Unbound

by Jim C. Hines

  “I was really hoping that would finish off all of the Ghost Army.” I sat down in front of Babs and crossed my legs. “Congratulations. In your rush to set yourself up as the next Gutenberg, you let half those things loose in our world. I wonder what the other Regional Masters are going to say about that.”

  “You destroyed our only means of fighting them,” she replied.

  “The only means? A libriomancer should have more imagination than that.” I slid her phone through the dirt. “Now how about you make that phone call to Cameron and tell him to turn Nicola loose? I suspect he’ll also want to know why the rest of your mechanical army just exploded.”

  Twenty-four hours later, I was sitting in the Detroit Metro Airport with Lena, Nidhi, and Jeneta, watching the flow of arriving and departing passengers.

  Jeneta glanced up from her book—a paperback collection of late twentieth-century poetry—and frowned. “Those things make you look like a nerd.”

  I pushed the black-framed glasses higher up on my nose. The earpieces weren’t adjusted quite right, and the lenses weren’t perfect, being designed to help correct damage from cataracts, but they were better than nothing.

  The charring of my vision continued to give me trouble, especially when reading or trying to drive at night. Not that driving was much of an issue, since my truck had burned up with my house and Ponce de Leon had taken the Triumph. Sure, it was technically his car, but I really, really liked it.

  “They’re not nerdy,” said Lena. “They’re ‘geek-chic.’”

  Jeneta’s feet tapped anxiously against the floor. She scanned the crowd again. To distract her, I set Smudge’s cage atop her duffel bag and offered her a packet I had been saving for the right occasion.

  Before, she would have lit up. Now, it was as if everything about her had been dimmed. But her crooked smile as she accepted the gift was progress. “For Smudge?”

  “He’s never tried Pop Rocks before. Don’t give him more than three to start with until we see how he does.”

  She tore open the packet and poured a pile of irregular pink crystals into her hand. She took her time selecting three, then offered them to Smudge.

  Smudge carefully plucked the crystals from her fingertip and gobbled them down. Jeneta tossed the rest of the handful into her own mouth.

  Spiders had far less saliva than human beings, and if it wasn’t enough to dissolve the candy and release the pressurized bubbles of CO2, this could be rather anticlimactic. If the candy didn’t break down until it was in his stomach, I’d just have a belching fire-spider. Which could also be entertaining.

  Thirty seconds passed. A minute.

  There was a faint crackling sound, and Smudge jumped back as if he was trying to escape from his own mouth. A puff of red fire passed over his back, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He turned to glare accusingly at Jeneta. A second puff of flame followed the first.

  Jeneta giggled. “I think they gave him hiccups.”

  Smudge flamed one more time, groomed his face, and trotted back to the side of the cage to beg for more.

  “I think he likes it,” said Lena.

  Jeneta nodded, but kept her attention on Smudge. I wondered again whether bringing her here had been a good idea. The last time she was in this airport, Meridiana had been in control of her body. We could have arranged to meet her parents anywhere. But she had insisted, and Nidhi said it was important to let Jeneta make her own choices, to help her start to regain a sense of control.

  “Do you think Meridiana is really gone?” Jeneta asked quietly.

  Much as I wanted to lie, I owed her more than that. “I’m not sure. Nicola confirmed that the sphere was destroyed, and the pieces are magically inert. We know the remnants of the Ghost Army are still out there. I’ve heard of two attacks since last night, but they weren’t planned or coordinated the way they were when Meridiana was around.”

  I was pretty sure Nicola hadn’t slept at all since leaving Fort Michilimackinac. In addition to helping organize a response to the ghosts, she was also reviewing Gutenberg’s notes to try to catalog everything I had undone when I destroyed his pen. They would be months or years cleaning up that mess.

  “I’ve also spoken with Bi Wei,” I continued. “She’s agreed to meet with Nicola. I’m hoping the Porters and the students of Bi Sheng will be able to work together to hunt down the surviving ghosts.”

  “Meridiana let me see what was happening sometimes,” Jeneta said. “What she—what we were doing. Like when those people tried to kill you and burned down your house. We manipulated their emotions, pushed them into turning on you, but they were already scared. They’re going to be scared of me, too.”

  “Some of those same people helped us save you,” Nidhi said gently. “Despite their fear.”

  Lena pointed to the gates. “There they are.”

  Mmadukaaku and Paige Aboderin raced through the crowd toward their daughter. The sight of them shattered every wall Jeneta had built up. By the time they reached each other, Jeneta was sobbing. The three of them sat down right there on the floor, heads together, arms around one another, like a rock in a river of people.

  Nidhi, Lena, and I all stood, but none of us wanted to interrupt this reunion. Lena positioned herself “upstream,” forcing others to veer around. Nidhi and I followed suit, trying to give Jeneta and her parents a modicum of space.

  Jeneta had spoken to them on the phone, but I got the feeling they hadn’t truly believed until this moment, when they could see and touch and hear their daughter in person.

