host knew who my boyfriend was. I had gotten so much press back when I was competing for Rector Enterprises that pretty much any halfway proficient employee would recognize me. But Peter did his work in private for my uncle. Only somebody who studied the major clans would know him and his magician name.
Weapon of Light.
"We'll order later," Peter said, answering the host's question about our needs. Instead of being seated in the dining room, we chose the bar area where most of the people our age spent their time.
"See anyone you know?" I asked. When Peter shook his head, I scanned the crowd as he escorted me to a standing table before ordering us cream sodas. They had their own in-house brewing, a real pleasure to drink and something different for us since we were still too young to order alcohol.
Not that I would. I mean, the absolute last thing I needed was to lose control. My body shuddered with regret at the thought of the things I had done. I was sure nobody would want me to get drunk and accidentally open up a huge lava pit in the center of the room.
"Are you chilly, milady?" a quiet voice asked. "I can bring a wrap."
I smiled at the waiter, dressed in the typical tuxedo with pristine white gloves. "No, I'm fine. Thank you." I studied his face. He looked familiar. "I'm sorry, my memory fails me. Have we met?"
"Not officially. I had the honor of serving at the Council's formal dinner late last summer."
Ah. The occasion had its hiccups, including me choking on an accidental mouthful of blue cheese. "And you handed me a cloth napkin when I was in desperate straights," I laughed.
"It was my pleasure," he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. "The Sasaki clan strives to serve." And they did. Their family was well-known for their outstanding service all around the globe. Most magicians wouldn't have known that considering how they looked down on the service industry, but my parents made certain I learned enough about all the clans to be better able to tell who my friends were. Who to call in when in need, and not just for a napkin.
"You did a wonderful job. I probably wouldn't have survived the evening without your help." I said, mostly serious. It was funny - now, not back when it happened - and I could joke about it without feeling like such an idiot. Besides, that evening turned out to be one of my favorite memories. Dancing with Peter made everything that happened prior more bearable.
"You do my family honor," he replied.
"No, it is you who has honored your clan." The Sasakis contracted out to the major magicians in whatever area their branch of the clan was located. And San Jose was close enough to my home to work. "If I wanted to contract your services for an event I'm planning for early summer, who w
ould I speak with?" I had to install the astrolabe in front of Rector House. May as well make a party of it and invite a bunch of people to keep up our contacts.
"That would be my father, Sasaki Isao," he said, using the family name first as per the custom in his culture. He handed me a business card. "You can tell the secretary that Kazumi sent you."
I nodded my thanks. "I will." When he didn't bow and immediately leave - the usual for a servant - I realized he had more to say. But it was on me to dictate the course of the conversation, another silly tradition intending to keep the class system going. "I feel as if you may have something else on your mind. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Kazumi's eyes darted around the room. He had already been keeping an eye out in case his services were needed, but at that moment I realized he must have been checking to see if anyone noticed our conversation.
"I have some information that may interest you," he said. I perked up. While the roster of agents wasn't published, anyone with even half of Kazumi's skills would know I lived with my uncle, who everyone knew was in charge of the Irregulars. Secrecy wasn't necessary for the leadership, especially since my uncle's reputation preceded him. "This clubhouse is a regular meeting place for certain families."
His head tilted towards the host station. I studied the layout and noted that the man behind the small podium desk marked down the names of those who entered the club. Then Kazumi slipped me a folded paper and bowed before he departed.
I glanced around the room and saw Peter heading back with our drinks. He must have noticed my conversation with the waiter and stayed away until it was over. Unfolding the paper, I read a short list of names.
The one on top jumped out at me. Taine. Then the next two weren't a surprise. Unguis and Perdo. The usual allies of Oberon and his family. Another memory from the night I met the waiter flashed through my mind. There had been a few guys standing around making stupid bets. They wanted a seer's services, but at the time none were available. One said they had to delay a deal because of it. With the Unguis clan. Another alliance forming right under our noses.