  When they finally rose, Jeneta’s parents stood close together, keeping her between them. They turned toward us, and I suppressed the urge to wipe my palms on my jeans. No words could undo the pain I had caused them.

  Mmadukaaku was a large man in a rumpled brown suit. Sweat darkened the collar of his green shirt. He stood like a statue, appearing to neither blink nor breathe as his brown eyes berated me.

  Paige was almost as tall as her husband. She stood with her chin raised. One arm clasped her daughter. The other pressed tightly to her own chest.

  The silence bored deeper into my guts, like a spindle knotting my intestines. I was the one who had met them back at the beginning of summer to explain how their daughter would be spending one day a week at a “library internship.” I was the one who had repeatedly lied to them after Jeneta disappeared. Who had stopped answering their calls.

  I tightened my jaw and clenched my teeth, bracing for whatever came next.

  Still they did nothing. Said nothing. I was tempted to punch myself in the face, just to break the tension. They were going to make me speak first. So be it. “I’m—”

  My throat turned to stone, and my eyes blurred. I shook my head furiously, fighting for control. I heard Lena and Nidhi moving closer, not speaking, but offering their strength.

  “Your daughter,” I said, trying a different approach, “is amazing.”

  “Yes, she is,” said Paige.

  “She saved my friend’s life.” I nodded toward Lena. “Earlier this year.”

  “With magic.” The anger in Paige’s words made it clear this wasn’t a question, but a challenge. She knew the truth. They both did. They wanted me to acknowledge that truth.

  “Yes.”

  I wouldn’t have thought Mmadukaaku’s body could tighten any more. If he had been stone before, now he was wrought iron, hard and immovable and glowing with fury.

  “You took her from us to teach her magic,” Mmadukaaku said quietly.

  “That’s right. Jeneta is a libriomancer. She can manipulate the magic of stories, though she prefers poetry.”

  A muted smile flashed over Paige’s features.

  “You’re one of those Porters,” Mmadukaaku continued. “We saw you on the news.”

  “Not anymore. The Porters aren’t happy with me right now, either.”

  “Papa.” Jeneta’s whisper silenced us as effectively as magic. She pulled her parents toward the bench and picked up the
small cage. “This is Smudge. I e-mailed you about him, before.”

  “I remember. He’s beautiful.” Mmadukaaku actually smiled. Right up until Jeneta offered another Pop Rock to Smudge, causing him to backfire again. Mmadukaaku stepped back. “God have mercy.”

  “He’s not dangerous,” Jeneta said. Which wasn’t entirely true, but I held my tongue. “The first time Isaac showed him to me, I thought of the Anansi stories you used to tell. Smudge is a trickster at heart. Yesterday he fought a skeleton to help Isaac and Lena rescue me.”

  Her parents turned to me, their skepticism and confusion palpable.

  I shrugged. “Smudge is . . . he’s spunky. Very loyal, too. And he likes Jeneta a lot. Mostly because she spoils him with junk food.”

  “I wonder where she learned that,” Lena commented.

  “What happens next, Mister Vainio?” Paige asked.

  It was Nidhi who stepped forward to respond. “Now you take your daughter home. Let her adjust to her old life. Try not to pressure her. Don’t expect her to do everything she used to do right away. Give her time. She’ll let you know what she’s up for. Have a close friend visit her at home before she tries going out. When she’s ready, have her go out with one or two people before she starts going to any parties.”

  “Jeneta doesn’t go to parties,” Mmadukaaku said.

  I don’t think he noticed Jeneta’s reaction. I did my best to keep a straight face so as not to give her away.

  “She’ll probably have nightmares,” Nidhi continued. “Certain sounds, smells, and sights might trigger panic. This isn’t something you can fix. All you can do is to be there for her.” She handed a business card to Mmadukaaku. “Any of you can call me at any time.”

  “You’re a doctor?” asked Paige.

  “A psychiatrist. I’ve worked with people who’ve had bad experiences with magic, though I have no magical abilities myself.”

  Mmadukaaku was visibly relieved at that last part.

  To Jeneta, Nidhi said, “The fact that you’re standing here proves how strong you are. But that doesn’t mean you have to do this alone. You’re not alone, and I meant what I said. Call me any time, day or night. If I’m with a client, I’ll get back to you within an hour.”

  “Thanks,” Jeneta mumbled.

  “Will she be safe?” asked Paige. “We saw the video of those people attacking Isaac and his house. What’s to stop others from doing the same to our daughter? She was on television, too. The whole world saw her. The news people have already discovered who she is. Someone posted our home address on the Internet. We’re talking about moving, but what happens when they find her?”

  “Getting an unlisted address and number is a good start,” I said. “There are things I can do to help you stay off the public’s radar, if you’ll let me. The Porters have done witness protection-type work before.”

  “You said you weren’t part of the Porters,” Mmadukaaku said sharply.

  “I’m not. But one of the Regional Masters owes me a pretty big favor.” I moved toward the pile of luggage and other belongings. “In the meantime, I have a gift that might help.”

  Jeneta looked almost as wary as her parents. Lena winked at her as I uncovered a small traveling cage, identical to the one Smudge used.

  Jeneta’s mouth and eyes turned to near-perfect circles when she saw the small red-spotted spider inside the cage. She brought both hands to her mouth and looked at Smudge, as if to make sure I hadn’t pulled some sleight-of-hand. “Is that . . . ?”

  I held out the cage. “The second book in Smudge’s series included an encounter at a fire-spider nest. This was one of the spiders written into the background. She wasn’t given a name or much of a personality, which I think eased her transition to our world. I was up all morning helping her to adjust. But being a fire-spider, she should have the same basic potential as Smudge.”

  Jeneta extended trembling hands to take the cage. The fire-spider backed into a corner, the bristles on her back glowing like tiny matchsticks.

  I passed Jeneta a plastic bag full of chocolate-covered ants. “Feed her these, and you’ll be her best friend forever.” To her parents, I said, “Fire-spiders can sense danger. Smudge has saved my life more than once. You’ll need to keep her somewhere that isn’t flammable, but if you install a smoke detector over her cage, she’ll be able to alert you to any threat. I hope she never has to, but if she does, get out of there and call me.”

  “Thank you,” said Mmadukaaku, though I wasn’t sure he meant it.

  “She’ll need crushed stone to line her cage. You can buy crickets to feed her from any pet store.” I frowned at Jeneta. “Don’t let her just eat sweets all the time.”

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  “If you have other pets, keep them away from her for their own safety, at least until she gets used to them.” I pulled a small carry-on sized cooler from below the bench. A printed label on the top read, Contains Live, Harmless Invertebrate for Scientific Research. “I’ve taken care of the paperwork. You’ll need to leave her in the cooler for the flight, but you can take her on the plane with you.”

  The inside of the cooler was lined with obsidian gravel and contained a pair of small hand-warmers for heat. “Crack the lid before you board and after you land. She’ll have plenty of air for the flight.”

  “Does this mean my fire-spider and Smudge could—”

  “There will be no breeding of the fire-spiders,” I said firmly.

  Jeneta pouted, but it couldn’t smother the excitement in her eyes. That left only one other matter. I faced Jeneta’s parents. “Many of the stories you’ve heard are true. There are vampires, werewolves, and more. The woman who took Jeneta did so using what she called the Ghost Army. Some of those ghosts are still out there. It would help us find and stop them if we could work with Jeneta and ask her about the things she experienced. But if you or she say no, we’ll find another way.”

  They didn’t answer immediately, which was encouraging. Mmadukaaku and Paige looked at one another, carrying on a silent conversation. Finally, Paige put her hand on Jeneta’s shoulder.

  Jeneta stared at her fire-spider. “They’ll be coming for me. For all of us who do magic. I want to help.”

  Mmadukaaku looked at Nidhi.

  “It would help her regain a sense of control over her own life,” Nidhi said quietly.

  He pressed his lips together like he wanted to stop the words from escaping. “All right.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled as Jeneta offered an ant to her spider. “What are you going to call her?”

  “Nkiruka.” She raised her head. “It means a good and hopeful future.”

  My name is Isaac. I’ve been a libriomancer for most of my adult life. Until recently, I was a member of the organization known as the Porters.

  I’ve seen these people sacrifice their lives to protect you from monsters that would haunt you for the rest of your days. I’ve also seen them commit the pettiest acts of greed and selfishness.

  Both of these extremes remind me that they’re human. The Porters aren’t gods. None of us are. We’re simply people who have learned new ways of poking the universe and making it react.

  I recently got some advice from a . . . I guess you’d call him a friend. (Though if he was a real friend, he’d return my car!) Anyway, he’s lived through this kind of world-altering change before, and he says it’s going to be a bumpy ride. He also reassures me that we’ll get through it. Empires rise and fall. Human beings live and die, but humanity survives. It’s what we’re best at.

  None of which is all that comforting when you discover a nest of vampires living a half mile below your local supermarket, eh? Or see winged monsters terrorizing ancient churches.

  You’re going to hear that magic is a dangerous threat that needs to be eradicated, and that it’s the salvation of mankind. There’s truth to both sides. Magic is powerful, dangerous, and potentially deadly.

  So was the printing press. So was language for that
matter, and nuclear power and gunpowder and the Internet and so much more.

  Magic is amazing. I’ve walked on the moon. I’ve spoken with men who died centuries before I was born. I’ve seen treasures that were thought lost to history, and I’ve met beings who taught me that there’s no limit to the variety and imagination of our universe.

  According to myth, Prometheus stole fire from the gods, and was sentenced to eternal torment for his crime. Well, the Porters aren’t gods. Nor should humanity have to steal the magic you’ve helped to create.

  Magic is a gift. Like fire, it can burn. And like fire, it’s going to change everything.

  You’re gonna love it.

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  Titles marked with an asterisk (*) were made up for this book.

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  ———, The Magician’s Nephew.

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